#family history mysteries: buried past

[watchinghallmark]

JANEL PARRISH as SOPHIE MCCLAREN Family History Mysteries: Buried Past (2023)

[hallmark-movie-fanatics]

[hallmarktheheartoftv]

Family History Mysteries: Buried Past

[clemsfilmdiary]

Family History Mysteries: Buried Past (2023, Jonathan Wright)

Family History Mystery #1

1/17/23

[fortuneforsaken-if]

What is a King to a God, and what is a God to a non-believer?

DEMO ☥ PINTEREST

This game is geared for mature audiences and as such is strictly 18+.

Ancient shackles bind you to the mortal realm, a soul severed from a home lost to the sands of time. A curse on you, a blessing for those who take command; Who wouldn't like to own a God?

You're the highly revered deity of fortune. Or you were, five thousand and eighty-two years ago. Now you're nothing but a glorified plaything to one of the most powerful families in the world. Every demand you must fulfill, no matter how vile or self-serving. The illusion of choice is all but shattered, there's nothing you can do to change it.

Or is there?

It takes a simple thing for something to shift. A fragment from the past, an ageless, flickering hum of power that unfurls the hands of fate and unearths buried sparks of hope. No one would've thought that an ancient sherd would hold the first hint to your freedom, a warm, familiar sensation of your soul locked in a tomb somewhere where no mortal has stepped in well over five thousand years.

Let's hope the decay doesn't take you before you find your way back home.

☥ FEATURES ☥

Two separate sides to customization; The one mortals perceive, and your true form. Choose names, appearances, gender, pronouns, sexuality, romantic orientation, and more.

Shape the personality that starts to re-emerge after being dulled for the better part of history. Reconnect with yourself, and get in touch with memories and feelings you lost so long ago.

Experience a character-driven story full of twists and turns that eventually determine how each of the three endings play out.

Romance one (or two) potential love interests from a cast of characters; A shunned archaeologist, a primordial God, the reincarnation of a priestess, or the mysterious man you can't quite place. Or don't, it's up to you.

And last but not least: Don't let the decay reach your heart. Every change of fortune has consequences, and mindfulness is encouraged. This game does have bad endings.

☥ CAST OF CHARACTERS ☥

Zain/Zaina Tharset ∆ M or F, 28

"You're my birthright, and I'd sooner have you dead than let you make a fool out of me."

Z is your charge. Loud, obnoxious, and entitled; They don't care about your feelings or protests. Every desire that leaves them only serves them alone, and it's on brand for most of the charges you've had before. In simple terms, Z is not a good person, and the more time you serve under them, the less you believe they have any redeeming qualities.

Like everyone in the family, Z has warm brown skin with golden undertones, and eyes in light shades of brown. Their hair is naturally curly and shaved on the sides, leaving a strip of hair on the top and back, like a fashionable mohawk. Zaina's hair reaches the middle of her shoulder blades, while Zain's stops at the nape of his neck.

Being bound to them is painful, but you have no choice. Trying to retrieve your soul will be an ordeal, and it might not be worth the agony.

Rami Tharset ∆ M, 28, RO

"Just because the world has forgotten you, forgotten them, doesn't mean I will."

Rami is the twin brother of your current charge. Kind and humble, it's difficult to imagine him a part of the Tharset family on count of how different he is from that pit of vipers. He keeps to himself, usually holed away in a library or study where he digs into the history of, well, you. Or the ancient world you came from. This has caused the rest of the archeological community to shun him, the name of your old empire nothing more than a myth and a glorified fairy tale.

Rami shares his family's warm brown skin tone, and the black curly hair that's usually a messy mop that sits on top of his head, unstyled and naturally chaotic. It reaches just the stop of his ears, and is shaved in the back. Light brown eyes that are quite blurry without his glasses, but the gold-tinted pilot-framed lenses fit him nicely.

He's one of the few friendly faces you face in the Tharset circle, and you curse your misfortune that you couldn't have him as a charge instead.

Maluset ∆ M, N/A, RO

"For all I am, all I have controlled, still I could not keep you safe. Forgive me, old friend."

The God of the Night, and everything that you have left of an age and life long forgotten. While the rest of your pantheon faded one by one, he remained. You've always known Maluset as a calm presence, a steadfast and unperturbed God that never let himself be shaken, by mortals or his siblings.

While Mal prefers manifesting as his animal motif - a jackal made of black marble and eyes like consolidated galaxies - he does have a human form too. If he must appear mortal, his skin takes the color of what the mortals of your time had; bronzed, medium brown with a golden undertone. His hair would be jet black and curly, medium length, and he likes it naturally tousled by the winds. If necessary, he'll let his eyes appear dark brown in color, but he prefers the starlit skies in them instead.

He's been a constant in your life, at least until he disappeared three centuries ago. You know he's still out there since the realm where you take shelter is his, and it hasn't yet disappeared.

Rory Ewing ∆ F, 23, RO

"I can't remember, but your face, it stirs something in my heart. Why? Who was I to you?"

Rory is a new acquaintance to you, but there's something very familiar about her. She might just be a student now, her curiosity bringing her close to you, but you can feel an old connection whenever she's close by. Her voice reminds you of prayers long ago, even if her modern vernacular is closer to 'damn, that shit's the bomb' than hymns sung in your praise. Then again, reincarnation has a way of changing people.

It doesn't, however, change appearances. Back in your day, Rory's vessel was a traveler from the north; Her skin was light beige, rosy in its undertones. Her hair was thick and a subdued red, woven into an intricate braid that hung over her shoulder, reaching her midriff. Her eyes were also uncommon to you; pale green, vibrant but ghostly.

She doesn't remember you, and maybe that's for the best. Her new self is a stark contrast to who she was, and you don't think she'd enjoy the idea of donning priestess garb over the punk-rockish getup she wears now.

Taz Arian ∆ M, 34, RO

"Funny, isn't it? How some people seem familiar, even when they shouldn't be."

Taz is... Someone. He appears out of nowhere to join your journey, his knowledge of old ruins and tombs handy but somewhat worrying when he shouldn't even be able to see you. There's a strange thrum of power coming from him whenever he speaks, and you swear you've met him before, but where? It might be easier to find out if he didn't deflect and flirt his way out of things, but it does help with mortals that can't see you.

His appearance is nothing extraordinary; Dark brown hair that's held up in a bun, and you could assume it reaches his shoulders when loose, the loose curls pulling it a tad shorter. His eyes are light in color, almost golden in the right light, glinting with mischief. His skin is weathered, and golden bronze in color, with an intricate tattoo of an eagle spanning across his chest. He also sports a short beard, which gives him a rogueish look.

There is something about him that tugs at your memories, but you can't catch that thread of remembrance for long enough to recall him. Still, he doesn't seem to mind and resorts to teasing you instead.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Timeless soulmates p.1

Hii guyss I hope you enjoy the fourth story of my Spooky Friday series, since I've liked this one so much I'll do a part 2. If you want to read the other ones you can find them on my masterlist :)

When a history student unearths a forgotten tale of forbidden love, she unknowingly releases a presence bound by time and longing, leading her into a darkly romantic mystery where the past may hold her heart captive forever.

It’s late afternoon, and the warm golden light of the setting sun filters through the tall windows of the university library. You’ve been sitting at the same wooden table for hours, surrounded by piles of old, dusty books.

As a history major, you’ve always been drawn to the mysteries of the past, but something about this particular research project has consumed your thoughts more than usual. You’ve been delving into myths and folklore from the 1800s, specifically focusing on the strange and eerie tales from the town surrounding your university. Most people brush them off as ghost stories—fabrications meant to entertain or scare. But then, you find something different.

While flipping through a faded journal from 1845, you come across a legend you haven’t heard before. The pages are brittle, the ink smudged in places, but the story catches your attention immediately. It tells of two lovers from the same village. She was a beautiful young woman, and he… well, the townspeople thought he was a monster. They believed he fed on others during the night, hiding away in the woods. Fearing for her safety, the woman’s family forbade her from ever seeing him again. But the journal hints at something more—a cryptic note about a secret burial site deep in the woods where they had supposedly met their end.

Your eyes linger on the page. It says the woods, the very woods surrounding your university, were their hiding place. You don’t believe in fairy tales or monsters, but curiosity tugs at you. You’ve always loved solving puzzles, unraveling old mysteries. This one feels different, more real. Before you know it, you’ve packed up your things and decided to head out, your mind racing with the idea of exploring the woods for yourself.

The path through the forest is quiet, too quiet, but you brush aside the unease that creeps up your spine. You reach a clearing deep in the trees, and there, hidden beneath a blanket of vines and leaves, is something you didn’t expect: an old stone crypt. Its entrance is half-buried, almost as if the earth itself is trying to keep it hidden.

Every instinct screams at you to leave, but curiosity gets the better of you. Your fingers brush the cold, weathered stone of the door, and after a moment’s hesitation, you push it open with a creak that echoes through the quiet woods. Inside, it’s dark—so dark you can barely make out anything. You squint, trying to adjust to the dim light, but the silence is broken by a faint noise from within. You freeze.

Turning quickly, you glance back into the crypt, but it’s empty—nothing there but shadows and the smell of damp earth. Your heart races, and you back away, deciding that maybe this was a mistake. You quickly leave, the door swinging shut behind you with a heavy thud.

As you walk back through the woods, the unsettling feeling of being watched gnaws at you, but when you glance over your shoulder, no one’s there. You shake it off, laughing quietly at yourself. It’s just a story, after all. However, you don’t notice the pair of eyes, glowing faintly from the darkness of the crypt as you disappear down the path.

In the days that follow, things start to feel… off. At first, it’s subtle—a shadow moving in your peripheral vision, the feeling of someone walking too close behind you, but when you turn, no one’s there. You try to convince yourself it’s just your imagination, still buzzing from your adventure in the woods.

But then the weirdness grows. Animals from the university’s lab go missing—just vanishing without a trace. Clothes disappear from the boys’ dorms, strange items that seem unrelated. Whispers spread around campus, but no one has any answers. You can’t shake the feeling that it all connects back to that crypt, back to that story of the lovers in the woods.

With Halloween approaching, the campus buzzes with excitement. Parties, decorations, and costumes fill the air, but you can’t shake the strange feeling that’s been lingering since the night you discovered the crypt. The unease has only grown—shadows in the corner of your vision, whispers in the back of your mind, and the strange occurrences around campus. It’s enough to keep you on edge.

But then, your best friend, Emma, bursts into your dorm room with a mischievous grin on her face. "Guess what! There's a huge masked party this weekend, and you have to come!" she says, her enthusiasm practically vibrating.

You hesitate, biting your lip. “I don’t know, Emma. I don’t think now’s the best time for parties. There’s something weird going on, and—”

“Oh, come on,” she interrupts, rolling her eyes. “It’s Halloween! You’ve been cooped up with those dusty books and creepy myths for way too long. A party is exactly what you need to take your mind off everything. Besides, everyone’s going!”

Despite your reservations, she convinces you. Maybe she’s right. Maybe you do need a distraction from all the eerie feelings swirling around you lately. You agree to go, promising yourself you’ll just make an appearance.

The night of the party, the old mansion where it’s being held is decked out in flickering jack-o-lanterns and cobwebs, the eerie atmosphere fitting perfectly with the occasion. You wear a simple black mask, your long dress flowing behind you as you step inside. The crowd is lively, laughter and music filling the air as masked figures twirl around the room.

You try to relax, but the feeling that something’s off sticks with you. A couple of drinks later, you’re still on edge, and it doesn’t help when a guy dressed as some kind of medieval knight starts hovering around you. His mask hides most of his face, but his behavior is unmistakable—flirty and way too close.

“Hey, relax,” he says with a grin, stepping even closer, making you feel cornered. “Just trying to have a little fun. It’s a party, right?”

You’re about to excuse yourself when a voice cuts in from behind you, calm but firm. “She’s clearly not interested.”

You glance up, and your breath catches. The man standing next to you is wearing a dark mask, but it’s his eyes that you notice first—green with a mix of blue, sharp and intense. His hair, a deep shade of brown, falls slightly over his forehead. He steps between you and the guy, who grumbles something under his breath and slinks away.

“Thank you,” you say, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

He smiles slightly, his eyes softening as they meet yours. “It’s not the first time I’ve had to rescue you from guys like that.”

You blink in confusion. “Do I… know you?”

His smile deepens, though there’s something almost wistful in it. “I could never forget you. Even after all these years.”

You frown, trying to place him, but nothing about him is familiar. “I’m sorry, I don’t—”

“Come,” he interrupts gently, his voice almost a whisper. “Let’s get some air.”

He leads you outside, away from the noise of the party, into the cool night air. The moon is high, casting silver light over the lawn. You cross your arms, the chill making your skin prickle, but there’s something about this man that keeps you from leaving.

“So,” you say hesitantly, still trying to figure out who he is. “What did you mean… ‘after all these years’?”

He leans against a low stone wall, watching you carefully. “We met a long time ago. More years than you’d believe. 1845, to be exact.”

You laugh nervously, sure that he’s joking. “Okay, funny. But really—how do I know you?”

His eyes darken, and with a slow, deliberate movement, he reaches up and pulls off his mask. The sight of his face makes your heart skip a beat. There’s something timeless about him—handsome, yes, but more than that. His features stir something deep inside you, a strange sense of recognition that sends a shiver down your spine.

“My name is Charles,” he says softly, his gaze never leaving yours. “You don’t remember me, but I’ve waited for you… all these years. I was locked away, trapped in that crypt you opened in the woods. I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me.”

Your mind reels, the ground beneath your feet seeming to shift. "What?" you whisper, shaking your head. “That can’t be possible. The crypt… That was just an old story.”

“It was our story,” he says, his voice filled with a quiet intensity. “We were lovers, long ago. You were taken from me that night, the villagers separated us. They believed I was something monstrous, something unnatural. But I never gave up hope. I’ve been waiting for you to return, to find me, to set me free.”

You take a step back, your heart pounding in your chest. “This… This isn’t real. It can’t be.”

Charles moves closer, his eyes locked onto yours. “It is real. That night, when they came for me, I thought I’d lost you forever. But you’re here now. And nothing—nothing—is going to keep us apart again.”

His words wrap around you, stirring something deep within, something almost familiar. You want to deny it, to laugh it off, but you can’t shake the feeling that what he’s saying is true. There’s a pull, a connection between you that defies explanation.

“Charles…” you whisper, unsure of what to believe. “I’m not… I’m not who you think I am.”

His smile is soft, but there’s an unwavering determination in his gaze. “You are. You always have been. And now that I’ve found you again, I won’t let anything take you from me.”

Part 2

[thelarriefics]

SUMMER FIC REC, Part II: Below you will find fics that take place in the summer, or have summer scenes. (Part I)

📖 On The Horizon by FitzAndLarry (261k)

Drunk, loose, and excited on the first night of his two-week-long cruise, Doctor Harry Styles finds himself with a little extra company on what has turned out to be a lonely experience. Louis, the pilot who helped fly him across the Atlantic, is the object of his fling. Thus begins an adventure filled with laughter, sun, and trauma rearing its ugly head. Deadline on their companionship, the pair commit to enjoying their time - and Harry, the screw-up he is, can't help but lose himself in the fantasy.

📖 love is a word, you gave it a name by @larrydoinglaundry (158k)

After two decades in brutal show business, Louis Tomlinson is trying to restore his tranquility of mind in the peace of Northern Europe where the sun barely sets, Maria's bar is always open, and young Harry has an irresistible spark in his eyes.

📖 blue moon by @aquietlarrie (152k)

or the self indulgent 50’s au where i wanted a safe space to explore the culture, history, and sexuality of being gay in a time when it was extremely difficult to do so. includes, lots of questionable dancing, healing your inner child, and one heck of an emotional ride.

📖 a cycle of recycled revenge by @broken-beaks (103k)

Or: The one where Harry likes to infuriate Louis almost as much as he enjoys straddling his lap.

📖 gloominess of summer days by @adoremelikeasunflower19 (90k)

Following a devastating and unexpected split, Harry finds himself rewarded by the mysterious ways of Faith in the form of an inheritance of his Uncle’s house in a distant country Wolveheuls. Dismissing his initial scepticism, he chooses to seize the opportunity. He starts a journey of self-discovery, relearning the meaning of loving and being loved, moving on from the painful past, and making his place within the eccentric small-town community. Between his efforts, his path crosses with Louis Tomlinson, a town native, known for his ridiculous number of jobs, incomparable wit, and profound adoration for the cottage lifestyle.

📖 Summer's in the air and baby, heaven's in your eyes by @starryhaze28 (82k)

or a 70s tennis au filled with skirts, pet names and intrigue

📖 your memory over me by @shimmeringevil (64k)

The worst heartbreak of Louis’ life walks right back into it when his parents invite their family friends on an all-expenses-paid trip for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Facing a past that he tried to bury long ago, Louis learns that some people have a way of sticking with you even when they’re gone.

