#i didn’t know what gold symbolised until I looked it up

[raptr-rambles]

I don’t know if this is anything but I wanna talk a bit about Kim’s name in Chinese - 金

金 means gold, a precious metal associated with generosity and compassion, as well as being synonymous with divinity and power in many religious settings.

And what is associated with Kim?

A white circle in his portrait, that of a heavenly saint in paintings.

Authority, his firmness and his infamous eyebrow.

His compassion towards Harry even at his absolute lowest.

His generosity towards Harry when he can’t afford a night at the Whirling in Rags.

I know this is all probably coincidence, as Kim in Chinese is just 金 cause it sounds similar (I guess? I don’t know, it does in Cantonese but doesn’t in Mandarin. Language is weird like that man)

But I want to interpret it as: Kim is precious to you, someone so invaluable and you’re so very lucky and grateful to have him.

[duohensheng]

jgy x class fascinates me to the bone. i agree that the crux is that jgy was never afforded an in-group. his mother (and by extension he) never developed class solidarity with the rest of the brothel, which i always read as a coping mechanism on meng shi’s part since she was projecting into meng yao’s future (and she probably also felt she was never going to “fit in” among them either— @poorlittleyaoyao * has EXCELLENT headcannon takes on meng shi and her background working backwards from what we have).

but i don’t think jgy has no class solidarity at all in a broader sense. for one, he’s extremely class conscious, and he lives in constant despair that he’s on the outside looking in re. the upper class. you can read his burning down of the brothel he was born at as an attempt to erase his origins, i guess, but i think jgy knows he can never outrun his origins. guanyin temple is his physical manifestation of the hope for absolution: mercy in his mother’s image, gilded in gold. to me that’s not erasure, it’s the closest he can come at expressing how he feels about the weird denial/rejection of class he grew up in. because meng shi didn’t just “want him to become higher class”. she believed he belonged with the higher class, and wanted him to look the part and know what he needed to know to fit in accordingly.

i don’t think the torture (appropriate imo) of those sex workers means he doesn’t have class solidarity. he proves through everything else he does that he puts the “ordinary people” first. this to me is a case of the personal and political intersecting and the personal winning out. his disgust for jgs x sex workers isn’t a disgust with prostitutes necessarily, it’s personal to the situation. i wish we knew how he interacted with sex workers more broadly so we could see the extent to which he projects his trauma onto them as a group, but we don’t, so this is obviously conjecture. i think the death of jgs is him projecting every twisted feeling of disgust and rage back onto the cause of his upbringing, for one. but also, i kind of read this as a partial embodiment or adoption of the mode of thinking of the upper classes re. sex workers; weaponising that to hit his father for once, not him. but it’s a caricature. he’ll never be like his father, or forget where he comes from. the metaphorical resonance is huge: this is what his father twists him into; what he twists into when he pretends he can stomach him. his last and closest adherence to his father. and after the burning (cleansing fire imagery etc) he is reborn asking for mercy, and as himself, puppet strings cut.

it is horrible that he kills them after. he doesn’t give them the chance symbolised in the razing of the brothel and construction of the guanyin temple— he doesn’t give them mercy. you could argue he felt he didn’t have a choice or that politically it made no sense to let them go since he was trying to cover up his own involvement, and jgy certainly makes political decisions with personal protection at the forefront, but i think he did have a choice. i think it was the last bad choice of the rotten cycle begun by his father, and i think he made it with relish, in a sense. i read it as the last raging scream. to him the sex workers weren’t an opportunity to give mercy. they symbolised the thing he needed mercy from, and wasn’t afforded. they were “what” he burned to build guanyin temple. what he needed mercy for. like prev said, they were him at his absolute darkest and lowest, giving in to the greedy vengeful need to watch the horrors of his childhood burn to make way for cleaner air. he didn’t associate them with the mercy he wished his mother was afforded. jgy made decisions (until the day after this, when he became Jin Zongzhu by rights) not like a member of the upper classes but like a straining, desperate, cornered man with nothing but cleverness and ruthlessness to pull on. given a calmer sea and the reigns, his characteristic temperate kindness takes over. but no, there is no excusing it. they were real human beings, not objects to be used for revenge or symbolic extrication from the harmful system they were victims of first. excusing it would pull its teeth, and there was nothing but teeth here

tldr: you need empathy and identification for class solidarity and jgy has plenty of the former, but possibly not for sex workers as a whole (projection of trauma) and certainly not for those specific sex workers with jgs because the symbolic weight took over. still inexcusable but so interesting.

* https://poorlittleyaoyao.tumblr.com/post/712797760014942208/care-to-share-your-backstory-for-meng-shi highly recommended reading

Need me a JGY fan to explain to me why killing the sex workers after having them kill his father isn’t deranged and excessive. That’s what gets me about his character. I can get everything else he did (not what I would have done but I get why he did it) but that one is kind of beyond justification to me

Which sucks because I like characters who are objectively kind of terrible people!! Lan Xichen is my favorite mdzs character after all and Nie Huaisang is a close second, but I can’t get over that

Please talk to me about it, I love analyzing characters!

[heartshyuck]

Pairing: Jisung x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, angst,slow burn, strangers to lovers au, first love, early 1900s au.

Synopsis: Lavenders symbolise purity, silence, devotion, serenity and grace. All endearing characteristics of the gorgeous boy, you met in the fields of purple.

Placed in the late 1930s , just before World War two starts, you flee from your family who are forcing you into a marriage. You lie low in a small village where you meet Jisung in a field of lavenders.

Word count: 23k lmao

Warnings: female reader, misogyny and very backwards ways of thinking, forced marriages, world war two + historical inaccuracy for progression of the plot, drinking

a/n: this is the longest fic i have ever written and honestly it was a mission, it took about a month to write and I am genuinely so proud of it and really happy with it. Please don't be scared by the length but when I say slow burn, I really mean it!

Your legs seem to be moving on their own, feet hitting the ground at a steady and fast pace, you don’t look back and can’t seem to see what lies ahead but still you run until your lungs burn, run until the bitter metallic taste is at the back of your throat where bile threatens to rise. You run until finally your legs collapse, knees hitting the ground, grazing them and it’s the slight sting of the sediment seeping into the cuts that stop you from passing out. You’re not sure how far you’ve ran or how long you’ve been running, you don’t know where you're running to but you have to escape. 

Escape the life they’ve laid out for you, the one they’ve planned without your input, you can’t live a life where everything is set out, where ’everything is expected and perfect. A life where you’d get married at 18 to a stranger who was of a worthy social class, attend formal lunches with the wives of your husband’s work colleagues and host dinner parties and occasionally large balls in a manor that always felt empty no matter how many paintings you bought to hang on the never ending amount of walls, no matter how many more bookshelves you tried to fit into one room, a place that you’ll always hate. Then to have children by 20, as many boys as possible of course to then not have any say in their upbringing and watch nurses tend to them, your husband educate them and then watch them get married, meet your grandchildren and when you’ve reached a respectable age, death will meet you in your sleep and you’ll be mourned and then forgotten. A life filled with regret, a constant numbness, no fulfilment and no meaning.

You saw your mum live that life, a smile that never quite reached her eyes, always plastered on at any given moment as she walked around the large hall with a glass of nothing but champagne in hand greeting the hundreds of guests that you were never able to comprehend how she managed to remember them all. She never spoke unless spoken to, never put in any input and always obeyed your father even when you could see the frustration bubble up inside her as her eyes glinted and her jaws tightened with the urge to say something.

She would buy gifts upon gifts and shower you in expensive luxuries, spoil you in riches as a form of love and yet it always held another meaning behind it. There was a slight sadness in her eyes as she passed a gift every birthday,christmas and any other reason she found, almost as if she was saying sorry for the life you were going to live and how she’d use these moments as blackmail for when that time came. You’d overhear her quiet sobs when you would sneak around the house late at night, read letters she received from someone you didn’t know and how they wished for her life to get better and for her to find happiness in a world where happiness didn’t exist. You saw your mother cry when your father died, eyes bloodshot red in fear rather than grief. Her life was now uncertain and that's when you decided that you couldn't live an empty life, regretting choices and wishing for death to come to you first.

Your father had always made sure that you would receive a proper education, one where you'd read hours upon hours of the finest English literature, works of science and learned of the past and present politics. He always said "a lady should know about the world around her but should never venture off on her own" you hated that phrase but it was better than what you overheard your friend's father saying to her when she asked for him to explain the concept of communism, "a women does not need to busy herself with politics, for your brain could not even begin to comprehend it" he announced with his nose high up in the air as if he had just said the most inquisitive statement known to man. It baffled you how one could even think that, let alone truly believe it enough to announce it so stupidly in the open, it was obvious that women were capable of understanding concepts like politics, maths and science for you were living proof.

You did better than your brother at grasping algebra, better at them with understanding Versalius's "De humani corporis fabrica" and it didn't take your friend long to understand Karl Marx's theory on communism once you explained it to her. It angered you that this was dismissed especially when your brother soon went off to universities for they had outgrown your father's enormous library and knowledge, there was no more he could teach them but there was still much to learn and you yearned to do the same but as you approached a suitable age for marriage, your everyday classes on Shakespearean English, Tudor monarchy, Greek mythology and Italian art had now been replaced with sewing, crochet, dining etiquette and the differences between napkins, white laced ones for formal lunches, gold embroidery for important dinners and regular silk for everyday use, you'd recite to your mother and the many maids who were on standby.

You've left that world now, left the bustling streets of industrialised London where a black smog always hung around the air and the smell of burnt rubber that stung your nose, you always hated both. Though you grew up in a large estate where there seemed to be a never ending amount of land on the outskirts of London, you never were allowed out to explore. Only allowed out with your mother to pick out fabrics in the markets, surrounded by military men that guarded the general's wife and daughter but now you were alone, no guards, no mother and no black smog to block your view of what lies ahead, only the sun and the ocean sky, clear of clouds as you breathe in fresh air that cleanses your lungs from the toxins that hang in the city air, surrounded by vibrant lavenders that arrive with a strong, sweet smell of pollen which you welcome to replace the bitter rubber your sense of smell only seems to know.

You close your eyes and bask in the warmth of late August , the sun gleaming down on you, rays striking against your skin with the wind between the strands of your hair, blowing the lavenders and they slightly tickle your arms. You’re not sure how long you were in your euphoric trance but you weren't ready to leave yet when the dark shadow was casted over you.

Your eyes lazily open and beauty lies ahead, the sun gleaming behind him, lights him on flames and he burns with a presence so strong you can see it as his aura swirls around you, engulfing you. His features,strong and yet his eyes are soft and even as he's turned away from the sun they sparkle infinitely as they hold the brightest stars, his stare pierces through you and it makes your gut clench as you feel small under his gaze but you don't turn away, daring him to continue staring down on you, well that's what you tell yourself as you can't help but get lost in the beauty of his eyes. His face wears a worried expression, his hand out forwards for you to take and place in his and it takes you a while to realise he's trying to help you up, even longer to comprehend the words that leave his mouth, as you just watch his cherry red lips move. You're dazed and for the first time you're not thinking straight, your legs won't move to carry you back up onto your feet but your hand instinctively moves towards him and your own mouth gapes open as it does, and again he repeats himself emphasising the words as his eyes widen further “are you feeling well?” you stare blankly at him, no response until you feel the burning sensation of his hand in yours. A heat that sends shocks through every nerve, it runs through your bloodstream lighting you on fire and as if you were burnt you pull back, shaking off the dizzy spell you rise to your feet, your body finally responding to your screaming brain. A sense of relief washes over you as the fear of losing your mind slowly seeps out as the haze in your mind clears, until your eyes meet his again. “Really y/n, not for a boy” you cry out in your head as your mind seems to be lost in awe looking at him.

You shuffle uncomfortably and it’s just now you realise how much of a mess you look as the embodiment of beauty’s eyes fall down. Your expensive dress torn up, what was once a full sangria and silver ball gown was now rags that wrapped around you with the bottom half missing as it stopped just above your knees, an uneven hem due to the rough ripping which took all of your strength, the white net underneath was visibly stained a brownish yellow, the cuts on your knee not being the only thing the dirt seeped into  but his eyes don’t even seem to stop there, they didn't even seem to notice, only meeting a piece of paper that lied on the floor. He reaches down for it, his eyebrows perk up slightly before handing it back to you.“You dropped this” he avoids eye contact, continuing to stare down, his hand abruptly extends out in front of him and he clears his throat, adding to the excruciating awkwardness between you and you wince at the sudden sound.

“Oh thank you..” you can hear your voice waver and crack and for the first time in your life, your voice isn’t confident, seems like a day full of firsts, your mother would’ve been proud if she saw you acting like this, like a lady she would have put it. Quiet, reserved but really it was just a suffocating stiffness that lingered in the air.

“Jisung” he completes your sentence, a small, shy smile appears on his face as his eyes look at everything but you, the letter still in his grasp he shakes his hand at you slightly urging you to take it. Your fingers brush past his ever so slightly as you take the letter back into your possession, a spark is sent through you and your fingers twitch, as if wanting more but you stop them from moving any further, your eyes slightly widen as you catch yourself falling so easily and if Jisung catches the weird expressions on your face, he chooses to ignore them not saying anything. “You are not from around here, are you?” His voice is light and airy as he speaks softly, as if you were made of glass and any harsh tone could break you, you can’t tell if it’s because of the immense awkwardness or because of the pity he must feel seeing you in such a state. You hope it’s the former and decide that’s what it is, when he starts playing with the edges of his white shirt.

“No I live in London” the words die as soon as they leave your mouth, you used to live in London, you don’t anymore. This only adds to Jisung’s awkwardness and it reminds you no matter how beautiful he is, he’s only just a boy who’s probably around your age. So you smile at him, letting out a small breathy laugh in hopes of lightening the mood, it works as he visibly unstiffens. “Used to” Jisung doesn’t press on the matter any further, doesn’t ask anymore questions, just nods. The unsettling atmosphere sets in once again and your incapability of standing in silence for more than a second, you clear your throat "do you know where this address is?" your tone light and airy, you sound almost clueless and it’s now you realise the true meaning behind every etiquette class, the role of the women is the domestic war, the war on power. For one to rise they must make powerful allies and that’s what this voice is for, to obtain the power of a man and trick them into helping you; so you're glad when Jisung takes the letter back into his grasp and examines the writing at the front, it’s worked.

“I’ll show you the way” and you nod with a slight smile as a thank you, Jisung leads the way and you follow soon behind, with his face no longer in my sight you can finally observe the rest of him. Judging by his height and build, seems like he comes from a well off family. Though there wasn’t a day you felt hungry, you weren’t blind to the outside world no matter how hard your parents tried to shelter you from it. The world is living off rations but the wealthy still have access to more, Jisung must have some sought of status or most likely works for a household with high status considering it seemed like he was running errands, why else would he be in a field full of lavenders and it’s only reinforced by the fine silk that flows as wind rushes past you. Somewhat similar to the material that makes up your gown, or what’s left of it, it’s an expensive material imported from colonies in the empire. He walks with no flaw and so you guess he didn’t serve in the war, meaning he has to be around your age; this new life is exciting and scary, you’re not sure what you want yet but you certainly wouldn’t mind if the boy in the lavender field stuck around for a while.

Jisung’s steps slowed and soon came to a stop outside a large estate, it was nowhere near as big as your parent's manor but comparing it to the small petite houses in the village you could just about see; it definitely was the biggest house in the village. You turned to thank Jisung, mouth slightly opened as the words were prepared to leave until you saw him pull out a key and a heat rose up your neck onto your face, in both slight embarrassment and excitement as you realised that Jisung must live here and your mouth couldn’t help but confirm your thoughts, “do you live here?” you blurted quickly with a slight lift in your tone, which you hope wasn’t too obvious in exposing your excitement.

His eyebrows rise, a small smile appears but he doesn’t answer your question, continuing to unlock the doors and allows you to step in first, a women who barely makes it past Jisung’s shoulders calls out to him, embracing him as she tightly wraps her arms around his waist, Jisung leans back slightly as a way of hoping to loosen her grip as his face scrunches up in pain as the struggle to breath sets in but there’s a constant smile on his face right until he peels her off. It’s then she punches him in the stomach, making him crouch down below her, holding onto his stomach.

“How many breaths must I waste in having to tell you to make sure you fulfill all your duties before you head to the fields'' she nags him and a smile is brought to your face at the violent display of affection, you guess he must be a part of the service team that works for the master of this house, which was exceptionally beautiful in the inside; much bigger than what it lets off from the outside, your eyes can’t help but linger elsewhere and observe the hidden beauty in all the small intricate designs. “Young master” the lady continues to punish him for his action and you head whips around at her words, she hasn’t even noticed you but Jisung’s eyes are constantly on you watching your expressions change as more as more information is being released to you, a smile appears on his face and at first it seems like a smirk but soon you notice the constant pink dust across his cheeks and you realise he’s embarrassed. There’s a strange feeling in your chest, a warmth that spreads and has you clutching your fists as you think at how adorable he is, your eyebrows furrow and you shake both the thoughts and the smile off.

Finally after what seems like hours of you staring at Jisung but in reality was no longer than a few seconds, the petite woman turns to you and acknowledges your presence,  her eyes widen in surprise and she rushes to your side. “Oh lord, my dear child are you okay?” she grabs your hands and ushers you down the hall into a secluded room that takes up a big portion of the ground floor of the house.

The kitchen, filled with plenty of workers,busy hands and food; she shouts at a maid to move a few things around and to make some space for you around the small table that holds vegetables and freshly cut meat. There’s the smell of spices that are definitely too exotic to be from these lands, parcels with German writing and several people cooking dishes you don’t recognise.

You're pushed down onto a small wooden chair that slightly rocks and it is by far the most uncomfortable place you’ve ever sat but you don’t dare complain even after the minutes pass and your legs begin to ache. The maids ran around you and even as you left that world behind, you still somehow ended up in the same position and then you realise it’s the fine silk you wear that sets you apart, the rows and rows of pearls around your neck and rings on your fingers. They don’t ask any questions, just wiping away at the dirt on your legs; the same women at the door pouring a type of alcohol over your cuts and it stings drawing out a hiss from you, “sorry” she whispers and blows slightly on the irritated skin. The kitchen quiets down and the other maids exit, leaving you and the same women who scolded Jisung, she didn’t bother to ask him any questions and quickly sent him away to carry on with the work he didn’t finish, she doesn’t ask you any questions either for it’s not her place to ask. 

She wraps bandages around your knees and your eyes wander around, landing on a picture of her with three little boys, you recognise the smallest to be Jisung, she catches your eyes and smiles “the masters, when they were little devils” she remarks making you and her both let out small laughs, “though they aren't much better now” she smiles fondly as she continues to wrap the bandages, you see love in her eyes and can tell that she raised them.

“The smallest is Jisung, am I correct?” you ask just to confirm your assumption, she nods and smiles, “i can tell by his awkwardness, it’s radiant even in pictures” you scoff and she laughs. "Who are the other two?" Your curiosity seemingly has no end.

"The tallest is master Jeno and the one in the middle is master Jaemin" she says as she cuts the bandage. You take note of their names and match it to their appearances though you assume they've probably changed quite a bit. The tallest, Jeno has crescent moons for eyes as his smile pushes them up, it's adorable. The middle, Jaemin also has a bright smile, probably the prettiest you’ve ever seen but Jisung still stands out the most to you, maybe it’s because you’ve seen how he looks now; the change is definitely visible, he’s grown much taller and into his sharp features. He's definitely handsome, epitome of beauty but by the way he timidly walks you’re not quite sure he knows it.

“Will these do, ma’am?” her hands hold onto a set of clean clothes and you only nod at her as you take the clothes from her hands, calloused and rough from years of labour. "Please just call me y/n" you tell her trying to remove your status and she only nods in return. "And what may I call you" you ask her.

"Daphne" she replies and you notice that she smiles at you, a full smile nothing quite like you've seen before and you'd like to think this what a smile should look like. Genuine. Instead of all the small smiles you recieved, the ones with hidden agendas and meanings, the ones because of who your father was, the one because of your status, name, title, money and a persuasion for your hand in marriage. So many smiles yet none truly considered one. God you hated that life.

"Now y/n let me show you to a room" she leads you out the room and you follow her upstairs, all the maids rushing back into the kitchen after you have left. She turns left and right and you find that the upstairs is far more complicated to navigate, with many different rooms. When she finally reaches a long corridor, she stops to point at the room that awaits at the end. "That will be your room ma'am" and before she even could finish her sentence properly, "y/n" you correct her and she only nods, giving you a soft smile as an apology."Please call for me if anything isn't to your liking" she says and just as she's about to step away, ready to leave you to get comfortable.

You call her back, "Daphne, can you please tell me who this is" you lift up the small blue letter that leads you here to this address, to finally put a name to the mysterious woman who only seemed to want the best for you and your mother. She takes the small letter from your grasp, examining the small font that's slowly fading due to the number of years it's collected dust. Her eyes widen as she reads the letter, her head snapping up to look at you, her lips parting slightly as if her jaw threatened to drop.

"My god" she says as she continues to read, shock written all over her face, "this is from the master's mother, dear" she tells you and you join her in shock as your jaw hangs a lot more obviously in shock. "She worked for your family when she was young" she continues to tell you and the ripples of shock continue to pulse through your body. Your mother and her are good friends from what you've gathered, reading all the letters you found. Yet your mother never even allowed you to mix classes, always telling you to stick with your own people, people who can pay for your time, literally. Yet here she was being friends with a woman considered below her, even considering sending you away to her. The hypocrisy is what shocked you the most, for you didn't think your mother could build relationships if it weren't for a social advantage.

"Can I meet her?" you ask, excited until you see sadness seep into her eyes, she looks down and she shuffles slightly. Her eyes glossy with tears threatening to fall and your own shoulders droop down and a frown is formed on your lips. "I'm sorry" you apologise but she shakes her head and wipes her eyes slightly.

"Don't be silly, you didn't know and it's better you found out through me anyways." She tells you and you're glad that you found out through her too, you don't think you would've been able to handle it coming from Jisung. "If you do not mind me, but when did she pass" you ask carefully as to not break her.

"Last May" she tells you and you hear sadness in her voice , as it slightly cracks and you release a deep sigh as to rid your body from the contagious mood. With that she hands the letter back into your hand and leaves you to wash up, "Dinner will be ready soon, please wash up" she urges you to go into the room.

You walk down the corridor, steps heavy as your heart grieves for Jisung and as you're reminded of your own father's death, though he planned on marrying you to a stranger you didn't love and never truly wanting you to live happily. You loved and still love him with every ounce of your being, all making grief an impossibly hard process. For your heart hurt and your mind could not comprehend why.  Your eyes stung with tears and your hands trembling with pain and still the mind was questioning why you felt sad. Then the guilt blooms, hovering above you, for this man raised you and cared for you and yet you question your grief as you sit by his deathbed. Yet you remind yourself that questioning your grief is better than not feeling any at all, you remember looking over towards your mother who wore black and instead of grieving her husband's death, she felt grief for her widow status that crushed her social status, for who was she without her husband.

So as you remove the many pearls and diamonds around your neck, gifted to you by your mother, you’re reminded why you left that life behind. You won’t be defined by your husband but by what you have achieved and for who you are. Yet you leave on the thin golden chain with a single pendant on your neck, as a reminder for where to come from and how far you’ve travelled. It was a gift from both your mother and father, the one gift you like to think wasn’t used as a symbol of your wealth to attract men in asking for your hand in marriage, the simplicity of this necklace led you to believe that this was a genuine gift of their love.

Changing out of your ball gown or the remainders of it, you feel anew. Stripping out of your old skin and into much comfortable and humble ones, you feel as if your new life is finally starting and though it’s far from what anyone would have wanted for your life to be like, it’s what you want. You’ve been here for just under an hour and instantly you're on cloud nine, floating to where only the sun is. The rays dancing on your skin and euphoria runs within your veins, this is life.  

You’re not sure how long you’ve been in a daze but soft knocks on the door is what awakens you and you're quick to open the door, not wanting to leave the person on the other side waiting but you’re met with a fist, that seems as if it malfunctions as it goes down by the side of the same person who seems to waking you out of all your dazes recently. Jisung stands there awkwardly, legs crossed and hands behind his back, he stutters as he says “dinner is...um.. It is awaiting” and with that he cuts himself off, rushing the words out of his mouth and quickly turns around, rushing downstairs.

You can only smile at him, how was someone allowed to be that cute. Following soon after him you enter into the dinning room, the smile on your face completely wiped off by the shock of two other men sitting around the table. Your back straightens as your body stiffens, by habit, you’ve been taught to look most confident when caught off guard.

“Sit here y/n” Daphne takes out the seat opposite of Jisung and next to a man you don’t know until he smiles your way, you recognise that smile and it’s still as pretty as it looks in the picture hanging in the kitchen. You smile back at him as you make your way by his side and take your seat.

“Hello, I’m Jaemin” he turns to you, dropping his fork and it clatters as it hits the plate, a beautiful smile across his face and you finding it comforting to think it hasn’t changed at all. He then lifts your hand to his lips, placing them softly on your knuckles all whilst keeping that damn smile held across his lips and staring straight into your soul, heat rises up your body slightly thrown back and he can see the shock in your eyes . Your well crafted facade cracking. His eyes are still boring into yours and you can’t move, stuck looking into his eyes, hands stuck to his until a kick. Coming from across the table, a force hits Jaemin’s shin causing him to yelp, instantly turning away from you and dropping your hand, you notice a small smile on Jisung’s face as he tries to conceal his laughter. You turn to look at where such a force came from, fierce strong features and an intimidating stare yet when he turns to you crescent moons appear, his aura changing immediately and the child in the portrait comes to life. “I’m Jeno” his voice is soft yet clear and all you can do is smile back before replying simply your name “Y/N” you tell him and he nods your way. 