📖 hope your life leads you back to my door by wildestdreams (56k)

Harry Styles set out to be a doctor; a steady career and a good living is all a young person could ask for. What he hadn't set out to do was to spend his summer holiday on a trekking trip in Spain with a group of people he barely knew. And he certainly didn’t plan on having his heart stolen by Louis Tomlinson, class clown, and secret crush, in such a way that he feared he might never find it again. ft. cheesy chat-up lines, a big desi wedding, falling in love, and growing up.

📖 A Golden Goal by a_momentwitme (55k)

"Even they, as free as you think they are, don't always get to love like this, in the true meaning of the word, of the feeling. Not some diluted version that some settle with for their entire lifetime. I mean love in its purest form, which still grows every day despite the problems, barriers and annoying habits you discover in your partner. A love that refills your heart after you pour it out or makes you go on during your worst days, knowing that your best is expecting you at home."

📖 where the tide takes you, i will follow by @pinkcords (53k)

Louis lives in Gloucester and Harry tries to find a way to stay.

📖 sent by the sun by @givesuethemoon (51k)

In 1970s Los Angeles, Harry is a groupie who aches to feel alive. Louis is the lead singer of a rock band who aches to know him.

📖 Suddenly Last Summer by @disgruntledkittenface (44k)

Louis is bored, rich and lonely. He has no reason to expect that this summer in the Hamptons with his friends will be different from any other – until he meets Harry. Suddenly he has someone who listens to him and cares about what he thinks. Someone who really sees him. But their happily ever after is forever marred by an incident at a party during Labor Day weekend, and Louis is left with a choice to make.

📖 Awake Dear Heart, Awake by She_bear (35k)

Cute, fun, sexy and at times emotional AU where Harry and Louis meet as strangers on holiday in Greece and find themselves stuck on a remote beach together. An initial misunderstanding gets them off to a bad start. Both at a turbulent point in their lives, they are forced to confront their internal struggles and of course each other.

📖 He Still Takes My Breath Away by @parmahamlarrie (32k)

 the one where Harry is a lifeguard and Louis is the head of recreation. And, sometimes, you just need a little push to realize what was right in front of you the whole time.

📖 Bitter Ends Turn Sweet by @allwaswell16 (30k)

It had been four years since Harry first heard the song his ex wrote about him and far longer since they broke up. He forgave Louis long ago, and now his life was focused on his career, his family, and especially his son, Max. But Louis was back in Chicago, after all this time, and he’s not an easy man to ignore. Or a songfic inspired by the song Chicago

📖 Dancing With Masks by @softfonds (18k)

With awards season coming up and new films on the way for both of them, Harry and Louis' managers decide it's time for them to date for publicity. They don't mind, given that they are best friends and have known each other for ages. Besides, after years of sexual tension built into a fake relationship for press, what could possibly go wrong?

📖 Come on in, the water's fine by @greenblueish (9k)

or, the one where Louis is set on enjoying his last summer jobbing abroad as tourist entertainer and it only gets better when a mysterious hotel guest with overly expensive sunglasses keeps coming back for his drink recommendations.

📖 Black Leather, Blue Lace by @insightfulinsomniac (8k)

aka: a pwp in which new soulmates farmer!Louis and city girl!Harry are filthy exhibitionists.

📖 Near You Now by @beyondxmeasure (8k)

When a leaky bathroom sink turns into a minor flood, Harry has to act fast. So, he thinks of the closest (and most unlikely) way to find home repair help… Grindr. The last thing he expects from this quick fix is to find anything long-term.

📖 now i'm tracin' all my steps to you by @alwaysxlarrie (5k)

Of all the things Harry was prepared for this summer, Louis Tomlinson and his wonderful, wonderful scent isn't one of them. It probably shouldn't be as shocking as it is that it makes Harry want to nest. There's only one slight problem -- Harry and nesting aren't exactly on familiar terms. At all. This does not stop Harry from borrowing ("borrowing") Louis' things all throughout summer, though. Oops?

[moonlitstoriess]

The Shadows in the Sunlight- A Helion series

Summary: Helion, the High Lord of the Day Court, is known for his charm, power, and control over light. However, when a mysterious female from a forgotten, shadowy court—a court thought to be destroyed long ago—emerges, everything he thought he knew is challenged.

She stood in the heart of the ruins, shadows curling around her like old friends. Once, this had been her sanctuary, a place of laughter and life. Now, only silence greeted her. Her fingers brushed against the cold stone of the shattered throne, a hollow ache spreading through her chest. It was as if the world had forgotten them, buried them under layers of time and dust. She closed her eyes, letting the memories flood back—the day she had been taken, the dark spell that had bound her, and the centuries lost in the blink of an eye. Everyone she loved, everyone she knew, was gone. All that remained was her, a ghost of a forgotten era, with only shadows for company. But she would not let their deaths be in vain. She would find the one responsible, and she would make them pay.

"Why?" she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. The shadows around her seemed to stir, as if answering her call. They whispered back, unintelligible murmurs that resonated with her pain. Marielle clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She had been a fool, so easily ensnared by the dark spell that had stolen her life. She had trusted the wrong people, believed in alliances that had been nothing more than lies. The spell had taken her away, and when she finally managed to come back, everything she knew had been turned to ashes.

She had no idea how long she had been gone. Centuries, perhaps millenia. Time had no meaning where she had been trapped. But she knew, with a certainity that burned in her veins that someone had orchestrated it all. Someone had wanted her court destroyed, her people erased from history.

Marielle looked at her shadows, her only companions left, her resolve hardening. She would uncover the truth behind the destruction of her court. With a final look at the shattered remnants of her past, Marielle turned and walked away, her cloak of shadows trailing behind her like a veil of night. The path ahead was uncertain, but she would walk it. For her people, for her court, for the shadows that never abandoned her. She would walk it until the end.

For over a month, Marielle went from place to place, hiding in the shadows and listening in on any and every promising conversation regarding the courts. It had been tough, coming back from being trapped for so long, expecting your court to be there but only finding ruins and dust. Marielle had to get used to this new world and she did, quite quickly, of course. Though her resentment for everyone did not lessen one bit.

How could everyone just forget her court? Her people? Did her people's history get wiped out so long ago that no one cares to remember anymore?

She studied the maps and read the books that she could find, though she stuck to the shadows, preferring not to reveal her face, for she could easily stand out due to her unique looks. She learned all about the new courts, the most recent wars, treaties and all regarding this new world. She even slowly began teaching herself the common language, quickly getting the hang of it due to her impressive educational background.

But she needed more, she needed to find more. And as if the Gods above heard her whispers, they dropped a very crucial knowledge right on to her lap.

The Unity Ball. Tomorrow evening.

That was her chance to see all these leaders or...high lords, as they call themselves, in one place at the same time. Her chance to secretly snoop around and gather whatever information she could find.

Marielle sighed and leaned back in her chair, staring at the board and it's contents in front of her. She had written all about the new world. Her theories, her analysis, the high lords, their families, the wars and their causes, which court could be the suspect and so on. Ronan would have laughed at her if he saw her now, possibly calling her a scrollhead for getting deeply engrossed in this. She smiled at the memory of his face and the thought of his name.

She had written and outlined in great detail about everyone who is currently an important figure. All except the Night Court. Marielle looked at the scriptures beside her. There is Rhysand, he is the high lord of this Night Court, even though during her timeline, the land was called Nythoria, filled with magic and mystery. She shook her head, bringing her thoughts back.

Then, there is the high lady, Feyre Archeron, a human-turned fae who apparently saved everyone from long years of torture. Lucky them, Marielle only wishes she could have had a savior like Feyre. Next she read another scripture about her sisters, Elain, Nesta, her mate Cassian and everyone else until all that was left from the close relations to Rhysand was one name, Azriel.

"The spymaster, the high lord's brother, raised in the Illyrian mountains together, a great warrior whatever, whatever." Marielle rolled her eyes. Since when did fae get so cocky? Everytime she reads about them, there are at least ten different lines of praise rather than actual information about the figure.

Marielle was about to close the scripture and call it a day when her eye caught onto one word.

Shadowsinger.

She furrowed her brows, a tiny sliver of hope rising within her chest.

"The shadowsinger, controlling shadows that allow him to blend in with darkness, constantly swirling beside him, one of the most rare abilities in the history of fae."

Marielle's eyes widened as she kept reading more and more about him. Yes, his parents didn't hail from her court but his powers....

This was promising. Maybe Azriel is also interested in knowing more about his powers and their history, how or why he has them? Marielle didn't know the details, the information and knowledge on this shadowsinger being very limited.

Maybe she could warn him? He possibly doesn't know of her court either. Maybe if she sent a word to him, he would get curious and began searching too? And if she secretly checked on the Night court from time to time, maybe they would be able to find something? But...the Day Court is the one most known for their libraries and knowledge, or atleast what's left of them after Amarantha destroyed most of them.

That means maybe she could get Helion on the job too? Surely he would get curious too if she told him to tell Azriel the message. Hopefully, her plan would work and she wouldn't be the only one doing the work. Hopefully, these strangers will be able to find something.

They can, right? They have all that power and resources, might as well put them to good use.

It's all set then, tomorrow, she won't only sneak around the palace to gather anything related to what she needs, but also speak with the high lord of Day. Let him know of her message that she needs him to deliver to Azriel.

********

One thing is for sure, the Day court is the most breathtaking one out of all the others. The palace itself, an architectural marvel, rises majestically with its walls of pale, sunlit stone that seem to glow warmly. Its spires and towers reach towards the sky, adorned with intricate carvings of sun motifs and celestial patterns that catch and reflect the light, creating a dazzling display of shifting shadows and highlights.

The gardens surrounding the palace are a spectacle of vibrant colors. Blossoming flowers in every hue imaginable—crimson roses, golden marigolds, and violet irises—create a stunning mosaic against the backdrop of lush, well-tended lawns. Fountains and reflective pools are scattered throughout, their surfaces catching the sunlight and adding a touch of magic with the constant play of light and water.

Inside, the Day Court's palace is equally breathtaking. The interiors are flooded with natural light, thanks to expansive windows that allow the sun to pour in uninterrupted. The grand hallways and are decorated with rich tapestries and fabrics in warm, golden tones, enhancing the feeling of warmth and radiance.

The floors are often made of polished marble or fine stone that reflects the sunlight, creating a sense of grandeur and space. High ceilings are adorned with intricate, gilded moldings and frescoes depicting celestial scenes and sunlit landscapes. The walls are lined with artworks and sculptures that celebrate the light and warmth of the Court.

Yes, this place doesn't really match with Marielle's darkness and if she were to step out into the light she would stick out like a sore thumb with her dark clothes but....for some reason this one is the only place which brought her true comfort and warmth and it's definitely not because of the sun.

She stuck to the corners, the shadows as she navigated her way through the palace. Unfortunately, she couldn't find anything useful and the libraries were very well protected. Marielle had to give it to the Day court, they knew how to protect their most powerful possessions. Her mother could take an example from them-

Her mother, is dead.

Marielle shook her head, reigning the tears in. She gave herself only a day to mourn her lost life. Only a day. Then, fury and thirst for revenge overtook her as she began gathering knowledge all about the new world.

You are the last of your people, Marielle. You can not die until you get justice for them. All of them.

"Do I know you?" That voice...it's Helion. Well, seems like the shadow she sent to get his attention did well enough. Earlier, when Marielle saw all the high lords, she only looked at them once to make sure that they are who she believes them to be. But it was Helion, the high lord of the Day Court that she couldn't stop looking at more than once.

He was very muscular and his crown of golden spikes seemed to only add to his shimmering appearance. Dark brown skin, onyx hair, a blinding smile....this male was truly the sun personified as everyone calls him.

Don't get ahead of yourself, Marielle. You hate too much brightness.

That thought brought her back from her daydream as she heard the high lord speak again, this time much closer.

"Uhh, you do not seem like someone I have met-"

He talks too much, too. "Tell Azriel that they are all dead."

That seemed to shut him up as Marielle just stared at the water, unblinking, the hood of her cloak covering her face almost entirely.

"What? I don't understand. Who is dead? Who are you?"

Alright, she did not have the patience for this. Maybe this was a mistake, she shouldn't have alerted anyone. Yes, you should do it alone, Marielle.

As she turned around and began walking away, Marielle could hear Helion's fast footsteps right behind her as he followed her. This male-

"What are you talking about? What is happening? Do you need help? Who are you trying to stop?"

"I don't need any help. I simply came here to lure you in so that you could deliver my message to Azriel."

"Why can't you tell him yourself? Why aren't you in the ball? Where are you even from-"

Mother above, when does this male stop talking? "You talk too much, high lord. I must go, just let Azriel know of the news." She had to get out of here immediately.

But Helion, it seems, just loves to blabber. "Go where? I can help you! Whatever it is, do you need help?"

That made her pause. Why would he even offer to help her? He doesn't even know her! Does this high lord just go around offering help to anyone who may be a threat to his people? She clearly misjudged him then, Helion was an idiot.

As she began gathering her powers, Marielle said her final words. "I don't need any help." And then, as if she never even was here, Marielle summoned her shadows and disappeared.

As she came back to the abandoned little cottage that was barely big enough to even hold one bed, Marielle began gathering her things. Everything was set in motion now. And she was sure that they would be looking for her too. Marielle couldn't stay here for any longer. She took all that she needed, put her other cloak back on, and left the cottage. Then, she let go of her shadows, and watched as they destroyed the already broken down cottage, leaving back no trails.

See, this was always the difference between her shadows and anyone elses. They were very crazy, having a mind of their own and if she didn't keep and iron grip on them, Marielle feared what they would do to everyone except her once they were freed.

Of course, them being crazy wasn't the only thing that made her unique. That made her stand out. But, Marielle wasn't about to explain that to anyone.

*********

After weeks of tracking down leads that ultimately yielded little, Marielle stumbled upon a new rumor—one that hinted at a hidden archive containing forgotten knowledge about ancient fae magic. This archive was supposedly located within the heart of a remote mountain range, a place whispered about in hushed tones among scholars and adventurers.

Determined to investigate, Marielle set out for the mountains. The journey was arduous, marked by treacherous paths and unyielding weather. But her persistence paid off when she discovered the entrance to a concealed cave. Inside, the cave led to a series of underground chambers that had been untouched for centuries. Her excitement grew as she uncovered ancient texts and artifacts, each one offering pieces of the puzzle she was desperate to solve.

In one of the chambers, she found a scroll describing a ritual that supposedly had the power to manipulate time—a ritual that might help her understand or even reverse what had happened with the artifact she accidentally triggered. Marielle’s heart raced as she unrolled the scroll, carefully reading the instructions. This could be the key to finding a way back to her own time, or at least gaining more insight into her predicament.

But as she continued to decipher the scroll, a sudden noise echoed through the cavern. Her instincts kicked in, and she quickly concealed herself in the shadows, clutching the scroll tightly. A group of rugged mercenaries, clearly hired to guard the archive, had discovered her presence. They moved with practiced stealth, their eyes scanning the dim light of the cavern.

Marielle knew she had to act quickly. She summoned her shadows to create a barrier, trying to buy herself some time. When the mercenaries breached her shadow defenses, she wielded her powers to form weapons from the darkness around her—shadowy swords, whips, and bows materialized at her command. She fought valiantly, her weapons striking with precision and force.

Despite her best efforts, the mercenaries were relentless. Their numbers and skill began to overwhelm her. As she fought, one of them landed a blow with a jagged blade, cutting deeply into her side. The pain was immediate and excruciating, blood pouring from the wound and staining her clothes and the cavern floor.

Even as she summoned a shadowy bow and arrows to try and hold them off, her strength began to falter. She shifted the weapons into a defensive wall of shadows, but it was clear she was running out of energy. The mercenaries pressed harder, breaking through her defenses.

In a desperate move, Marielle tried to summon all her remaining power to create a final, massive weapon—a shadowy scythe intended to clear her path and provide a means of escape. However, the strain on her injured body was too much. The spell was unstable and chaotic, the shadows flickering wildly.

The cave around her began to blur as she chanted an incantation, attempting to teleport to safety. A blinding flash of light engulfed her, and she felt herself being pulled through a vortex of swirling magic. The sensation was disorienting, her vision clouded by the chaotic magic and the agony of her wound.

When the light finally faded, Marielle found herself collapsing on the polished marble floor of a grand hall. Her vision was hazy, but she could make out the opulent surroundings of the Day Court's palace—the golden walls, intricate tapestries, and the radiant sunlight streaming through the expansive windows.

Helion, the high lord of the Day Court, was standing nearby. His golden crown gleamed brilliantly, and his expression shifted from surprise to concern as he saw her crumpled form on the floor.

Barely conscious, Marielle managed to whisper through her pain, "Maybe I do need help."

As darkness began to close in around her, she saw Helion rushing towards her with a mixture of worry and determination on his face. The last thing she felt before succumbing to the blackness was the high lord’s presence—his powerful aura and the sense that perhaps, for the first time in a long while, she might find the assistance she so desperately needed.

"In the hush of the twilight, where shadows gently play, Dreams are spun in moonlight, until the break of day. Close your eyes, my starlight, let the night unfold, In the arms of darkness, let your dreams take hold.

Stars will guide you softly, through the velvet night, Shadows dance around you, cloaked in silver light. Whispered secrets linger, where the dark meets the sky, In the veil of twilight, you will never say goodbye.