Thinking that silence would now set in was foolish of you, for you should’ve guessed Jaemin isn’t the type to let there be silence and looking back now you could definitely tell he was itching to ask you so many questions. “I guess you have already met Jisung” he turns to you again and you only nod, looking up at the tall boy in front of you but he only stares at the soup in front of him but you know he senses your gaze as he twitches slightly in his seat, holding himself back from looking up and directly into your eyes. “He is not usually this quiet, he will warm up to you soon” Jaemin apologises on behalf of Jisung yet he grimaces at the words that leave Jaemin’s mouth but you smile at Jaemin ignoring Jisung’s expression.

The rest of dinner is filled with small talk between you and Jaemin, him asking you your favourite colour and trivial things like that, you discussed different authors and scriptors to which Jeno also chimed in on the conversation, both very impressed on your knowledge though you aren’t sure if they were impressed because you were a woman or genuinely impressed by the vast knowledge you had accumulated over the years spent in your father’s library however you brushed that thought aside, carrying on with the conversation, eyes drifting to Jisung at times who just sat there playing around with spoon, twisting it between his fingers instead of daring to look at you let alone to add to the conversation. Finally as Daphne takes away the plates, Jeno stands up dismissing himself from the table, “It was a pleasure to meet you Y/N, I hope you stay a while it was fun having you” he tells you with those same moons for eyes and you thank him for his hospitality “It was a great pleasure to meet you too, thank you for allowing me to stay” you say them at Jeno and Jaemin but they’re mainly directed to Jisung who brought you here.

“If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to tell me” Jaemin smiles, a hand on your shoulder as he stands next to where you sit and you only nod at him, he then comes to your ear, lips so close you feel them brush against the shell “Jisung will come around, I’m sorry if he’s making you feel uncomfortable” he apologises on his behalf for the second time that night and you wave him off with a smile. You could already tell that Jisung is shy and awkward but it’s not confused for hate or resentment, he simply doesn’t know how to act around a female and it’s clear the way he trips over his words and his very own legs but to be fair they are very long.

After everyone left the table and made their ways to their own rooms, you too made your way to bed. Laying there you think back to how far you’ve come, a few months ago this all would have been nothing but a dream and now it’s a reality and the euphoric feeling you imagine is everything and more. Freedom is worth anything is what you’ve learnt, the freedom to live your life the way you want. To be in control of all your decisions, living with the consequences but not a single shred of regret because you chose it and therefore it must have been for a reason. It’s new and exciting but so scary as the colony of butterflies bloom in your stomach, all the possibilities panning out in your head and for some reason as you drift off to sleep that night, you see Jisung in this future of yours.

The sun shined in through the sheer curtains of your room, sunlight dancing on your skin and the warmth made you feel alive as it tingled. The house was quiet and as you look out the window you realise that even the Sun has still yet to wake fully, still sleepy rising out of the horizon. The birds chirp and the lavender fields roar as the wind dances but there in the middle of it all is a figure. Jisung. Your eyes light up and your legs are quick to move, still in your nightgown, hair in a mess you rush to meet him there. The stairs creak as you step down them slowly, as if a child trying not to get caught, you try your best not to wake a soul.

Once out the door you run out towards the purple sea, the cold morning air refreshing to the midday humidity that sticks your clothes to your skin, instead the wind blows through you and you feel free as all boundaries and confinements are washed away but then it hits you, causing your legs to halt. Jisung barely knows you, how weird it would be for you to run up to him at the break of dawn? Very weird you decide as you slowly make your way back to the house, hoping to not make any noise that might draw his attention your way.

Stepping back inside, your back against the heavy wooden door you let out a deep sigh as your eyes fall closed in relief. Thank god he didn't see you, you think to yourself as you just stepped into the living room and your heart dropped down to your stomach, lungs stopping as you see him there. Jisung flicking through a book, his eyes come up to meet yours which are blown out in shock as you stare between him and looking back at the door, his lips fold into a line and you practically see the questions forming in his mind as he scratches the top of his head.

“Good Morning” you say with a smile but the embarrassment isn’t covered well, eyes everywhere but his. He softly replies with a mumble you’re unsure if he actually said anything back or if you just made it up but as your eyes land on the book in his hand and all thoughts are banished. You rush round the table, Jisung’s eyes wide now as it’s his turn to be shocked as you sit down beside him, taking the book out of his hand to have a look at the title. “Ah a classic” you say as your fingers run over the title and Jisung only nods at your words. “Is it your favorite Shakespearean play?” you ask in hopes of starting up conversation, all you get in return is nod of the head but that does nothing but urge you to talk again to fill the silence. “I like Hamlet but i think Macbeth is my favourite. The best character being Lady Macbeth, a strong ambitious women” you state and Jisung only laughs at this causing you to turn back to him.

“She had lost her mind” he laughs again and you smile

“Yes but as a woman she exerts power and it’s not really seen much in female characters in stories and real life” you tell him, explaining how a woman like her is admirable for her strong spirit.

“Yes but doesn’t Shakespear describe her to have a masculine soul that within a femine body, he is saying the ambition and power are masculine and therefore is she really a good embodiment for strong powerful females?” he argues back, questioning you and you can’t help but smile.

“But he uses her and the witches to plant the idea of murder in Macbeth’s head, he shows that they are powerful and can achieve what they want through manipulation which he explains to be a women’s method, they are in control of the men and it shows that if it weren’t for social confinments that they would pursue their ambitions for themselves, is Macbeth really the one in control?” you question him back and he smiles

“You win” he laughs and pride is struck through you, there’s no feeling quite similar to winning a debate but there's sadness at the bottom of your gut as you remember and miss your brothers who you would debate with until frustrations would burst out of you all and it leads to punches being thrown around.

“Let me guess, you hate Romeo and Juliet” he expects you to say yes and you know it’s because he probably thinks their love for each other is shallow but you can’t say you do.

“I don’t actually, aside from the whole love at first sight, I somewhat relate to it” you tell him eyes staring at him but unfocused as you think back to how your own life was in comparison to Juliet’s, “the being forced into something you don’t want and dying for your freedom, in this case her freedom was Romeo but i don’t think he was the only reason she chose to flee, I’d like to think ran away for herself and to allow herself her own choices in life” and then silence as Jisung took in your words, a perspective he had never really thought about, the story was always solely based on romance but then again he had never been put in the position of being forced into something so life changing such as marriage. Jisung couldn’t begin to comprehend how it felt to be used so obviously for social gain and being stripped and deprived of anything else that would hinder that.

 Sensing stiffness in the air, you had to do something about it, you finally got Jisung to actually have a conversation with you. “Still Macbeth is the best” and again you manage to get a laugh out of him. The sound is so sweet that angels come down to listen to it, the heavens split open at the first bubble of laughter that leaves his mouth and your eyes light up as your body tingles with pride for causing it, you’re addicted to it and you're itching to hear it again. You need to hear it again.

The moment is cut off though with the entrance of Jaemin and Jisung’s eyes avert to his brother greeting him a good morning as quietly as he did to you and Jaemin sleepy replies in a yawn, rubbing his eye  before sitting down opposite you. “Morning y/n” he greets you and you smile before greeting him back, turning back to Jisung to hopefully start up the conversation again. “So what else are you reading?” you ask and your eyes light up as you scan over the many books on the table before you.

“Oh y/n, you know how to read!” Jaemin jumps up, it wasn’t expected for someone to be literate to the extent they could read Shakespeare or any higher educational scriptures, unless of a high class, let alone a women but your father taught you all he could and then you leached off your brothers who were lucky enough to be sent to school but Jaemin had already been aware of this “Yes my father taught me” you tell him and he nods rapidly.

“Yes I know, I just thought you’d like to know that there’s a library upstairs if you ever get bored and want to read something” he tells you and excitement bubbles up inside you and the instinct to run up there and have a look at their book collection is something far harder to conceal then it should be and Jaemin laughs at your eagerness. “Jisung could use someone like you, he’s always trying to get away from his studies” and you hear Jisung let out a nervous laugh as you turn towards him, completely offended.

“You have the privilege of being able to study and you want to run away from it” you gasp and it causes Jaemin to laugh again but this wasn’t a laughing matter, you were completely serious. You would die to be in his position and something about the way Jisung holds an apologetic look makes you think he knows you would.

“I guess you’ll just have to be with him to help him study” Jaemin offers a solution and your eyes light up at this, the excitement running through your veins. You all know exactly what that means, yes it’s babysitting Jisung to make sure he gets all his work done but it also means you get to study whatever he’s learning and expand your knowledge as far as you can. Jisung seemed hesitant at first but after seeing how you visibly lit up at the suggestion he couldn’t help but agree to take you along with him when he had to study.

After breakfast Jisung led you up to the library, it was a large room filled from ceiling to floor with books, the sight alone made you dizzy with excitement, as you stepped in the beloved smell of old books filled your senses and your hands instantly rushed to run along the spines of every book. Your eyes sparkled as you looked over each one and Jisung watched as fascination completely engulfed you, he couldn’t stop watching as you pick out a book, couldn’t take his eyes off you as your eyes skimmed the blurb, he was mesmerized by what he wasn’t too sure of. His eyes didn’t seem to be able to move on from your figure until you turned to face him, time stood still as he watched more and more of the bright smile that was held across your face be revealed to him, you were beautiful. Once met with yours, his eyes scrambled away as they always do and he was quick to turn around and seat himself at the desk that sat in the centre of the room.

You too situated yourself on one of the more comfortable chairs, opposite to Jisung, you watched him begin to write, his head slanted and both arms splayed out on the table, he was the height of beauty and grace, the gods carved him from marble, so ethereal Aphrodite herself was jealous of his perfection, Apollo envied his grace. Though you were here to study, read as many books time allowed you, your eyes were distracted and little did you know they were distracting Jisung as well. Your gaze causes his breath to halt, his hands to sweat and pink dust to decorate his skin. You were dazed, stuck in a trace of his beauty and had to do something to get out of it, you clenched your hand; nails digging into your palms, pressing hard to wake you. You forced your head to the side, eyes looking at the bookshelf once again but your actions caused Jisung to look up, you can feel his stare on you and a shiver is sent through your spine, too scared to look back at him, afraid you’ll be pulled back into his trance.

“You have a lot of German books” you say, hoping your nervousness isn’t obvious and just to be sure you get up and head towards the books. You feel him staring at every step you take and you just pray you're the only one that can hear the loud thumping of your heart against your ribcage as a colony of butterflies bloom in your stomach. Fingers tracing over the German writing on the spine of each book, you try to distract yourself from him and try to compose yourself once again but then his voice echoes through the room, deep and smooth it sends shivers rippling through you.

“My father was stationed in Germany” he tells you as his eyes finally move away from your figure, a sense of relief washes over you as he continues to write once again. Yet you're still too nervous to turn around, too nervous to look at him, he who is the epitome of beauty.

“Still?” you ask, filling in the silence as you pull out another book, examining the words on the front cover but you instantly regret it as Jisung’s eyes fall back onto you.

“After the war he was assigned a higher position in the Rhineland and then after they were dismissed he was asked to stay along the French borders'' he tells you and once again your curiosity gets the best of you and you ask him another question. If you remember correctly, it’s been 10 years since the dismissal of the troops in the Rhineland.

“So when was the last time you saw him?” and instantly you regret the words that leave your mouth, your curse yourself a million times over. Jisung’s silence is all too overwhelming and your chest grows tighter as guilt takes over your body and just as you’re about to apologise, he answers

“He visited last year” Jisung simply states but you can hear the strain in his voice, the pain he’s tried his best to cover yet it seeps through and your glad you can’t see him right now because you couldn’t bare to see the sparkle in his eyes fade slightly as you remember the passing of his mother, that most probably led to his father returning back home. Silence settles again and your frozen by the shelves, the air so heavy it feels as if weights were holding you down, your mind hazy as you space out and as the common pattern goes, Jisung wakes you out of the depths of your mind with a voice as smooth as honey, it provides a comfort that sends shivers down your spine.  “He’ll be back soon though, he’s officially been discharged for retirement” he tells you as if he can feel your stiffness and out of the corner of your eye you see he’s giving you a small comforting smile, just to make the air seem a little lighter.

Time seems to fly past as you both sit there, Jisung’s hands busy writing away as he refers back to scriptures and your eyes busy as you read up on German politics and the structure of the Weimar constitution, that revolutionised democracy, the sun was now high in the sky as noon approached. You didn’t even notice until Jisung let out a loud yawn, arms above his head as he stretched and let out mumbles of how you should stop for today or at least take a break. You only nodded in response as you stretched your own limbs out, you had ended up curled up in the chair with your legs tucked away as you leaned into what you were reading. Jisung couldn't help but smile as he looked up occasionally to see your eyebrows furrowed as you read and he can't help the soft laugh from escaping his lips now as he watches you stretch. "And what is it that you find so funny?" You question him, eyes narrowed but your lips are clearly fighting back a smile and the sight of it flusters Jisung, stammering over his words ``N-Nothing" he answers and you let out a small smile to let him know you were only kidding.

As you both leave the room, you can't help but follow Jisung "and what is it you do after you are done studying?" Your question startled him as he visibly flinched at the sound of your voice and he mentally tells himself to get used to your unquenchable curiosity. "Except for picking lavenders" you tease. He lets out a soft laugh, the same sound you've been itching to hear since this morning.

"Nothing much" he tells as he makes his way down the stairs. Following him down, he makes his way towards the drawing room, sitting himself down in an old velvet chair, you place yourself beside him in a matching one. Your eyes peering over towards his hands that pull at needle and thread and you’re astounded by the sight in front of you, a male who knows how to sew is as rare as diamonds, as impressive as gold. Jisung continuously stuns you, his nimble fingers work diligently as they pull the thread to make patterns across the once plain cloth.

He can feel the burn of your stare on his hands, his chest tightens and his nerves are lit on fire, he is hyper aware of every wander of your eyes. His mind clouded by the mere thought of you watching him, his mind so fixated on impressing you, for a reason he’s not sure of, he doesn’t pay much attention to the needle any longer; a mistake he realises once the sharp point collides with the soft skin of his index, drawing blood. He flinches back away from the sharp contact as you leap forward to cup his hand in both of yours. Pressing your thumb against his finger, applying pressure in hopes of stopping the seeping blood, you slightly blow upon it to relieve it of any pain but Jisung can’t feel any pain not when your overwhelming heat rolls of you and radiates on to his skin, with every touch sparks fly on top of his skin fizzling underneath and seeping into his bloodstream. A fluttering blooms in his stomach and Jisung has no idea what this feeling is, it’s new and exciting. He craves it as his eyes drift to your worried face and once your eyes meet his, the emotion is buried by the overwhelming nervousness he feels engulfing him, his cheeks flush and his breath is caught in his throat. He pulls away from you and quickly stands “I’ll” he pauses thinking what to say next “I’ll get a bandage” he spits the words out as soon as his mind comes up with the excuse.

“I’ll get it, sit down” you stand up and ready to head towards any one of the maids that could help you but your steps are interrupted by Jisung’s voice once again.

“No it’s fine, I’ll get it” he blurts out, hand stopping you as he places in front of you, your head moving back on reflex, and with that Jisung runs out the room; feet moving fast as his left hand tightly wraps around his right index.

You sit there for what felt like forever waiting for Jisung’s return but in reality it was no more than 10 minutes, you were never one to hold patience. So you rose to your feet, eager to find the tall boy that let awkwardness roll off of him. Heading to the direction you saw Jisung turn, you make your way to the familiar kitchen, many busy bodies work their way around preparing for dinner as the clock is nearing sun fall. Your eyes wander the familiar walls with the same pictures you stared at upon the first day of your arrival, until they stopped on the figure they seeked. There he stood by the wooden table that just about reached his waist. He poured flour into a bowl, followed by two eggs and your eyes watched his every moment again and as if he could sense you, his rose to meet you once again. You smile because it just comes so naturally when with him and he smiles back, how could he not?

Inviting yourself in, you step closer towards Jisung, “A cook too” you say, you’re impressed and it’s evident in your voice.

“It’s a basic necessity” he says yet there’s a pink coating that dusts his cheeks, you know he’s flattered by your words despite his own.

“Basic necessity?” you question as you sit down, legs crossed, on an empty wooden chair just by where he stands “I guess I should learn” you state nonchalantly, not expecting the reaction it would provoke from Jisung. His head snaps to turn to you, his eyes searching your face for any indication that you were only pulling his leg, that this was only a joke but those indications never showed because this wasn't a joke, you were serious.

“What? Does a girl have to know how to cook?” you question him in a scoff, an eyebrow raised as you question his thoughts that control his expressions.

“No they don’t but I can be surprised, I know you are surprised I can” he rebuttals, calling out your hypocrisy but to this you only smile, you were glad Jisung could stand his own ground, it wouldn’t be fun otherwise.

“More impressed than surprised” you state, earning a smile from Jisung once again, you pat yourself on the back each time you manage to pull out that sweet, healing smile that seems to wash all worries away.

“Who’s to say I’m not impressed” he questions you once again and continues to mix the batter, adding more ingredients, again you smile at his words and Jisung feels his heart flutter at every stretch of your lips. He craves to see it more.

“Can you teach me?” your question catches him off guard and his eyebrows leap up into the soft brown hair that covers his forehead, “what I’m not totally hopeless, I’ve read a book on it before” you pout. Laughter rings through the air as Jisung has doubled over, unable to hold in the snorts and his breathing unsteadies as your words register in his head and this only makes your pout more prominent and your eyebrows knit together.

“I’m sorry” Jisung laughs out as his eyes fall onto your expression but he can’t hold it in, a few bubbles of laughter spilling out as he tries to calm his breaths, his eyes glossy as tears threaten to fall and you try to fight back your own laughter as the corners of your lips slightly perk up. “Did you say you read a book on cooking” he can’t even get through the sentence without laughing but he’s quick to reign it back in to allow you to answer.

“Yes” you say proudly, head still held high and Jisung bites down on his lips as the splutters of laughter threaten to escape again. “It’s obviously not the same thing but I’ve read basic methods” you state in defence.

“You make it sound like science” he scoffs at your words and you roll your eyes at his.

“Is it not, the mixing of substances to achieve a product. It sounds like alchemy to me” you explain your thought process and Jisung nods in agreement. Though you can tell he has something to say.

“Alright then, let us say cooking is science” he begins and you raise your eyebrow in questioning as to where this is leading “reading a method for an experiment is not the same as doing the experiment, there are things that are not accounted for, practical errors, measuring errors. The method tells you what to do but not how to do it” and before he can even finish his sentence properly you jump up, startling him slightly as he flinches back.

“And that is where you come in to teach me, guide me through the experiment” you plead but it sounds like he doesn’t really have an option, you’re practically telling him. He sighs but he has to give, how could he not when you're giving him your sweetest smile and when your eyes are practically begging him.

“I’m surprised you want to learn” he questions you “I thought you’d avoid anything that would have been forced upon you” he explains as he hands you an apron.

Your smile extends ear to ear as you take the apron from his hands, tying in behind your back you explain your sudden want to learn “Yes but I’m choosing to learn, this isn’t about adding another quality of a wife to my resume. This about extending my knowledge and as you said it is a basic necessity.”

Jisung only nods at your answer as he hands you another bowl, some ingredients already placed inside “follow after me” he says as he cracks an egg and pours it’s insides into the bowl and then turning to you he see you struggle, knocking the egg against the table softly you try and mimic his actions “Did the book not mention eggs?” he laughs and so does Daphne who observes close by as you send him glares that wish him death.

“Like this” he says as he places his hands over yours, guiding you but your eyes aren’t focused on the egg in your hold, you’re focused on Jisung who’s so close, too close. You feel his breath on the side of your neck and goosebumps arise on the surface of your skin as shivers are sent down your spine. The scent of cotton, jasmine and of course lavenders invade your senses and blur your mind. You can’t help but stare at Jisung, perfection personified as he concentrates on explaining how to assure no shell falls into the batter. Yet the words enter one ear and exit the other as you watch his lips move, your eyes stuck and it’s only when his eyes move up to meet yours does he also realise the little space between the two of you. His hands still holding onto yours, his eyes move down. Slowly they trace the features of your face, the bridge of your nose, the dip of your cupid’s bow and then they stop at your lips. His breathing halts, his heart skips beats as it dances in his chest and when he feels unbearable heat take over him he forces himself away from you. Quickly flinching back, his warmth leaves you, he clears his throat and turns from your gaze that still stares, he continues showing you what to do and no more words are exchanged as the heaviness in the air sets in.

Many weeks go by where you and Jisung spend all your mornings in the library, which had now become your favourite spot in the house, you look forward to picking up a new book every morning, look forward to watching Jisung so focused on his work, telling him all about what you’ve learnt and occasionally sparking up a debate but you also find yourself staring out the window wishing for the sun to only raise itself higher and higher as you wish for midday to arrive, to run away with Jisung down into the kitchen where he continues to teach you how to cook, some days he would take you into town to pick out fresh ingredients or some days into the drawing room where he attempts to teach you how to sow. After a few failed attempts, your patience wearing thin and much blood being drawn from your fingers, you give up on sewing however cooking is a much greater achievement and the outcome was worth every bit of it. The smile on Jisung’s face every time he’d taste something he’d liked, every time you remember a part of a recipe and every time he would sit down at the dinner table and Jeno or Jaemin would compliment your cooking. He felt immense pride in you and it fostered a love for cooking within you.

Other days when the weather prohibited it, Jisung would take you out into the lavender field. You’d sit in between the rows and rows of purple, picking at the prettiest ones.The sun high in the sky, august warmth embracing you as the wind blew over the roaring fields, dancing between your hair. “Look I learnt this from a book” you sit beside Jisung, his head snaps up and his attention is on your fingers now as they twirl the thin stems in and around each other to form a knot. “Purity, silence, devotion and grace are what a lavender symbolise” you begin to tell him “and you Jisung” you place the intertwined lavenders behind his ear, he’s visibly flustered as his cheeks turn hues of pink and it only urges you on “are exactly that” you whisper to him as if the lavenders had ears and could hear your confession, for these words are for Jisung’s only.

Jisung’s eyes widened as each word that was revealed to him, his heart thumping in his chest and his mind set on fire as chaos engulfed him. His thoughts scrambled and instantly his mind went to countless different possibilities as to what those words meant but looking up at you his mind cleared for he only saw beauty. The beauty your eyes held, as they sparkled infinitely each time they skimmed over the countless words on a book, the beauty your smile held when someone complimented your new found cooking skills, the beauty in your voice each time you called on him as the new found nickname “sungie” which caused his heart to melt, the beauty you held in the way you carried yourself never letting anyone put you down. Jisung adored you in every way, embers in his chest that grew into a flame, which spreads through his entirety burning all. A blissful pain sits at the core of him, aching, he longs for you but do you long for him? Is he but a fool to fall in love with a stranger, the stranger in the lavender fields. Is he a fool for falling in love with you? Is this even love? His eyes fixated on your lips, he examines the curve of them, the colour, their beauty. As if they were magnets he’s drawn to them, slowly inching himself forward, so close he could feel the warm air that made it past them.

So close and yet so far is he to you, the sweet smell of lavenders is dizzying, the sunlight burns your skin but against Jisung’s it only illuminates his, he glows. The urge to place your lips on top of his, eats away at your skin, the want crawls under and down your spine, shivers resonate throughout your body as he nears. The world falls away, the slight buzzing of bees fade, the tickles of the grass dissipate and you only feel Jisung. His presence, the brush of his knee against yours and the warmth that radiates off him. Your heart stops, you stop breathing, anticipating what’s about to happen next until suddenly Jisung’s head snaps to the right and reality comes flooding in as you hear both your names ringing and ripping through the air. “Jisung! Y/N!” Daphne shouts and Jisung jumps up answering for both of you “We’re coming!” Left completely stunned you sit there, mind in chaos as your embarrassment engulfs you. Your eyebrows furrowed, you think to yourself how you could allow for yourself to fall into his spell. What were you thinking? That’s the problem, around Jisung you can’t think, everything happens on pure instinct and desire. Then as if you had rewinded time, a shadow is casted over you, a hand is placed in front of you to take and as he did on that first day, he snaps you out of your daze. “Are you feeling well?” he asks in that same soft voice. Your hand twitches to move towards him and it takes everything in your power to stop it from falling into his grasp once again.

“Fine” it comes out much colder than you expected it to as you rise up to your feet on your own, his hand is left hanging awkwardly to which he slowly closes before placing it behind his head as he bites his bottom lip and your eyes can’t help but fall on them again, they which were so close and yet so far. “Let’s go” and this time you lead him out of the lavender field.

The walk back to the house is silent, the same awkwardness that hadn’t made an appearance in so long settles in the air, it’s thick and heavy and you can feel it weigh you down. Upon arriving back to the house, a carriage awaits outside, a military emblem on the back and your heart drops, eyes widen and your steps stop. “It couldn’t be” you let out at barely a whisper.

But the slightest sound from you is enough to have Jisung’s head snap up towards you, for he’s been waiting for you to make a sound, any sound to rid this atmosphere. "What is it?" He asks also hushed, his eyes follow yours and there it leads to the carriage, a smile rips through his face and he runs ahead.  Confused you rush your steps but the anxiety building up in your chest stays, the lump in your throat is still hard to swallow.

“Y/N!” Jaemin calls you whilst waving his hand eagerly, calling you to come quickly and as you step closer the constraining feeling in your chest dissipates as the figure that steps out of the carriage is an unknown one to you. You stand by Jaemin’s side, who radiates excitement off him and you can’t help but smile as the little boy in the picture is standing right before you, the same eager stance and pretty smile that even the sun envies. The man exists and immediately pulls Jeno into an embrace so tight and you swear you see Jeno’s eyes sparkle as tears threaten to fall. Jisung is much less subtle at concealing his tears, he sobs into the man’s shoulder and it’s only then you presume this is their father. Jisung’s eyes are red and he sniffles as his father let’s go of him and your heart clenches at his adorableness. Jaemin is as happy as ever, hugging his father as tight as ever, eyes closed in pure bliss. You’re smiling like a fool as the heartwarming scene unfolds in front of you, so busy looking at the happy smiles and the stray few tears that are still running down Jisung’s cheeks you don’t notice the new acquaintance step in front of you until he clears his throat and you jump to meet his gaze.

“You must be Y/N” he smiles extending his hand and you place yours in it, shaking it. “I’ve heard a lot about you in all my son’s letters” your eyes widen and your turn to the three boy, Jaemin with that damn smirk on his face, Jisung avoiding your eyes and as always finding his shoes much more interesting, thank god for Jeno who offers a comforting smile assuring it’s all good things. “Sir you’ve raised three fine men, who have all welcomed me” you bow your head in thanks and he smiles once again.

“I couldn’t possible take any credit for it, it’s all thanks to their mother and Daphne of course” he turns from you to her and she pulls him into an embrace “Thank you for looking after them” he says barely audible but Daphne catches it and just as softly replies “but of course”. As everyone heads inside you wait until Jisung is by your side to start heading in as well, “Crybaby” you whisper with a teasing smile you nudge him with your elbow, he scoffs as he’s wiping his tear stained cheeks but he can’t help smile back at you.

Seated around the dining table, as always by Jaemin’s side and opposite Jisung, their father sits at the head of the table and more food than ever is being served tonight in celebration. You’re much more quiet tonight despite Jaemin continuously making sure you feel involved in the conversation, you’re eternally grateful for him. “So Y/N, why did you leave home?” their father asks so casually it almost goes unnoticed by the boys but Jisung almost chokes on his water, Jeno’s eyes widen and Jaemin almost immediately tries to shut down the conversation “Father” he gives him a pointed look, jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowed as he shakes his head.

“Jaemin, it's okay" you smile towards him, "freedom i suppose sir" you answer the question and Jisung's father squints his eyes, as he lets out a hum in acknowledgement of your answer. "Even after all your family has done for you?" He continues to question "you come from the family my late wife used to work under, am I correct?" And you simply nod "yes I do".

"The late General's daughter" he states "I wonder if he's turning in his grave at this moment" Jisung's grip on his silverware tightens and you notice his knuckles turn white and once again Jaemin's stare is begging his father to stop as Jeno looks over to see how affected you are by his cruel words. You don't falter though, you know what you've done can seem selfish but it was necessary "I'm sure he is" you laugh out "but he's always known I'm never one to listen" you continue to pick away at the food on your plate and you can feel all there gazes falls onto you, as you look up Jisung’s eye bore into yours as he mouths a soft “sorry” to you and you smile back at him shaking your head.

“I assume you’ve run from marriage” Jisung’s father starts up conversation again and you only nod as an answer “Are you against marriage?” he asks and it’s if he wants tears to fall from your eyes as he keeps pushing where he knows it’ll hurt. “Of course not but I would like to pursue a higher education or experience the world first” you explain, still keeping your calm.

“You think a woman is capable of doing such things?” he asks again and it’s this question that really makes your skin crawl and your jaw tighten. Questioning your methods of gaining freedom is one thing but looking down on all women and claiming them unable is one you can’t stand for. “I think we are very capable, I think the suffragettes have made that very clear and sir didn’t you work with the Weimar Government, they were the first government to allow women to vote I would think their initiative would have rubbed off on you” and he only smiles at your answer.

“I was stationed in Germany and worked under the Weimar Government up until their collapse, you’re correct” he begins to tell you “I have to tell you that I agree with your view, I’ve seen much that women are capable of doing” he says and your eyes widen at his words “I think what you did was brave and admirable, my three boys could learn from you, I hope you can lend Jisung some of your courage” he smiles at you and your jaw still hangs as does everyone else's around the table and as you look up to find pink hues invading Jisung’s cheeks once again, if you didn’t know any better you would have thought it were always like that regardless. You nod at their father before answering back “I think I’m the one who’s learning a lot form Jisung sir” and the shades of pink darken

The atmosphere had lightened again somewhat although the topic on war was not a light one at all, as their father expressed his worry about sending his three sons off to war and how in ruins the country would be again, worry sat in your chest. Jeno and Jaemin are strong all physically, emotionally and mentally but Jisung is the sweet boy who wouldn’t hurt a bee. “What do you think of the current situation of our country Y/N'' Jeno taking you out of your thoughts, you head snaps up to him “I think the war is unavoidable despite our economic stance, Germany has already invaded Czechoslovakia and it’s only time before they invade Poland meaning our involvement in the war is definite whether we want it or not'' the table falls silent as they process your words and it’s not until Jisung’s father begins to nod and expand on your thoughts but you zone out as you watch Jisung fiddle with the knotted lavenders you had gifted him and your lips can’t help but curve.

The next morning a book awaited you on your vanity, a scarlet red cover with gold print, you ran your fingers along. “Sonnets'' it read and as you flicked open to the first page, familiar handwriting appeared “A collection of my favourite - Jisung” a smile spread across your face as it usually did when your thoughts ran to Jisung. You sat down flicking to the first poem “Sonnet 18” a giggle escaped your mouth and like a schoolgirl already aware of the beauty Shakespear's arguably most famous sonnet holds, the giddy feeling of butterflies blooming caused your heartbeat to quicken and a heat to rise.

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:

Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And too often is his gold complexion dimm’d:

Annotations surround the poem as Jisung highlights and picks out certain lines. The second line is underlined and next to it he writes “Though you are lovely, temperate is definitely up for debate” he teases and you scoff at his words. You read on and lines four and five are underlined and his annotation reads “The eye of heaven is you who shines gloriously throughout the day and yet too often you allow yourself to dim. Don’t.”

And every fair from fair sometimes declines,

By chance or natures changing course untrimm’d;

By thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;

“You are my eternal summer, your beauty is one that isn’t possible to vanish, it’s infinite unlike summer which collapses in winter” you read on as lines nine and ten are underlined.

Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou growest:

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

The the final annotation as the last three lines are highlighted, Jisung says “Your beauty shall remain eternal so long as my heart beats, so long as i live and breathe, so long as my eyes can see your beauty, I only seem to think of you now as i read this poem and in this poem the memory of you shall live on” you heart beats erratically in your chest, you’re breathless as his words halt your breathing. Forgetting such simple acts as thinking and even breathing seem to be a regular side effect in the presence of Jisung, just the mere thought of him. Your palms grow sweaty, your heart clenches reading over the words again and again, you pinch yourself. For this moment, seems like nothing but a dream, your heads in the cloud, you're living in the heavens. The feeling is suffocating, your own throat is closing in on you, the pain in your chest spreads like wildfire, your whole body aches with admiration for him. Yet the constant question looms over your head, what does he really mean by this? Is his feeling the same as yours? Or is he portraying the beautiful friendship you both have built over the weeks? One thing is sure and it’s that you can’t ruin that, can’t let the heavy air seep in once again and weigh you down.

The days folded out as normal, Jisung’s presence still as overwhelming as ever but you couldn’t help but find serenity in it, he was soft spoken yet his silence speaks the loudest for him, his grace and beauty as  were one to be envied by all but you were nothing more than grateful for being able to witness it day after day, it were as if he had walked out of your dreams. The stolen glances, lingering stares as he smiled or laughed, he stole your heart and he wasn’t even aware it was his anyways. Sitting opposite him, you stare not caring if he or anyone catches you for your far past the point of holding any shame and allowing your eyes to do as they please.

"I have something to announce" Jeno suddenly speaks up, breaking the silence, all eyes turn to him and he audibly gulps. You’ve never seen him so nervous, fiddling with his silverware you almost mistook him for Jisung. He clears his voice before speaking, taking in a deep breath he prepares himself for the words that are about to leave him, “I am to marry” he says quickly waiting for a response, an outroar, a gasp and maybe a few tears but none of them come.

“About time don’t you think” Jaemin laughs out causing the rest of the table to release small giggles at Jeno’s expense, “You have been all giddy and heart eyes at that girl in the village since we were all but five- OW" Jaemin's face twists in pain, hands rushing to his shin as he's cut off by a harsh kick. Jisung and you burst into laughter not being able to hold it in any longer.

"And what are you two laughing at" Jeno punches at Jisung’s shoulder, immediately causing him to halt his laughter as he rubs his shoulder “Well brother, it’s not like it is a secret. Even Y/N knows” and you giggle again as Jisung enlightens Jeno on his obvious swooning.

“What?” Jeno’s eyes widen as he turns to you and you can’t help but laugh even more. “We visited the village and your eyes were stuck, Jeno you walked straight into Jisung” you burst out laughing as you recall the memory. Once the laughter, the teasing, the amount of huffs that leave Jeno quiet down your left with comfort, a bliss that you’ve never felt before, a smile that just won’t leave your face. It’s a beautiful feeling and you wish to memorise it for if numbness overtakes your body, you can relive this exact moment of the solace you found in those around this table.

“Is that three out of the four of us in love?” Jaemin smirks as he lifts his glass to his lips, looking around the table, Jeno scoffs at his words but confusion is written all over you and Jisung. Did Jaemin know that your heart only seems to beat for Jisung? How did he know? Who was the other person? Was it Jaemin or Jisung? If Jisung, who did he love? The questions ran through your mind in circles and it only spewed more questions to follow, your head was spinning stuck in the spiral of curiosity, but curiosity always killed the cat.

But cats have 8 other lives right? That is what you had decided later that night, sat beside Jisung on the stone wall, letting curiosity take over you - slightly. Your legs dangled, swinging them back and forth, whilst Jisung’s gaze was set on the crashing waves of purple as the moon pulled them back and forth; yours were stuck on him. The moonlight illuminated, captured his beauty in a way the sun couldn’t, it seemed the goddess of the moon saw greater beauty in Jisung than Apollo could ever begin to understand.

“I could not fail to realise that sonnet 23 was not amongst your favourite” your eyes darting out towards the fields as his turn to you, “It’s one of my favourites” you tell him.

“I’m sorry to disappoint but do you not think it’s a bit cliche” he laughs and your eyebrows shoot up in slight disbelief “and sonnet 18 is not” you scoff, finally meeting his eyes.

“Sonnet 18 is beautiful” he argues and he swings into you, nudging you slightly, rolling your eyes you nudge him back “Sonnet 23 is just as or dare I say more” and he smiles slightly, eyes turning back to the night sky, the clouds running over the moon and Jisung is left amongst the stars. “How so?” he dares to question.

“It is, for one, far more romantic” you begin “the thought of one loving you with so much passion, so unconditionally that it can not even be professed by words yet the love they feel is so strong they need an escape, to tell that person what they can not truly express fully, to let them show you how much they love you. To hear with eyes as Shakespear so beautifully put it” you nudge him again and he looks down at you, a smile as radiant as the sun,moon and stars combined graces you and again Jisung has stolen your heart in complete silence

“Yet what I love about Sonnet 18 is that it is not too romantic, that the love that Shakespear professes can be for a lover or a friend, he speaks of all the imperfections of summer yet still he loves it, he describes the person he loves as someone who defies all the imperfections for in his eyes they are perfect imperfections when it comes to them” he nudges you back with a slight giggle but you can’t return his happiness for you have been stung as his words seep into your mind.

“Oh for a friend” you whisper, he hears your words but not the sadness behind them as he continues with that bright smile “and that is why it was so perfect to give to you” his words are daggers to the heart, piercing through, it shatters and the fine pieces scatter throughout you and the sadness seeps through every fibre, cell and atom of your body.

“Are you feeling well?”he asks and worry sweeps the smile off his face as he finds the glossiness of your eyes, the slight redness as well as the unusual silence from you. “Fine” you answer jumping off the stone wall, “Just tired” you say looking out to the goddess of the moon one last time, unable to turn and look at the art she admired most. “Goodnight Jisung” you say as you turn back to the house, not sparing him a glance for he stole your heart and then broke it. 

Though that night your tears mixed with moonlight until Morpheus took you to dream and then the next morning tears mixed with sunlight as Apollo pulled his golden chariot, with swollen eyes and a throbbing head you promised this wouldn’t affect the beautiful friendship that had bloomed. Jisung may not love you the way you would like but he still loved you, as a friend. The mere thought of the word stung, another aching rippled through you and your bones quacked.

Many dusks and dawns had passed and since,you’ve managed to create some distance between you and Jisung but as once said distance makes the heart grow fonder and you curse whoever uttered such truth. For every stolen glance and accidental touch seemed to make your dormant heart beat with every intent of being heard as it rose to your throat, suffocating you.

Jeno’s upcoming wedding being the greatest of all excuses to run away from the burning presence of Jisung, for you would flee to the village with Daphne and pick out materials, help Jeno’s fiance pick flowers, handwrite invitations with Jeno and accompany Jaemin on whatever errands he had been sent to do. No one questioned how you decided to spend your time, other than of course Jaemin who couldn’t help but let his curiosity lead the words that spewed out of him, to which you told him he’d regret someday.

“Just tell me Y/N” he groans as he carries the large basket of apples “Why spend your time with me instead of Jisung” he continues to pursue the answers you deny him of.

“Maybe because, and I dare to say, I like your company more” you pinch his cheek and laugh at the pout that forms on his face “What answer are you looking for Jaems, what would you have me say?”

“I want you to say you are helplessly in love with my brother who is just as in love with you however both of you are too busy quoting literature that is up for interpretation rather than professing your feelings because you lack the courage to do so” you freeze at his words and he also comes to a halt, turning towards you his eyes, sympathetic “you both are as obvious as Jeno” he lets out a small laugh.

“He does not love me Jaemin” your voice stern as you try to convince one who believes in fairytales, your steps quicken and he chases after you “and how exactly do you know?” he questions, curiosity endless.

“He said so, he said he gifted me Sonnet 18 as a friend.” You scoff at the absurd word that causes so much pain and you say it with spite everytime.

“Like I said he lacks courage and as my father said you, Y/N, can help him gain it” he tells you, eyes wide with hope and you admire Jaemin for being a hopeless romantic and you only hope he meets someone who completely fulfills his ideology of love.

“I don’t think I possess such courage anymore” you break it to him for Jisung has broken your heart once, how can you have the courage to allow him the chance to do it again.

Jeno’s wedding arrived much sooner than expected, as the weeks rushed past in much haste as the many busy bodies prepared for the beautiful evening and as hard as you tried to separate yourself from Jisung, the universe liked to disrupt those plans. To the place it all started, so close yet so far apart, you stood rows away from Jisung picking only the prettiest lavenders as per Jeno’s request. The air was thick and heavy despite the August breeze that ran through the fields, an unfamiliar heaviness sat between you two for even as strangers you were far more comfortable. Maybe it’s due to the curiosity you held back then, for the boy in the lavender field, beauty that wasn’t done justice by the word but now that you know him, adore him and are in love with him and now that your heart belongs to him but his not to yours. There’s a void left for the seeping awkwardness to fill, an uneasiness sat in your gut and every moment was excruciating to bare as your heart pains at every beat that belongs to him who does not seem to care.

“Lavenders wouldn’t be my first pick for a wedding” he speaks up first, the silence with you was something he wasn’t used to, you always made sure to replace it with continuous talking and contagious laughter and now that you weren’t, it didn’t feel right to him but you only nod in response not entertaining his thoughts any further. Jisung preferred silence, his thoughts more coherent, his emotions understandable, the silence was comfortable and not overwhelming but with you he couldn’t stand it, mind always wondering what you were thinking, what you were feeling, he needed to know. 

So he carries on speaking, “If it were up to me, Irises and carnations” he expects an interrogation, your endless curiosity asking why that would be his pick but it never comes. So he continues speaking, giving you the answer you didn’t ask for “Irises mean faith, fitting for a lifelong vow” he laughs as he looks over to you stoic expression, cutting off his soft laughter he again begins to speak “and carnation, white ones that symbolise-”

“Eternal love” you cut him off, turning to him, finally speaking yet your tone is monotonous and there is no emotion evident on your face. There’s slight fear in him and it rises, a lump forming in his throat that he can’t quite seem to swallow “Exactly” he choked out, voice strained.

You let out a breath that seemed to be weighing you down, you couldn’t let him continue talking about the meaning behind the flowers, your heart couldn’t take it for aching stops momentarily and instead it flutters and swoons across your chest but then reality hit and it shatters all over again, the pain shooting through your bloodstream.

“Are you feeling well?” he asks as he always does and you answer “Fine” as you always do, even though you both know it’s a lie but he doesn’t push any further as always. The longing feeling for you to look at him and spill all your worries and feelings to him is so great but he doesn’t want to push you to nor does he expect you to trust him with that vulnerability when he himself does not have the courage to do the same back to you.

“I’m going to leave after Jeno’s wedding” you announce working up the little courage you have left, if you say it out loud then you’ll have to follow through. “Thank you for everything” you brace yourself to meet his eyes once more as you turn. “What? Why?” concern so evident in the way his voice wavers, eye glossed over as tears threaten to fall.

“I left to seek my own happiness in life, to make a mark on this Earth yet instead I ran from relying on my family to relying on you and yours” again your voice is completely void of emotions, yet every part of your body was screaming. Longing for the warmth, solace and peace you had found here and it’s at this point you curse yourself for memorising that bliss for all you will do is miss it.

“Did you not feel happiness here?” he screams out, harsher than he expected as he voice comes out rough and broken and you stand there eyes wide for this was the first time the pure,silent and serene boy that stands in the lavender fields has allowed so much emotion to course through his body and you can tell by the way he shakes, the way he struggles to breath and the shock that immediately washed over him upon hearing his own voice raised “I’m sorry” he mumbles in a heavy exhale.

“Thank you for everything Jisung” you offer him a smile as you leave, avoiding his question, leaving him standing alone in the lavender fields.

Leaving the basket of lavenders with Jeno, you rush up the stairs and only when behind the safety of your door do you allow the tears to come streaming down your face, sobs escaping and you hold your mouth to conceal them as you take deep shaky breaths to steady your breathing. Your whole body aches and shakes as it mours the end of your stay, the tears cloud your vision and as you lay down to ease the heartbeat in your head, you cry yourself into a slumber. Even as the dreams swirl around you, pulling you into the unconscious, reality never truly slips away, it haunts you as even in the world you build you can’t stray away from it. The ability to dream of anything further isn’t a possibility, he doesn’t love you and that’s the reality. Why bother dreaming of something that isn’t meant to be. Yet you can’t help but dream of him. His eyes, his smile, his warmth, the pink dust that always decorates his cheeks, his laugh and his existence.

In your days you are held hostage by the daydreams, the what ifs. It felt like you had loved him in every lifetime, you wonder if any had got it right? Had any been loved by him? Your body lies stiff, falling in and out of consciousness but your mind never leaves him. Days go by but time becomes nothing but a construct, eating only becomes a chore.

“Y/N?” a soft voice calls as the door narrows open, a steady stream of gold shining in. You don't move, your head feeling like it's weighed down but you can easily identify the soft voice that speaks. "I brought you something to eat" the footsteps near you, the heavy thuds vibrating through your head. Your eyes peek open to meet Jaemin who crouches down beside you. He moves the few stray strands of hair behind your ear, noticing the wet glimmer of your cheeks he wipes away the tears that stain them.

"What's wrong?" He whispers as if any harsher tone would break you, as if you weren't already broken. You shake your head as your only reply, voice too weak and broken to speak up. You would love to talk to Jaemin, to spill all your worries and heartache but this is a pain too painful to speak of. His hands hold onto your cheeks wiping away any of the stray tears that still fall. His warmth is comforting but it only makes you yearn for Jisung’s more.

Jaemin doesn't leave you that day, he sits by your side in silence. He holds your hand and wipes away your tears, he doesn't attempt to mend your heart, he just sits beside you as it cries out the pain. "It will heal, it will mend itself" he whispers to you as you drift off into the unconscious once again.

It’s the constant knocking at your door that drags you out of the depths of your slumber, pulling you back, the light that streams in as the sun is about to set and you wonder how long you have slept, what time it was and what day it is. Then another knock calls your attention from the window and Daphne steps in “Y/N” she says and her voice is high in surprise as she examines the puffy redness around your eyes. “I was expecting you to be already awake, it is almost time to head to the wedding” she chooses to ignore the wet stains on your silk pillow, choosing to bite her tongue. You choose not to answer her back afraid your voice was raspy and would break, you crawl towards the edge of the bed and swing your legs over as you make your way to the chair that neatly holds your gown for the night, the night that has finally arrived,your last night.

You can see her face change, each one expressing the internal turmoil within her as she questions whether or not to say something. “Just say it Daphne '' you sigh out in a weak smile as you change into the many layers that need to be placed under the gown.

“Ah well” she begins nervously as she fiddles with her loose strings of her apron, she stutters and stumbles over her words but you’ve been taught patience by Jisung as he’d do the same.You smile at the memory of him stuttering, blush across his cheeks as he got nervous causing him to stumble over his words more. You loved seeing him so flustered, loved seeing him progressively become so comfortable around you he never stuttered, became so confident and articulate it was as if he became another person but the same dust of pink never faded but the more you think of him the more it pains and your heart swells as it aches. “You see y/n” she finally spits out as if she had been wrestling the words “If this is your last night, would you not want to leave with a loving memory?” she asks nervously. 

“So it seems word has travelled” you let out a small laugh as you turn to her to pull the strings of your gown and as her hands move to tie knots she laughs as well “Nothing gets past me” and her nervousness visibly dissipates. No more words are exchanged as she helps you ready for tonight, no more words are needed as she sees you slip into the depths of your mind, thinking of what your next act is.

As she places the same pearl necklace you wore the day you came here around your neck, clasping it, she finally turns to leave and through the mirror you see her hesitate but she turns back around a smile across her face “It was a pleasure to meet you ma’am” she says with teary eyes “Y/N” you correct her as you rise quickly, wrapping your arms tightly around her and from the corner of your eye you see Jisung standing at the end of the hallway, witnessing the goodbye he run back down stairs. You saw the glossiness of his eyes and though you would love to leave as a happy memory, would he allow it?

You nervously make your way to the drawing room, there he sits in a black suit, his hair neatly styled yet it looks not much different to everyday. He should not look this good but he does because he is the epitome of beauty. He is beauty personified. You let out a deep breath before you step into his line of view, preparing yourself for whatever is to come next. “Jisung” you call softly but he refuses to look up at you, you can hear him sniffle and his breathing is heavy and you almost could trick yourself into believing he loved you the way you loved him. You sit beside him and take his hand in yours, rubbing small soothing circles by the knuckle of his thumb you attempt to speak, “I am leaving” you choke out,the words are stuck in your throat and he rips his hands away from yours, turning completely with his back towards you. You sigh once again, “Let’s me leave with good memory” you beg, voice small and shaky. This was not the y/n Jisung first met, not the y/n he knows now and definitely not the y/n he fell in love with for you were never one to speak so quietly, yet here you are broken. So he puts away his own selfishness to feel sadness, anger or whatever pulsing emotion that runs course throughout his body.

He turns back to you, eyes glossy and a pout on his lips as he raises a long string of black silk. “I cannot tie it” his voice breaks slightly and you can’t help but smile at his cuteness. You take the silk from his hand and wrap it against his neck, slowly weaving it in and out of itself, you form a knot. “Learn this from a book?” he teases and you can’t help but scoff and roll your eyes. Falling back to where you were with Jisung was never hard, falling in love with him all over again was never hard. “my father taught me” you say as you pull the silk slightly causing his head to jolt forward. A smile perks at his lips as he lets out air from his nose as a form of laughter and you don't realise the lack of space between you two until you feel it brush against your skin and you near closer, eyes drawn to his lips. Your breathing stops and your heart sporadically jumps around in your chest, beating louder than ever.

Jisung’s eyes are closed as he waits for your lips to be placed upon his but they never come and his eyes jump open at the sound of Jaemin’s voice, your warmth escaping him. So close and yet so far, his eyes land on you who’s now moved as far as possible from him. “Y/N, do you know how to tie a tie?” he walks in looking down at the balck silk he holds around his neck but he cuts himself off as his eyes rise to find you and Jisung awkwardly sitting beside each other. “Oh am I interrupting?” he asks in a chuckle as he raises an eyebrow and you shoot up onto your feet, making your way towards him “No not at all” you wave your arms as if it would convince Jaemin. You grab onto both ends of the silk strand, repeating the same movements as earlier and looking down at the silk you can practically feel Jaemin’s smile that beams from above. You weave the string in and out of itself and pull tight around his neck causing Jaemin’s head to pull back “OW '' he huffs out in a pout, you pat down his tie and with a smile as gleaming as his was a mere moments ago, you apologise. 