Rest beneath the moonbeam, let the night caress, In the realm of shadows, find your peace and rest. For in the darkened echoes, where our hearts reside, You are safe, my darling, with the night as your guide."

"In an age shrouded with twighlight, there was a time when the shadows danced with light." Marielle whispered as her grandmother kissed her cheek and stroked her hair.

"Good, you remember the final sentence of the song."

Marielle gigled as she said, "How could I not, granny moon?" You always sing it to all of us!"

Her grandmother laughed. "Oh my moonflower, how I love it when you call me that!"

A knock on the door came before one of the servants stepped in.

"My Noble Dowager, the Empress calls you to the throne chamber. Says it is of upmost importance."

Marielle's grandmother sighed before landing another gentle peck to her head and getting up from the bed.

"I must go see what your mother wants. Sleep now, moonflower."

Marielle watched with a small pout, as her grandmother left the room. Her granny moon was like the silver moon personified, with her silver eyes and silver hair. Marielle always wished that she would look like her but, alas, she did not.

Her granny moon always had time for her, even when her mother and siblings didn't. Granny moon even once whispered her a secret that out of all of her grandkids, Marielle was her favorite.

She did not want to let go, she did not want to leave this sweet memory. But she did. Because Marielle was now swimming in a pool of water, darkness all around her.

Her granny moon, her mother, her aunts, her sisters and brothers, her cousins, her friends, her people, they were all dead. Her home was no longer there.

What happened? Who did this?

Marielle didn't have any clue, and the only clue she had, that scroll that she found, got ripped during the attack. Now, she was swimming in an endless void-

"Hey! Please don't die on me!"

"I mean, I don't even know your name or anything so..."

Were these faint echoes of Helion's voice?!

How did she even end up in his presence again?

There was a bright light coming in from somewhere.

Marielle hated light. She hated Helion and she hated everyone else too, they ruined her life. Doesn't matter if none of them ever existed when she did, her whole court is dead while theirs is alive and well.

She felt her powers draining as her body slowly got submersed under the water. Maybe this was her final moments alive and she had to relieve her most comforting memory. See her granny moon for a final time.

She was in pain and somewhere far off, Marielle could hear more of Helion's voice but she couldn't listen anymore. She needed sleep. She needed....

Marielle closed her eyes as her consciousness too, got completely submersed underwater.

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

Taglist: @rcarbo1

[prodagustd]

love | myg

Summary: A compilation of memories as an epilogue.

this is part six of so it goes: series masterlist

< part five

—pairing: rapper!yoongi x reader

—rating: +18

—genre: friends with benefits (kind of? they're in love) to lovers, lots and lots of fluff, smut

—warnings/tags: cursing, mentions of alcoholism, mentions of death, explicit content, unprotected sex, dirty talk etcetc

—words: 16k

a/note: HI FRIENDS!!! I'm finally back with an epilogue for so it goes 😥. I couldn't come with another name for this part lmao but I hoped you like it, it took me so long to finish it and I'm so excited to post it!! Thank you for waiting for me <3 Enjoy it !!! Please feel free to discuss this part in the asks, as always feedback is very appreciated :)

Yoongi’s childhood home

It has been a long time since Yoongi felt purely in love. In the past, love always came with doubts, fears and an upsetting feeling on his stomach that made him want to vomit everytime he woke up. Love was presented to him with more cons than pros, it was like a dark night trying to find your partner in the middle of the dance floor, like fighting under the rain outside of the nightclub, it was a good moment being ruined by a mocking grin and cruel words, it was like having to hold your breath until you turned blue.

Despite that, Yoongi was not completely at odds with love, he loved many things. He loved his job, his dog, his family and friends, but his tired heart was convinced that the type of love that was supposed to keep you awake at night… wasn’t for him, he just forgot about it, and in consequence of that he stopped waiting for it too, so you just could imagine how confused he was the night he met you. You were love walking in high heels and a black dress that was too short to be yours, you were love wearing bright red lipstick as you kissed him goodbye, you were love laughing at him because you would never settle for a one night stand with him. You were love punching him in the face, announcing that you were about to tear him apart.

During those moments of the night when the lights of the club turned red, the remains of his heart were stuck on the inside of his chest as he kissed another stranger to drown the feeling, to try to bury it in the backyard of his numb mind. Yoongi was a dark cloud moving into the room threatening to rain, but you only saw a tall man ogling you with tired eyes and a smirk capable of killing any girl, any girl but not you, never you, you couldn’t allow yourself to fall for a man who wouldn’t look at you twice. Back then you were sure he was the kind of guy who never noticed girls like you in the daylight, you weren’t as astonishing as the girls he had been with in the past, too rough on the edges, too normal.

You came from two different worlds, Yoongi was doing concerts and throwing after parties all night until the next morning, you woke up at six in the morning and got ready to catch a class at seven. He produced music and wrote songs, you studied history and tutored english to middle school kids. While he was mingling with superstars and models you had a small group of college friends who enjoyed staying home, eating pizza and drinking beer. There was no way you were compatible, from your hobbies to your life styles, to the movies you liked, you were just… different, no amount of mysterious glances across the room could change that.

So, why did he kiss you for the first time that afternoon all those months ago? Was it the sun that was about to set, encouraging him to do it? Was it the devil sitting on his left shoulder? Was it you, just begging him with your eyes to do it? There was no explanation for that kind of thing, but he came back to that memory every other day, he couldn't remember a girl who kissed him so sweetly. Was it your lipgloss or it was you? He swore it was just you.

For you, love came in waves during short periods of time. There was always love in your circle, in your friend’s arms and your childhood home, even the other kind of love always came but never stayed. Yoongi was a rare presence in your life during some time, he was gray between all the defined black and white in your life, which always upset you.

Love comes and goes all the time, but why couldn’t he stay? After so many years of accepting the short time that your past lovers offered, it was strange to want a person so badly, it was strange to want more, to even think about it, you were not used to the feeling of something lasting. However, when he laid beside you every night you wished he could stay against all odds, you wished he could stay in your bed until the next morning, you wished he could stay for breakfast and for the rest of the week if he wanted, but even that would not be enough. Not his burning touch over your skin or the proximity of his body during the night, not his hands finding yours under the table in a crowded room, not the hundred of his kisses or the sweetness of his words could be enough unless you told him the truth. But, could you be sure that would have saved both of you from the mess, the drunk texts and the drunk fights and the drunk-everything? You like to think that it would have helped a little bit, but maybe — just maybe — Yoongi needed a slap in the face before hearing the truth, just then he would realize that being in love wasn’t so difficult after all, and to be your boyfriend seemed to be the easiest thing he had ever done.

It has been a long time since Yoongi felt so purely in love, love like it’s supposed to be, love itself. It turned out to be that he found love everywhere ever since, he found love in the mornings as he tasted the coffee you made for him, he found it in the note you left in your nightstand when you left before he woke up, he saw it in your eyes ever since you told him you loved him too. He had been so blind and you couldn’t blame him, you had been so clueless.

Two months into spring Yoongi had come to the realization that among all the chaos in his life, the calmness that came with your company was all he needed after a long day. It was simple, but it seemed to him that it took him a lifetime to find you (he swore it felt like more).

Loving you was easy, but he thought he needed a bit of practice in the relationship field. The concept of boyfriend had been altered by the months he spent being with you without being official, so what was he supposed to do now? Spend more time with you? Give you more kisses? He was obviously more comfortable than before, now he didn’t need to hold back, he was free from the anguish and the sinking feeling that he felt in the past every time you weren’t around. Now he felt safe, however, it was unclear to him how much of a boyfriend he needed to be, or what type of boyfriend you wanted.

Yoongi sighed for the third time since Jungkook arrived at his studio, trying to focus on the monitor in front of him without thinking of the song that Jungkook was humming and how it sounded just like the one you were singing that morning in the shower. He knew it, he was sure, but he couldn’t remember the name of it. Suddenly, Jungkook started whistling the song but still nothing came to mind, which started to annoy him.

Yoongi sighed again.

“Am I bothering you?” Jungkook asked, a little bit offended. Yoongi shook his head without saying anything. “Are you sure?” He insisted, but Yoongi just nodded. “You’re quiet today.”

“I’m always quiet.” He replied.

“Mmm, yes but more quiet than ever.” He said, spinning in the swivel chair beside Yoongi. “You don’t like my song?” He kept asking, now starting to wonder if Yoongi didn't like the project that Jungkook brought last week for him to work on, but he liked the song, he just wasn’t thinking about it, he was thinking about the song he was whistling.

“It’s not your song, I’m just thinking.” Yoongi said, resting his back on the chair and spinning just like Jungkook did a second ago.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Jungkook offered, determined to know what was distracting Yoongi that afternoon.

“What was that song you were humming?” He asked.

“That’s what you were thinking?” Jungkook wanted to check, knowing it was surely something else that kept Yoongi zoning out.

“Kind of.” Yoongi answered.

“Paramore.” Jungkook laughed “Do you know it? The only exception? Your girlfriend used to overplay that song when I met her.”

Yoongi threw his head back, relieved to finally remember the song after being in his mind since he left his house. Jungkook started calling you that ever since you and Yoongi started dating, he copied Namjoon just to tease him, but it only put a smile on Yoongi’s face. His friend on his right seemed to be the happiest person when he found out that you and Yoongi made up, it was like seeing his parents threaten to divorce but then seeing them coming back together. (Obviously, Yoongi had no idea that half of that happiness came from knowing that his plan had worked, but he swore with blood that he wasn’t going to say a thing, after all, it will be useful for him in the future in case he needed to extort you).

“She was singing it today in the shower.” Yoongi informed him.

Jungkook giggled. “Creepy.” He said.

“Just a little bit.”

It wasn’t that creepy actually, you knew Junkook since you were both nineteen, you were almost connected like twins. If someone knew you as well as Yoongi did, that was Jungkook.

That thought stayed in his mind for a second, and after a while, it lit a lightbulb on top of Yoongi’s head.

“Was that all?” The youngest kept pushing, not fully convinced.

Yoongi thought about it.

“Mmm… No.” He said. Hoping that his friend would help him, but more importantly, that he wouldn’t laugh at him.

Lately he couldn’t name you in front of his friends without them acting like middle school kids, teasing him until his face turned red, and Jungkook was the most annoying of all of them.

“Are you not going to tell me?” He pushed one last time.

“Only if you don’t tell anybody.” Yoongi conditioned, making Jungkook frown.

“You’d be surprised how good I am at keeping secrets.” Jungkook raised an eyebrow, but Yoongi didn’t catch Jungkook’s hint, luckily, he just rolled his eyes.

“It’s going to be our… anniversary? monthiversary? Whatever you call it. The third one, in two weeks.”

“Three months already?” Jungkook asked, surprised that time has passed so quickly. “Wow, what about it?”

“I’ve been thinking.” He said “What do you and Bora do on your anniversary?”

Jungkook looked up at the ceiling, trying to remember every single thing that he did with his girlfriend when that day came around.

“It’s different every time.” He answered “Sometimes we go to a restaurant if we feel like it, but sometimes we just go for ice cream before the day ends. Sometimes I buy her flowers and sometimes she buys me something I like. But it’s different for everyone.” Jungkook paused, observing his friend being absorbed by his own thoughts. “Why? Is that what you were thinking? What to do on your… monthiversary?”

“Kind of. I think I don’t know how to be her boyfriend.” Yoongi confessed, avoiding Jungkook’s gaze to not feel like he was making a fool of himself.

Jungkook didn’t laugh about it, but he found it a bit curious.

“How is that you don’t know?” He questioned.

Yoongi spinned on the chair again. “I mean, what if she feels like our relationship didn’t change at all from when I wasn’t her boyfriend? What if she thinks it’s the same and she gets bored?” He asked, letting the words out like it wasn’t the main concern of the month.

Jungkook was a bit surprised by the way Yoongi’s mind worked, just like Namjoon was when Yoongi told him that he couldn’t allow himself to be happy with you because he had a fight with Jimin. But like before, this made sense for Yoongi, and was a perfectly coherent concern.

“Are you serious?” Jungkook laughed, “A relationship is not defined by what you do on your anniversary.”

“Is it not?” Yoongi joked, but he was still a little unsure.

“I don’t think so.” He said “I’m sure she’s not going to get bored of you, you keep her entertained. She’s in love with you, buddy, you’re not getting rid of her anytime soon.”

Yoongi was aware of that, you spent your free days glued to his chest and sleeping on his bed like it was yours, you made sure he knew every day how in love you were. He knew you loved him, but that wasn’t his problem.

“No, I mean, I know that. But I don’t want her to feel like it’s the same as before, I wonder if she can tell the difference, I hope she does. I just want to be… you know, a good boyfriend.”

Jungkook watched Yoongi playing with his fingers and he bit back a smile, wondering what it was that you had to leave Yoongi so… lost. And most importantly, what you did to him to have him talking about his feelings so openly. Jungkook never thought that Yoongi would try to come to him for relationship advice, but there he was, worried about being a decent boyfriend.

He tried not to tease his friend, he knew that if he did Yoongi would suddenly shut up.

“To be fair, you were already acting like a couple before making it official, so I think it’s normal to feel that way.” Jungkook tried to advise “But if you want her to see the difference, you should probably make her see that you’re serious with her. For example, I know she hasn't met your parents yet, right?”

Yoongi frowned, shaking his head. “No, she hasn’t.”

“There you go.” Jungkook winked at him “She likes simple things, if you take her to meet your parents she would feel like you are making her part of your life. Anyone can meet your friends, but not everyone meets your parents. She will take it as something special.”

That idea never crossed his mind until now. He still remembered when his mom called him when Yoongi’s brother told her that he was seeing a girl when he came to visit Yoongi, back then Yoongi ignored her and told her that you weren’t his girlfriend and didn’t give any other explanation. Yoongi loved his mom, but she was intense, even if he was the youngest of the family, she thought that he should be already married, she thought he should be already settled down with a wife and everything, but Yoongi was never the kind to follow the rules, let alone his parents’ rules.

The problem wasn’t you, it was just the way his mom never liked any of his girlfriends, so she never invited them to their house. This time was different, he knew that both his mom and dad would love you, so maybe Jungkook wasn’t so wrong after all.

Yoongi could still feel an annoying feeling on his stomach everytime he remembered the fight that you had , he remembered when you mentioned how he told you he was going to take you to meet his mom, so this could be an opportunity to make it up to you.

“That doesn’t sound bad.” Yoongi just said.

“Right? I’m always right.” Jungkook bragged “And about your monthiversary date, you should talk about it with her, ask her what she wants to do, it’s as simple as that.”

“Fine. I’ll take your advice, but I know you and I know her, so don’t say a word about this conversation.” Yoongi warned.

“It’s okay, my lips are sealed.”

Later that month Yoongi was just finishing taking a shower at his parent’s place after a long day. That morning he put his bag on the trunk of his car as he thought of what Jungkook said, and without him wanting to, the expression of his mother’s face every time he came to visit appeared on his mind.

When he got in the car he put on a cap and sunglasses and you laughed. He had been asking himself if Jungkook’s idea was working ever since he asked if you wanted to come and visit his family with him, you said yes without hesitation but didn’t say much else until that day. You took off your shoes at the beginning of the ride and played music until you fell asleep.

It was a long ride to Yoongi’s hometown, and you seemed to enjoy it until you made your last stop at a gas station. You got out of the car and bought some snacks, when you were getting back your boyfriend hugged you from behind and told you you were about to arrive. He kissed your cheek and circled the car to get on his seat, he didn’t see your face properly, but if he had done it he would have seen the smile on your face disappear. You got in the car with him and after fifteen minutes you asked if he could roll the windows down.

“I think I’m getting car sick.” You explained, sinking in your seat as you felt how your stomach turned upside down.

“Carsick?” He repeated. “You never get car sick.”

“I do.” You tried to argue, but he didn't believe you.

“I’ve been driving for three hours and you were just fine.” He told you, but you decided to ignore him. He looked at you for a brief second before turning his gaze to the road again. You shut your eyes close and frowned in discomfort, hugging your tummy like you were about to vomit. “Or is it that you’re nervous?”

You opened your eyes, offended. “I’m not nervous, I told you I’m getting car sick.”

Maybe Yoongi tried to forget you so hard months ago that he ended up memorizing every single thing about you. Only after you began to date him, you realized how much he knew about you. He bragged about it, and it was cute when he remembered that you didn’t like mayonnaise or what kind of wine you liked, but it was annoying when you couldn’t keep a secret away from him because he could read it in your face.

The truth was that Yoongi made the mistake of telling you how his mother didn't have a good relationship with his past girlfriends, in fact she didn’t even have a relationship at all with them. She had met all of them in other circumstances but never invited them to their house, she only needed one meeting to decide if she didn’t like them, and now you were in physical pain just thinking of the possibility that she didn’t like you either.

Of course that all this fuss came from your last experience with your ex boyfriend, who’s mother made it very clear that she didn’t like you. You didn’t know what it was, maybe the fact that you weren’t catholic, or maybe that she liked Dan’s ex girlfriend more, who knows? You didn’t want that to happen again. Different from Dan, you really wanted to stay in Yoongi’s life.