“Oh y/n you know how to tie a tie, thank god” Jeno rushes in with his father soon after him both holding the same black silk around their neck “Does nobody in this house know how to tie a tie” you laugh in disbelief. “Our mother used to do them,” Jeno whispers as your hands make their way up to form the same knot you’ve made twice already. He thanks you silently with a sweet smile, those crescent moons you adore showing up.You move on to their father, tying his tie neatly and much more carefully than the rest. “Thank you for everything, y/n” he bows his head to you and you whisper “It’s nothing” shyly. “It’s been a pleasure having you become a part of our family” he continues and his words are like a stake to your heart, the same aching reappearing as nothing fails to remind you of your departure.

“Thank you for welcoming me bu-t'' you're cut off instantly 

“no buts y/n, you are family” Jeno interrupts and if it was anyone else you don’t think those words would have held such meaning for Jeno is a silent lover, showing his affection through sweet smiles, concerned looks and kind gestures; he was never one for words of affirmation. So you smile, ignoring the tears that prick at your eyes, ignoring the deep breaths that leave Jisung and the solemn sadness on Jaemin’s face.

“We need to go” Jaemin looks down at his pocket watch, as always sensing the tension in the room and ready to dissipate it, he urges everyone out the door and as you’re about to step out, a warmth engulfs you as Jisung catches your hand in his. Turning back you are met with a smile but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes that hold a sense of sadness as they glimmer in the setting sun.

Hours after the sun had sunk into the horizon, the moon well into its reign, music rang through the center of town as everyone gathered to celebrate the new chapter of Jeno’s life. A ceremony so beautiful, you were sure you witnessed true love when Jeno’s eyes set on his bride that walked the altar.

After all the tears, it was finally time for the bubbling of champagne to intoxicate your bloodstream and to allow the music to take control of every swayed movement of your body. Standing under the yellow dimmed lights, Jisung glew a gold you didn’t know existed but easily was the prettiest you had ever seen. His cheekbones high and lips painted pink, golden flute in hand and silk tie loosened you could easily say he was the prettiest here, outshining all. For Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty lived through him, simple acts such as greeting guests left you stunned. Eyes chasing every movement of his, from the way his hands moved as he spoke, to the way he smiled once seeing an old friend, the way he laughed softly in conversation and when his eyes travelled back to you when he thought you weren't looking.

And to pull you out of that trance was none other than Jaemin, “Would you and Jisung stop exchanging lover eyes and dance already” he whispers as he places himself beside you, you scoff at his words and slightly nudge him with your elbow.

“Are you so bored that your eyes follow mine?” you question and his simple and instant “Yes” make your eyes roll as far as possible but you can’t help but smile. “When will you find your own love story? This is one hopeless”

“So when were you planning to tell me you were leaving after tonight” his words don’t come as a surprise, nothing goes past Jaemin but it still doesn’t fail to make your every movement halt as guilt overtakes you, turning to him you begin to explain “I was going to tell you as soon as the night was over, it was unexpected I promise” you say softly.

“I don’t suppose i can change your mind in any way?” he asks hopefully, still with the knowledge he wouldn’t be able to. You shake your head slowly, unable to say the words that will so obviously ruin the both of you but Jaemin is never one to sit in sadness, always being his priority to make you feel better. 

“Would you allow me this first dance?” he bows down asking for your hand and with that you place yours in his, placing a soft kiss to the knuckles he pulls you into the center of the floor. Legs moving to the beat, Jaemin’s hand on your waist he guides you through the waltz, breaths heaving and smiles plastered on your face he bends down once more to place a kiss on your knuckles as the music dies down declaring the end of the dance, a sad smile spreads across his face and he whispers “Goodbye” against your skin, looking up to meet your eyes who hold nothing but despair. Yet the hardest is to come when you turn and automatically your eyes find Jisungs, who just happened to be looking your way.

You offer him a smile before heading towards him “And why are you not dancing, I’m sure plenty of girls are just about dying to be your first dance” you tease him and he laughs along with you, hands rising they scratch the back of his neck as he prepares to confess to you “I actually do not know how to dance” he spits out fast hoping you don't catch his words but you do. Eyes widening and mouth agape, you let out a gasp 

“Jisung you do not know how to-” you're cut off by his hand on your mouth as he looks around to see if anyone has heard the sentence about to leave you. 

“Quietly, I think the whole of London can hear you” he says in a whisper still looking around. Removing his hand, you roll your eyes at his antics.

“Let me teach you” you whisper back and he turns to you, eyebrow raised as he assesses how good of a dancer you could be.

“I am not entirely sure, who did you learn from? A book?” he teases, still completely in character until you shove him and his laughter comes spilling out “You used the joke once already” you roll your eyes 

“I was taught by trainers actually, do you forget I was to be wed” you scoff at his assumption and rise to your feet, hand extended for Jisung to take. He stares at you, watches the way the light bounces off your skin causing you to glow, your eyes glimmer, smile bright and the confidence and charm you carry in inexplicably attractive as you stand under the moon, offering to be Jisung’s first dance and it’s here he decides you’ll be his last.

The moment his hand is in yours, you drag him straight to the crowd, the music is quick to start and you waste no time in giving out instructions. “Place your hand on my waist” you order

“Your what?” Jisung’s eyes are wide as he cluelessly asks

“My waist” you repeat again, emphasizing each word and you drag his hand up and place it on your waist for yourself. Then putting your own hand on his shoulder, you pull him a little closer. “Just follow my lead” you reassure him as you witness the petrified look on his face.

“Left foot forward” you say to him as you move yours back, “Right foot forward, feet together” you continue to guide him through the dance as you spin around the room, ‘Now left foot back, right foot back, now feet together” you repeat the sequined dance around the room, music thumping through your body and you convince yourself it’s that you feel and not the heavy beats of your heart as the space between you and Jisung seems to close more and more. As he leans in so close you can feel the air that leaves him, fanning over you. You look up and his eyes are set on you, only adoration is held in them and Jisung thinks it’s now or never as he tries to fully close the gap between you two, to place his lips on yours but then you let go, head turning to the right “Now we switch you” you say as you land into another man's arms, repeating the same steps you did with Jisung moments ago with another. So close and yet so far is all Jisung can think whilst his eyes watch you twirl about the room.

Once finally back in his arms, the music seizes and he’s forced to remove himself from you. You can’t help but smile at him as he looks down at you, breathing heavily with a flush of pink to his cheeks yet he seems to be gleaming in the buzzing sensation of a waltz. The air is heavy with sweat and alcohol, the room is filled with chatter and loud laughs but that all falls away once you look at Jisung. So you dance to every song as if you were the only two people to exist, for this was your last night and this was your last dance.

Endless glasses of champagne later your dancing feet carry you outside, the cool summer nights air washes over you, clearing your mind of the foggy mist of alcohol yet the coolness of the moonlight is overwhelmed by the warmth of Jisung’s presence as he stumbles next to you, tripping over his own legs he lands in your arms. “I think you drank a little too much” you laugh down at him.

“No I am perfectly fine” He quickly stabilizes himself, straightening out his clothes and you can only smile as he shakes off your support. “If you say so” you turn to the night sky, looking up to the moon who you haven't had the courage to face since. The wind rushing past you, crickets croaking and the stars blazing across the sky, your legs about to give way as the alcohol circulates your body, you find purchase on a stone bridge, Jisung following soon after you. The water trickles down under you, the calming sound washes over you and the solace you so missed seems to make an appearance once again as you allow yourself to surrender to Jisung’s presence. Silence sits between the two of you but it’s not the one you wish to fill, insead you choose to let it engulf you not wanting words to taint this moment. Your last moment.

Jisung however doesn’t think he can hold it in anymore, the liquid courage is just about enough for him to declare his roaring love for you, a flame that won’t go out no matter how far he pushes the idea of you away. He wasn’t sure if this was love but the ache in his chest all these days proved it could be nothing but love. The longing to be by your side as you found happiness, found your own way into this world and to watch you become who you want, is unbearably strong. This is his only chance before the goddess of the moon takes you away with her, for when the sun rises, you'll set into nothing but a memory. So here Jisung turns to you, staring at your beautifully carved features, moonlight highlighting every perfection; deep breaths he calms his nerves. Adrenaline rushing through every nerve, he finally builds the courage and out the words he never knew would feel so good to pronounce “Y/N I love you” it comes out in a whisper but by the way your eyes widen, breathing halts, Jisung knows you’ve heard.

“Jisung you are drunk” you laugh off

“Drunk lies are sober truths” he says in all seriousness, his eyes are begging for yours to turn to him and so you give in to their silent cry. “I’ve loved you from the moment I met you, for I thought soulmates were nothing but a fairytale until mine spoke to me upon laying eyes on you. I denied my feelings towards you, for I didn’t know if it was love I felt for you or not but I do. Love, adoration, affection and warmth. The moon only looks beautiful with you under it, the sun only shines with you beside me.” he professes and the sincerity in his voice strucks you, for every fiber of your being longs for these exact words but can you believe him?

He inches closer, his scent and warmth trapping you in a trance and you can’t find it in yourself to back away as he moves towards your lips, his breath mixing with your own, the flush off his cheeks that are illuminated by the moonlight. Everything is perfect except he’s drunk. Though your heart screams for you to close the gap, place your lips on his and kiss him until he’s breathless, your head scream the opposite, move back, wait till the morning when his head is in the right place, don’t allow him to make a mistake that’ll hurt you and when were you ever one to not listen to your mind. “You are drunk”  you whisper to him, so close he can almost feel your lips move against his, flinching back, ignoring the cry of your heart that desires nothing more than to feel Jisung’s confession. Jisung’s eyes open to find you pulled away, for once again he was so close yet so far.

“We should return” you jump up, step fastening back to the crowds of people who were still dancing and laughing. Jisung’s hurried footsteps rush beside you, his hand holding onto your wrist, he pulls you into him. Arms wrapping around you so tight, he’s afraid you’ll pull away and that he’ll lose you. You already pulled away from him once, you’re not sure you have the power in you to do it a second; so you let him hold you. His face hidden into the crook of your neck, he speaks into your skin 

“Love for you fades the exhausting hours till Kingdom come, for even then my soul only speaks of you, my heart only beats for you. Let me love and let me give, for both are infinite” he confesses once again.

Your arms instantly wrap around his figure, you allow your love to course through your body to his, you hope he can feel your heartbeat, the steady pace that keeps you alive for his existence, and him only. For without him what was the purpose of living? You stand there under the moonlight, red strings wrapped around you, Eros’s arrow shot through you, and hold onto each other.

Walking back, hand in hand, smiling like fools. The air smells sweeter, the world seems brighter as your heart skips a beat every now and then “In all honesty” Jisung breaks the blissful silence, his voice deep and smooth and it sends shivers down and through you just as it did the first day. Once your eyes are on him, giving him your undivided attention he continues “I lacked the courage to gift you Sonnet 23 but I wanted to” he tells you “Promise” he makes sure you believe his words and you can’t help but smile.

“You still lack courage, this is the alcohol’s courage” you tease him, swinging your arms back and forth as you walk on. He giggles at your comment because he knows it’s true, if it wasn’t for the liquid courage he doesn’t think he would have been able to confess to you but he’s glad he has because if he hadn’t, would he ever get the chance to?

“So will you stay?” he asks, voice hopeful and eyes pleading as he pouts, in hope it would convince you but you didn’t need anymore convincing, for if you want to follow happiness and happiness just so happens to follow Jisung, who were you to seek for more elsewhere. “Perhaps” a smirk makes it way up your lips as you give him vague answers. “I will take that as a yes” he laughs out, holding onto your hand a little bit tighter, to ensure you really weren’t going anywhere.

Love is a complex feeling, one that causes an unbearable amount of pain; as if your chest had been slit open, heart pulled out and crushed. An aching pain resonates throughout your whole body, endless tears and you don’t think you can live to see another sunrise yet it’s euphoric in every way. From the tingling sensation at just the sight of your love, the shivers, the heat that takes over, the trance you left in as their words hypnotise you, the warmth of their presence and sweet scent. In Jisung you found peace,solace,serenity and love.

“Jaemin” Jisung calls out as he can just about make him out in the distance “Y/N said she has decided to stay” he shouts out like a child, excited he’s jumping up and down and you find yourself smiling and laughing again, for with Jisung it’s the only thing you seem to be able to do. Yet as you draw closer to Jaemin and the guests he happens to be wishing a farewell too, your smile and heart both drop.

“Y/N” one of the two men calls out as your figure becomes more apparent to them, disbelief held in their voice as they call out to you. Jisung and Jaemin eyebrows shot up in shock, eyes widening as they wonder how you are acquainted.

“How do you know our y/n?” Jaemin asks, always being the first one to dissolve the awkward silences, the men are taken aback clearly by the way their jaws hang slightly.

“She is our sister” the taller stutters out, your blood rushes cold as the words leave his lips, what would happen now? Would they allow you to just roam free? You thought for a second before you mentally scolded yourself, they would never allow that. They will force you back. “I am not returning” you spit out, not beating around the bush, you get straight to the point.

“But you must, mother is left worried" he tries to grab onto your wrist but you move back not allowing him to get a hold on you.

"Worried for me? Or that the season is almost finished?" You question him and guilt is evident in his eyes as your question takes him aback.

"Don't be silly" your younger brother tries to calm you, "we just want you home" he tries to convince you.

"I am perfectly fine on my own" you stand your ground even though you see the frustration in your older brother, creep closer and closer to the surface "I have no intention of returning" you continue to press forward.

"Do you not feel shame, what would father have to say?" He dares ask. Shame? The word linger in your head for you to wonder if your brother truly knows the definition of the word or were all those years at Oxford a waste. For how had this brought shame upon you or your father, how does a want for purpose,happiness and freedom lead to shame?

"For if father was alive, this problem wouldn't have occurred. He would have listened" you hissed, jaw tight as you teeth clenched and the words slipped out through the small cracks.

"How naive of you to think'' he laughs and finally latches onto your wrist, holding tightly he's prepared to drag you to the carriage until another holds you back. Jisung’s hand holds onto your arm, pulling you back, looking back you don’t think you have never seen such fierce eyes. A red you never thought you’d see engulf Jisung, he’s not prepared to let you go. "Let go" your brother's voice is stern as he clenches his jaw yet Jisung doesn't budge.

"Jisung this isn't our place" Jaemin whispers, defeat in his voice and he is right. What say do they have in this? If you don’t even have a choice, who are they to decide but then again you are certain a man’s opinion will most definitely be heard by your brother over your own anyday. “Let go of her,” Jisung threatened.

Your brother couldn’t help but scoff at his words “She belongs to me, I am her blood and she holds mine and my father’s name” his grip tightening around your wrist as he pulls you towards him once more, your eyebrows furrow and you wince in slight pain, Jaemin instinctively flinches forward before stopping himself, getting involved will just make it worse he reminds himself. You smile at him weakly in hopes it can put him at ease but as both your arms are being held hostage, both cuffs tightening as the seconds go by not one daring to back down.

“She doesn’t belong to anyone” Jisung spits back “She is free to do as she pleases and she chooses to stay here” he continuously argues in hope of changing his mind , yet what can he possibly do? Now that they have found you, what is left for you to do? They will not let you live on how you wish, they will not leave without you and even if they didn’t take you tonight, they will come back for you. It’ll only cause chaos, you will again become a burden on someone else. “You do not own her” he repeats.

The words you so despise form on your tongue and as you open your mouth to say them, Jisung’s eye beg you not to. He knows what's to come and even as every ounce of your being screams and cries as the words are spoken, you let them leave you regardless. “Let go Jisung” voice weak, shaking.

“But you said you would stay” his voice shaky, encased in sadness, his grip weakens but his hold stays, unable to let you go once he’s finally got you but you were always a dream to him, one that never seemed quite real and though you mixed with reality, almost coming true, he was but a fool to believe you could be his.

“I said maybe” your voice quiet, breaking a promise you didn’t make, breaking his heart and breaking yours that was just put back together.

“She said for you to let go” Your brother interrupts, a smirk on his face that Jaemin has a dying need to punch off but he retains himself. Jisung lets go of you hesitantly, his hand still lingering onto the skin of your forearm and you take in his touch one last time. He watches you leave, tears falling from his eyes for you were so close yet so far.

The tears from that night, months ago, have yet still to dry for every living and breathing moment is lived in agony, longing turning into nothing but numbness as it engulfed your being and became you. Days and nights merged, smiles are a forgotten act for it felt awkward even attempting. The large manor is silent, it perfectly resembles the void in your chest. You live as a ghost, sleepless nights and empty days your mind always occupied with the thought of Jisung.

His eyes that held the universe, his warmth the sun envied, his smile were solace was found, his laughter that was contagious, voice that was soothing, beauty unmatched, the gods were both proud and envious of their greatest creation. The years went by and yet the image of his is as clear as ever, preserved in your memories, you live on in your dreams that can’t escape reality. So close and yet so far from each other.

You sit in the empty rooms, walls bare for the art never compared to Jisung’s beauty, you never found art that could express the definition of art as well as Jisung did. Each time looking at Jisung you found a new feature to adore, hidden beauties that appeared when the moonlight hit his skin, features highlighted by the golden rays of the sun. No art seemed to do that, no art seemed worthy of showcasing.

Your library remains empty, clearing it out of all books, you couldn't bear to look at one again. For everyone of them taunted you with the memory of him. The way he used to sit in the center of the room, arms sprawled out on the desk, his head so close to the paper as he would write. Your eyes would follow every one of his movements, so distracted you would forget about the heavy book in your hand. Yet now with a book in hand, your eyes search for distraction. Yearning to find him, to make the pink blush, that you so missed, appear as he couldn't take your stare any longer. The adrenaline of when his eyes suddenly come up to meet yours, the scrambling of his when you catched his stare. You missed it all.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer's day” the performer begins, as you sit around the large table for dinner. Your every movement halts as the words leave his mouth, your mind runs back to the lavender fields, into the small room at the back of the house, finding the scarlet red book. “Thou art more lovely and more temperate” he continues on but no you are not temperate. Your heart aches, your eyes sting and a wave of nausea over takes you. Your fist smash into the table, legs standing up, you push the heavy velvet chair back

“Stop!” you shout, voice hoarse and broken, you can’t help the tears that roll down your cheek. You can’t help the way your whole body shakes upon hearing those words, you can’t help but miss him. The whole room stares at you, a heavy silence settles, the only sounds are your whimpers as you sob in your palms, falling to your knees. Their eyes lingered, terrified. No one dared to speak to you first, let alone the events of the night. Afraid they would cause you to break down once more but they failed to see it was they, who stole happiness away from you, stole freedom and ripped your heart out of your chest. You wandered aimlessly through the many halls, staring out of windows you wanted the sun rise and fall, watched the goddess of the moon shine down on the earth yet neither held the beauty they did when Jisung was by your side.

Summer has come to find you once again, those who say time heals have never been broken. Time doesn’t heal. Time forgets, the world may move on but you do not, you cannot share the same ecstasy the birds sing, the happiness in summer flowers, For now you hate flowers, you hate how their beauty and meaning are only reminders of your longing.

“How about lavenders for the drawing room ma’am, I’m told they are your favourite” the maid asks, her mission to make you smile, to rid you of the constant tear stained cheeks; nothing but a failure is awaiting her. Just the mere thought of lavenders causes your skin to crawl, for nothing symbolises him more than the vibrant violet. Yet you turn to her, a weak smile and you nod because maybe the scent will help ease your heart and just maybe you’ll find serenity in them once more.

Though days were long, summer left in a hurry for now autumn was here once more. The leaves had already begun to brown and the vase filled with lavenders, which sat upon the grand piano, had wilted now - their scent and comfort decaying with them.

And soon followed the day, the world knew would soon be coming, had arrived upon us, September 1st 1939:

“we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender.” you read Winston Churchill’s words in the papers, war has arrived. The heavy ring sits on your finger as you stare out the window reminiscing the day you were watching the carriage be prepared and though it is your two brothers and the Earl’s son leaving you can’t help but let your mind imagine Jeno,Jaemin and Jisung, For the war will take them further away from you, to barren land filled with death, guns pointed at them, bombs dropping at anytime. Though the war has imprisoned many,taken from others, you thank it’s timing for it has liberated you momentarily. The Earl’s son waved goodbye to you and though you raise your hand to send him off to a war you’re not sure he’ll return from, you have no intention of calling him your fiance whilst he is gone and if he returns you have no intention of calling him your husband. You pity him in that memory.

“Ma’am” a voice calls out to you, you don’t recognise who it is for every voice sounds the same but regardless it pulls you back to the world of the present for the war was already well into its sixth year. Though your body is here, your heart and soul never left Jisung for he had stolen that long ago. You turn to find a small envelope, blue like the ones that found you happiness. “To y/n'' the handwriting is familiar but to you all letters were painted the way Jisung’s hand did, for your eyes can simply not forget but it is what the letter contained that brought a soul into your lifeless shell.

As an unperfect actor on the stage

Who with his fear is put beside his part,

Sonnet 23 with annotations is what your eyes fall upon, the second line underlined it reads: “With great courage I put aside this fear to confess to you such words that I cannot express on my own.” Your hand runs over the lines, the smell of gunpowder but there is a scent that you so long for. The scent of lavender still lingers onto the parchment which ripples under your clutch. .

Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,

Whose strength’s abundance weakens his own heart;

The next lines highlighted “For this feeling was just as strong as rage yet it was where I found peace, my heart weakened at the sight of you and from that moment onwards it belonged to you.” A smile naturally took over you, the flutter in your chest an ecstatic feeling you forgot.

So I for fear of trust forget to say

The perfect ceremony of love’s rite,

And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay,

O’ercharged with burden of mine own love’s might.

O, let my books be then the eloquence

And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,

Who plead for love and look for recompense

More than that tongue that more hath more expressed.

O, learn to read what silent love hath writ.

To hear with eyes belongs to love’s fine wit.

“Know that I cannot express the words my soul speaks, for we are worlds apart so allow the empty words of the English language, attempt to convey my love. Look not at my words only but at the way the fool I make in your presence for my mind is clouded with you, heart beats for you and soul yearns for you. For you are my sonnet 18 as a friend and sonnet 23 as a lover.” Tears fall unnoticed, for you hear his voice so clear in your head, for six years you waited for a single word from him and here he has gifted you a sonnet between lovers, so how could you possibly love someone else.

“Yours forever Jisung, the boy who waits in the lavender field”. You sob as you read those words, a fresh new wave of tears staining the parchment as the longing to be in his warmth and comfort is washed upon you as if it were that day you were forced away from him. Opening a wound that never could fully heal.

Waiting is a virtue of love, it proves your love, for it feels equivalent to death and yet you still wait but there is a point in time where you can wait no longer, where you must stop waiting and strive for love now. At this exact moment, it is time. For you are ready to give up the world to run to Jisung, to find the beauty in the moon once more, to find solace in the sweet smell of lavenders once more, to find the warmth of the sun once more, to find happiness once more. For happiness was the only reason worth living.

You're not sure how long you’ve been running, legs moving on their own, you don’t look back you’ve learnt never to look back, never return. As the metallic taste at the back of your throat rises, oxygen running thin and your legs almost collapse from exhaustion. It’s as if you jumped out of the past, gown torn at the train station, you’re left in rags but it’s different this time. For before you ran to find your happiness and now you run to where happiness lies. In a field of lavenders.

Every fiber of your being pulses with the need to see him, hear him, touch him. To feel his warmth once more, to have his voice send serenity through you, to see his eyes again and to smell the sweet scent that lingers around him. You’re not sure what souls are made of but whatever it is yours and his are the same. For your heart yearns for him, desperate, it aches every living second of everyday without him. For a life without love, is a life unlived.

The rows and rows of purple are in sight and there in the middle of it all stands him, waiting. Jisung doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is, he can tell by your footsteps, your breath, your scent and the sudden ease he feels. You are there. Yet he does anyways for the memory of you has haunted him for the past 6 years, on the battlefield, in the barracks, he would only see you, only hear you but he couldn’t touch you; for you were merely a dream mixing with reality.

But here you are standing in front of him, Your expensive dress torn up, now rags that wrapped around you with the bottom half missing. He smiles as nostalgia washes over him, was this real or were you just a fragmented memory. Was he simply remembering happier times, a time where you were in his grasp. “Jisung” you call out, voice soft and unsure, a hand reaching out for his own, to make sure what you saw in front of you wasn’t a hallucination, a cruel trick your mind played on you. Slowly a warmth overtook your hand, sparks sent through your skin and into your bloodstream and the beating of your heart returned. Tears formed but never fell because one of you needs to be strong, Jisung sobbed as he fell into your embrace, gripping onto you. “Never leave again” he chokes out, breathing heavy and uneven. “Promise me” he whispers into your hair.

Pulling him back to face you, his eyes are red and puffy yet they burn with passion, his cheeks stained with tears but the pink dust is always still there, you smile at him closing the gap and finally placing your lips on his. The taste of salty tears invade your mouth and your lips move against his and he kisses you back, placing his hand on your cheek he pulls you closer, thumb brushing over the top of your cheekbone. Your knees weaken and you grip at his shirt, desperately clinging to him as your knuckles turn white, as he kisses you with passion overflowing with each soft movement, sincere and full of the love he can't express through words. The scent of lavender is overwhelming and intoxicating, you press yourself against him. Your lungs burn as he kisses you breathless, sparks flying into your bloodstream and unbearable heat takes over whilst your lips move as one. Pulling away, chests heaving as you pull in as you regain all the oxygen you exchange, Jisung places his forehead on yours, his cheeks pink and in between breaths you whisper against his lips “I promise” and again he pulls you in, lips crashing on yours.