When you saw the first sign with the name of Yoongi’s hometown next to the highway, you finally admitted it, hoping that your boyfriend could give you an answer.

“How do I know if your mom doesn’t like me?” You asked him, automatically making him scoff.

“She won’t dislike you.” He just said.

Yoongi was a man of few words, but that wasn’t good enough for you.

“How do you know?” You insisted.

“Because I like you, don’t I?” He smugly answered, making you want to rip off his head for laughing at you.

“But you said your mother thinks you have bad taste in women.” You reminded him, but he shook his head in denial.

“You can’t rely on that.” He said “My mother also thinks that I should be a doctor, she has her own perspective of reality and it’s impossible to please her.”

“That doesn’t make me any less nervous.” You whined.

“You don’t have to be nervous, I’m sure that both of them will love you. You made them a pie!” He tried to encourage you, but you weren’t content yet, your mind couldn’t stop making scenarios.

“But what if they think ‘What a pretentious bitch, she wants to buy us with food’?” You kept insisting. Your question seemed rational to ask, but it only made him fail to suppress his laugh.

“They will think ‘What a nice girl, she made us a pie’!” He acted.

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t know how to make you believe me.” He laughed “I can tell you the truth, my mom is a complicated woman, it’s impossible to please her, but if you just be yourself she will like you, if you’re trying too hard that’s when she will dislike you.”

You still weren’t happy with his answer. He seemed too cool about the whole situation, you didn’t understand how he wasn’t at least a little nervous.

“Your advice sucks.” You spat, crossing your arms over your chest “Then, what if she doesn’t like the way I am?”

He sighed, thinking about it for a second. “I mean…” He said, dragging his words “What’s not to like?”

Then, you punched his arm, making him whine.

“Quit playing with me.” You cried.

At this point, Yoongi was just trying to mess with you. He wasn’t lying when he said his mom was complicated, but he also knew how excited she was to welcome Yoongi’s first girlfriend after so long. He knew she would be happy just knowing he wasn’t single anymore, but after meeting you he was sure she was going to love you. Maybe it was cruel, but he decided to keep that for himself.

“But I’m serious!” He protested, rubbing his arm “First, I know my dad will like you, and even if my mom is intense, she will like you too because I know her and I know you. You get along with older people, you’re smart, you know how to cook, you’re a future teacher. What else can I say to stop you from vomiting in my car?”

You kept silent for a minute like he had just scolded you, reevaluating if he had made a good point or not. Maybe you were right and someone like Yoongi’s mom would never like any of his son’s girlfriends, but maybe Yoongi was right and you were overreacting. It hurt you to admit that you were.

Yoongi had never seen a person more nervous than him to see his mom. In front of his eyes it appeared the same image of his mom’s face that he saw on his mind earlier that morning. Years passed before Yoongi stopped doing what his mother thought was best for him, even if sometimes she was right, sometimes she was not, he learned to stop caring what she thought of him. His brother had a more stable job, but it was not until recently that he got a stable girlfriend, so he had two points in the game. Even though his family was proud of him now, years ago her mother considered that his job was not stable and he had no girlfriend until three months ago, so back then he had zero points. Yoongi said fuck the game long ago, his mother’s claims had no effect on him anymore, but he didn’t expect you to react like this when he told you about his mother’s behaviour with his past girlfriends, he realized it was only logical, even if he knew his mother would like you.

“Stop.” You told him, the feeling on your stomach slowly disappearing.”You’re obsessed with me.”

You watched him trying to hide a smirk, but he didn’t deny it.

“You stop.” He said “Stop worrying, I’m sure everything is going to be fine.”

You were not willing to admit he was right, you decided to change the subject.

“So… Will they make us sleep in separate rooms?” You asked, “Since we’re not married.”

Your question was only innocent, it was genuine, but the clarification made Yoongi laugh.

“My mother is insane, not conservative.” He said, like it was hard to tell the difference. “Maybe a little old-fashioned, but no. Besides, I don’t think she thinks I’m saving myself for marriage.”

You rolled your eyes. “I was just asking.” You clarified “It’s not like I’m… fucking you in your parent’s house.”

“Why not?” He teased you, but you ignored him, refusing to take the conversation any further.

That seemed to clear the air at least for now, but when you arrived at his house he was not surprised at all to see you get along with his parents, especially his mother. You didn’t know that you already had a few points in her game thanks to Yoongi’s brother, and you gained even more when you offered to help with cooking. Yoongi thought that was a good sign, his mom never let anyone but his brother help with her food.

His mom kissed both of you in the face as she sent his dad to leave your bags in Yoongi’s room, and not even half an hour later you were in the kitchen, chatting with her as you rolled up your sleeves and started cutting carrots.

What a fool you had made of him, he laughed at him in secret when random sentences appeared on his mind when he looked at you. You were wearing a brown sweater and blue shorts and for a moment he thought you looked like the last day of spring, like summer but not quite summer, like summer before he met you, summer when he didn’t know your name or how your mouth tasted. He saw the dark green color of the walls and smelled the coffee from the morning and it seemed like you always belonged there, somehow, he found you just in time before his mom decided to change the color of the walls like she was telling you, you camouflaged yourself in them like you were part of the kitchen, like you were part of his home. You told his mom that it was a shame to change the color, you liked it that way.

When the food was ready you sat beside him. It only took one question from Yoongi’s dad, who just asked how old you were, to stop his mother from holding herself back and start bombing you with every question you could imagine, you didn’t mind, she was just curious. You tried to ask questions back, trying to know them just as much as they wanted to know you, but it was difficult when Yoongi’s mom was barely interested in something else that wasn’t your relationship with her son. From your job, to your career, your family and friends, and how and when you meet Yoongi. He felt like an observant, like he was five years old and his mother told him that he could only stay at the adult’s table if he could keep quiet. You always said that you struggled at being social, but you seemed so natural as you laughed and moved your hands, telling his father that you were sure that you were graduating this year.

“Yoongi barely graduated from high school!” His dad said, making you giggle.

After lunch he offered to wash the dishes as he saw you disappear in the back door with both his mom and dad, she explained that she wanted to introduce you to her plants in the garden. He craned his neck and tried to spy on you from the window of the kitchen, but he could hardly see you or hear anything. He was not sure if he could leave you alone with them yet, but he knew that you knew enough about plants to charm his mom.

As the day came to an end, you forgot why you were worried that morning. That night, Yoongi searched for you in his living room and found you sitting with his parents on his couch, freshly out of the shower as you shared a cup of tea and his mother showed you some family photos. Yoongi tried not to roll his eyes, it was just a matter of time until his mother pulled their family albums for the guest to see. He sat next to you and noticed that all of you were looking at a picture of him and his brother on a school day, there was a big smile plastered on Jeasung’s face, but a six year old Yoongi looked like someone stole his favorite toy, you laughed thinking it was the same upset face he had when something was bothering him, he still looked the same.

Yoongi’s mom explained that his youngest son never liked to wear his high school uniform, she told you that she had to dress him several hours earlier so he could get used to it and forget he was wearing it when it was time to leave.

“Of course he never got used to it.” She complained, “But it’s normal, life itself it’s like a uniform for this kid.” His mother never failed to tease Yoongi, and he only laughed because he heard you laughing.

But she was not wrong, Yoongi always thought that his clothes didn’t fit him well and that his shoes were uncomfortable for him, he never liked being in his parent's car for too long because the seatbelt was too tight. He was irrationally afraid of thunder and the dark, he liked to stay at home most of the time and watched maybe too much tv. As a kid Yoongi thought that perhaps his body belonged to another planet, he believed that someone dropped him on earth and expected him to get used to this life, a life that wasn’t for him, to a bed that couldn't fit him, to a house full of rules that he didn’t know how to follow. When he grew up he was quick to blame the rural town he was raised in, he used to say that it held him back, but when he moved to the city he found out there was no apartment big enough to fit his heart. And when he met you last summer, he noticed that suddenly his clothes fitted him just right and that his shoes were never the problem. Maybe his body never belonged to earth or to mars, but belonged to you. As he watched you observing his baby photos he remembered what Jungkook said, you liked simple things, he realized he liked them too.

He spent an hour with you and his parents, until his father decided to go to bed and Yoongi noticed it was his turn to take a shower, but his mother didn’t care that it was almost midnight, instead she poured you another cup of tea.

“I’ll go to take a shower.” Yoongi announced, “After that, we’ll go to sleep.”

“You don’t tell me when it’s my bedtime.” You joked, turning the page of the birthday photo album.

But when Yoongi got out of the shower after twenty minutes, he opened the door of his bedroom and found you there, changing into your pajamas. You jumped, startled when you saw him “You scared me.”

Yoongi murmured a quick ‘sorry’, sitting at the edge of the bed as he observed you change, noticing that your pajamas were actually just an old shirt of his.

There were many scenarios where Yoongi pictured you and him together, but this was never one of them. You, in the middle of his childhood bedroom doing basic things such as getting ready to bed. It was different from the bedroom at his apartment, this was the bedroom where he grew up and knew all his life, all those events from today made him feel like an arrow pierced through his chest and made his heart bleed, like he was high and couldn’t open his eyes properly because he was so blinded of love.

He wouldn’t like to call it the honeymoon phase, that would annoy him, but he could tell he was so drunk in you that the withdrawal of you being apart could hurt him terribly. That night he hoped to get tangled with your body one last time before giving away all his fears, he hoped to get in bed, kiss your face and whisper the truth to you, you were part of him, you had embedded yourself in his soul and now he couldn’t picture his childhood home without thinking that you were part of it all along, he had been waiting for you, he had been waiting to feel like everything was okay.

“It’s strange seeing you here.” He told you, making you turn around to see him “It's like running into your teacher in the supermarket.”

You giggled. “It’s strange for me too, being in the room where you probably brought a hundred girls.”

Yoongi looked around his room, asking himself how you didn’t notice yet. He thought that the poster of Slam Dunk in the back of the door would have given him away, maybe the stickers of Batman in his wardrobe, but you were dead serious. “You are crazy if you think I ever brought a girl to this room.”

You frowned, walking to lay in bed next to him. “I don’t believe you.”

“I’m not lying.” He insisted “When my brother left for college and left me the room I was like fourteen, I was not very popular with girls back then.”

“And later?” You questioned.

“Later I moved in with Seokjin when I was like seventeen. Besides, the fear that I had of my mom finding out that I sneaked someone here was stronger than anything else.”

You looked like you were doing the math in your mind, after calculating, you said one simple word that made Yoongi choke. “Virgin.” You pronounced.

Yoongi glared at you, offended. “No, you’re wrong, that doesn’t mean I was a virgin before moving in with Seokjin.”

“So your bed is a virgin.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Now Yoongi turned to you, laying on top of you and placing himself between your legs to kiss you softly. He was just trying to be sweet, but you knew better. He grabbed your hips and pressed you firmly against him, breaking the kiss to leave a few pecks on your lips. “I mean, if you want to…” He offered, making you scoff.

“I will kick you in the balls, stop.” You whined, grabbing him by his shoulders to stop him from kissing you again.

“Okay, I’ll stop for now.” He said, not really convincing you. For now, he changed the subject. “What did my mom tell you in the garden?”

You squint your eyes, trying to remember “Oh, nothing, really.” You replied, tilting your head to see him more clearly. “We were talking about her plants. She wanted to know how many I could name.”

He laughed just by thinking of it, of course his mom would do that.

“What, like a test?”

“It seemed like it.” You said, laughing too. “But the good news is that I think I passed.”

“That gave you points.”

“Do you think?” You wondered out loud “Do you think she liked me?”

“Wasn’t it obvious?” He laughed, “I’ll get her review tomorrow, but dad already told me.”

“What did he say?” You wanted to know.

You noticed that Yoongi’s dad was very quiet, just like him, he said just the right amount of words, unlike his mother, who couldn't stop talking for a minute. Yoongi said that they complemented each other.

“He said you were a very polite girl, and that you were funny but too pretty for me.”

You pouted “That’s not true, you are a pretty boy.”

He smiled, fighting for his life not to blush “That’s what I said as well.”

“They don’t have much faith in you.” You joked. Yoongi sighed, thinking that it might be true, his dad joked and asked him where did he got you from, where in the word he had found you, he kept his answer to himself, he couldn’t say to his father that he felt like the stars aligned the day he met you, he would laugh in his face.

“You said it yourself, I have a bad boy reputation to keep up with.” He murmured, reminding you when he bought you a necklace and you said that you wouldn’t tell anyone that he was so sweet. “But I hoped that changed, he told me not to fuck up.”

You saw his smile and silently wondered when you were going to stop visibly melting under his gaze, the whole conversation had your heart jumping inside your chest, you were afraid it would run away from your chest.

“That’s great advice.” Your voice came as a whisper.

“Yeah, I mean, I’m trying.” He scoffed, laying his head on your shoulder and burying his nose in the crook of your neck.

As the silence took over the room, Yoongi felt your hands in the back of his neck, running your fingers through his hair and feeling like it was time to sleep, but Yoongi’s mind was still racing.

“Did you have a good time today?” He asked before you fell asleep, you just hummed in response. “Will you come back with me next time?”

“Yes.” You laughed “Will you bring me back?”

“Of course.” He murmured against your neck “I didn’t bring you here just to meet my parents.”

“Didn’t you?” You frowned, making raise his head to look at you again. He shook his head in response. “Was there another reason?”

While you grabbed the wet strands of his hair that fell on his face to curl them around your fingers, he pretended to think his answer. “Yes, I brought you here so you know that I’m serious about you, I want you to be part of every part of my life.” He tried to sound cool, he hoped you didn’t notice he practiced that sentence the whole ride while you were sleeping and minutes ago in the shower.

You couldn’t escape from his words when he was just centimeters away from your face, it was impossible not to blush.

“Where is this coming from?” You asked, not being able to hide your smile.

Where was this coming from? He remembered suddenly. Yoongi knew you from head to toe, he memorized every part of you face, he knew every single mole in your body, he knew what sound you made when you were about to wake up, he knew exactly what you liked and you didn’t like, yet it was ridiculous how unsure he was about your decision to stay with him. In that moment where the light from the lamp on his nightstand illuminated the right side of your face and made only one of your eyes shine, he looked at you and could only read one thing in your eyes; ‘finally’, they said. How relieved he was in that instant.

“From a lot of places.” He confessed. “I don’t want to hide how I feel and make the same mistakes twice, so I needed to tell you.”

It was not shocking to you that Yoongi had these thoughts once in a while, but you were happy that he was okay with talking about it with you. “It’s okay, you don’t need to worry about that.” You whispered “But it’s nice to hear that, I want you in my life too, for as long as I can keep you.”

Yoongi laughed, you had no idea that it was the other way around.

“Forever, then.” He offered, rubbing his nose against yours.

“Okay, but first you have to tell me you love me.” You murmured “To seal the deal, so I can be sure.”

“I love you, baby.” He said in a sweet tone, making your heart melt like it was the first time you were hearing it, like it was a confession.

“That’s good news, I love you too.”

Friends

You always believed that to be a good lover, you had to be a good friend first. Maybe that’s why things didn’t work out with your last boyfriend, he hardly ever cared about you the way you cared about him. What’s love if not friendship first? A friend is always there, always knows what to say and if that’s not the case, a friend always listens. A friend always saves your seat in crowded rooms and knows how to read your mind when you want to escape. A friend knows every part of you, even the embarrassing ones, the most damaged ones. A friend knows your past and knows your flaws, knows your favorite songs and the food you don’t like. A friend knows that one person you despise and talks shit about them with you even if they don’t know them, a friend knows your family drama and maybe the color of your toothbrush.

Yoongi was that kind of friend to you, except that he also was the kind of friend who kissed you during the nights and early in the morning, a friend who shared shirts and socks with you, a friend who memorized every part of your body and the kind who took showers with you. If Yoongi wasn’t your friend you couldn’t let him see you hungover, or allow him to hold your hair if you were vomiting in the bathroom, you considered that it was a perfect balance.

Eight months after you began dating, he had left and returned from tour after three months of not seeing him. You barely saw him at the airport when you welcomed him that morning, but as soon as you arrived at his apartment, he fell asleep on his bed after a short kissing session. You only visited him once last month when he surprised you with a plane ticket as a present when he couldn’t be there for your graduation, but a month was too long to be apart from him, even if he texted and called every day and sent pictures of him after his shows. Now his hair was longer and you could see a bit of facial hair on his chin, but you liked him like that.

You wished you could wait for him to wake up to spend the night with him, but he had come back a few days earlier and you already had plans to go to a bar with Yongsun and Nayeon that same night, but you had promised Yoongi that when you were done you would make Nayeon drop you at his apartment.

What is love if not friendship first? If Yoongi wasn't your friend, you would never have allowed him to see you in the state you were in when you came back to his house that night.