This is your first love, it may not be your last but it will be the one you remember most, for it taught you how to love, it taught you the struggles of love and it taught you to feel loved. In search of fulfillment and meaning, you weren't looking for love but it found you and soon after fulfillment and meaning came in the form of a boy in a lavender field.

© (jisungiest) 2021. All Rights Reserved.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

ascendance - 04

PAIRING: mob!bucky barnes x reader

WARNINGS: abduction, age gap (reader is 23, bucky is 37)

A/N: hello!! i hope you enjoy this new chapter as i dive more into bucky’s past. italics in this work symbolise a flashback in case anyone’s confused. hope you enjoy it xx

> NEXT CHAPTER | MASTERLIST

The entrance hall of the Barnes household was pilled up with people. Between his mum barking orders left to right and caterers bringing food in and out, the once silent room turned into a busy crossroads which meant James had retreated back to his room. He was sat down in his bed, cashmere black suit on and hair pushed back, Dead Souls opened on top his legs. He was lost in between the small black letters printed on the yellowing paper, so lost that the sound of his window opening went by him until a loud thump woke him up from his literary daze. Bucky looked up to see his younger sister, sat on the floor of his bedroom by the window with her dress partially on and hair messy due to the windy weather outside. He sighed, closing his book and putting it off to the side.

    - Can’t you climb into your own bedroom? - Bucky got up from bed, leaning down to help her back onto her feet.

    - Yours is closer. - she brushed the dirt off her baby pink dress picked by their mother. - Shouldn’t you be downstairs?

    - Shouldn’t you be in your bedroom? 

    - Touche. - she pointed. - Can you not tell mum? She’ll freak out if she discovers that I went out on dad’s big day. 

    - Go on, I’ll keep mum occupied while you sort out that bird’s nest hair. 

    - Thank you! - she smiled, giving him a short hug. - What am I gonna do when you go to Princeton? Who’s gonna cover for me?

    - I guess you’ll just have to form an alliance with the maids.

Y/N and Bucky were silent, barely speaking to each other if even looking into each other’s eyes. She merely remained there in her operatic costume, the corset doing the best of jobs at enhancing her female features and almost making her look like a femme fatale out of a classical movie in rich red and green fabrics decorated with what he guessed where heavy metal gold pieces resembling precious jewels and golden rings. He did not know which production they were putting on, he hadn’t even heard her sing before but she looked like she belonged in that stage, like she would have been showered in praise the moment the spotlight grazed her. 

She paced around the living room not exactly sure what to do, the beads which made up her skirt and would suddenly peak to show her legs making a slight rustling noise as her eyes studied the book shelf which was filled with tons and tons of books from the classics to mere economy books. Maybe she could read them whenever the tension between of them wasn’t so apparent. She couldn’t help but sometimes look at the badly fixed window and wonder if she could make it, maybe when he wasn’t looking, maybe when he was sleeping yet looking at him; tall, muscular, fast, definetely much stronger than her, she knew that even if she managed to get outside, he would easily get her back. Her mind battled her positive side as she wondered if this was it, if this was home now. Suddenly, her old flat no longer seemed old and she would give everything away if only she could go back, back to being told to do errands that really did not concern her, to stepping on bobby pins laid on the ground, to way too strong makeup which looked ridiculous in proper daylight. She would give everything, if she could go back to what her life had been. 

The man whose name he hadn’t even dignified himself to tell her yet was sat on one of the high chairs by the kitchen with his eyes trained on her. She briskly turned around, arms crossed under her chest with an almost child like pout of someone who had just been punished. In reality, I’m the one who’s being punished here, he thought to himself.

     - You could tell me your name. - she said, not looking into his eyes, instead rubbing her worn out ballet shoes against his hard floor. 

     - You don’t need to know my name. - he was quiet yet imposing. Y/N could not deny he seemed to have a strong presence despite barely raising his voice. It was almost magnetic as if he was made to be looked at, yet she felt he didn’t want to be seen. 

     - What if I need to call out for you? 

     - I would know. There’s no one else here, is it?

Y/N did not reply to this, instead rolling her eyes and sitting down on the couch. There was not much to do in the small one bedroom apartment other than pace around, eat and watch television. Her hand flew over to the remote, pointing it at the TV to turn it on which opened on the news channel. She guessed this was the way she had of now knowing what was happening outside the four walls she was being held captive in. There wasn’t much happening and even if it was, all the local news could talk about was about the upcoming mayoral election. It was a circus with advertisements and rumours flying around about each and every candidate and while it was almost painfully enjoyable to see men over thirty acting like gossip mean girls in school, everyone knew who was gonna win. 

She’d always been told that behind every great man, there’s a great woman and in this particular election it couldn’t be anymore true. The favourite candidate to win, Robert Moore, also known as Bobbie, was married to an senator’s daughter but not just any senator, Senator Barnes. She was too young to remember his policies or even his public persona, yet from what she knew, he had been a very well liked and well respected Senator, coming from a prominent family and building an even more prominent family. Being married to Rebecca Barnes, now Rebecca Barnes-Moore, was a one way ticket to a good career in politics. The two stood in the television screen, side by side in an almost JFK and Jackie Kennedy fashion with sunny smiles looking like the picture perfect Americana couple. It seemed all his ads showed him, his wife and their new born baby. High school sweethearts, it seemed.

    - Are you gonna watch that the whole day? - she turned her head around, looking at his annoyed expression, whiskey glass in hand. 

    - They look good together. 

    - It’s a circus. - he snickered, sitting by her side. 

    - What are you? An anarchist? - those words flew out of her mouth without any filter, mostly out of nuisance. - Her father was a great politician and he is young and likeable.  

     - Young and likeable ... sounds like great political traits. 

     - What do you know about politics?

     - What do you know about politics? Do they have a crash course in politics at whatever company you were in? 

She rolled her eyes, turning the volume up to listen to the broadcaster tell the love story of the future mayor and his wife. Her face softened as she heard what was probably a highly modified version of the actual truth yet she couldn’t help but slightly smile at the idea of it. They seemed in love and as someone who had a degree in pretending to be in love while singing, it warmed her heart to see it. She liked that idea, the idea of Ms and Mrs Americana, the idea of having someone to lean in. Well, she liked the idea of someone. Sure, maybe the man whose name she still didn’t know and was starting to believe was never going to learn was right, it was a circus, all elections are but she couldn’t help but be pulled by the myth of it, by the we against the world mentality no matter how morally wrong it was. 

She continued to watch the coverage of the election run as the man next to her got up from the couch to pick up a phone call. Her hearing slightly moved towards what he was doing, mind always thinking of escaping but even though he was talking on the phone, his gaze was trained of her as if she were his prey. He mumbled something on the phone before turning it off and moving his eyes to text someone yet after that his eyes were on her once more. 

    - Try not to escape for the next hour.

    - Do you have a nameless anarchy convention to attend?

    - Billy is coming to watch over you. No funny business. 

    - Will. - she corrected him. - He doesn’t like being called Billy. 

    - As long as you don’t pull a mission impossible on him, I will call him whatever you want. 

Will didn’t take long to arrive, dressed in a tennis-like outfit as if he had been pulled away from tennis which sounded like something he’d do. Bucky exchanged a few words with him before leaving the two of them together. He trusted Billy, or Will, was smart enough not to let her escape or run away. God, he didn’t even want to think about what John would do to him if she escaped, much less what he would do to her if she escaped. He made his drive to John’s condo in fifth avenue, parking his bike somewhere before making his way up. The condo was always weirdly filled with chatter talk yet he could see no people, it was as if the ghosts of the people he had taken out followed him in his own home and Bucky couldn’t say he pitied him. After all, he had his own ghosts too. 

He looked into John’s office where he was sat in the couch, the coverage of the election run on the television on low volume. John’s eyes immediately found Bucky’s figure looming at the entrance, never really entering, just standing behind the line which separated the hall from the office. 

     - How’s the roomie? - he motioned his hand for him to come in. - Still pretty?

     - What do you need?

     - I just got an invitation to a fundraiser. Zemo’s going so I want you to go. 

     - I can’t, I have her to watch over Y/N. She’s not very keen on remaining in the flat.

    - Chain her up for all I care. It’s in two weeks and I’ll be damned if I’m there by myself with Zemo. Besides it’s your sister’s fundraiser, I always love to see Rebecca. 

    - She’s not gonna be there. - his jaw locked. - A fundraiser for the mob? It’s mostly free alcohol and networking with them not showing up. 

    - Maybe you should bring your roomie. She’s pretty and if anything I’m sure she can sing and if not maybe she can entertain in another form. 

    - The NYPD is probably looking for her, it’s not wise ...

    - Do you make the rules? - John interrupted him, leaning against the couch with arms crossed. - You seem to have forgotten who makes the rules, soldat. 

    - I just don’t think ...

    - You don’t think. - he interrupted him once more. - This election is important and since I do not have the right person here to get ahead, I will make do with what we have. I don’t give a fuck about what you do when you’re at your flat but she is mine. She is my get out of jail card. Are we clear, soldat?

    - Yes. 

    - You can go now. - he dismissed him. Bucky turned around, eyes open wide yet emotionless face as if he were disconnected from his own consciousness. He guessed it was for the best to remain disconnected, to not know what was going on.

He drove himself back home, standing alone at night looking at his flat; the window still broken while the lights were flickering. He thought about running off, starting his bike and running off into the night and just drive until the tank was empty but he couldn’t. He had strings, strings which kept him tied to where he was right now. He guessed that now she was another string keeping him here. 

Bucky sighed as he walked back to his flat, opening the door to a rather serene sight. Will was by the kitchen watching the football game while Y/N was laid across the couch, book in hand which he recognised as one of his old ones. Her hair was different, she probably had taken off her wig and for the first time since those few minutes in the costume room. It looked soft, framing her face and getting in front of her eyes as she herself got lost in the room. Will excused himself, leaving just as he noticed Bucky before he could be yelled at by using his television. Yet again, Y/N and Bucky were alone in that small flat. She looked up from the book and at him before returning to read.

He left her with the book, walking to his bedroom which was probably now more hers than his to grab one of trousers and hoodies before returning back to the living room. Still reading. At least she wasn’t trying to break any more windows. He put the hoodie and trousers by her side, turning off the television as more screams for the football match came through. 

   - You can change into those. - he pointed at the clothing, getting her attention as she closed the book. - Those beads can’t be comfortable. 

   - Oh 

   - The bathroom’s there. - he pointed at one of the few doors in the flat. - You can shower too, there’s towels. 

   - Thank you. - she grabbed the things he had put out for her before leaving him in the living room by himself.

And then it was just him once more, alone, tied to this city which screamed everyone’s name but his.

TAGLIST: @lookiamtrying​ @buckyswillows​ @blossomslibrary​ @juliesland​ @iloveshawnieboi​ @unmagically​ @red-head011​ @poisonous00​ 

[lovetorn]

secret santa — chains!au [dream]

Dream x Fem!Reader Chains!AU — original fic here

Chains!AU masterlist

Summary: Secret Santa with the OT4. 

Warnings: as always, a lot of swearing, & some steamy sections but nothing too hot. 

Word Count: 3.6k+

A/N: AHHH ITS FINALLY HERE!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!! AND HAPPY HANUKKAH TO ANYONE WHO CELEBRATES IT!!! I HOPE YOU ENJOY AND LOVE THIS AS MUCH AS I DO!!!

The letter from Technoblade was extremely vague. He had ordered for a meeting as soon as possible and seeing as it was a week until Christmas, his employees dreaded the occasion. 

Y/n, George, Sapnap and Dream dragged their feet towards the entrance of Techno’s mansion. The vast white house took up most of one’s eye line, with the building’s tall white pillars signalling the importance of the man who lived there. Sapnap wore a permanent pout on the journey there and continued to do so until the group stood in the elegant ballroom in the middle bottom floor of the mansion. 

“If we get yelled at, I’m leaving.” George threw Sapnap a bored look, silently telling him to shut up as the last of their associates entered. Techno was nowhere to be seen, as usual, but the anticipation—dread—of knowing the situation, had Dream on edge. He was more snappy than normal and he wore a hard expression that not even Y/n could crack. 

“It’s Christmas, what the fuck could he possibly want?” Dream spat, crossing his arms over his chest. Y/n peered at him and placed her hand on his bicep. The touch made Dream snap his head towards her, his eyes slightly softening at the sight of her. “Sorry.”

Y/n shook her head, “It’s okay to be angry.” Dream dragged the side of his mouth between his teeth in annoyance. The sound of someone clearing their throat caused the room to fall silent. 

“You’re probably wondering why I called you here this close to Christmas.” Techno’s deep voice bounced off the walls. The statement made George, Sapnap and Dream nod exaggeratedly. 

“I suppose I’ll get on with it then; I’ve decided to host a Secret Santa for Techno Industries this year!” At the sound of nothing life-threatening, Dream’s eyes widened. His head on a swivel, he looked at Y/n and then the boys. His mouth had fallen open and the outline of a smile began forming on his cheeks. The rare sight of Dream grinning in Techno’s presence was satisfying; who would’ve guessed something as trivial as Secret Santa would break his streak of sternness during in these meetings. 

“I have already picked out your partners, so check your phones for the person you’ll be buying for,” It was exceptionally out of character for Techno to be so joyful, but perhaps the holiday season had brought his spirits up. “Have a great evening, everybody! Happy Christmas! And Happy Hanukkah for those who celebrate it!” 

The high-pitched dings of phone notifications prompted everybody to check them. Fishing her phone from her purse, Y/n looked at the screen, Sapnap. A smile broke out across her face as she looked around the group. 

She met George’s gaze, who also wore a grin. Looking at Dream and then Sapnap, she realised they were all beaming. She furrowed her eyebrows quickly when all four of them were eyeing each other, knowing something was up.

“Tell me, Y/n, did you happen to get someone in this group?” Sapnap asked, his smile growing even more when she nodded. “I did too,” Dream said, followed by George, “Yeah same.” 

“Guys! We got each other! Almost looks like it was rigged.” Sapnap‘s eyebrows raised whilst a smirk etched its way on his face. 

George eyeballed him, “Sapnap, how did you know this was even happening? Anyway, that defeats the entire purpose of secret Santa in the first place. How did you even manage to do this?” Sapnap scrunched his face up, “So many questions and no answers! A magician never reveals his secrets. Plus, nobody actually cares, Georgie; get a life.” 

A look of confusion and irritation crossed George’s face as he threw his hands up. Dream stifled a laugh with his fist and Y/n smiled softly, not wanting to annoy George further. 

“Anywho… who got me?”

y/n, i need your help.  idk what to buy dream.

Y/n rolled her eyes as she received the messages from Sapnap. She set down the bowl she held in the kitchen of the team’s penthouse apartment in San Diego and picked up her phone to respond. 

your problem. 

Reading her text, Sapnap groaned out loud and falsely cried; he knew if he was loud enough, somebody would come to his aid. He sat on his bed in his room, the clock ticking mockingly in the background. He spun around to scowl at it before he was startled by Dream—wrong person!

“What’s wrong now, Snapmap?” Dream asked. The younger boy stilled and turned back to see the older boy standing in the doorway. “N-Nothing!”

Dream furrowed his eyebrows, “Has this got to do with the present thing?” Sapnap nodded stiffly. The breeze from the open window drifted through the room and Sapnap begged for something outside to distract Dream. 

“Well, I can probably help you, who have you got?” Dream walked to the bed where Sapnap sat. “George?” His answer sounded more like a question as Dream’s face scrunched in confusion. Sapnap’s paranoid essence told Dream not to push any further, but he found the situation at hand funnier than it should've been. 

“I’ve got George.” Sapnap reddened and shot up from his spot. “I gotta go.” 

Dream watched his friend rush out of the room, a lopsided smile made its way onto his face. He glanced out of the window, the birds flying past distracting him for a moment before he snorted a laugh and made his way downstairs. 

—

“I fucked it, he knows I don’t have George, because he does!” Sapnap rambled to Y/n quietly in the kitchen. Y/n tried her best not to giggle at his panic and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Sapnap. Clay’s not smart enough to figure it out himself.” 

“Hey!” Sapnap’s eyes widened at the sound of Dream’s voice and threw his hand up at Y/n before he exited. 

“What’s this about me not being smart?” Dream sounded hurt, but the grin on his face told otherwise. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Really?” “Mhmm.”

Dream folded his lips between his teeth as he approached Y/n from his place in the doorway. “Something tells me, you’re lying.” 

Y/n shook her head as Dream’s hands ran over her hips. She bit down on her bottom lip as his face inched closer to hers. “You wouldn’t lie to me, Y/n? Would you?” The girl shook her head, tilting her head to meet his gaze. Dream’s tongue darted out to wet his lips as his eyes shifted from her eyes to her lips. 

“I need you to help me decide what to get George.” Y/n stepped back from Dream’s grip and groaned. “Seriously?” 

Dream lent over, his hands on his knees as he laughed. Y/n joined in with his cackles, swiftly moving around the kitchen to tend to the beeping oven. The tantalising aroma of fresh cookies filled the small space and Dream’s eyes lit up. “Cookies?” 

His jaw fell open at the sight of the sweets before he hurried towards the hot tray that sat on the counter. The chocolatey biscuits sat untouched, and Dream hovered over them, the steam heating his face. 

“They’re hot!” Y/n’s statement was ignored by him as he reached out to pluck a cookie off of the tray. Dream quickly retracted his hand as his fingertips brushed the hot metal. “Fuck!” 

He cradled his hand in his other as he turned towards Y/n, pouting. “You know for a man in your line of work, I'd expect you to be less of a pussy.”

Dream’s frown deepened as he held his fingers out to her, “Help me!” Y/n threw her head backwards in exasperation, fighting back a smile. “Fine.” 

Y/n had bought and finished Sapnap’s Secret Santa present. She held it out at arm’s length to admire her wrapping and moved to place it in her closet to hide it. She was just about to shove it behind her shoe rack when a voice made her jump.

“Hey,” Dream popped his head into Y/n’s room. She smiled at him and closed the closet doors without properly hiding Sapnap’s present. “Hi.” 

“I’ve got something for you,” He said, rounding his arm from behind his back. He held a small, red gift bag and the sight made Y/n gasp. 

“I didn’t know we were doing presents, Clay.” Her eyes filled with tears at the sentiment and for not thinking about buying Dream a present. “We weren’t, but I saw this and had to get it for you.” 

Dream guided Y/n to sit on her bed. He handed her the bag and waited for her to open it, jabbing his fingers in her sides in an attempt to hurry the process.

“Stop poking me, I’m opening it.” She laughed, pulling a black box from the bag. Y/n’s eyes widened as she glanced at Dream, who sat with his thumbnail in his mouth. He let out a nervous laugh before Y/n opened the box. 

A small gold pendant with faint engravings of an animal sat within the velvet, the chain hidden under the material. Y/n tilted her head as she brought it closer to her face, tears blurring her vision. “It’s a lion; it symbolises strength, and you are the strongest woman I know, Y/n. You mean the absolute world to me, you know that?” 

Y/n nodded, lolling her head the rest on Dream’s shoulder “—plus, I’m a Leo, so it’s fitting.” Y/n shoved his shoulder. “It’s gorgeous.” 

She carefully brought her hand to remove it from the box, her hands shaking. “Stop shaking,” Dream laughed, taking the necklace from her hands. “I’m sorry! I’m nervous.” 

“You don’t think I am too?” He uttered, unclasping the hook.

“Aw, you’re nervous?” Y/n whispered, a tearful grin on her face. Dream blushed whilst he nodded. “Now, turn around.”

Y/n did as she was told and lifted her hair up. The cold, thin chain rested against her skin, the small pendant falling on her collarbones. Before she released her hair, she felt Dream’s lips against the nape of her neck. Flushing, Y/n twisted her body so she was facing him again. 

She brought her arms up to wrap around his neck in a hug, Dream circling his around her torso. “Thank you,” She whispered. “I love it.” 

Dream sighed, nudging his nose against her ear, “I love you.” Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, her emotions in overdrive as she felt him peck her cheek. Y/n craned her head back so she could look into Dream’s. “I love you.” 

Dream softly smiled before he dipped his head to connect their lips in a kiss. Y/n hummed at the feeling, her fingers moving to toy with the hairs at the bottom of his neck. Dream pulled away quickly, only to press his mouth back against her’s, his hands lifting her shirt up. 

A deep groan came from the back of Dream’s throat as Y/n tugged on his hair, the sound making her smile into his mouth. Suddenly, a soft pinch pricked the skin of her waist as she yelped gently. “Stop laughing at me, baby.” 

This only made Y/n giggle harder as she pulled away from Dream, a pout upon his features. She tipped her head to the side, a mocking frown on her face. Dream huffed and attempted to untangle their limbs whilst fighting a smile. Y/n reached out to grasp his wrists, the action causing Dream to stop moving. 

He cocked an eyebrow at Y/n before she tugged at his wrists and brought his face back to hers. The closeness of their lips and the mingling of breath was euphoric as Y/n closed her eyes to kiss him again—before she was rudely interrupted. 

“Who’d you get for Secret Santa?” 

“Clay!” 

Sapnap, George, Y/n and Dream had taken refuge next to the food table, choosing to stand away from the cluster of other associates in the middle of the room. Sapnap had complained beforehand about interacting with them, and as a group, they had decided it was best for all of them not to mingle. Although, Y/n had left to greet her friend, Niki at the beginning of the night and was soon dragged back to the group by Sapnap. 

They had been waiting on Technoblade to start the exchange of gifts for an hour now. Growing bored, Sapnap elbowed George in the ribs sharply, a giggle escaping his lips at the sound of his friend in pain, “Fuck off, Sapnap.” 

Dream’s arm was thrown over Y/n’s shoulders, her body turned to fit into his side. She looked up at him, expecting to be met with the usual hard expression Dream wore during meetings with Techno, but instead, she admired the faint upturn of the corners of his mouth. 

Finally, Technoblade waltzed into the room, his red velvet suit glittering in the light of the vast chandeliers above. His blossom hair was pulled back into a plait at the back of his head, and his two unusually sharp bottom teeth were visible from where the group stood as they watched him smirk. Sapnap rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, earning a jab in the ribs from George. “Dickhead,” he uttered through closed teeth. 

Technoblade scanned his eyes over the small gathering of employees in front of him. Golden bells and feathery tinsel hung from the walls and the soft rhythm of festive music played at the back of the ballroom. Despite the joyous atmosphere, his face remained stoic as he cleared his throat. 

“Good evening, everyone.” 

—

The exchange of gifts soon began, everybody moving to the back corner of the ballroom to pick out their present. 

Y/n, Sapnap, George and Dream decided to go get their presents last. Once they had all picked out the present with their name on it, George pushed Y/n’s shoulder lightly.

“Ladies first.” Y/n rolled her eyes and reached into the green bag. Her fingers wrapped around a brick-shaped item, the form oddly familiar as she lifted it out. The wrapped walkie talkie sat delicately in her grip. Y/n’s face lit up as she peeled the red paper away. 

“Oh my god…” 

“Dream told me you needed a new one since Schlatt destroyed your last one, so ta-da~!” George wore a silly grin as he watched Y/n admire the shiny, new walkie talkie. “I love it, thank you, Georgie.”

She brought him into a hug, her tight embrace showing George how grateful she actually was—he knew her time with Schlatt was traumatic, so he wanted to assure her that they were always there, more so when she was alone; even if that was in the form of a walkie talkie. 

“It’s my turn!” Sapnap laughed. He snatched the small wrapped box from the floor next to him. His face lit up as his fingers quickly moved to tear away at the wrapping paper. George furrowed his eyebrows at the oddly shaped gift and glanced at Dream who shook his head. They both turned to look at Y/n who gazed at Sapnap, meeting eyes again when they came to the realisation that it was she who bought the present. 

Sapnap pulled out a stack of red and white cards tied together with a green bow. He laughed in disbelief at the sight of the colours of his favourite fast-food restaurant. 

“Chick-Fil-A gift cards?” He beamed, his gaze scanning over his friends before Y/n raised her hand. “Y/n! I love you! Thank you!”

He stepped forward to wrap his arm around her shoulder in a half-hug. Y/n did the same, whispering a quick, ‘no problem’ to him. 

Dream narrowed his eyes at Sapnap, who’s smile only grew bigger. “Calm down, green boy, why do you hate me?”

“Ok, I’m next.” Dream announced, ignoring the question. He moved his growing hair out of his eyes as he brought the wrapped box in front of him. 

“You should’ve gotten him some hair clippers for that mop,” Y/n laughed, shoving Dream while he fake laughed and grimaced. Sapnap barked out a laugh and encouraged Dream to open the present. “Chill out.” 

Sapnap rolled his eyes and watched as Dream ripped the paper off, a smirk playing at his lips. “Oh look! Hair clippers!” 

The group burst into hysterics at the sight of the box that did, in fact, contain hair clippers. “I hate you guys.” 

“Be grateful, Dreamy! I paid good money for those.” Sapnap exclaimed, his laughs making it difficult to understand him. “While you're at it, shave that disgusting beard shit you’ve got going on, it’s gross.” 

“It’s hardly a beard. You’re just jealous because you can’t grow one as good as me,” Dream teased, earning a scoff from Sapnap, “That’s bullshit.” 

Dream gave Sapnap a bemused look and stepped forward to wrap his arm around his neck in a headlock. “You’re such a fuckin’ idiot.” 

Sapnap’s giggles attracted the attention of surrounding members, their laughter joining in with the group of four when they saw what was going on. 

“Well, unlike Sapnap, I actually got you a good present, George.” Dream said, releasing the youngest from the headlock. George peered down at the large red and green gift bag he held. 

“Ok…” He reached into the bag but stopped when his face scrunched up. Dream snorted out a laugh, his wheeze making it hard for everyone to keep a straight face. “Dream, what the fuck is this?” 

Dream’s laughs only intensified when George pulled a singular piece of wet spaghetti. Y/n laughed out loud with a puzzled expression, and Sapnap slapped his knee with tears in his eyes. 

“Oh no! Did I put the wrong present in the bag?” Dream struggled to breathe through his cackles. George genuinely seemed hurt as he pouted, his head dropping towards the floor. 

“NO! No, George, I’m kidding—here,” Dream moved to pull something from his back pocket. George lifted his head and his frown was immediately replaced with a look of shock when Dream dropped a gold compass in his palm. George was unable to form a coherent sentence as he gazed at Dream, his eyes becoming watery. “How?”

“I contacted your dad, actually, and he was more than happy to send it over.” Dream said, happily accepting George's hug when he wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Sapnap glanced at Y/n, confused until George noticed.  

“It was my Grandad’s compass. He took this everywhere he went during the war. I thought it was gone forever when he died.” Sapanp’s eyebrows raised and his jaw fell, “Woah.” 

“Y/n helped me.” Dream admitted, motioning his hand to her as she waved. 

“Y/n.” George moved to hug the girl next, his tears falling onto her shoulder. She exhaled a laugh and brought her hand to the back of his head, “It was no problem, honestly. I know how much it means to you.” 

George pulled back, wiping at his cheeks, suddenly very embarrassed at making a scene. “Sorry guys.” 

“Don’t be sorry, Georgie, it’s a sentimental gift, we understand,” Sapnap said, patting his friend’s back. “But why wasn’t I a part of this?”

Tugging on Dream’s sleeve, Y/n pulled him back inside his bedroom. “I’ve got a present for you.” 

“Uh—we gotta be downstairs in like 5 minutes,” Dream laughed, the tips of his ears reddening as he jutted his thumb over his shoulder. “No! Not that type of present, get your head out of the gutter.” 

Dream continued to giggle, even when Y/n sat him down on his bed. “Close your eyes.” 

Y/n rushed to his wardrobe to reach up and grab the long, flat box that laid on the middle shelf. She placed it in his lap and then resumed to sit next to him. At the feeling of something on his thighs, Dream opened his eyes. He gave her a pointed look and continued to open the box.

His brought his hand to tuck his hair behind his ear as he reached inside the side of the box. His movement froze when he felt the object and turned to face Y/n. She only laughed as he continued to drag it out of the cardboard. Dream gapped at the feeling of smooth ceramic under his fingers. “Baby..” 

“I told you I was going to get you a new one, so I did,” Y/n spoke softly, her voice like honey to him. Dream furrowed his brows and Y/n brought her thumb to smooth out the creases, “Don’t do that, you’ll get wrinkles.” 

That elicited a giggle out of Dream. He placed it on his duvet on the other side of him and turned back towards Y/n. “You didn’t need to do this.” 

Y/n rolled her eyes, slapping him lightly on the bicep, “Shut up, yes I did. I promised.” Dream shook his head, returning his gaze to the mask. 

“I love you, so much. You have no idea.” Y/n squinted one eye and she tilted her head, “I’m pretty sure I have an idea.” 

“Oh yeah?” Dream questioned, placing the mask and the box on the floor before he pushed Y/n backwards on the bed. She nodded, moving her hands to his shoulders as he hovered over her. 

“I know because I love you so much more,” Dream pulled his head back, looking at her in bewilderment. “No chance.” And when he leaned down to press a kiss to her lips, a scream interrupted them.

“Close your fucking door! Gross!” 

“Fuck off, Sapnap!” 

[neocatharsis]

Ten on his new Represent capsule, grappling with creativity, and evading genre lines.

As Ten Lee - a vocalist and dancer in K-pop groups NCT (with whom he debuted in 2016) and Super M, and Chinese group WayV - is musing over his proclivity for partnering music or visual styles in a way that others deem strange, he veers off on a tangent. “Anything can be matched… except juice and coffee,” he says, suddenly. “Those two should never be.” Ten is infamously anti-fruit. It stems from a mistaken process of association in childhood where “I had the image of a spider and the image of fruit mixed up,” he laughs awkwardly, “so now whenever I put fruit in my mouth, I think there’s spiders in my mouth.”

Random abstractions such as this pepper his rapid-fire conversation, like small fireworks fizzing through the dark. Excitable, enthused and sharply alert, if Ten’s energy was visible it would be a shimmering mantle of gold and silver dust. As a dancer, he moves with a sinuous, controlled power that can shift from elegant to explosive on a single beat. As a visual artist, the Bangkok-born, multilingual 25-year-old recently added the title of designer to his growing list of achievements, launching an already sold out collaboration with the bespoke merch platform Represent.

Aptly, he named his collaboration “What is ??? THE ANSWERS”, for although being a chameleonic artist is one of Ten’s greatest strengths, the personality traits that enable this created within him question marks around how he saw himself fitting into the world. “People ask me, ‘What kind of music do you like?’ And I say, ‘I like R&B but hope it sounds rock’. And they’re like, ‘That doesn’t make sense’.” It was troubling to Ten that people began telling him who he was and how he should be, instead of accepting him as is.

In a recent Instagram Live, the myriad of Ten’s contrasts tumble forthwith. He’s the doting cat-dad. His inner emo, who loves rock music, shows off dried roses, with the stern, black, geometric lines of the large tattoo on his inner right arm sometimes visible. But he’s also delicate in a way, with his butterfly tattoo and hair lightly permed, who names daisies as his other favourite flower, and plays Fousheé’s breathy TikTok hit, 'Deep End'.

“Have you seen the image where I have my name in a cross in lots of different languages?” He pulls the image up on his phone. The design sits on his Represent long sleeve tee. “I was thinking [about this], like, what you’re saying... Ten has this luvvie flower side and a very ‘rawwrr!’ side. I’m always like, ‘Ten, what kind of person are you?’ I do ask myself that, too, because everything I like is so different [to the other].” He could have conceded, and reined himself in. He’s pushed back instead. “I thought, ‘I can be anything I want, I can be this in the morning and this at night. I can be any person I want to be’. And that’s what makes me comfortable and happy.”

On his Instagram, Polaroids feature scrawled messages, like “Don’t tell me what to do!” and “Whatever! I’ll do it my way”. The designs of his collaboration seek to challenge being boxed in by other people’s standards, thus limiting ourselves. The recurring symbol of a cross tipped with arrows is a nod to the Chinese letter for 10, but doubles as a plus sign. He’s added it to his Instagram, writing “TEN_+•10” in his bio. “A plus sign can mean that you’re adding on and growing.” He points to another version of the arrow-cross, one with short diagonal dashes between its points that symbolise light. It means, he says, “that I’m radiating. I’m burning, I’m active, I’m doubling myself.” He touches his forearm, where crowning his geometric tattoo is a blazing sun. “I have this, like, if you want to be the light, you have to burn. I relate to that.”

This isn’t to say Ten’s self-exploration is complete. While celebrating his strengths, the artwork also portrays parts of himself not yet conquered. He admits to being a chronic overthinker: “Even very small things that happen to me, I rethink a thousand times, and I get stressed out because of the things I do. Like, the main theme [here] is me overthinking but trying to find an answer even though it doesn’t have any answer.” Fittingly, spiral shapes dominate his designs, looming large amongst bright, bold shapes that evoke 80s Pop Art and graffiti, though Ten shies away from defining himself as “fully an artist, I’m not in the position to say things like that yet.”

“I’m still learning and trying new things. You learn by getting different elements from different people and I’m in that stage now.” He enjoys wandering the infinite halls of Instagram and Pinterest where he screenshots art that he likes, lost in the images, often for hours. He explains that he’s mostly influenced by whatever his current visual obsession is. “I’m interested in tattoos lately so my paintings look like tattoo designs. I’m that person who, when they see stuff, it goes into my brain and instantly comes out from my hands,” he laughs.

Ten’s introduction to art and design was through his mother, who believed music, art and sport were more important in a child’s development than traditional academia. “She didn’t care if I got an A* or not, just don’t get an F or a D,” he grins. Like any kid forced to do something, Ten railed against spending his weekends at art school. He attended but he didn’t draw. He befriended his teacher and other pupils and, as they worked, he chatted. “I was a very talkative kid! When I came to SM Entertainment (in 2013), I had a lot of my own time because my parents were in Thailand and I was alone. I had to absorb all the new culture and adapt to a new environment.’” When he felt surrounded by “negative energy”, he began drawing, enamoured with the space and freedom it offered because in art, as he often says, “there’s no right answer.”

There is, however, sometimes a middle ground. His goal was to make the Represent collection accessible to his diverse fanbase. “I wanted to make things that people can easily wear because it was my first project to make something with clothes and it’s a collab. If you go too far out, no one will get it. If you go too far back, people won’t reach for it. So finding the middle ground is important but that’s the hardest thing to do. If it’s my own project, I’ll be like, ‘I’m the president of this brand, I’m gonna make all the weird clothes that I can imagine!’”

He sought second opinions to ensure his designs landed the way he hoped. “I have a lot of good friends around me - my choreographer, (SHINee and Super M member) Taemin hyung, my manager. I randomly ask people I’m comfortable with and have known for a long time, like Mark (Lee, of NCT and Super M). Mark has the same kind of perspective as me, but I’m a person who is arrghhh!” He waves his hands in the air. “And he’s very calm. I need a person who is opposite of me because when I’m in a mood, I talk nonsense - ‘I wanna do this, I wanna do that, I wanna make this!’ - and Mark’s like,’Bro, calm down’,” he says in a rather uncanny impression of the Canadian-Korean.

Ten works fast when he’s drawing. He has to. He describes his personality as someone who can't wait until the next day to do something. “I’m very impatient,” he smiles. “If I’m going to paint or draw, I’m going to finish it in, like, two hours. I can’t sit down for three hours.” When inspiration hits him, it’s off the back of deep contemplation, sometimes about the mundane - “Like, why do the cats come to me when they’re hungry only? Is it selfish or instinct? - at other times, something affecting him emotionally.

But whereas his job as a singer and dancer sees him project his energy outwards, art offers the opposite. He’s often alone in his room when he works. As is for many artists, the right mood is fundamental. “When I’m in a good mood, I can’t draw,” he half-sighs. It’s also a multi-sensory process. “Smell or the temperature of the room, that really helps me draw. I light three or four candles. And when I draw, it’s kind of heavy, the feeling,” he explains. “It feels like you’re sinking into something, into yourself, and everything seems so small. Everything narrows down into me, my pencil, the paper.”

The more work he does in different creative mediums, the less Ten’s desire is to keep them separate. His art, dance and music influence each other, whether it’s customising his own collaboration pieces, a choreography video in an art gallery or dancing underwater with a film crew. When someone tells him that something won’t work or match up well, he refuses to let the idea go until he’s attempted it.

“I’ve had that since I was young. I think everything is possible. If you don’t try, you don’t know. When people say it’s impossible, like dancing in water for three minutes, I’m like, then let’s make it possible. You don’t need to walk a straight line [in life], you can walk this way,” Ten says, pointing along an invisible line before switching sharply in direction. “Then go back on track, go that way, come back. No one should tell you to walk in a line, I don’t see the point of that.”

© Clash Magazine

[acciomalfoy]

fool’s gold (cedric diggory x reader)

summary: you’ve been best friends forever, and valentines hasn’t meant much until now

a/n: GO FOLLOW @fromashescomephoenixes THIS IS YET ANOTHER COLLAB WITH HER!!!!! FOLLOW NOW AND CHECK OUT HER FICS!!!

-

“I’m still not happy with you,” I said, and Cedric only laughed. “Stop laughing!” I scowled, and he swung an arm around me.

“The tournament is well and truly over, Y/n, and you never have to go in the Black Lake again.” He grinned at me, and I only scowled.

“You could’ve gotten killed, or worse, lost the tournament!” As a member of Slytherin, winning is absolutely everything. Maybe Ced dying was a tad worse.

“But I won.” His shit-eating grin said it all, and I whacked his shoulder. 

“Get off of your high horse.” I shook my head, and he stood up. For some reason he had taken to sitting at the Slytherin table during meals, not that I was about to complain. 

“Look’s like Sprout’s about to charge me, I’ll see you in potions?” He asked, and I nodded. Potions was definitely my favourite class, and it had nothing to do with a greasy haired git, but everything to do with the golden boy I sat next to.

“See you then.” Not a second after he left Eleanor Flint clutched my shoulder.

“You’re totally dating! When did he ask you out? Was it right after Chang dumped him, or did he wait a while? Waiting is totally more classy, but I can see Diggory not wanting to wait.” Eleanor babbled, and I stared at her.

“We aren’t dating, and nor does he want to.” I said, but as soon as the words left my mouth I knew I had made a mistake.

“But you want to.” El screeched, and I quickly covered her mouth with my hand.

“No! Cedric still likes Cho, I’m certain of it.” I said, and El pushed away my hand.

“Rumour has it she broke up with Diggory because you were in the lake and not her. If Diggory liked her more than you she would have been in the lake.” El was batshit crazy, I was positive.

“I was in the lake because I’ve been best friends with Ced since first year. I’m not listening to this, El.” I stood up quickly, and before she could continue arguing with me I speed walked my way out of the Great Hall. Good thing too, since I realised that I had left my advanced potions textbook in my dorm. 

The dungeons weren’t too far from the Great Hall, and I made it there in what I would consider record-timing. My textbook was on my desk, and it wasn’t until I was leaving did I see the note on my bed. 

I gingerly picked up the note, all too aware of how the Weasley twins had it out for the Slytherin house, and froze.

I’m like a crow on a wire, you’re the shining distraction that makes me fly.

I spun around the room, as if the writer of the notes would be standing in front of me, but the room was still, void of life aside Eleanor’s plant that was bordering death anyway.

I shook my head and stuffed the note in one of my robe pockets. I really didn’t have time to contemplate shit like this. With my potions book in my bag, I turned and left the dorm, soon entering the common room and eventually the hallways of the dungeons. I didn’t have to go far, since the potions room was only a couple corridors over. I slid into my seat seconds before Snape swept into the room, and I looked at Cedric who was already staring at me.

“What?” I whispered, and he looked at Snape before replying.

“Where were you?” He asked, and I pulled out my quill, ink pot, and finally some parchment.

My dorm, why?

You left the hall in a rush. Why’d you go to your dorm?

I forgot my potions book. Besides, El was killing me and I had to get out of there.

He nodded thoughtfully, and I decided to listen to Snape for once in my life. Anything to keep my mind occupied.

Later that afternoon, we were sat in the dark, stuffy tower for divination. The scent of lavender and peppermint was already overcoming my senses to cloud my mind and make me feel extremely sleepy. According to Trelawny peppermint was meant to sharpen seeing abilities, however I’m not sure anything can sharpen the non-existent...

Luckily, this was another class with Cedric. Merlin knows why we chose to continue it after OWLs, but I suppose that’s the Slytherin in me again: proving I can do it, and do it best.

Right as I’m preparing to drift into my sleepy daze, Ced nudges me. 

“Trelawny. Five o’clock,” he mouths, nodding his head in the direction of my left shoulder.

“Hello dears!” She springs up, slightly like a jack in a box. I entertain the thought of telling her so, but she cuts me off as I open my mouth.

“Have you seen anything in your teacups yet?” She questions, staring at us in a way that is a touch too dramatic for my taste. 

“Erm, yes.” I respond, trying to save Cedric’s skin since he just saved mine. Grabbing his emerald green tea cup, I grasp the golden yellow handle, and twist it three times. I’m not sure why... it just seemed right.

I glance at my book, but decide to wing it. 

“I see a knight- or er. Perhaps a hero?” Trelawny nods, her eyelids fluttering as she rests them close and furrows her brow. 

“No, it’s a knight in shining armour.” I nod, settling on this seeing. Cedric glances up slightly at the word ‘shining’ but shrugs it off quickly. He smirks at me,

“Oh, and what does that symbolise y/n?” His eyes flash slightly with mischief.

“It means you should keep your big mouth shut!” I glare at him, but can’t help cracking into a smile after a moment in his laughing gaze.

“Well dears,” Trelawny chirps at us, grabbing for the cup. “Indeed! I see...”

She gasps as I lazily flick my wand to float the cup off of the ground. I still wish I had remembered this trick when we were working with crystal balls...

“Oh Professor!” I groan miserably, despite the traces of thick sarcasm. “Please don’t say I’m due to die,” I throw myself back in my chair while Cedric tries to hold in a snort.

“I’m afraid you are my dear, in a most unfortunate incident involving a revolving door and a popsicle...”

—

“Charms is the worst.” Cedric groaned from beside me, and I nodded. Charms was fucking boring is what it was.

“Flitwick said it was a practical today.” I remembered, and Cedric brightened up considerably.

“About connecting minds?” He asked, and I nodded.

“I think so, partners?” I answered and asked, but I already knew what Cedric was going to say.

“Howdy.” He tipped an imaginary hat at me, and I sniggered.

“Attention seventh years! I’d like you all to get into pairs, and I will form the mind connecting spell. It will last for just one minute, and there may be minor discomfort as the minute comes to a close. Jordan and Berg, you’re first up.” Flitwick began the charm on the first Hufflepuff and Slytherin duo, and they laughed excitedly as the charm went into effect.

“Diggory and L/n, let’s get to it. Face one another and stare into each other’s eyes.” Flitwick instructed, and Ced beamed at me as we stared at each other.

“Now hold each other’s hands, please.” I felt myself growing sweaty at the thought, but Cedric took my hands with ease, and without breaking eye contact.

His grey eyes were more startling than ever, and I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell the pretty boy was thinking.

“Ut copulare,” Flitwick began murmuring until out of the corner of my eye I watched a flying wand hit the professor. “Oh!” Flitwick let out a startled cry, and Cedric and I nodded simultaneously as we broke eye contact to stare at him.

“Uh oh.” He tittered nervously, and I swallowed. The last time I heard a professor say uh oh was when Slughorn brewed a de-aging potion and it exploded on one of my classmates, rendering them to infancy for a good three weeks. Rumour had it she still used the pacifier from time to time.

“Do you feel okay?” Flitwick asked, and I nodded.

“I feel fine, Professor. In fact, I’ve never felt better.” This was a lie. I had woken up with a knot the size of a rats nest in my hair this morning, as well as having forgotten to do the potions homework last night. However, my teacher looked relieved, so I smiled at him.

“Same here.” Cedric added, and Flitwick sighed.

“Just in case the spell worked, I won’t be able to perform another one on you until at least a week from now.” Flitwick said, and with that he moved to another pair.

“Well I’d say that went well.” Cedric said, and I snickered.

“About as well as your date with Cho.” I was talking about his final date with Cho, which ended in her pouring a milkshake on his head. 

“You’re going to be the death of me.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, and I stuck my tongue out. 

—

“Salazar, what’s the reasoning for all these decorations?” I asked as we left charms. Pink and red decorations hung from ceiling to floor, and it was then that I realised it was Valentines next week.

“Every year the house elves go overboard. We should talk to them about it sometime.” Cedric wrinkled his nose, and I nodded. This was just too much.

“What’s going on over there?” I pointed to a circle that had formed, and it looked like two people were in the centre of it.

“Only one way to find out.” Cedric said, and we slowly approached it. Adrian, a fellow Slytherin, nodded at me.

“What’s going on?” I asked him, and he gestured to the pair inside the circle.

“They’re trapped until they kiss, because a rose fell from the ceiling right in front of them. It’s magically binding, so we could be here a while.” Adrian explained, and I tugged on Cedric’s arm.

“Did you hear that? It’s like mistletoe, they can’t leave til they kiss. It only happens when two people are in love.” I repeated, and Cedric nodded as we walked away from the circle.

“I barely survived the mistletoe.” Cedric said with a shiver, and I laughed as I remembered the girls that had chased Cedric down while waving mistletoe. It had been a sight for sore eyes.

“It’s okay, Ceddie. Time for lunch!”

—

“Could we maybe eat by the lake?” He asked, already having dodged three eager third years. The Great Hall was as busy as ever, and I noticed I myself was subject to several glares.

“I suppose.” I dramatically consented, grabbing two pumpkin pasties and some carrots with hummus from the nearest table. “Let’s go,” I led the charge. 

A particularly determined looking Goyle stood directly in my path, stationed by a suspicious rose. I debated how best to get around, when I felt my feet lift off of the floor altogether.

“Cedric!” I shouted as I was levitated a good ten feet across the hall towards the door. I could only hear Cedric’s laughter as he ran below me, and I ducked as I saw the doorway coming straight for my head.

“Mr. Diggory!” McGonagall was heard shouting across the hall, however we were already halfway to the lake.

Dissolving in a fit of laughter, we sank onto the bank of the lake. 

“Ah, back where it all began.” Cedric grinned towards me. I could think of a great deal of memories surrounding this lake, but I wasn’t entirely sure of any that had marked the beginning of something.

“What began?” I nudged him with my elbow and took a rather ‘unladylike’ bite of my pumpkin pasty.

Cerdric shrugged, and responded by taking a large mouthful of his own. He then grinned with a pumpkin paste covering his teeth.

“Ugh, you’re disgusting!” I threw a pebble at him gently. He simply transformed it into a golden finch. And so, another calm, sunny day was passed by the lake.

••••

After lunch, I took a quick trip to the dorms while Cedric was in quidditch practise. I needed to finish this potions essay, and only one person could save me.

“Come on, Y/n! You’re so slow.” Pansy teased as she speed-walked to the dorm, and I only huffed.

“These legs weren’t made for walking!” I shouted as she entered the portrait, and the only response was the faint echo of her laughter.

By the time I stepped through the portrait, the common-room was empty aside a few stray kids from the years below. I walked through the short hallway to our dorm, and Pansy was staring directly at me as I came in, a note in her hand. 

“I’m the first to admit that I’m reckless, I get lost in your beauty and I can’t see two feet in front of me.” Pansy read it aloud, and I froze.

“What the fuck is this?” She asked, and I shrugged.

“I don’t know. I got another one yesterday, I kinda forgot about it.” I explained, and Pansy raised an eyebrow.

“That’s sus, but whatever. Come on, let’s get to the library!”

—

“Holy Hippogriff!” I jumped as I felt a hard impact in my lower back. 

“You okay y/n?” Pansy frowned as I rubbed my back. I frowned back, puzzled by this unexplained pain.

“I think so? Something just hit me in the back,” I explained, glancing around for the remnants of a prank of some sort. None appeared. Pansy shrugged and returned to her potions work. I gathered my stuff, and debated where to head next. 

It was the end of the day, and I had completed all of my homework. So I was blessed with some nice free time. In a last second decision I veered towards the Quidditch pitch to meet Cedric after his practice. 

“Hey y/n!”  A sweet voice called out as I was about to duck out of the entrance hall.

“Hello Holly!” I spun on my heel. Holly was always quite nice to me, even though most of the Gryffindors avoided me. “How are you?” 

“Swell thanks,” she nodded. “Just wanted to say congrats to you and Diggory! You two are so cute together!” I blushed all the way up to my ears.

“No I-“ she was already speeding down the hall back towards the tower. I sighed and continued towards the pitch.

••••

“Y/n!” Cedric waved across the field towards me. I noticed him limping slightly, but didn’t think anything of it. 

“How was practice Ced?” I asked, and he only shrugged.

“Managed to take a bludger to the back, but it wasn’t too bad.” He said as he approached me. 

“Doesn’t look good if you’re limping. Want to go to Pomfrey’s?” I gestured towards the various windowsills side by side that was the infirmary, and Cedric shook his head.

“I’m fine, Hooch said it would be worn off by tomorrow. Did you get all your homework done?” He asked, and I saw his face flinch.

“That’s it. We’re going to the infirmary. Give me your arm. Besides, my back has been aching since the library. Maybe I can get it checked out.” He held his arm out curiously, and I wrapped it around my shoulder so I could help him put less pressure on his leg.

“Thanks, Y/n.” He said sheepishly, and I smiled at him.

“I got all my homework done, by the way. Pansy even helped me with the last part of the potions essay that we struggled to do, so I’ll explain it tonight or tomorrow.” I said, and Cedric nodded.

“Sounds good, let’s go.” 

—

“For some reason you’ve both bruised the exact same area in your lower back. Do you two have anything you’d like to share with me?” Pomfrey stared at us, and Cedric laughed.

“It's a complete coincidence!” He said, and I nodded, but I was mentally frowning.

There’s no such thing as coincidences.

—

“One day you’re going to spill the boiling water all over yourself.” I said as I watched Cedric in a feeble attempt to pour the water from 15 inches above into his teacup.

“I’m not the quidditch captain for nothing-ow!” Cedric yelped at the same time I hissed, and I quickly inspected my wrist.

“Some of it just landed on me!” I glared at him, and he stared blankly back.

“It landed on me, Y/n. You’re across the table it couldn’t have splashed you.” Cedric said slowly, and I realised my wrist was bone-dry.