Yoongi was about to hit the tenth hour of sleep when he was woken up by the sound of someone trying to open the door. In the distance, he heard the key hitting the wood but never entering the lock, he knew it was you, but he was too sleepy to realize that you were far too drunk to open the door in the first try (or the second and third one). You told him you were coming back not after two, but when he looked at the clock on his nightstand and saw that it was almost five, he decided to stay in bed, thinking that you were just struggling to open the door in the dark. When he thought he was about to enter into another dream, his sleep was once again interrupted by the sound of your high heels stumbling through the hallway. Were you with someone? Your laugh could reach his ears from his bedroom, were you alone? What were you laughing about?

He should’ve known you weren’t in your five senses before your silhouette appeared at the entrance of your bedroom, now with your shoes in your hands, leaning on the wall as you tried not to stumble with your own feet. You clearly didn’t notice he was awake, so he took advantage of that.

In the dark, he saw you walking towards the mirror beside his bed, covering your mouth and trying not to laugh when you saw your reflection. Your make up was ruined and your hair was a mess, for some reason it was the funniest thing to you.

Yoongi waited silently on the bed until you decided to join him, but you seemed to be taking your time, soon enough you began stripping from your clothes as you danced to a song playing in your mind, then you began to hum it. You left your jacket on the floor, then you decided to unzip the black dress you were wearing, staying in your underwear only. Yoongi couldn’t recognize the song, he felt like it was a private moment between you and yourself only, even if he had seen you with less clothes than that, he felt guilty for spying on you, but it was too funny to look away. He tried not to laugh and pursed his lips when he saw that you had almost finished your little dance, you brushed your hair with your fingers and adjusted your underwear. Before you got into bed, you turned around and took one last look in the mirror, except this time you were notably checking your butt.

You giggled one last time before getting under the covers. He closed his eyes, scared to be caught watching you.

He felt your hands shaking his head, trying to wake him up. “Bubba, I’m here.” You slurred, hugging his body close to yours. Yoongi pretended to wake up and opened his eyes.

“What are you doing?” He asked, faking a sleepy tone on his voice and wrapping his arms around your torso. “Why are you naked?”

“I’m not… naked.” You chuckled “Not completely.”

Yoongi took a second to scan your face in the dark, which was smudged with dark gray eyeshadow and glitter. That night you seemed to have worn red lipstick, but now it was all faded, that happened when you drank (vodka, he could smell it).

“It’s cold.” He informed you, feeling your cold feet trying to find his own so he could warm them. “And it’s late.”

It was not usual for you to get drunk, so Yoongi had barely seen this phase of you in the last months. He quickly learned that you were a happy drunk, laughing at him when he told you it was too late to wake him up. It was funny, and Yoongi thought it was the end of it, but when you kissed him, trying to shut him up, he knew you were going to be awake for a bit longer before finally sleeping.

It turned out that you didn’t only smell like vodka, but you taste like it too, that and watermelon as well. If you hardly ever got drunk it was because you didn’t like most alcoholic drinks, of course you were going to get drunk with cocktails. But your kiss was slow and sweet, and he liked watermelon after all. You only pulled away to kiss his nose.

“Did you have a good time?” He asked, hoping that small talk will tire you, needless to say that he was about to fail.

“I was missing you the whole time.” You replied, taking him by surprise when you began to straddle his lap to get on top of him, leaning to kiss his lips again. “But yes, I did.”

“What about your friends?” He murmured against your lips, but you didn’t want to stop kissing him. “Was Nayeon the designated driver?”

“Mhm, yes. She had to take care of me.” You laughed, sneaking your hands under his shirt. “She was afraid I would throw up in her new car.”

Yoongi was sure you were staining him with the red lipstick that remained on your lips when you began to leave small kisses on his neck, but you seemed happy, so he supposed it was okay. “I would be afraid of that too.” He joked. “What about Yongsun?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe me.” You exclaimed, being a bit too loud “She danced with a guy and kissed him, he wanted to go home with her.”

“What?” He asked, running his hands down your thighs. “Did she say yes?”

“Mmm, no, girl’s night only. But can you imagine?”

Yoongi hummed, happy to hear you talk about your night but knowing that you were not in the mood for sleeping yet. “What about you?” He continued to ask “Did you dance with a lot of boys?”

You gasped at the assumption “Me? Of course not.” You denied, leaning forward to kiss him again. “However, I must confess, I’m a pretty girl, bubba, a lot of guys approached me.”

“Yeah?” He raised his eyebrows, not willing to picture the image in his head. You nodded “And what did you say to them?”

“I said that I was not interested because I have a boyfriend.” You said in a pout, encouraging him to kiss you again.

Even if he tried to be strong and send you to sleep, he was too tangled in your games to run away from your kisses, or from you anyway. “Mhm, such a good girl.” He hummed against your mouth.

Suddenly, you pulled away from him. “Don’t say that.” You whined. “I’m already horny and I know you won’t fuck me since I’m tipsy.”

A loud laugh escaped from Yoongi’s mouth, surprised at your confession. “Are you horny?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t.” He denied. “And you’re not tipsy, you’re drunk as hell.”

“Whatever.” You huffed. “I was thinking about it the whole ride home.”

“Is that why you’re naked?” He kept laughing.

“I’m not naked.” You insisted. “But yes…”

Over the past months you naturally made a lists of ‘do not fuck if’ without noticing. You were the one who started it, telling him that you weren’t going to have sex if you were already showered or if it was wednesday, which was the day you were most tired. You had made very clear that you weren’t going to fuck him if you were on his parent’s house or while having a shower in your apartment if Nayeon was around. Of course Yoongi was the one who tried to do it in all those situations like it was a bucket list for him, but he had only one condition that could not be broken: do not fuck if you’re drunk. This was never a problem until that night.

Yoongi noticed that you were letting too many words out of your mouth, words that you would be embarrassed to remember you said the next day, that’s when he knew that it was time to sleep, but first, he wanted to tease you just a little more, that was allowed.

He grabbed your hips and put you down next to him, pressing your body against his. “And what were you thinking?” He asked you, making you believe that he was about to break. You were too drunk to notice that he was just playing with you.

“I don’t know If I can say.” You whispered, grazing your fingers over his face.

“C’mon, baby, you can tell me.” He insisted, but he had an idea of what you were thinking. “You wanted to ride me?”

“Well, yes.” You sighed, looking at his lips, tempted to catch them between your teeth. “But I really don’t have the energy to do that now, so then I thought that you should do all the work.”

It was maybe the first time that Yoongi heard you talk about sex like it was a procedure. “All the work?” He laughed. “Should I just open your legs and do all the work?”

You seemed offended by that offering. You frowned, shaking your head. “No!” You protested, “You must be… romantic.”

Yoongi scoffed. “I’m always romantic.” He said, reaching for your lips, opening your mouth lazily to briefly introduce his tongue, getting your hopes high again. You gripped his shirt, but he pulled away before you could do something else. “Am I not? I bring you to my house, I fuck you in my bed, I let you sleep naked on it, I make you breakfast. I’m romantic.”

“But you aren’t being very romantic right now.” You murmured against his mouth. “And I’m not naked.”

“I’m not fucking you tonight, you’re very drunk and I can be romantic in other ways.” He finally said, but you weren’t willing to give up yet.

“I don’t want other ways.” You kept insisting “I’m literally begging you.”

“You always do that, though.” He said, too cheeky for his own good. You rushed to cover his mouth with your hands, as if there was someone else in the room hearing.

“You can’t say that out loud.” You cried, trying to prevent him from talking again, but he was quick, biting your pinky finger to get himself free. You protested, but he didn’t pay attention.

“You’re the one begging to be fucked.” Yoongi laughed, but the frown on your face wasn’t going away. “Meet me halfway here, I can kiss you until you fall asleep if you want.” He tried to negotiate.

“You can kiss me somewhere else.” You said, making him snort. “I’m conscious enough, and I missed you this whole month”

“No, you’re not. And you’re going to regret saying that when you wake up.”

“Yoongi!” You cried.

“Oh, is it ‘Yoongi’ now?” He asked, wrapping you around one of his arms and making you rest your head on his shoulder, getting you ready to sleep. “It’s only ‘bubba’ when you’re trying to fuck me?”

“It’s only ‘Yoongi’ when I’m mad at you.” You groaned.

“I don’t care, it’s past your bedtime.”

“I didn’t know I had a curfew.” You kept trying to fight him.

“Tonight you do.”

“That sounded hot.” Now you were beginning to test your boyfriend’s patience.

“Oh my god.” He sighed, running one of his hands over his face.

“I like when you talk with a deep voice and you get all serious.” You kept going with your rant, but he was not having it anymore.

“Fine, stop.” He rushed to say “You can tell me all about that tomorrow, I promise I’ll do anything you ask me, but now it’s time to sleep.”

You turned your head to the clock beside you and saw the hour you came back home, you had no idea it was that late. “You could say it’s early.”

“Baby…” He warned you, last warning. Your gaze was kind of blurry and you were not as conscious as you bragged to be. It was difficult to admit that you were about to give up.

“Okay, I’ll sleep.” You said, snuggling near his chest, “But is the kissing session offer still available?”

“No, I don’t trust you anymore.” Yoongi had already closed his eyes “But I can allow a reduced amount of kisses.”

Finally surrendering to his conditions, you stretched out a bit and kissed him three times before falling asleep.

After that night you made sure no one else saw you that drunk, it was like a part of you that you didn’t know. You would have preferred not to remember anything the next day you woke up, but you remembered every single thing that you said. Even if someone erased your memory, Yoongi would have been there to remind you of the whole conversation, he couldn’t stop teasing you for the whole month.

A friend surely was in charge to stop other people seeing you in that state before you start vomiting every word that crossed your mind, but that wouldn’t prevent him from keeping those moments to himself. You promised to control yourself the next morning, but you forgot about it weeks later when you shared way too many glasses of wine with Yoongi one night, luckily there was no one around, and this time you weren’t drunk on vodka like before, so Yoongi laid on the couch and poured you the last glass before deciding it was time to turn off the lights and go to sleep, if were for you, you would have spent the whole night there, talking with him without noticing the words were slipping out you mouth.

You could tell that his eyes were becoming smaller and that his voice sounded deeper, he was getting sleepier but you couldn’t stop talking.

“We should get in bed already.” He announced “Before you tell me all your secrets and regret it the next day.”

“I’m not that drunk, you’re just trying to get rid of me.” You snuggled next to him, shaking your head. “And I don’t think that will work, you already know all my secrets.”

“Do I?” He doubted.

“Mhm.”

“Like what?”

Maybe Yoongi didn’t notice, but you told him a million things that you never told anyone else.

“Like when I told you that I shoplifted that MAC store back home.” You reminded him, making him laugh. “I don’t tell that to anyone because people think I would steal their makeup.”

“But you were like seventeen.” He said.

“Well, but I don’t regret it.” You admitted.

“You just told me that because I don’t use any makeup.”

You huffed, thinking about it “Maybe I keep a secret or two from you.” You confessed. “But a girl needs to have secrets.”

“Like what?” He asked again.

“Don’t manipulate me into telling you my secrets.” You said, dragging your words. He chuckled, leaning to kiss your lips briefly.

“Tell me all your secrets.” He insisted, whispering against your lips. You swallowed, feeling like his piercing eyes were burning your skin.

“I can’t tell you all of them.” You tried to be firm.

“How many you’ve got?” He kept insisting.

“A few… I don’t know.” You answered, counting them in your head, but you were too tipsy to even try. Even if you could, you would forget half of them.

“Tell me five.” He said, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him. Taking advantage of your position and kissing you once again, hoping you would fall for him, he tried to melt you with slow kisses while caressing your bare thighs with his fingertips. Yoongi was fine with you having secrets, he just wanted to know what you had to say that night.

You sighed against his mouth, “That’s too much.”

“I’m fine with three.”

You guessed you could find three things you never told anyone, three things that you knew Yoongi would keep for you.

(It should be noted that Jungkook’s plan to get you back together was off limits, you were drunk, not dumb)

“I never liked Nayeon’s food.” You said “She thinks that I always cook because I enjoy it but the truth is that I don’t like it when she does. But it’s a secret, don’t ever tell her.”

You didn’t want to be rude, so you kept it a secret. You thought that Yoongi would be surprised for some reason, or maybe it was your drunk self thinking that what you were saying was very shocking, but Yoongi looked like he already knew.

“Is that your secret?” He complained “I already knew that, it’s not a secret for me.”

“How did you know?” You asked, wide-eyed.

“I can see it in your face.” He explained. “I don’t think she knows, but I sure do.”

“Don’t ever tell her, Yoongi.” You begged like he was threatening to do it. “I tried to help her, but she never gets better.”

“Don’t worry.” He assured you “Your secret is safe with me.”

You believed him, even if he didn’t consider it a secret you kept from him. You tried to think of something that he couldn’t know just by looking at your face, which was the most difficult thing when Yoongi could read every expression of you.

“Okay, I have one that I don’t think you’ll guess.”

“Fine, let’s see.”

“I don’t like when you use socks in bed.” You spat “It’s really uncomfortable and you end up taking them off in the middle of the night.”

Now Yoongi was surprised, he never thought you were so bothered about his socks.

“Are you serious?” He questioned, but you seemed really sure of your statement.

“I’m serious.” You confirmed. “You do it especially at my apartment, you never care to look for them after you take them off and they just stay in the sheets until I find them. Do you know how many of your pairs of socks I have in my closet?”

Your boyfriend frowned at the question. He always bragged about being an organized person, what do you mean he has been forgetting socks at your place? What do you mean he never noticed?

“You don’t like when I wear socks to sleep?” He checked again, only for you to confirm it once again by shaking your head. “That doesn’t sound like a secret, that just sounds like you have a problem with me wearing socks when we sleep.”

You rolled your eyes “I get that you have cold feet, but once you are under the covers they get warm, you should know that since you take them off in the middle of the night.”

“Are you asking me to stop wearing socks in bed?” He asked, pretending to be offended. Of course you were too drunk to notice that, and even if he was almost completely sober, he seemed to be infected with your drunkenness as he spent more time beside you. The conversation began to sound silly, but he couldn’t stop pushing the topic. Was it so wrong that he forgot his socks between your sheets?

“I’m not asking you anything.” You whined, throwing your head back against his shoulder. “I’m just telling you my second secret.”

Yoongi scrunched his nose. “Your secrets are not really secrets, baby.” He said, making you roll your eyes again.

“Whatever, that’s all you’re gonna get.”

“Mmm, no. You still have one left.” He reminded you.

You raised your chin, realizing he was right.

Even drunk you could remember that there was a cabinet of secrets that you couldn’t say out loud, not even to Yoongi, like Jungkook’s plan or the things that made you jealous, they were things that maybe you were not ready to tell him yet, not because of him but because you really believed you should keep a few things for yourself. As he booped your nose with the tip of his finger, you thought that you could share at least one of that kind.

“Fine, but don’t laugh at me.” You warned him.

He raised both hands, claiming to be innocent. “I would never.” He assured you.

You squint, but in the end you just said it. “I like babies, I want one someday.” You confessed “Maybe a boy, but I’m fine with anything. I want to raise them in a house with a backyard in a pool. I never had a pool and my backyard was scary as hell, the grass was as tall as me.”

That did sound like a secret to Yoongi, he never knew about that. He stayed there, feeling like the blood drained from his face, even if he wanted to make fun of you, those words were now stuck on his throat. Surprised that having a baby was an illusion of yours, he didn’t know how he never noticed. He saw you cooing at babies on the street and how you were always so good tutoring middle school kids back when you hadn't graduated yet, but the thought never crossed his mind, he never saw you that way.

“You want to be a mother?” He asked. It seemed like you generated a short circuit in his brain.

“Yes, that’s what it means to have a baby.” You said.

“But when?” He continued to ask, almost worried. You laughed at that, of course you didn’t mean now.

“Someday, I don’t know. When I get the house with the pool, maybe when I find someone that wants a baby too.” You teased him, observing how he stopped looking surprised and he began to look upset.

“What do you mean when you find someone?” He protested. “I’m right here!”

“Mmm, I’m not sure about that.” You said, turning around to face him. He grabbed your waist, pulling you closer, if that was possible. “Do you want a baby, bubba?”

“Yes.” He affirmed without hesitation. “I want a baby if it’s with you.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, intertwining your fingers in the back of his neck “You don’t just say that to a girl.”

You were right, people just don’t say that to girls, but you weren’t just a girl for him. Right there, wrapped around your fingers, he felt his heart hammering against his chest, he never had that kind of conversation with anyone else, he wondered if any of his past girlfriends ever thought about sharing more than the present with him. Yoongi didn’t want to keep living in the past, but he couldn’t help but think about how different it was with you, even if it was terrifying to think that someone could trust him with being… a dad, that sounded so weird. The idea of having a kid was maybe years away from that moment, he couldn’t even grasp it. Babies were the epitome of fear for him, but he smiled at the thought that you had been thinking about it, it warmed his heart to think that you included him in the picture.

Yoongi couldn’t even think about the future without feeling dizzy, he was happy being your boyfriend, but it was like you pinched him and woke him up with that secret, was that what he wanted all this time? Maybe.

Being fair, he thought he should confess something as well.

“You aren’t just any girl to me.” He said “You’re the girl I love, the love of my life.”

Suddenly, you felt your heart dropping to your stomach “Am I?” You managed to ask.