“I swear to Godric I felt it hit me.” I said earnestly, and Cedric nodded.

“I don’t doubt it. Shall we go back to Pomfrey?” Cedric asked, and I shook my head.

“It’s probably nothing. Lighten up, Ced, we’re fine. We’ve got the lovely class of charms next, followed by Sprout’s endless herbology lectures.” I nudged Cedric with my elbow, but he still seemed upset.

“Hey, what’s up?” I leaned closer and murmured, and he leant his head on mine.

“What if it’s not nothing? What if we’ve been cursed somehow?” I wished I could erase the worry from his face.

“I highly doubt that. Hogwarts is one of the safest places ever, and if someone was going around cursing people we would definitely know about it.” I tried my best to reassure him, and he sighed.

“Okay, dipshit. I guess I trust you.”

— 

“Odds on you asking Sprout what the word sex means?” I asked, and Cedric laughed.

“Ten.” I looked at him in surprise. 

“You sure? That’s pretty low.” He nodded.

“Why wouldn’t I be sure?” He asked, and I snickered.

“No reason. Three, two, one!”

“Eight!” We both shouted, and I screeched with laughter. Ced was done for.

“No! Rematch!” He said desperately, and I tried to control my laughter.

“Nope! Go ask!” I put my hand over my mouth in an attempt to control my laughter again, and Cedric reluctantly raised his hand.

“Professor? I have a question.” Cedric called out, and Sprout turned around to face us.

“Yes dear?” She smiled at him, and I nudged Cedric’s leg.

“What’s sex?” The entirety of the Hufflepuff-Slytherin class erupted into screams, and Sprout gasped.

“Mr Diggory!” She exclaimed, and I genuinely thought I was going to piss myself.

“Well, as my head of house, I thought you would be the best teacher to ask.” He said, and I noticed his cheeks were bright red. He shot a glare at me before smiling innocently at Sprout. 

“If you stay after class I might be able to explain, however, we are currently in a herbology lesson!” She looked like she was about to cry, and I slapped Cedric’s arm as I laughed.

“You’re insane!” I said, and the smile he gave me made my breath get caught in my throat.

-

The next day I ran into Cedric just before potions. He was about to trip right over his own two feet, when I caught his hand. 

"Morning, clumsy!" I smirked slightly as he brushed off the imaginary dust he had acquired during his slip. 

"Morning, y/n," he mumbled, lacking his regular enthusiasm. After chatting for a minute or two he started to back away slowly. 

"Hey, I just have to run to the bathroom. I'll be back in time for class though!" He yelled over his shoulder now. He started to run down the stony corridor, however I realised after a moment that he was heading the wrong way. 

"Wait! Ced, you're heading towards the common rooms!" I tried to yell after him, but figured he'd learn it in a moment anyway. It's not like he hadn't learned this before either. He came to the Slytherin common room almost as much as I went to the Hufflepuff one. 

I followed his footsteps, figuring I would be able to talk to him on his way back. What I didn't expect was to see a single slip of parchment fluttering to the floor, and Cedric nowhere in sight. 

I bent down quickly to pick it up, crinkling the hard corners with my anxious movements. 

I’m like a boat on the water, you’re the raise on the waves that calm my mind.

It was in the same, scrawling writing as the other notes I had received, and the paper was exactly the same to all of the other's I had received. 

Was it Cedric? I flipped the paper over and looked at the blank back. He couldn't possibly love me. Could he? 

I smiled at the message, remembering when we met up over break once. We had taken his father’s boat sailing, and had somehow managed to capsize on three different occasions. I heard footsteps coming down the corridor, and I shoved the message in my pocket.

"Hey!" Cedric called out as he came near.

“Hi, Ced. Or should I say boat on the water?” I twirled the piece of paper around my fingers as he approached, and I watched as his face fell.

“That’s not mine.” He said quickly, and I raised my eyebrows.

“Hmm. If that’s true, then I better go search for my secret admirer.” I grinned as he took the bait and grabbed my hand, tugging me closer to him.

“How long have you known?” Ced asked, and I shrugged.

“I had my suspicions on Finch-Fletchley, but you proved me wrong with this note,” I laughed at Cedric’s reaction. “I’m joking of course, Ceddie. I had no idea who it was, but I’m glad it’s you.”

“Wait, really?” He seriously was the cutest. The way he was looking at me right now made me feel like the luckiest girl in the world; then again, I just might be.

“Of course I am. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve been trying to drop hints for four years.” Cedric laughed at my confession, and I elbowed him.

“Oi! I was only laughing because I’ve been dropping hints for five. I figured in our last year at school I may as well confess that I’m in love with you.” My breath caught in my throat, and he raised his hand to my face only to brush a piece of hair out of my eyes.

“You’re in love with me?” I asked, and he nodded.

“It’s practically impossible not to be. Now that you know it’s me, I was wondering if you wanted to be my valentine?” Cedric asked, and a rustling from above made us look up.

A red rose had just bloomed.

-

It was valentine's day. Of course, just about everywhere was packed with starry eyed couples. We had opted to stay at Hogwarts, and have a sweet picnic together. Cedric had taken care of the setting, and I had found all of the food. 

It wasn't a bad effort. In my opinion he went slightly overboard with the pink, but I did appreciate the various hints of green he had added with the plates and napkins. Plus, I had brought plenty of food from the kitchens (which Cedric had shown me in my fourth year) 

We settled down on the edge of the lake, and I took a moment to appreciate the sunny day, and the time I could finally spend with Cedric not just as friends, but as a couple. I laid down, and gently rested my head of Cedric's lap.

"We should have done this a lot sooner," I joked, but I meant it as well. Knowing I could have been dating Cedric for months before now was a little bittersweet. I tried to remember that at least we were here now together. 

I wasn't exactly sure if I believed in soulmates, but I knew that if I had a soulmate, it would be Cedric. 

"Thank goodness you found the note I was going to hide the other day," Cedric smiled.

"That's true, you're no Gryffindor," I teased. "Thank goodness!" I stuck my tongue out in mock disgust. 

And that's when things took a turn. I watched as Cho came up to us, with a nasty frown on her face. Her frown darkened our picnic almost instantly.

“Fuck.” I breathed under my voice. What in Merlin’s name could she possibly want with me and Cedric? Obviously we were about to find out.

“Ceddie, honey!” She sang sweetly as she came closer to us. Cedric shot me a look and quickly set a reassuring, soft kiss on my lips before getting up.

“Cho. What are you doing here?” He asked, sounding incredibly confused. He rubbed his hand through his hair, anxious about her mission

“I came to rescue you!” She grinned innocently. As she reached for her hand I couldn’t help myself.

“Hey! Back off!” She shot me a burning glare, and sent a stinging spell at my wrist.

“Shit,” Cedric and I spoke in unison as we both grabbed our wrists. I muttered a healing spell or two as I glared towards Cho.

“Look, Cho, go away. Okay?” Cedric tried to kindly shoo her away. “I’m perfectly happy with y/n!” I smiled softly, glad to here Cedric say that.

“It’s okay Ceddie! I realised exactly why it was her in that lake and not me!” Cho chirrped. She sounded quite proud of herself, and I was curious what on earth she had come up with.

“Yeah, it’s because I love her!” Cedric explained. Cho let out a shrill laugh, and patted his arm.

“No silly!” She smiled sweetly, as if explaining to a young child. “You THINK you love her!” She shot another laser like look towards me.

“I’m pretty sure I know who I love Cho!” Cedric’s face began to harden as he realised this wasn’t going to be easy to brush off.

“She used a love potion on you!” Cho screeched, grabbing hold of Cedric.

“I said let go of him!” I got up off the blanket and walked over.

“She’s best in our potions class, she’s loved you since we were 13, and she’s a fucking Slytherin!” Cho explained desperately! She had small, glistening tears in her eyes now. I almost felt pity for her, but I couldn’t.

I walked over slowly, deciding exactly what I should say.

“Being a Slytherin doesn’t make me evil Cho, just like you being a Ravenclaw doesn’t make you smart!” I frowned. I hated how much the stereotypes of our houses defined us. “People aren’t able to be perfectly categorised between four groups!” Cho glared and jabbed her wand at me.

Before I realised what was happening, Cedric jumped between me and the flash of white light, but it couldn't stop the spell for some reason. I doubled over in excruciating pain that hit right around my belly button. It was as if my stomach had turned inside out and began to burn the surrounding flesh. I glanced over, and Cedric was in obvious pain as well. 

I couldn’t contain the whimper that escaped from my mouth, and Cedric met my eyes.

“How the hell did you hit Y/n with that?” He spat out, while Cho only stared at us in shock and what looked like panic. After Cedric let out what sounded like a painful groan, Cho waved her wand and relief flooded me.

“Tell me! How did you do it?” Now that he was able to stand up without pain, Cedric got incredibly close to her, towering over her. 

“I-I don’t know! You jumped in front, she must have been faking it!” I watched as Cedric lowered the manicured finger she had pointed at me, and whispered something in her ear. The effect in had on her was instantaneous; she slowly stepped away before turning tail and bolting away.

“We need to go to Pomfrey.” Cedric spoke without looking at me, though when I clasped his hand he squeezed mine tightly.

-

“I don’t know what to tell the pair of you. Have you been hit by an unknown spell in the past month or so?” Pomfrey looked tired, I noticed.

I wondered how often she slept.

“Not that I can think of.” Cedric said, and I nodded. 

“Unless someone’s hit us without us noticing, then no.” I added, and Pomfrey sighed.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with the two of you. I’ve only heard of cases like these, never seen one myself. I think there’s only been four or five documented.” She explained, causing Ced and I to exchange glances.

“Well, what happened to those people?” I asked the obvious question, since my lovely boyfriend clearly wasn’t going to. Pomfrey shifted slightly.

“One person in each pair died before a full analysis and case study could be completed.” I almost laughed at the look on Cedric’s face until I realised that one of us was totally going to die soon.

“Well, my darling, it was lovely knowing you.” I patted him on the back, and he wrapped his arms around me, encasing me with love.

“What can we do?” Cedric asked, and Pomfrey shook her head.

“Not a whole lot. Try and remember if the pair of you have been struck by a spell in the past though.” 

-

It took fourteen seconds after we left the infirmary to Cedric to slap his forehead.

“I think we’re stupid.” He said, and I raised an eyebrow.

“Speak for yourself. Personally, I’m the smartest person I know.” He snickered, and I frowned. Where was the joke?

“Flitwick hit us with that spell, remember? And the spell was interrupted halfway through, which created a new spell entirely.” Cedric explained, and I sighed.

“I think we’re stupid too.”

-

We'd spent another lovely 10 years being stupid together. Sure we'd had our ups and downs, but we always knew that we were soulmates.

 Since we had found out about the spell, we've helped Flitwick research whatever charm had put us in the situation of feeling each others pain. It was actually quite strange when I was pregnant with our son, Cedric had noticed the contractions first. 

 After spending a couple of years with Flitwick researching the spell, we'd moved to Scotland and gotten married. Life had been quite pleasant. We owned a small farm where we raised cows and hippogriffs alike. Our son was now 6 years old, and had already decided that he wanted to be in Slytherin 'Just like mummy!'  

Currently we were sitting in our favorite wizarding restaurant. I gazed over towards Cedric's kind face as he helped our son go through the maze on the children's menu. I grinned over at my two lovely boys, and nudged Cedric with my foot under the table.

"Hm?" He looked up, and our son copied him. I smiled towards them both, and silently thanked Merlin that I had these two lovely boys in my life.

"What do you want to eat?" I held up the menu, and raised my eyebrows. Cedric and our son looked at each other and then looked back towards be in sync. 

"PIZZA!" They said together. I giggled and they quickly joined in. 

Just as we share pain, Cedric and I share the multitude of joys that have bloomed in our lives. And that made the joy all the better.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s Same Path Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Gavin’s Qixi Collection: Date / Call 1 ♡ / Call 2 / Records / Event / Special Call

Legend has it that the Qilin is a lucky beast. If you can obtain a Qilin, all bad luck will be eliminated. 

MC: Does the Qilin really exist...

Before me is a towering mountain. I’ve walked for four days and four nights in order to get here. 

The elder of the temple had pointed to this mountain on a map and told me that if I crossed this path, I’d be able to see a Qilin.

MC: May the gods bless me, that I may find the Qilin soon. Otherwise...

I take a deep breath, entering this legendary mystical mountain. 

The mountain is incredibly quiet and deep, and it looks as though no one has ever visited. 

After exerting much strength, I only manage to climb halfway. I lean against a tree and gasp for breath, patting my grumbling stomach. 

MC: So hungry... and I’ve finished the food I brought...

When I raise my head, I see something gleaming not too far away. Curious, I walk over. 

MC: It’s a pond!

Schools of red carp swim unhurriedly in the clear water. 

MC: Great! I wouldn’t have to worry about being hungry now!

I carefully bunch up my skirt, stepping barefoot into the stream. 

There used to be a small stream in the village where I would often fish. My skills can finally come in handy.

Sunlight wisps down the shadows of trees. In the cool water, I hold my breath and bend down, stealthily approaching a fish which is swimming slowly. 

Plong--

A small stone flies through the air and pelts into the water. The fish disappears in an instant. 

MC: ! 

MC: Where did that stone come from?

I scan my surroundings, but fail to find anything out of the ordinary.

Not giving much thought to it, I once again focus on my grand undertaking of catching a fish.

Another red carp swims over to my feet lazily. Perhaps due to the sparse number of visitors, these fish aren’t very wary of humans. 

MC: Since you bumped into me yourself, you can’t blame me.

I stretch out my hands joyfully, the tip of my nose almost smelling the scent of grilled fish. 

Plong--

With another soft sound, a stone accurately plops near my feet, channelling a wave of ripples. 

The red carp immediately swims away.

MC: Who is it?!

I turn around angrily, certain that someone is causing trouble for me. 

The trees in the mountain are lush, and everything is so calm and quiet that even the sound of a falling leaf can be heard clearly.

MC: You better show yourself obediently. When I catch you, you’re doomed!

I roll up my sleeves fiercely, preparing to return to the shore. However, I end up stepping into mud.

MC: !

My body lurches forward. In the middle of my panic, I see a white figure flashing across the green mountains and forests. 

The bamboo forest sways, and a soft robe brushes across my cheek. My waist is held firmly by a pair of arms. 

At this moment, my five senses are amplified. Water flows underneath my feet, and I smell a clear and cold breath. I blink, shifting the sleeves away from my face.

And I meet a pair of amber eyes.

The wind coursing through the South Mountain, the leaves falling into the pond, and thousands of sceneries all pause before him, becoming accompaniments to his wilful eyes.

MC: ...who are you?

??: The person you were looking for just now.

He places me on the shore before looking me up and down.After verifying that I’m harmless, he turns around to leave. 

MC: Hey, young gentleman.

[Trivia] MC calls him 公子 (“gong zi”), which typically refers to a pampered son of a wealthy family.

I stop him.

MC: Thank you for just now!

??: It was no trouble. There’s no need for thanks. 

MC: Are you looking for the Qilin too?

??: No.

His response is short, but he suddenly pauses in his steps after brushing past me.

??: You're injured.

MC: Hm?

Following his line of sight, I discover that the sole of my foot had been cut by something at some point, and is currently bleeding. 

MC: It hurts!

??: ...you didn’t seem to feel it just now. 

MC: It suddenly started hurting once you mentioned it. 

??: ...

He squats down, signalling that I should show him my calf. 

MC: Young gentleman, you-

While checking my wound, he interrupts me. 

??: My name is Gavin. 

He applies some medicinal herbs. When he lifts his head to look at me, the gold coloured ornament used to tie his hair glints with a brilliant light. 

Gavin: I’m not called “young gentleman”.

-

Once my wound has been wrapped, Gavin stands and casts me a glance.

Gavin: The water here has poison in it. If you aren’t careful, the poison will spread even further. Even though your wound isn’t serious, it’s better to rest for a while before moving again. 

MC: All right... um... Gavin.

Gavin: What’s wrong? 

MC: Why didn’t you let me catch the fish here? 

Gavin: All the living creatures on this mountain have a certain spirituality. It’s best not to disturb them.

MC: But...

I can’t help but swallow my saliva, rubbing my stomach which has been starving since this morning. I raise my head and toss Gavin a pitiful glance.

MC: You can’t bear to see these spiritual fish get eaten, but you can bear to see an innocent young lady starve to death on this deep mountain?

Gavin: ...

Gavin: You can choose to leave this place.

Rays of light break free from the dense leaves, illuminating Gavin’s face.

Gavin: There’s a village not far from the bottom of the mountain. Head down the mountain now, and you should make it in time for dinner. 

Gavin’s indifferent expression tells me that I wouldn’t get to eat grilled fish today.

MC: Sigh, I guess there’s no other choice then. 

I scan my surroundings, then bend down to pluck a dandelion. I eat the dandelion puff, and a faint sweet scent of greenery diffuses in the air.

Gavin’s eyebrows arch upwards involuntarily, and shock flashes in his eyes. 

Gavin: Human... [coughs], why do you eat everything?

MC: It’s nothing to fuss about. You don’t allow me to catch fish, so I have no choice but to pluck these dandelions to eat. This much is allowed, right?

There are many dandelions in the area behind Gavin. Perhaps this mountain is truly filled with aura. They are much bigger than normal dandelions. 

MC: It’s not convenient for me to move with my leg in this state. Could you help me pluck a few? They’re just behind you.

I lean over to point, but Gavin suddenly turns his head, finally looking at me seriously for the first time. 

Gavin: Are you sure you want to stay here? 

MC: Of course. I already said that I'm here to look for the Qilin. I won’t leave until I find it.

Gavin lowers his eyes slightly and looks at me, a few strands of hair falling on the side of his face. 

Gavin: These are not the only edible things on the mountain. Once your leg recovers, I’ll take you to find other kinds of food. By then, if you still want to search for the Qilin, I’ll bring you there.

-

MC: Are the fruits on this tree green plums?

Looking at the tree filled with green plums, I turn around excitedly and ask.

[Trivia] Plums symbolise perseverance, hope, and beauty thriving in adversity. As plum trees blossom between two seasons, it is also seen as a symbol of spring - bringing warmth, transition, and the promise of fruitfulness.

Slight hesitation flashes across Gavin’s eyes.  

Gavin: They should be. 

He reaches out, plucks a few, and hands them to me. 

Gavin: Try it. 

Not putting much thought into it, I take the fruit from his hand. After wiping it on my sleeve, I take a bite. 

MC: Oo!

Gavin: How is it? 

MC: It’s so sour!

I cover my face to hide my expression, which I’ve lost control of due to the sourness of the fruit. I splutter, making “pooh, pooh” sounds. 

MC: This fruit is obviously not ripe yet!

A smile flashes in Gavin’s eyes, but he conceals it with a cough. 

Gavin: Is it very sour? 

He holds up a fruit and gives it a bite. Then, he nods. 

Gavin: It is pretty sour. 

MC: ...

My eyes trail from the silver coloured patterns on his clothes to the expensive-looking jade ring on his waist. I sigh knowingly.

MC: So you’re truly a son from a noble family. Just from a glance, I can already tell you haven’t gone through many troubles in life. 

I mutter softly, and Gavin casts a glance at me. 

Gavin: What did you say? 

MC: Ah, nothing much. 

He looks exquisite - probably a noble son from a family near the mountain, which explains why he doesn’t have experience differentiating sweet and sour fruits.

I raise the green fruit in front of Gavin, and speak in a serious tone. 

MC: These types of green, hard fruits are not ripe. You can’t eat them. Next time, don’t eat them by mistake. They’re really sour. 

With an exaggerated expression, I spend a long time explaining this to Gavin.

Gavin watches me. Sunlight pours down on us, illuminating his smiling side profile.

Gavin: Mm, I got it. 

His eyes seem to contain the entire amber of summer. Even if he simply looks at me with a glance as light as the wind and clouds, it’s enough for me to get lost in them. 

MC: Gavin, why did you agree to look for the Qilin? 

Gavin: You’re very persistent. 

Gavin: I’ve never met someone who would put so much effort into a legend, so... persistent. 

For some reason, Gavin’s face turns a faint red when he says this. 

MC: Your face seems to have turned red? 

Gavin: You misperceived.

He coughs, then turns his head slightly. 

Gavin: I remember that in the legend, only people who have crossed the Southern Border at the top of the mountain can find the Qilin.

MC: Mm, that’s right. But this legend is only found in the ancient books of the temple. How did you know about this?

Gavin doesn’t respond, walking in front of me. 

Gavin: I’m the only one who is familiar with this terrain. Let’s go, I’ll take you to the top of the mountain.

-

MC: We should be reaching soon, right? We've been walking for so long. 

Gavin: It will be in front after we cross this mountain stream. 

With the tips of his toes, Gavin flies across the river surface, leaving me stunned at the other side of the river. 

Gavin: What’s wrong? 

MC: ...have you ever considered that not everybody has your skills. For example, me.

Separated by the swift current and steep rocks, Gavin and I look at each other. 

Finally, Gavin reaches out his hand to me. 

Gavin: I’ll catch you from here. You just have to take the first step. 

MC: Y-you said it. You definitely have to catch me. 

Trembling, I take the first step. My toes touch a stone in the water. 

Gavin stands on the other side of the river, maintaining his posture of reaching out to me. Separated by the water, his gaze gives me an incomparable peace of mind.

At this moment, the stone underneath my foot starts to loosen.

MC: Ah-

I frantically attempt to stabilise myself, but lose my balance and am about to fall into the water. 

Gavin: [in the gentlest of gentle voices] Don’t panic.

Along with his voice, he stands on the stone in the middle of the river, wrapping me entirely in his arms.

MC: Phew... that scared me. 

Gavin: Are you very frightened?

I look up from his arms, and see an almost-smirk on his face. 

MC: Such a deep river - it’d be strange if I wasn’t frightened. 

Gavin: I see.

MC: Huh? 

Gavin: You have been pulling on my clothes. And you haven’t loosened your grip even till now. 

Only now do I realise that both my hands are gripping onto Gavin’s clothes tightly. Because of the amount of force exerted, his clothes have gotten ruffled, revealing his nice chest. 

I hurriedly avert my eyes, my face turning red. 

MC: [coughs] That is... I’m sorry.

I hurriedly retract my hands, following Gavin as we step onto the final path.

-

Gavin: We’re here. This is the other side of the mountain. 

Gavin turns around. The look in his eyes carry a certain peace and quiet, as though he has known the answer from the start. 

Gavin: Looking at this, are you disappointed? 

At the other side of the mountain, there isn’t a Qilin beast. There isn’t even a pathway.

What’s in front of me is a cliff of ten thousand feet. An ancient wind brushes past my dress, as though mocking humans for overestimating their strength.

MC: So, a legend is just a legend...

While I speak, a sudden wave of dizziness overcomes me. My vision becomes blurry, and even Gavin turns into several shadows. 

I try to stabilise myself, but countless images of dandelions appear in front of my eyes. I suddenly recall the dandelion I ate in the afternoon.

MC: Gavin... I think the dandelions here are poisonous...

Before I can finish speaking, I feel like a bow snapped into two. Suddenly, I fall off the side of the cliff.

The howling wind sweeps past my ears. My arms hit the sharp rocks, drawing long streaks of blood. 

The sky grows increasingly distant, and there’s a burgeoning fear in my heart.

Gavin: Hold onto me tightly!

Suddenly, a white figure steps off the cliff, catching me while I’m in the abyss.

MC: Gavin...

Under the Baizhang Cliff, the hand Gavin holds mine with is searing and powerful.

But my eyes involuntarily fall onto the horns that have appeared on his forehead. 

They are golden coloured, and have an ornamentation I have never seen before. 

I clearly remember what was written in the ancient books of the temple--

In the South Mountain, the Qilin appears from the cliffs. The Qilin has horns on its forehead. It circles the clouds, and the world is peaceful.

It turns out I had already found the Qilin from the very start.

Gavin: It’s okay now. I’ll bring you up.

Gavin carries me up into the clouds. I feel the poison spreading in my body, and I'm unable to make a sound. I lean into Gavin’s arms and lose consciousness. 

-

By the time I wake up, the moon is already at its peak. I open my eyes, and what I see is clothing with silver patterns.

MC: !!!

I’m sleeping in Gavin’s arms!

Gavin is leaning against a rock, his large clothes wrapping me in his arms. 

I turn my head slightly. His hand is supporting the back of my head, and he looks to be in a light sleep. 

My movements cause him to stir. A pair of brilliant eyes, which opened suddenly, look into mine. 

Gavin: Don’t move. Your poison has just been detoxified. 

His voice sounds a little weak. 

I touch his hand, and it’s extremely cold. 

MC: Gavin, were you the one who detoxified the poison?

Gavin: It happened too suddenly. I gave you my blood to drink.

His right hand is hidden under his large sleeve, and I can only see some traces of blood. 

His face is as pale as snow, and I feel worried. 

MC: How... much blood did you let me drink? Why is your face so pale? 

Gavin looks at me, revealing a slightly resigned smile in his eyes.

Gavin: Not much. I have a unique physical state, so my wounds don’t heal easily. It’s difficult to stop the bleeding.

So what’s written in the ancient books is true. While the Qilin is a harbinger of auspiciousness, it also bears the consequence - the slightest wound would lead to unstoppable bleeding. 

Even though he already knew this would happen, he still helped me detoxify the poison, even though we simply met by chance. 

Noise resounds from beneath the mountain, and several flaming torches gather on the mountain path.