Being in love was a curse, being in love with Yoongi was even worse. After eight months of dating him you still melted like butter when he opened his mouth and dropped the sweetest sentence he could ever say.

“Of course, I fought a lot with myself to figure that out, so I won’t back down now.” He murmured.

“I’m glad that you won, then.” You chuckled, leaving a peck on his lips.

He grabbed your face to keep you close to him and looked you straight in the eye, not willing to let it go yet. “Baby, please.” He asked, low enough so only you could hear him “Don’t have a baby with anyone else.”

You bit back a smile, trying to be serious. “I can promise that if you promise not to tell anyone my secrets.”

Yoongi nodded repeatedly, “I can promise that.”

Good thing that a friend knew how to keep secrets.

Now the bottle of wine was empty and your head began to spin more than before, it was about time that you vomited your last words of the night.

“And by the way,” You said, catching his attention with your sleepy voice “I feel like you’re the love of my life too.”

What would Yoongi of the past think of the Yoongi that was seated next to you now? He wouldn’t believe he was now hanging by a thread, hoping that your next words wouldn’t be your last and being so in love that his heart was about to give up. That's how it felt to listen to you, drunk and tired, confessing once again your love for him.

“How is it that you feel it?” He asked, curious enough to let his mind speak for him.

“Do you think it’s too early to tell?” You wondered out loud. “I never loved anyone like you, I don’t think this would ever happen to me again. I just feel it on my chest.”

That made sense, Yoongi felt it on his chest too. He didn’t want the feeling to wear off as one month faded into another, but it stayed, he guessed you were the reason. There wasn’t a trace of doubt in your eyes, he could only hope you saw the same thing in him.

Home

Fridays were always the same since you started at your new teaching job at a high school near Yoongi’s apartment, you woke up in your bed, took the subway, tried to finish your hours peacefully and visited Yoongi to have dinner with him.

This time was different, you took the subway back home and tried not to look at your phone.

You reminded yourself that fights in relationships were normal, but you didn’t expect Yoongi to still be mad after three days. After the big fight you had that night that made you think you wouldn’t see him again, you decided to communicate better, to talk things before exploding, so you didn’t have big fights since then, maybe silly ones about house rules or tiny discussions that were long forgotten within an hour, but never three days.

If you ever thought that Yoongi could not be any more stubborn, you were wrong.

It started on wednesday, when you came to visit like every other day, but he seemed to be drowning in his thoughts, dragging his feet and zoning out every five minutes without realizing. It was not about work, that much you knew, there was something else in his mind, but he didn’t say a word about it.

When you began washing the dishes, he stood by your side, quiet as ever, letting you do all the talking about your day and hardly answering your questions. You were almost sure you had nothing to do with his mood, if something was bothering him he was the first one to bring it up, but this was not the case. He usually saved these moments to tell you something about his week as he waited for you to finish, he struggled to get the words out, but at the end he just said it.

It turned out that Yoongi had some trouble with some deal he closed a few weeks ago, he had been offered to make an appearance at a rap show that was being held a month from now, someone had stepped down last minute and he was offered the spot. He would love to do it, the only reason he wasn’t part of the initial line up was because he had a break planned for this time of the year.

Yoongi had said yes, signed the contract, closed the deal, and the next week found out by Hoseok that none other than Park Jimin was hosting the event. Once again, Yoongi felt like a coward, wanting to call it quits and forget about the whole thing. All of his friends who were going to be part of the show laughed at him for not being aware that his ex best friend was hosting and was also one of the headliners, but these weeks Yoongi had been too caught up with normal life to know who was performing at a show he wasn’t going to be part of to begin with, and yes, maybe he was going to go since he was probably going to get free tickets from his friends who were performing, like Namjoon or Hoseok.

He felt like someone slapped him on the face when he realized he was an adult and couldn’t run away just because Jimin was part of the event.

You knew Jimin and Yoongi's history too well, they met each other as soon as Yoongi arrived to Seoul when he was seventeen, he was still renting recording studios per hour, selling his tracks for cheap prices to pay the rent of the dorm that shared with Seokjin and working full time delivering pizza. Jimin was an aspiring dancer and singer, it was like underdogs seemed to find each other in the streets of Seoul, when Jimin met Yoongi no one could separate him from his older friend.

Ten years of friendship didn’t disappear just like that, Yoongi began to distance himself from everybody as soon as Dasom, his ex girlfriend, started to have problems and her addiction became worse, mostly from Jimin.

Maybe Jimin had a list of reasons that made him want stop seeing Yoongi for good, reasons that chased Yoongi in his sleep every october when he knew Jimin’s birthday was approaching, but he knew that Jimin’s last straw was when Dasom was too drunk at a gathering full of his friends and began to make Jimin uncomfortable when she began to crack jokes about cancer. Dasom was always known for his “dark humor” and not being politically correct, but no one expected her to make those jokes when one of Jimin’s closest friends had passed away of that same disease not even a year ago. Jimin stormed out of the room, having Yoongi follow him to try and talk to him. Back then Yoongi thought Dasom was too overtaken by his addiction to even understand what she was saying, but Jimin knew she never liked the relationship he had with Yoongi, she was jealous she didn’t take all the attention from him, the same happened with his brother and family. Yoongi didn’t want to see it, he wasn’t trying to defend her but he asked him not to pay her attention. Jimin couldn’t do that, he was heartbroken, not hurt by Dasom but hurt by his friend’s words, he wished Yoongi would have stood up for him, said something since his words got stuck in his throat as he expected someone to say anything because he couldn’t utter a word. Yoongi regretted it every night, he will always remember how Jimin said that Dasom had always been horrible as a person, she always made those kinds of jokes and Yoongi just tried to ignore them because he loved her, this wasn’t nothing new of her. That was the last time they talked, even if Yoongi tried to call him, Jimin was determined not to see him ever again, too hurt to even think of talking to him again.

Still so stubborn, that wednesday night, after he vomited all his thoughts, he hoped for you to say that he should go to the show, and that he shouldn’t be uncomfortable around Jimin, he hoped to hear you saying that even if it was bad that he defended Dasom in that situation, Jimin should’ve understood that Yoongi was in a shitty place and couldn’t be in the middle of the two of them. Imagine how upset he was when you told him that you understood his position back then, but maybe he should consider calling Jimin before overthinking the whole situation and figure things out with him, he should at least try, maybe something good could come out of it.

Yoongi was not happy with that answer, he just wanted to hear you say something that just magically would make him feel okay, he was terrified of facing Jimin after so many years. The outcome was different, he went asleep upset and stopped texting after you left for work the next day.

You weren’t mad at him, he needed time to think, you knew that he just wanted someone to endorse his stubborn behavior of running away from his problems.

That night you ate alone, Nayeon was suspiciously out (not to party) for the fourth friday this month, so you were on your own. There were no texts from anybody on your phone, no missed calls, no instagram messages of cat videos, no invitations to a party, not even a mail from the school. Being a substitute teacher wasn’t so hard for now, you had taken the job of a teacher who had a maternity leave, but you supposed she was a workaholic since she sent you the full schedule for the rest of the school year, so that left you with almost no work for the weekend expect for the papers you had to grade.

Embracing your loneliness, you took out a pot of ice cream and put on a movie for the rest of the night.

You thought that a night without you wouldn’t kill Yoongi, but as your eyes started to close and the movie was coming to an end, the sound of your vibrating phone startled you from your sleep. It was past midnight when Yoongi called you.

“Hello?” You answered, your sleepy voice reaching the other line.

“Were you sleeping?” He asked, without even saying hi.

“No, I’m in a club and came to the bathroom to answer.” You teased him, you could almost see how he rolled his eyes.

“Ha-ha, so funny.” He said. “What were you doing?” His voice was soft, being careful knowing you hadn’t spoken since you left his house.

“Just watching a movie, about to sleep, actually.”

There was a few seconds of silence on his line, but then, he made the question he was planning to ask when he called. “Why didn't you come home today?”

“I have a home of my own, actually.” You said, not breaking character.

“You know what I mean.” He insisted.

“I just didn’t think you wanted me there today.” You were just saying that to talk about the topic, sometimes Yoongi believed he could get away from trouble without facing it first.

“Don’t be silly, I always want you here.”

You rolled in bed, looking at the window to check if it was raining yet, but it wasn’t, though the sky looked like it was about to.

“I don’t know about that.” You said in a high pitch. “I was getting another message when you stopped texting yesterday.”

Yoongi was still not ready to admit he got mad at you.

“I guess we’re from different generations, I’m not on my phone all the time like you.” He tried to defend himself.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You huffed. “We’re not from different generations when you ask for nudes in the middle of the night, aren’t we?”

You heard Yoongi almost choking, struggling to find words to fight you back on the other line.

“Fine.” He said, giving up “You’re right, I’m sorry for not texting. And I’m sorry for getting mad at you, I wasn’t ready to hear what you said, I just needed some time alone.”

You sighed, hearing how the rain began to hit against your window.

“It’s okay, I understand.” You told him “You can take your time, just don’t lock yourself alone in your room forever.”

Yoongi smiled as he laid on his bed, wishing you were there with him. “Can’t promise that.” He joked, making you laugh.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, the sound of the rain filling the room as you waited for the other one to say something else.

“What were you doing awake this late, grandpa?” You murmured, wrapping yourself in the blankets once again.

“I wanted to talk to you, to say sorry, tell you something.” He answered, making you curious.

“What you wanted to tell me?”

“I’ve been thinking about what you said, about calling Jimin.” He said “I don’t know, I was not ready to consider that, not ready to get rejected by him.”

“Things can always be different.” You encouraged him.

“Well, yes. I know, but my mind works in strange ways.” He laughed, you sensed a bit of wavering in his voice “I made a decision today and I called him, just got off the phone with him.”

You gasped, startling him from the other side of the phone. “Really?” You almost yelled, the excitement leaking from your voice. “What did you say? What did he say?”

“Not as much as I would want to, I told Namjoon to get me his number and he did, I spent the whole day thinking of what should I say, imagining what he would tell me” He replied “He picked up, didn’t sound angry or mad, just surprised… I told him I regretted taking so long, he told me it was okay, we talked for about an hour without thinking about our fight, I actually talked him about you.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, I told him you were the one who pushed me to call him, and then decided to meet to… talk properly.” It took almost three years for Yoongi to make that call, and Jimin only seemed to be struck by nostalgia when he heard Yoongi’s voice, he hadn’t stopped thinking about his friend either. It was weird, it wasn’t like he wasn’t angry anymore, but both regretted how things ended. Yoongi didn’t know that, for some reason, he thought that for Jimin it was easier to forget about him.

“Oh, baby, I’m so happy for you.” You said in a high pitched voice. “Everything will work out fine, I know it because you deserve it.”

“I hope it works out too.” He murmured under his breath. “I just wanted to thank you, I guess you were right. You are always right, it’s annoying.”

“You should get used to it already.”

“Yeah, I suppose I should.” He said, you could almost hear him smile. “I’m still upset that you didn’t come home, we could still be mad at each other while cuddling.”

“Mmm, I don’t know about that.” You laughed just by thinking of that situation “I’m having a pretty good time in my bed without your big feet taking up all the space.”

“That’s rude.” He sounded offended. “I’m sure you like my big feet.”

“Oh my god, gross, shut up.” You said, scrunching your nose.

“Whatever, I’m just saying… You should drop by.”

“Now?” You asked, “It already started to rain.”

“I’ll send an uber.” He offered.

“How romantic, I thought you were going to come pick me up.” You kept teasing him.

“The car is in the garage and I’m on my bed already, romanticism can wait until you get here.” He tried to convince you without much success.

“I don’t see why you should stay comfortable on your bed and I should go to you.”

“Because you love me, I don’t know.” He chuckled “C’mon, baby, I just want to sleep with you tonight, in my bed.”

He didn’t need to beg too much before you folded, it didn’t take much to convince you when he said he was going to pay the uber, so you put on a hoodie and your flip flops and waited for the uber at your doorstep.

“Were you just booty calling me?” You managed to get out, shifting in your place as you laid under him, grabbing his shoulders to gain some balance.

This was supposed to be a cold rainy night, you were supposed to get in Yoongi’s bed and cuddle before falling asleep. That was the usual routine of fridays, you visited him after work and took a nap before dinner was ready, you left parties and meetings with your friends for the weekends, friday nights were to rest. You began to believe that you spent too much time next to Yoongi the way you refused to leave the house after ten pm, especially during winter.

You knew him too well not to notice how the situation was getting sidetracked the more time you spent together in that bed. He hugged you and showered you with kisses as he apologized for not texting or calling once again, asking you about your day and talking about Jimin a little bit more before his kisses began to trail down your neck and his warm hands sneaked under your big shirt, pulling you closer to catch your lips between his teeth.

“Don’t say that.” He groaned, thrusting languidly inside you as his fingers dug into the skin of your hips, setting a slow pace “I just missed you.”

Shutting you up with a kiss, you knew it was one of those nights for Yoongi. You didn’t know if you finally managed to break him at times, but there were nights like these when he couldn’t help but show how maniacally in love he was. He got rid of your clothes and took all the time in the world just for you, burying his head in your neck, being patient and careful, sucking love bites on your chest, showering you in praises and sweet words, fucking you deep and slow as he tried to prolong the feeling of your walls dragging up and down his cock for as long as possible.

He loved to tease and play with you, but he discovered he also loved giving you what you wanted just how you wanted, hearing you purr in his ear and sigh in relief as he sank himself inside your pussy, running his hands all over you body and fucking you lazily enough for you not to know when your orgasm was about to hit.

Arching your back, you pressed your body against him to meet his hips with urgency. He had been drilling in and out of you for a hot minute now, you began to feel your body becoming hotter, or maybe it was just his body, burning on top of you as he rolled his hips against you, responding to your body in an attempt to drive you insane.

“My sweet girl.” He murmured, brushing his lips against your own “Made just for me, always fitting me so well.”

He stole a kiss from your swollen lips, opening your mouth to slip his tongue inside, sucking on your tongue until you forgot how to kiss him properly and moaning on his mouth.

You felt yourself getting tighter around him, you supposed that by now you were well adjusted to his body but every time you seemed to be wrong. You felt his skin brushing over your clit and his body getting heavier on top of you, your orgasm began to build so slowly that you almost didn’t notice it, “I think I’m close.” You cried, digging your fingers into his shoulders.

He nodded, kissing your forehead “I know, baby. I’m close too.” He breathed out, his hand reaching for one of your hands to intertwine your fingers with him. “Where do you want it?” He asked.

“Just… inside me, please.” You pleaded, too intoxicated to think of anything else. He already knew your answer, but your words made his cock throb inside you anyway, making you shut your eyes closed, overwhelmed as he pounded inside you, picking up a faster pace.

It didn’t go unnoticed to Yoongi how in love he felt that night, he was sure that your whines and the little sounds you made were going to chase him in his sleep for a whole week, echoing through his mind, making him wake up in the middle of the night feeling like his skins was on fire. His mind didn’t make fully sense that you were his, so he had to repeat it out loud to you all the time. “Mmm, do you want me to fill you up?” His voice sounded raspy, meaning that he was in the same position as you, he could barely handle the way you were clenching around him.

You nodded repeatedly, not willing to open your mouth in case your voice failed you, but Yongi got drunk with the expression on your face, your mouth hanging open as you moaned, your hooded eyes fighting to see him clearly and your swollen lips just begging to be bit. You squeezed his hand, letting him know you were just a second to come undone, “Baby I’m- Shit, shit, shit.” Your words were cut by the feeling of shock waves of pleasure washing all over your body, sobbing his name as he helped you ride your climax, pounding in and out of your cunt as your whole body shivered.

“You did so well, baby.” He hissed, thrusting for the last time, urging to reach his own climax “Such a good girl.”

Just the sound of you sobbing his name was enough for him to finally snap, spilling himself inside you as he groaned your name, pounding inside you for the last time before he carefully removed himself from you, crumbling on top of you.

Yoongi looked at you, with eyes full of love, about to fall asleep. “You’re so cute.” He murmured, leaving a small kiss on your shoulder “And this wasn’t a booty call.” He cared to clarify once again. You ran your fingers through his hair, laughing. “Sometimes things turn out like this.”

“Yeah, I know, I was just teasing you.” You guaranteed him, kissing the tip of his nose.

“This is not fair, anyway.” He complained “If I want to see you in the middle of the night you have to take an uber to see me, it’s not fair.”

“I live only twenty minutes away, Yoongi.” You reminded him, but he didn’t like that answer, he rolled his eyes.

“I want you to live zero seconds away.” You heard him mumble against your neck “I don’t like this anymore.”

“What is that you don’t like?” You inquired, pulling away to see him properly.

“That you spend more time with Nayeon than with me.” He explained, making you giggle.

“Well, but someone has to pay the other half of the rent.” You said.

He huffed, grazing your fingers over your face “Mmm, I don’t care about that. I just don’t like you being away for so long.”

“For so long?” You repeated, laughing at him “Three days is that long?”

Of course it was, you knew it.

“Three days is eternity, baby.” He groaned, closing his eyes shut “I want to come home to you, don’t you?”

You tried to ignore your heart hammering against your ribcage, “I miss you all the time when you’re not with me,” You confessed, a smirk tugged from the corner of his lips, he looked at you for a second and then scoffed.

“You’re so cheesy.” He blurted out. You wasted no time in punching his arm, making him groan.

“And you’re so mean.” You complained “Don’t you miss me all the time as well?”

As much as Yoongi liked to tease you, you were right. “Yes, I do, I miss you all the time.” He admitted “I miss you right now knowing you will leave me tomorrow.”

“At least I can promise that I’ll text you.” You kept teasing him, but he was very persistent about his argument, he didn’t want to hear any of that.

“No, I don’t want you texting me.” He murmured, pulling you by your waist to press you to his bare torso. “Move in with me, baby.”

Yoongi watched your eyes widen in surprise, not knowing if he was serious.

“You want me to live with you here?” You asked, just in case.

“Yeah, this is basically your home too.”

“But what if you get sick of me?” You tried to argue, half joking, half being honest “What if you don’t like how I make the bed and how I fold my clothes?”

Yoongi squinted his eyes, wondering if that was a real concern of yours “I think we can figure that out along the way.”

You didn’t miss the feeling on your stomach when you thought about living here with him. You had been sharing lives for quite some time now, when he wasn’t at your apartment you were here, when you weren’t sleeping on his bed, he was sleeping in yours, but the routine of everyday was different, Nayeon was always around and you couldn’t act like the apartment was all yours. On the other hand, you could wander around freely at Yoongi’s apartment, you could wake up in your underwear and walk around the house as you prepared breakfast without problem, could dance in the kitchen without fearing that someone would catch you and hang out in the living room for as long as you wanted. But apart from that, waking up next to Yoongi every morning sounded really nice, he felt more like home than anybody else.

“Okay, deal.” You said “But I think I will miss sleeping with you in my bed.”

Yoongi snorts, mocking you. “Yeah, sure. Good thing I won’t.”

It was sad for you to see your bed go when someone who wanted to buy it on Facebook Marketplace came to pick it up by the end of the month, but it only meant a new start. You didn’t have many things, most of the furniture in the apartment belonged to Nayeon, including the couch where you had sex with Yoongi multiple times, poor her, she didn’t need to know how many times it happened.

But anyway, after that, there were many things to be excited about, at first it was your promotion as a titular teacher, there was family and friends and Holly, there was shared bottles of wine and summer nights, music and books, movies and food, there was holding hands during long walks in winter and calling in sick when it’s raining, and at the end of the day, there was always him.

Yoongi had wandered the world feeling like he was different for so many years, he resented the people that passed by on the street, thinking they had any kind of blame that he couldn’t stand living in his own skin, with a frown on his face, a hot black coffee without sugar on his hand and a bad attitude on the mornings, he believed himself to be disconnected from this world. Yoongi didn’t like his birthday, hated taking the bus, hated taxis, hated rainy and sunny days, hated flowers, they were for the death. He waited all year to get on stage and forget about all the people that he had hurt and all the people that hurt him, almost feeling like his life was slipping through his fingers. It was embarrassing to even admit that that only changed when he fell in love with you.

Love? He didn’t know a proper definition for that word, he just know he liked his birthday if you were going to be there, took the bus or a taxi if you were going to make him company, he liked rainy days if he was going to be cuddled in his bed with you, and sunny days didn’t seem so bad if you were beside him when he took Holly for a walk. He even started to like flowers when you bought a tulip for him on the first day of spring.

He wasn’t so different from everybody else, but maybe you were the different one, putting a smile on every situation and being optimistic, adoring your job, loving sugar, laughing at everyone’s jokes, even if they were bad. You had an efficiency to escape from the bureaucracy of school, work, society, life, how come he hadn't met you before?

He spent months trying to run away from you only to find out that he encountered you in every corner of his mind, in every corner of his bed, in every corner of his life. He was a fool if he thought he was the one keeping you, you were the one who decided to keep him.

Well, as you went on kissing him goodbye every morning, sharing baths with him after a long day, buying him tulips on spring days, Yoongi thought that as long as you were there, he should be okay.

taglist: @rvelvett @kimseokjinbangtan @minmin2022 @minvlush @bids97 @cowboylikevicky @jiimtaee @jjkmspace @localmoonchild @youre-on-your-ownkid @tarahardcore @kookstempo @yoongimentita7 @jwlmnbt @almosttoopizza @floriiansgrave @damn-u-min-yoongi @starbtslove @pelicanpizza @deliciouslydisturbed365 @g0lden-sunset @side-effectss @iwishselena @rosquilleta @funsizemarsbar92 @cosmiclatte-world @miss-jupiter @linosluna @staradorned @bxcndd

[spearsndragons]

spearsndragons ao3 master list

Elia dies and awakes on the day of her wedding. Armed with the memories of her previous life, she is determined not to let them come to pass. She will make the Seven Kingdoms regret they ever underestimated her.

In another part of the Red Keep, the Gods of Old Valyria send Rhaegar back in time to fix his wrongs and ensure the survival of House Targaryen. Rhaegar knows his madness and hubris led to the destruction of everything he loves and cares for. Never again.

— Hourglass

Five years into King Rhaegar I's reign, the realm prospers under his progressive leadership. However, the same cannot be said for the king's family. Behind the walls of the Red Keep, Rhaegar grapples with his inner demons, and House Targaryen continues to be haunted by the war's tragic end.

Water magic resurfaces across the sea in the Golden Empire of Yi Ti for the first time in centuries with the arrival of the Emperor's new wife. She works to uncover the forgotten history of the world, only to realize that her own past refuses to be buried.

— Sunset Embers

Everyone believes that Crown Princess Elia and her two young babes perished in the Mad King’s wildfire plot.

Fifteen years after the war, yet another mystery knight changes the course of history.

— Clean series

tumblr extras:

(hourglass) the women and men of hourglass

(clean au) Rhaegar’s Children

(clean au) Visenya’s support system

(clean au) the king & the matriach

you’re losing me rhaelia drabble

rhaelia + richard siken

[gingermintpepper]

SO BASICALLY,

The general concept is that Hyacinthus, the (secret) sixth prince of Laconia is sent to Olympia to help out after the catastrophic earthquake that's completely paralysed the town. He gets there, he's given his land and he finds this cool statue of his Very Handsome Man on his land and would you look at that, the Very Handsome Statue is talking to him and introduced himself as Apollo, how nice-!

In short, it's something of a domestic mystery - much like in Fields of Mistria itself, the earthquake has awakened old magic in Olympia once more due to interfering with the seals far below the earth. Hyacinthus, motivated to help Apollo get his lost memories back and for the good of the town, traverses down the mines so he can break the seals and, in the process, maybe un-statue the really hot guy that's sharing this farmland with him.

Below the cut I'll put the list of the characters I assigned to the townspeople if you're interested <33

Farmer → Hyacinthus

Sent by the Adventurer’s Guild to help repair Olympia. Is the only one that can hear the voice of the Radiant from the statue on his farm. Sixth prince of Laconia, still in contact with his family, wanted to help his people after the disaster. 

Caldarus → Apollo

A God of old Olympia, used to be widely worshipped but is now sealed away deep under the earth. Has lost most of his memories along with much of his power but has recently reawakened due to a disaster which disrupted his seals. Can only communicate to Hyacinthus through the statue on his farm.  

Balor → Hermes

A prolific merchant who excels at delivering quality goods in unorthodox places. Took a special interest in Olympia after the disaster and remained the town’s sole contact to the outside world in the wake of their bridge collapsing. Always smiling and extremely mysterious - he has suspiciously low prices despite the danger of his work. 

Nora → Demeter

Head of Olympia’s Chamber of Commerce and co-owner of the General Store in town. Works closely with both Hermes and Hektor to keep the town running smoothly as well as coordinate the restoration of Olympia after the disaster. 

Holt → Triptolemus 

Co-owner of the General Store and Demeter’s life partner. Extremely reliable but a bit lost without Demeter’s instructions, he’s extremely skilled at cultivating crops and is responsible for stocking the general store with seasonal seeds and saplings. Strictly vegetarian.

Celine → Persephone

Demeter’s daughter and an avid lover of flowers. Constantly busy with the beautification of Olympia when she’s not researching the rare and mythical flora of Olympia’s past. She handles stocking the general store with seasonal flower seeds and furniture. Is in a secret relationship with Hades, one of the merchants from out of town.

Dell → Pelops

Demeter’s ward and a greatly troubled child. Rambunctious with a very vivid imagination, he has big dreams of returning to the capital and taking his rightful place as a Duke. Due to the remote nature of Olympia, it is the perfect place for him to be hidden away from his father’s madness and, luckily, no one in Olympia takes his tales seriously. Demeter worries about him endlessly.

Eiland → Cassandra

The younger child of the Baron and Baroness of Olympia, she is greatly concerned with the history and architecture of Olympia. Extremely perceptive and always on the lookout for more hints about Olympia’s buried past. Founded the History Society so she could more effectively research her current obsession, the scattered steles of a long dead god.

Adeline → Hektor

The elder child of the Baron and Baroness of Olympia, after the disaster struck he dedicated himself to restoring Olympia at all costs. He truly believes in the people and potential of this town and though he has never been particularly superstitious, he has found himself more inclined to pray and pay attention to natural omens since starting this project. He personally dedicates himself to working alongside Hyacinthus for the sake of restoring Olympia to its former glory. 

Elsie → Paris

Older relative of the Baron and a Count, he agreed to look after Hektor and Cassandra in Olympia while their parents were away. Seems to prefer Olympia’s quieter countryside but always has a story or two to tell about his exploits in the Capital. Seems especially fond of a particular man and woman he left behind in favour of coming to live with the Baron and his family.

Juniper → Penthesilea

A foreign woman who has not entirely settled into Olympia. Runs the bathhouse and gym and spends a lot of time on the Eastern Road. Is especially interested in the seals and inscriptions scattered around Olympia but staunchly refuses to join the History Society. Apparently, she is not very fond of Orpheus. 

Valen → Orpheus

The extremely skilled but extremely reserved town doctor. He has a clinic in the town centre and mostly keeps to himself, though he is especially fond of flowers and trees. Doesn’t speak much and instead prefers to write his thoughts down or communicate with sign language. Wears a wedding ring but notably, lives alone.  

Olric → Zephyrus

The older of the blacksmithing duo, a gentle man with a big heart. Part of the History Society and very enthusiastic about life, he was part of a skilled band of adventurers called the ‘Anemoi’ before eventually retiring and moving to Olympia. Spends a lot of his time on high hills and summits and can speak the language of flowers. Is good friends with Persephone.

March → Dionysus

The younger of the blacksmithing duo and undoubtedly the more skilled craftsman of the two, has been working extremely hard to help put the town to rights after the disaster and is a bit on edge because of it. Super welcoming and friendly but also somewhat unsettling due to his intensity, doesn’t actually care much about smithing and would much rather spend his days making wine casks and custom drinking cups.

Hemlock → Asclepius

Co-owner of the Sleeping Eclipse Inn and the town doctor before Orpheus moved in. He’s an anchor of the town and the inn is Olympia’s beating heart. Extremely well-read and a skilled luthier he helps wherever he can. Due to some difficulties with his health after the disaster, his family has been forcing him to take it easy. Cries every time he hears Orpheus sing.

Josephine → Epione

Co-owner of the Sleeping Eclipse Inn and the town veterinarian. She’s a powerful woman, the second tallest person in Olympia and very intimidating on first glance because of it. Despite this, she is extremely gentle-natured and always has a smile for those who enter her doors, works closely with Aristaeus to ensure the town’s internal supply of animal produce isn’t threatened, especially after the massive losses taken after the disaster. Was a ranger before she met Asclepius and still has her horse, Miel.

Reina → Iaso

Eldest child of Asclepius and Epione, was educated in the Capital but came home in a huff due to a major blowout with her boss at the hospital she worked at. Currently studying the healing power of food and cooking and works as the Sleeping Eclipse’s chef while she does her research. Is extremely concerned about her father’s health but refuses to let it show.  

Luc → Machaon

Middle child of Asclepius and Epione, he is determined to become a surgeon and surpass his father’s legend. Very smart young lad and one of the few people in town who completely believes Pelops’ stories, he loves small animals like insects and birds and often tries to nurse any small injured creature he can find back to health. Is fascinated by Pelops’ shoulder prosthetic and hopes to one day be able to make such a difference for someone else.

Maple → Hygeia

Youngest child of Asclepius and Epione, is a  twin but her sister died shortly after being born. Despite never knowing her sister, Hygeia struggles with a deep sense of loneliness and grief that has only recently started to ease with the help of the townspeople. Adores Orpheus and often spends the day shadowing him in the hopes of hearing him sing or play his lute. She is the only one Orpheus talks to about his dead wife.

Ryis → Thamyris

A carpenter who studied music in the Capital, came to Olympia shortly before the disaster at his friend’s request and was trapped after the bridge collapsed. Has a bit of a poor attitude due to once having big dreams of becoming a famous bard but is now too attached to Olympia to leave, no matter how much he grumbles about its backwater nature. Is convinced there’s something singing in the mines but is completely useless with a sword. 

Landen → Hippolytus

Owner of the Red-tailed Stag House of Carpentry (or the Stag House for short) and a very good friend of Thamyris. He gave up on urban life a long time ago and is dedicated to living in oneness and harmony with nature. Strictly vegetarian and kind of a stickler for his views being respected, he’s been on edge since the disaster since there’s been a massive change in the lands of Olympia. Most of the townspeople don’t take him seriously, but Penthesilea seems to think of him as a kindred spirit. He doesn’t work on the 6th or 16th of every month.  

Errol → Eros

Museum Curator, ex-adventurer and all around incredibly offputting guy, despite his open nature and pretty face, Eros seems to know everything about everything yet is unwilling to share that information with the rest of the town. His only delight seems to be the History Society and he is extremely pleased that Hyacinthus has decided to collect old artefacts and explore the mines. Apart from Cassandra, Eros is the only one that acknowledges the statue on Hyacinthus’ farm and occasionally passes by just to stare at it.  

Hayden → Aristaeus

Owner of Sweetwind Farm and the only other farmer in Olympia, Aristaeus has deep roots in this town and his family has lived and farmed here for generations. Skilled with animals and is extremely handy with preserving food, pressing olives into oil and keeping bees, he has almost single-handedly kept the town fed during the worst of the shortages brought on by the disaster despite the losses to his animals. Has a deep aversion to dogs and wishing stars. Seems to know a few things about Olympia’s history that no one else does but isn’t exactly eager to talk about it.

Terithia → Medea

A beautiful woman who lives alone on the beach. Has lived a long and eventful life and refers to Olympia as her ‘jail-cell’, her ‘gilded cage’ and her ‘death-house’ based on her mood. Much like Eros, she seems to know many things but is not inclined to let anyone else know, but unlike Eros, she very openly spins exciting tales of her youth when she was a court sorceress and princess. Though she doesn’t do much magic these days, she still has the knowledge and is always willing to decode some arcane knowledge for a price. 

Obviously there are a lot of liberties taken for the sake of the AU but that's the broad strokes of it. Thanks for asking about it @gotstabbedbyapen !!

[watchinghallmark]

Family History Mysteries: Buried Past (2023)

[hallmark-movie-fanatics]

[vir-tanadahl]

As the Moon Rises

Chapter 5: The Colors of the Veil

I’m eagerly rewriting As the Moon Rises, which was originally written back in 2017, in anticipation of Dragon Age: Veilguard, channeling my excitement into refining the story. Summary: Isera Lavellan, at her mother’s behest, is sent to assist her twin brother, Banreas—the Inquisitor—in his mission to stop a force determined to bring about the world’s end. Together, they uncover long-buried secrets of their shared family history while Isera finds herself drawn to a mysterious non-Dalish elven mage whose knowledge of her heritage runs far deeper than she could have imagined. As the stakes rise, Isera must navigate this dangerous journey of discovery, where the past holds as much peril as the looming threats of the present. Solas x F!Lavellan.

[Ch1] [Ch2] [Ch3] [Ch4] [Ch5]

Skyhold was bustling in the weeks following their success at Adamant, the morale among the Inquisition at an all-time high. Yet, Isera remained mostly in her tower, harboring feelings of bitterness and anger. While she diligently assisted those who came to the healing center, she rarely ventured out unless absolutely needed. The lively celebrations felt distant to her, overshadowed by her internal struggles as she grappled with the complexities of her newfound abilities and her place within the group.

Banreas was too busy to visit her, consumed by the fallout of conscripting the Wardens. Nobles from both Ferelden and Orlais protested the decision, their fears of Corypheus's influence on the Grey Wardens echoing throughout the halls of Skyhold. Yet, Banreas remained steadfast in his choice, resolute in his belief that they needed the strength and experience of the Wardens to face the looming threats. Isera could sense his determination, even from a distance, but it did little to ease the bitterness that churned within her.

He shared that his decision was rooted in history—the Fifth Blight had begun in Ferelden, a country that had banned the Grey Wardens years prior and only allowed their return months before the Blight truly struck. Banreas emphasized the importance of learning from past mistakes, arguing that their unity was essential in the face of impending danger. Despite the protests from nobles, he was determined to ensure that the Wardens had a place in their fight against Corypheus, believing that their experience could make all the difference.

He had argued that, for the sake of safety regarding future Blights, banning the Wardens from Orlais could lead to long-term consequences once this fight was over. At least, that was what she overheard from the soldiers during their stops at the clinic. Whispers of his reasoning circulated among the ranks, and while some agreed with his perspective, others remained skeptical, the tension palpable as they discussed the implications of such a decision.

There was always dissent to be had, however. Additionally, rumors circulated that the Inquisition would be invited to the Winter Palace. This was a critical moment to demonstrate that the Inquisition held not only power in numbers but also significant influence. As whispers of their upcoming presence at the palace spread, Isera could sense the gravity of the situation, knowing that this opportunity could shape their future in the political landscape of Thedas.

Isera was surprised when Solas entered the clinic, his presence a soft disturbance in the otherwise quiet space. She lay on the second level, still in bed, listening as he moved around below her. The sound of glasses clinking together filled the air as he picked them up and set them down, a rhythmic melody that echoed softly against the walls. She couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing, a mix of curiosity and intrigue sparking within her as she listened.

He called up to her, but when he received no response, he slowly made his way up the stairs. Each creak of the steps resonated in the quiet space, causing Isera’s body to stiffen with anxiety. The sound seemed to amplify her unease, heightening her awareness of his approach as she braced herself for their impending conversation.

Isera pulled the blankets over her head, hoping to successfully hide the disheveled mess of her bed and make it seem as if she wasn’t there at all. She knew she should feel embarrassed or ashamed; it was well into the afternoon. Yet, an unsettling emptiness enveloped her instead. She didn’t feel anything—not the shame she expected, nor the embarrassment of being caught in such a state.

“I can see the blankets moving,” Solas called, a hint of amusement lacing his voice. Isera felt a flush of embarrassment creep in despite her earlier numbness. She held her breath, hoping he would simply leave her be, but the teasing nature of his words left her no choice but to confront the reality of being discovered.

“It’s a ghost,” Isera replied, her voice hoarse from disuse. The playful deflection served as a shield against her embarrassment, a small attempt to lighten the mood despite her earlier discomfort. “Clearly there is a solid form,” Solas replied, his tone amused but steady. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“No, just a shell it seems,” Isera replied, feeling exposed as the blankets were suddenly pulled from her face. Solas stared at her, his expression unreadable, leaving her unsure whether it was pity or indifference. “You’re upset,” he stated, the softness in his voice betraying a concern that clashed with his earlier teasing.

“No. Being upset implies feeling. I’m not feeling anything,” Isera replied, her voice steady but hollow. The admission hung in the air between them, a stark acknowledgment of her emotional numbness. She met Solas’s gaze, hoping to convey the depth of her disconnect, even as the chaos of the outside world pressed in around them.

He sighed loudly, a mix of frustration and empathy in his voice. “You are upset because you experienced something you thought would no longer bother you. Yet, you had a taste of it only to have it cruelly taken away.” His words resonated in the quiet space, laying bare the reality of her feelings and the pain of loss that lingered beneath her calm facade.

“Really, do your elven eyes see that?” Isera shot back, her tone laced with sarcasm. She crossed her arms defensively, unwilling to fully confront the vulnerability he was trying to unearth. Despite the jest, a flicker of curiosity about his perspective tugged at her, but she pushed it aside, determined to maintain her bravado.

“Do you always deflect with humor or sarcasm?” Solas bristled at her words, his tone shifting slightly. There was a sharpness to his gaze as he regarded her, an unspoken challenge lingering in the air. Isera felt the heat of his scrutiny, realizing that her defenses might not be enough to mask her true feelings.

“Clearly. It’s a running theme,” she retorted, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. Her tone was sharp, a mix of defiance and humor as she stood her ground. Isera met his gaze with an unwavering look, determined to maintain her armor of sarcasm despite the vulnerability underneath.

“An exhausting one,’”Solas replied, his expression softening slightly as he regarded her. The hint of concern in his voice was unmistakable, as if he understood the weight of her sarcasm. He studied her, contemplating whether she would let her walls down or continue to hide behind her humor.

“Why are you here?” she asked, shifting the topic abruptly, her curiosity overriding her discomfort. She remained unmoving on her bed, a hesitant barrier between her and the world outside. The change in conversation offered her a momentary escape from the vulnerability they had been navigating.

“The Inquisitor is unable to break away from the nobles. Those in the inner circle who have gotten to know you are worried,” he explained, his tone carrying an unexpected sincerity. The weight of his words hung in the air.

“Yes, and why are you here?” Isera pressed, her curiosity piqued despite her earlier reluctance. She regarded him with a mixture of wariness and interest, eager to understand what had drawn him to her in this moment of vulnerability.

He seemed unimpressed with her attitude. “They have requested my assistance,” he replied, a hint of frustration in his voice. His gaze remained steady, undeterred by her deflection, as he made it clear that his presence was not merely a matter of choice but a response to a greater need.

“Well, you assisted. You can leave now,” she said, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture. The words were light, but there was an underlying sharpness to her tone, a clear indication that she wanted him to respect her space. Isera met his gaze with a challenging look, unwilling to let him linger any longer than necessary.

“I am afraid not,” Solas replied, his expression unyielding. There was a quiet determination in his voice, a refusal to back down in the face of her dismissal. He stepped closer, bridging the gap between them, his presence a reminder that he wouldn’t be easily dismissed. 

Isera let out a loud, whiny noise, exasperation bubbling to the surface. “Let me fall into the void in peace!” she exclaimed, her tone half-joking but laced with genuine weariness. The weight of her emotions pressed down on her, and she longed for the solitude that seemed just out of reach.

“You’re depressed,” Solas stated, his voice steady but tinged with concern. The simplicity of his observation cut through her defenses, forcing Isera to confront the reality she had been trying to avoid. She met his gaze, the weight of his words settling heavily between them.

“Yes, that’s why it’s called the void,” Isera shot back, her tone laced with sarcasm. She leaned back against her pillows, crossing her arms defiantly. The bitterness in her words masked the vulnerability she felt, as she fought to maintain her emotional distance from him."

"Get. Up," Solas demanded, his voice remaining soft yet firm. As he released the magic, it catapulted Isera out of her bed, the force of it startling her. She landed on her feet, slightly disoriented but compelled to meet his gaze, the urgency of his tone cutting through her lethargy.

Isera screamed, her eyes wide with disbelief. ‘Seriously? What if I was naked?’ she exclaimed, the embarrassment flooding her cheeks as she quickly glanced down, instinctively pulling the blankets around her. The suddenness of his command left her reeling, and she shot him a glare, torn between irritation and the remnants of her surprise.

“Then you’d be even more embarrassed,” Solas replied, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. His tone remained calm and steady, but there was an undeniable spark of mischief in his words. Isera couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his teasing, even as she felt the heat of embarrassment linger.

Isera clucked dismissively. “As if. My ass looks great clothed or unclothed.” Solas sighed loudly, clearly unamused, before making his way down into the clinic. Isera glanced at her reflection, noting her matted and flat hair from the lack of care. Quickly, she gathered it into a bun, hoping to create at least the appearance of being put together as she prepared to face the day ahead.

After changing into a clean mage robe, Isera made her way downstairs, her heart racing slightly with anticipation. Solas was still waiting, his posture relaxed but his expression unreadable. The air between them felt charged, and she steeled herself for whatever conversation awaited her as she stepped into the clinic.

Solas directed her to follow, and she complied, her heart quickening with each step they took down the stairs and toward the garden. As they walked, Isera's anxiety intensified, the unfamiliarity of the situation gnawing at her. “Where are we going?” she asked, a hint of apprehension creeping into her voice as she glanced up at him.

“You will see,” Solas answered, his expression unmoving as he led her forward. Isera sighed louder than before, a mix of frustration and curiosity bubbling beneath the surface. He guided her into one of the prayer rooms used by members of the Chantry. She wanted to make a remark about the solemnity of the space but restrained herself.

“Close your eyes,” he instructed gently. Isera complied, feeling a mix of anticipation and curiosity. He took her hands, pulling her into the room with a firm yet reassuring grip. “Stand here,” he told her, and she obeyed, sensing the space around her shift. She listened as he stepped back, the quiet settling in. “Open,” he commanded softly.

As Isera opened her eyes, she was greeted by the sight of walls adorned with the enchanted paint she had first seen weeks ago. One side depicted a lush, green forest, with crystals cascading down like glimmering raindrops between the leaves, creating an ethereal atmosphere. The other side showcased the members of the inner circle, their figures painted with intricate detail, each representing a unique aspect of their strength and unity.

“Cole shared that you missed seeing the forest and desired to see what the members of the Inquisition looked like,” Solas told her, standing at a distance and observing her as she moved around the room. Isera took in the vibrant colors and details of the artwork, feeling a sense of wonder wash over her. Each brushstroke seemed to breathe life into the space, inviting her to connect with the essence of her companions.

“I didn’t tell him that,” she whispered, approaching the mural of the inner circle. Her fingers traced the outlines of the painted figures, each one representing a vital piece of their collective strength. “No, Cole… is different. He is a spirit that took the form of a human. As such, he possesses abilities that a spirit does,” Solas explained, his voice steady. He watched her closely, noting the way she absorbed the details of the mural, a mix of curiosity and contemplation on her face.

“That’s why he looks different. He shimmers. He’s not actually human,” she responded, her gaze still captivated by the art before her. The vibrant colors and intricate details drew her in, making her momentarily forget the weight of their conversation. As she studied the mural, she felt a connection to the figures depicted, each representing a part of the Inquisition she was still getting to know.

“It seems that whatever magical effect has caused you to lose what most would consider vision allows you to see magical enchantments elsewhere,” Solas said, his voice soft and thoughtful. “As such, Varric asked me to see about enchanting the words of his books. Will you tell me if it works?”

Isera turned to look at him, her curiosity piqued. He was holding a small leather-bound book in his hand, its cover embossed with intricate designs. Isera felt a flicker of fear at the thought of touching it. She could see the enchantment shimmering between the pages, an alluring dance of light. As she stared at the cover, her eyes began to water, the weight of her emotions swelling as she traced the binding with her fingers.

After a minute, she steeled herself and began to open the book. Instead of the blank, gray pages she expected, she was met with shining black letters that glimmered as if alive. The sight filled her with wonder, each word pulsing with the magic that had transformed the ordinary into the extraordinary.

Hard in Hightown by Varric Tethras

Chapter One

They say coin never sleeps, but anyone who’s walked the patrol of Hightown Market at midnight might disagree…

Tears rolled down her cheeks as Isera held her breath, desperately trying to contain the wave of emotions threatening to burst forth. As she focused on the book, she felt the Veil pressing against her, the familiar sensation that allowed her to perceive things beyond the ordinary. If the Veil could touch it, she could see it.

However, books posed a challenge; the words were flat against the pages, and the Veil couldn’t differentiate between them. It failed to recognize colors unless they possessed magical properties. The Veil moved through gradients of gray, never truly black and never truly white, leaving Isera to navigate a world viewed through a grayscale lens. It was only when she encountered enchanted objects that shimmered with vibrant colors that she felt a glimmer of hope, a reminder of the beauty that lay just beyond her reach.

“Does it…? We can try again,” Solas said, stepping closer and lowering himself to one knee, concern evident in his voice. “Dorian had another idea if this one failed.” He reached for the book, intending to take it from her, but Isera refused to let it go. Her grip tightened as she clung to the book, her tears still falling silently, her determination unyielding. This moment meant more to her than words could express.

“Solas,” she hiccupped, a smile breaking through the tears as she quickly wiped her cheeks dry. “It works. I can see the words.” It was hard for her to speak; her chest felt heavy with a mix of joy and disbelief. “I wasn’t expecting any of this.” She gestured around at the murals, the vibrant art reflecting the magic in the room. “But I can’t read. Not novels.” A soft, pathetic giggle escaped her, the sound both light and tinged with embarrassment as she tried to process the overwhelming experience.

“I was six when I lost my vision. I can read spell books when they are enchanted, runes, and basic sentences to understand spells, but… not this…” Her shoulders slumped in defeat as she spoke, the weight of her limitations settling heavily on her. The contrast between her newfound ability to see the words and her inability to fully engage with them left her feeling frustrated and vulnerable.

She couldn’t look him in the eye; the embarrassment was overwhelming. She felt the heat radiating from her cheeks, a flush of warmth that only intensified her discomfort. As her emotions swirled, she noticed her nose beginning to clog, making it harder to breathe. Isera turned her gaze to the floor, feeling vulnerable under Solas's steady observation.

He moved to sit near her, his presence calm and reassuring. “There is a natural rectification for that. I will enchant more books that you can practice from. There is no reason to be ashamed. You have demonstrated that you are a powerful mage. You have trained your will to control magic and withstand possession. The same indomitable focus used for that can be utilized for this skill.’ His words resonated with passion and conviction, and Isera could see that he genuinely believed in her ability to master this new challenge."

Isera chuckled softly, a hint of sarcasm in her tone. ‘Indomitable focus?’ she echoed, raising an eyebrow. The phrase felt grandiose in the face of her uncertainty, but there was a spark of amusement in her eyes. Despite her earlier embarrassment, Solas's encouragement stirred something within her—a flicker of hope amidst her doubts.

“Presumably. I have yet to see it dominated. I imagine that the sight would be… fascinating,” Solas replied, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. The corner of his mouth quirked slightly, as if he found the idea both intriguing and amusing. Isera couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm, feeling the tension in the air lighten just a bit.

And for once, Isera had no retort for him, the playful banter slipping away. He offered a slight smirk before beginning to describe each member depicted in the mural, detailing who contributed what to its creation. As he spoke, Isera felt a warmth bloom within her; for the first time in her life, she felt completely included in something she had not expected. The sense of belonging wrapped around her like a comforting cloak, and she listened intently, absorbing every word.

[jupiter049]

It's kind of insane how series 11 is an actual 100% fresh start for the show and then series 12 is just full on charged with continuity that basically expects you to already know it.

The reveal of The Master loses almost all impact if you aren't already familiarized with the character, the destruction from Gallifrey has next to no weight if you aren't already familiarized with it, Jack's return is an entirely random subplot if you don't already know him, they don't even try to explain the chameleon arch, and the entire mystery around The Fugitive Doctor comes down to you already being invested in regeneration and The Doctor's different lives.

Sure all of these have some impact if you don't know them. A person we thought was an ally is actually evil, The Doctor's home planet is destroyed, a mystery is raised about this strange entity who claims to be The Doctor, etc. But this is just the most surface level way to connect with them, the actual meat of these moments, almost all their weight gets lost if you aren't already invested in at the very least the rtd era.

And honestly? I sort of admire the complete and earnest commitment to it. Like yeah, fuck the new viewers, fuck them. You want to know what the chameleon arch is? Fuck you, buy a series 3 dvd and watch Human Nature/Family Of Blood.

It also strangely works narratively. Like, having The 13th Doctor think she can just "let go" from The Doctor Of War, bury that past and go on with her life only to have her past come full force to strike her and the bonds she has formed? Including a past live she didn't even know existed? That's genuinely compelling.

It also works on a meta level, like if the show itself is literally confessing it can't make a 100% fresh jumping on point. Like if the nearly 60 years of history of tv and canon is a giant inescapable shadow it has to embrace rather than hopelessly try to escape. As long as The Doctor has a past, some sort of backstory, continuity will be present in some level even if small.

[curlyhairedbibliophile]

Cover Art | Blood at the Root by LaDarrion Williams

A teenager on the run from his past finds the family he never knew existed and the community he never knew he needed at an HBCU for the young, Black, and magical. Enroll in this fresh fantasy debut with the emotional power of Legendborn and the redefined ancestral magic of Lovecraft Country. Ten years ago, Malik’s life changed forever the night his mother mysteriously vanished and he discovered he had uncontrollable powers. Since then, he has kept his abilities hidden, looking out for himself and his younger foster brother, Taye. Now, at 17, Malik is finally ready to start a new life for both of them, far from the trauma of his past. However, a daring act to rescue Taye reveals an unexpected connection with his long-lost grandmother: a legendary conjurer with ties to a hidden magical university that Malik’s mother attended. At Caiman University, Malik’s eyes are opened to a future he never could have envisioned for himself— one that includes the reappearance of his first love, Alexis. His search for answers about his heritage, his powers, and what really happened to his mother exposes the cracks in their magical community as it faces a reawakened evil dating back to the Haitian Revolution. Together with Alexis, Malik discovers a lot beneath the surface at Caiman: feuding covens and magical politics, forbidden knowledge and buried mysteries.  In a wholly unique saga of family, history and community, Malik must embrace his legacy to save what’s left of his old family as well as his new one. Exploring the roots and secrets that connect us in an unforgettable contemporary setting, this heart-pounding fantasy series opener is a rich tapestry of atmosphere, intrigue, and emotion.

Artwork by Hillary D. Wilson

Release date | May 7, 2024 Storygraph