??: There was a sudden golden light on this mountain today. The Qilin must have appeared! This time, we must definitely find it. Only then can we save our village!

Hearing this, I’m shocked.

The people from the temple arrived so quickly...

As the lights linger, Gavin straightens up, his eyes cold.

Looking at his pale complexion and the traces of blood on his sleeve, I block his path.

Gavin: What’s wrong? 

MC: I know that you’re the Qilin.

I stare straight at Gavin. 

Gavin: So? 

Several images flash across my mind--

The moment he flew down and carried me in his arms. The seriousness on his face when he squatted down and tended to my wound. The cold wind under the steep cliff...

MC: So, let me help you.

Gavin lowers his eyes slightly and looks at me, a complex emotion in his eyes. 

Gavin: I don’t need your help. Those mortals at the foot of the mountain were sent by the temple. They have always been searching for the Qilin. The scent on your body is the same as theirs. You’re from the temple too, aren’t you.

The trees are silent. The cold moon makes no sound. The god I’ve been searching for is standing before me, robes stained with the heavy night. 

Right now, I have so many things to say. But under Gavin’s penetrating gaze, I only convey one thought.

MC: When you rescued me, I decided to stop looking for the Qilin. I... I never wanted to hurt you.

There’s a subtle movement in his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything. 

Something occurs to me then, and I can’t help but ask softly.

MC: So from the moment I stepped into this mountain, you already knew who I was... Then why did you still help me find the Qilin? And why did you rescue me? And reveal your real identity in front of me... Weren’t you afraid that I’d be conspiring with them...

Gavin: I wasn’t afraid.

He stares at me. His pale face doesn’t hide his sarcasm. 

Gavin: For thousands of years, you weren’t the only one to climb the mountain in search of the Qilin. But no one ever found it. Why do you think this is so?

His eyes cut through the night and pause on my face. His tone is calm. 

Gavin: Taking you to look for the Qilin was merely to let you lose hope early and return home. Revealing my true identity in front of you later on... that was something I didn’t expect. 

In that moment, I understand everything. 

As long as he doesn’t take the initiative to get close to humans, even if thousands and ten thousands of years pass, no one will be able to find the Qilin.

A god who could have chosen to hide away had rescued me multiple times. He saved me - someone who was looking for him as well. 

The thoughts in my heart become increasingly resolute. I meet Gavin’s eyes and say firmly.

MC: Since that’s the case, let me help make the Qilin remain a legend forever.

Gavin is slightly shocked, but he quickly turns his head, rejecting me.

Gavin: No. If you help me, the people from the temple will make things difficult for you.

MC: That wouldn’t happen. I’m the temple elder’s only direct disciple. I have a pretty high position, so no one will make things difficult for me. As long as I say that I couldn’t find the Qilin, they will leave.

I pat my shoulder, pretending that it would be an easy feat. 

With my slightly anxious expression, Gavin finally agrees. 

Gavin: All right. I trust you. But you have to guarantee your own safety.

I nod vigorously.

He takes off the jade ring on his waist and places the warm and clean jade ornament into my hand. 

Gavin: No matter what, this time, you’re the one saving me. If there are any wishes you want fulfilled, just shatter it, and I will appear.

Gavin’s eyes are searing, and his tone is serious.

Gavin: Trials and hardships are inevitable.

I keep the jade ornament. As the noises draw closer, I take a few steps forward, but can’t help tossing a final glance at Gavin.

He looks at me from afar under the moonlight. The bamboo leaves are flying, softening his outline. 

[Trivia] In ancient China, jade was worth more than gold. It’s more a symbol of virtue than a mere accessory. Jade is believed to bring people good luck, and protect its owner.

-

I walk out of the forested area and see the people from the temple. 

People from the temple: MC! How was it? Have you been to the top of the mountain? Did you see the Qilin?

Hidden under my sleeve, I grip the jade ring tightly. I pretend to look extremely disappointed. 

MC: I didn’t... there’s only a cliff at the top of the mountain, and nothing else. 

People from the temple: A cliff! The records in the ancient books were actually wrong?

I never tell lies, so they accept this information easily. However, the person standing at the forefront suddenly turns to me, his tone serious.

Person: MC, the elder already said that if we can’t find the Qilin, you will have to be the Guardian of the temple. You will have to bless the village day and night in the temple. Do you remember that?

I nod slowly.

MC: I remember.

When we leave, I turn back towards the mountain. 

MC: In the future, in this lifetime, we will probably not have the chance to meet again. Take care, Gavin.

-

Once we return, I’m locked in the temple. 

A long time passed after that, and I got used to being accompanied by ancient books from the temple every day.

Outside the window, the moonlight is slightly cool. I retrieve the jade ornament, looking at it closely under the moonlight. 

MC: I wonder how Gavin is doing now...

There is a sudden gust of wind. I hurry to close the window, and the jade ornament I left at the side gets blown to the ground, shattering into two halves.

MC: Why is it broken!

I hastily reach out to pick up the jade ring, but the wind has become so strong that I can no longer move. 

The wind grows increasingly louder, causing leaves to rustle. Before my eyes, a gigantic golden mark suddenly appears. 

It appears one stroke at a time, and looks very ostentatious. 

The wind chimes under the eaves make a final sound, bringing with it the faraway echo from the distant valley. 

Gavin: It’s finally broken.

I lift my head in shock.

The crescent moon hangs in the sky. The wide leaves on the ancient trees sway with a cold shadow. 

A youth dressed in white leans against the eaves, a wine flask casually placed on his curved leg. His head tilts as he looks at me. 

His other hand holds onto the shattered jade ring. 

Gavin: Have you thought of a wish? 

Stunned, my head looks towards the man underneath the moon.

MC: Gavin...

With a soft laugh, Gavin tilts his head upwards and finishes the wine in his hand. Then, he flies down in front of me. 

Gavin: Mm, it’s me. 

He looks me up and down, then furrows his brows slightly. 

Gavin: You’ve been locked in? 

MC: Mm... not really. There was a flood disaster. I failed to bring the Qilin back to eliminate bad luck, so I have to be in the temple to use my power and pray for the village. 

Gavin: Back then, on the mountain, you didn’t tell me that you’d be confined once you came back.

MC: That’s because I was worried you wouldn’t let me help if I mentioned it...

Gavin watches me silently. Moonlight, like a light summer breeze, falls on the corners of his eyes and brows.

Gavin: Why would you help me when you would be locked up? Simply because I rescued you? 

MC: Isn’t such a reason enough?

Gavin: It’s not enough. You sacrificed your freedom. It’s too heavy a price to pay.

Gavin’s eyes are incomparably clear and bright. The gaze of his lowered eyes appear as though he’s looking at me for the very first time. 

Gavin: Why would you do it? 

Gavin’s face is illuminated by the candlelight. His gaze brings with it persistence, and also warmth.

The wind flips through pages of a book on the table. A little panicked, I hold up the book to cover my face, wanting to conceal the inexplicable emotions in my heart.

MC: T-there’s no reason. I just didn’t want you to be discovered by them. 

With his line of sight blocked by the book, Gavin doesn’t speak. After a long time, his voice sounds in the quietness. 

Gavin: “A handful of firewood is tied together, and the stars in the sky are shining. What kind of night is tonight? Can I see my beloved?”

[Trivia] I provided a very loose translation of what Gavin says, which is: 绸缪束薪, 三星在天, 今夕何夕, 见此良人.

It’s part of a poem from 诗经 (”shi jing” - “the book of songs”)

There are split views on what this poem means, but many scholars believe this poem celebrates a wedding, where both parties are teasing each other in the bridal chamber.

MC: !

I hurriedly set down the book, and realise Gavin is slowly reciting the poem on the page I accidentally flipped open. 

MC: ...if you know the meaning of it, then read it to somebody else. 

Gavin leans against the window, his eyes shifting from the book to me. 

The night is beautiful, and the galaxy seems to be within reach. 

Gavin: Of course I do. But you moved too quickly, and I didn’t get to see the next line. What is the next line?

He has a serious expression on his face, as though he genuinely wants to know what the next line is, and nothing more.

It was just a random poetry collection I had read when I was bored. To think the wind would blow the pages to this particular one...

This is a poem written for a lover. And I’ve never read it to anyone before. 

A corner of my heart feels a slight tug. I don’t dare to look at Gavin’s face. With my eyes lowered, I recite softly--

MC: "I want to ask you - how does one kiss this beloved person?”

[Trivia] This is very loose translation of what MC says, which is: 子兮子兮，如此良人何?

As mentioned earlier, this poem is meant to convey the warm, sweet love between newlyweds.

I feel a sudden, gentle touch on my forehead. Widening my eyes, I lift my head and watch as Gavin takes the book and looks at me with a bright smile.

Gavin: Your wish - I have heard it clearly. Wait for me. 

-

It has been several days since Gavin left. 

I heard that an oracle spoke to the elder of the temple one night, and he released me.  

As such, I am no longer locked up in the temple, and only have to make blessings at the temple from time to time. 

But one thing has been out of the ordinary.

MC: No way, I just wanted to plant some flowers. Why did I dig out gold? 

Weakly, I pick up the gold piece. This has happened numerous times. 

Ever since Gavin and I parted, I tend to meet with “good luck”.

While I’m looking at the gold piece in distress, I hear a commotion from afar.

??: The flood has subsided! The flood has subsided! 

The elderly woman from next door is walking back from the field, her face filled with unparalleled joy. 

MC: Granny Tian, what happened? 

Granny Tian: MC, the flood has subsided! 

MC: What?!

Granny Tian: It must be the protection from the gods. Last night, a gigantic rock suddenly fell from the South Mountain, forcing the river to change course. Because of this, the flood is gone!

MC: South Mountain... the river changing course... could it be Gavin? 

Granny Tian: What? Who’s Gavin?

I immediately find an excuse as a cover. 

Not long after, the village hosted a grand festival to commemorate the resolution of the flood.

-

I walk into the crowd wearing a white curtain hat, and I can see joyful faces and blooming fresh flowers. 

The weather is fine, and dandelion flowers are floating in the wind. 

On the altar of the temple, the elders have completed the sacrificial ceremony. A few young women wearing curtain hats are rushing to the altar. After placing all kinds of personal items on it, they pray devoutly. 

This is a very ancient custom. It is said that on this day of the festival, the gods will hear the voices from mortals.

Which is why females like praying to the gods on this day in hopes of obtaining their beloved.

Young lady: With blessings from the gods, may I meet the husband I am longing for...

After observing for a while on a lower platform, I’m just about to turn around and leave when a young lady calls out to me from the altar.

Young lady: Sister MC! You’re from the temple, so your prayers will definitely be effective. This is a rare festival - why not give it a try as well?

MC: I...

Although I initially want to refuse, the encouragement from the women nearby leaves me no choice but to step up to the altar in resignation. 

I place the shattered jade ring on the altar, close my eyes, and make a pious prayer. 

MC: May my homeland experience good weather from now onwards, and may my loved ones be together. May... my beloved person live a safe and smooth, worry-free life. 

Suddenly, a faraway wind courses past, stirring my heart.

The wind pauses before me, then envelops me, lifting me up gently.

A huge, golden coloured mark appears in the air. This time, I can see the pattern clearly. 

It’s a Qilin, surrounded by auspicious clouds. 

At some point in time, Gavin has appeared in the air, his white clothes making a rustling sound, like a god descending from the heavens.

The young women standing near the altar look towards Gavin, utterly flabbergasted. Then, they hastily kneel on the ground, trembling while asking with excitement.

Young lady: Great god, have you graced our mortal realm after hearing our calls? 

Gavin’s eyebrows arch upwards, and his lips curl into a smile. 

Gavin: I am not a god. And I didn’t come because I heard a call.

His clothes drift in the air, his hair ornament reflecting a brilliant light. 

Gavin: I hurried across the mountains and rivers over a thousand miles, just for one person.

Flowers fall out of my basket, scattering all around. 

I fall into Gavin’s embrace. He holds onto me firmly, and I am encased by his clean and cool breath, which brings with it an ancient wind from the mountains.

My curtain hat is blown up by the wind. I frantically reach out for it. When I turn my head, I see Gavin’s smile. 

Gavin: The flood has been resolved. Your mission is completed. 

I nod my head nervously. Gavin sees this and lets out a laugh.

Gavin: Do you still remember the wish you made that night? 

I look into Gavin’s charming eyes, my heart beating like a drum.

MC: I remember. I want to see the views you see, and experience the world you experience. I want... to be by your side. 

I once thought my life’s desire was to find the Qilin.

But when I was about to give up, he suddenly fell into my life, carrying the light-filled sky.

At that moment, I was certain that he was a legend belonging only to me. 

Gavin stares at me. He suddenly laughs, tapping my forehead gently.

In that instant, golden light weaves around. The auspicious clouds gather, and all the flowers bloom.

Dandelion petals dance in the air. The auspicious clouds accumulate under our feet, and the sound of wind chimes drift from somewhere. 

Gavin’s voice dissipates in the air, drifting towards the people on the ground.

Gavin: I helped your village resolve the flood. In return, I will take the most beautiful lady on the altar. 

The wind surrounding us causes flower petals to swirl in the air. When the flowers fall and the wind has scattered, two people have vanished from the sky.

-

A very long time later, a beautiful legend arose in this land. 

Legend says that on this big altar, a young lady’s devout prayer drew a god who rode the wind.

The god took the young lady away. In exchange, the land received many years of peace. 

Nobody knows what happened to the god and the young lady after that. 

But dandelions bloomed and filled the entire mountain. 

- End -

...did the dandelions end up outside a certain grandmother’s house in Gavin’s Old Haunt Date? 👀

Phone call: First // Second

[where-theres-smoak-2]

JATP Analysis/Theory: Alex and Carrie

I know I need to stop but I am having way too much fun overanalysing this show. Besides I promised you all a Alex and Carrie post so here it is. So my newest theory is kind of to do with the phantoms unfinished business. All through out season 1 there has been this theme of connection, Julie’s connection to the boys, their connection to Julie’s mum, Julie’s connection to her mum, Luke’s connection to his parents etc. We also know that the phantoms have some burnt bridges, with their parents and with Bobby. Julie too also has a broken bridge between her and Carrie. I think their unfinished business is to mend all of those broken relationships and reconnect with everyone. This is where I think Alex and Carrie come in. 

I think that Alex and Carrie are going to be really important in reconnecting everyone and here is why I think that. I think you can draw alot of parallels between Alex and Carrie and I think the show producers have created these parallels because they want us to connect Alex and Carrie.

The first parallell is something I have spoken about before and I think it’s talked about alot in the fandom, but many of the characters in the show have a colour connected to them Alex and Carrie both have the same colour connected to them, pink. 

In fact its very rare to see either of these characters not wearing pink, it happens occassionally but not very often. This is interesting considering on the surface these are very different characters. 

 But the colour pink had a lot of symbolism around it and even more interesting than that, different shades of pink have different meanings. Pink is made up from two colours, Red and White. Red symbolises, passion, energy, power and sometimes agression. White symbolises purtiy, morality and innocence. Obviously these are two contradicting colours but when you put them together the passion of red is softened by the purity of the white creating a calming, romantic and gentle loving colour. The more red in the pink the more energetic the colour.  

Alex wears alot of light pink. Light pink is a much softer and calmer colour than the brighter pink that Carrie is often seen in. And that fits their individual personalities, Alex is a much calmer and softer person whereas Carrie is more engergetic and agressive. However pink is also a playful colour and I would say both characters have shown that playful side to them when Carrie performs and when Alex joined in with the dancing is one example. Pink also represents friendship, unconditional love, understanding and compassion. I think you could easily relate all of these things to Alex but you might have a harder time seeing Carrie that way. However I think from the fact that Julie used to be friends with her and that little clap at the end of Stand Tall she definitely has the capacity to be all of those things. I do think that clap at the end was the beginning of her redemption arc but that its going to take some time for her character to grow and I think Alex is going to play a big part in helping her with her journey.    

Dancing is another thing that is similar between them. The both seem to really enjoy that aspect of performing. I do think that this love of dance could be what helps them connect in season 2. Alex is always shown to enjoy Dirty Candy’s performance and has joined in with the dancing both times. But they also seem to be wound tightly and often seen as tense or stressed. I do think that they both use dance as an outlet, its their way to let loose and just be themselves without any cares. I do think this could be something they’ll bond over. 

So why is it important that Alex and Carrie make this connection? Well I personally think that out of the three boys Alex is the one that is going to be most willing to forgive Bobby. When they found out that Bobby had stolen their songs both Reggie and Luke had very specific reasons for being angry about it. Luke was angry because if he had been given credit then his parents would have known his dreams were worth chasing. Reggie was angry because if Bobby had given them credit then some of the money would have gone to their families and maybe his family wouldn’t have had their house turned into a bike shed. But Alex never gives a specific reason for being angry therefore I think he’ll be the one most likely to be willing to sit down and chat with Bobby and listen to his side of the story. I think it’ll be through Carrie that Bobby and Alex will reconnect. I spoke in another post (here if you like dot read it) about how alot of the characters have a necklace that they always wear and the symbolism behind those necklaces. Alex always wears a gold chain which as I said in that other post, chains have been a symbol of everlasting love and life since ancient times, its the circle that never ends. Gold is also a symbol of purity,  illumination, love, compassion, courage, passion, magic, and wisdom. Again all of these things are very similar to what the colour pink represents. What’s interesting to me is that even though Carrie doesn’t have a necklace that she never ever takes off she does have one that she wears more often than any others and like Alex this is a gold chain or rather two gold chains.

 Also if you look at the picture on the right where she has pink hair you can see she is wearing another necklace on top of the two gold chains. Now I’m not an expert on designer jewellery but I know there is a brand that is like known for its panther/ leopard necklaces called cartier. I’m pretty sure that’s what the other necklace is. I do think this is obviously suppose to show Carrie’s wealth, gold is also a symbol of wealth and glamour which is probably why alot of Carrie’s jewellery is gold. But it is interesting that it is a cat necklace, again in that other post I talked about cat imagery in the show and how Flynn is often seen in animal prints and has cat imagery associated with her. Cat’s in alot of cultures are guardians to the underworld and spirits. This necklace isn’t the only instance that we see Carrie with cat imagery in Edge of Great she is wearing a leopard print pale pink outfit.  

   Although there is nowhere near as much of this cat/ leopard imagery with Carrie as there is Flynn I do still think this represents that Carrie will also like Flynn will be on team phantoms at some point and like Flynn will act in a helper/ protector capacity. 

Staying on the subject of cats though there is something else I want to talk about. Like I said I think mending their relationship  with Bobby is going to be a big part of completing the phantoms unfinished business. Well I didn’t notice this until @this-is-a-name-dont-worry​ pointed it out to me but like the rest of the boys Bobby also has a necklace that he wears all the time and whch he was wearing in 1995 and 2020. 

I spent ages trying to figure out what the hell his necklace was because in most shots it just looks like a hunk of silver metal. But I finally figured it out and I’m 99% sure that its a lion. 

Sorry about the quality of the picture it’s as clear as I could get it. I’ve tried to make the features a little bit clearer by outlining them. The red dots are the eyes, the orange circle is where the nose and open mouth is and then the mane is outlined in brown. Also like Carrie and Flynn he has been seen wearing leopard print. This makes Bobby the third person to be associated with cats of some kind and what is also interesting is that all three characters are lifers. But the Lion holds a even more special symbolism. Most of the characters can be divided into being more connected to Julie/ lifers or to the Phantoms/ afterlife. For example  Willie and Caleb are very much connected to the Phantoms and the afterlife. But Flynn and Carrie are much more connected to Julie and life. However you could argue that Bobby is that one character that is very much in both worlds. He is very connected and was a big part of the phantoms lives but he was also quite a big part of Julie’s life and is very much connected to her and the living through Carrie. The interesting thing is that Lions are neither nocturnal (active at night) or diurnal (active during the day) but are sort of inbetween. Night time in many cultures is symbolic of magic and the afterlife, the haunting hour as Caleb put it. Daytime is very much the time of the living so its interesting to me that Bobby has a necklace that is the image of a animal that is part of both worlds just as he is. Also as a slight sidenote I do have a new maybe not theory but headcanon, all four boys from sunset curve each have a necklace that is unique to them and that they never take off, I like to think that they all brought the necklaces together, maybe at a stall or something and that they are a symbol of their friendship kinda like friendship bracelets but as necklaces. Still its really interesting to me that Bobby never took that necklace off. Anyway back on track I think the fact that all three of these characters have associasions with cats makes me think that each of them will be instrumental in helping the phantoms complete their unfinished business, especially as cats are often not just depicted as protectors for spirits in the afterlife but as guides. I think each of them is kind of like a roadmarker on the journey to the phantoms completing their unfinished business. 

Ok so going back to Alex and Carrie and why I think Alex will be an important part of Carrie’s character development and redemption arc. In episode 6 there is that truly iconic scene where Dirty Candy is performing and Alex ends up joining them on stage. During the dance Alex passes through Carrie twice. When Ray passed through Reggie, Reggie then formed an attatchment to Ray. The same thing happened between Julie and Luke they formed a deep connection. Obviously I do think that there were other factors than just they passed though them but I do think its significant and its for that reason that I think that Alex and Carrie will form a bond. Also from Reggie’s comment about being able to tell that Ray has a good heart and the looks on Julie and Lukes faces it seems like they can sense the other persons I don’t know personality or maybe even their soul, maybe when passing through for a moment your souls connect who knows. I think Carrie has alot of issues, clearly, but I think underneath all that she is actually more like Alex than we know, a gentle, sweet girl. I think this is something that Alex sensed and that he is going to help her get back to who she used to be and help her reconnect with Julie. I do think Carrie and Julie’s story is the same as Bobby and Luke’s/the Phantoms. I think like Bobby, Carrie has a deep rooted jealousy of Julie. I think that Carrie has a love for music and wants to be successful in the industry and she probably feels a bit like she’s in her father’s shadow and that there’s alot of pressure on her to succeed because of how successful her father is. Although she is good I do think she probably feels like she is constantly outshone by Julie and that Julie’s talent comes really easily to her. Like her father I think she was given an opportunity, I spose you could call it, by death more specifically Julie’s mum’s death. I think with Julie being unable to sing or play music Carrie was suddenly getting alot more attention but like Bobby I think she has alot of conflicted feelings about it because although she is now getting more success she is grieving for someone who has passed. It must be a very conflicting feeling and I think that is why she is so moved in Stand Tall because I do think she had a bond with Rose and just didn’t know how to deal with her dying. Also as another little detail during that scene Carrie isn’t in pink but is wearing a dress that is covered in hearts. 

I think this is suppose to symbolise how her heart is opening up. But the really interesting thing is that the hearts are coloured pink, red and blue which are the colours of the boys maybe this is an indication that the boys will be helping open her heart or that she will help open theirs to forgiveness for bobby. 

Another sign that Carrie might be getting a redemption arc is that in episode 6 again during that scene where she performs all eyes on me she is wearing a pendant of Saturn.

Saturn is symbolic of transition and transformation. I think the message here is clear that Carrie is going to go through a change. As I said I think Alex will play a big part in that. Part of the reason why I think that is because I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Carrie is wearing the Saturn pendant at the same time that Alex joins in with the dance and passes through Carrie. Also I think its significant that the song that Alex joins in with is All Eyes On Me. Again in that other post I talked about how I actually thought the song was telling the story of what happened between Bobby and the boys. Like I said Carrie and Julie’s situation I think is the same. I think just as Alex was interfering and making the dance better (because you know he made it better as fantastic as it already was) he is going to be ‘interfering’  and making Carrie and Julie’s relationship better and then as a result of that Carrie is going to help heal things with her father. 

Ok this one even I will admit is a bit of a stretch but it popped into my head so I figured I’d add in. But in episode 9 when Caleb gives the Phantoms new threads each of them have, well I’m not sure exactly what they are but lets go with brooch. I don’t know if there is any significance to Luke’s and Reggie’s because I haven’t been able to get a clear enough image of them yet but this one is Alex’s. 

 Alex has a cross and a chain that curves like a crescent. The symbol for saturn is this.   

Obviously its not the identical but I can’t help but think they look similar. The other interesting thing is that the Saturn symbol is made up of two components a cross and a scythe. Saturn is symbolic not just of change and transformation but with death, or more specifically death’s scythe. I don’t know I just thought it was interesting and if his brooch is suppose to represent the symbol for Saturn then that means that both Alex and Carrie have worn jewellery associated with Saturn. I do think that both of them will grow and change. I also think it would be really interesting to see these two getting to know each other and them bonding. I’d love to see a dance scene with them both. You know one where Carrie knows he’s there and can interact with him.  

So yeah that was my incoherrent ramblings about Alex and Carrie with a side of Bobby. Now all I need is for Netlfix to renew the show for a 2nd season already.  

[mellifluousmalfoy]

flower curse. // cedric diggory x reader.

HANAHAKI AU.

gn!reader

warnings; blood, unrequited love and angst obvi.

word count; 4.3k

Something wasn’t right. You could feel it, not only deep in your gut but in your chest. Something was definitely wrong and it was hard to ignore as you tried to focus on the notes you had meant to be taking during astrology, but your mind was full of something else, hence as to why you were scribbling idly on the sides of your notebook, dragging your quill easily across the paper as you fought the urge to draw his name. Your chest felt uncomfortably tight, and the feeling of something growing in it caused worry to grow over you like a sudden storm cloud enveloping itself around you. You could feel the drumming of something soft hammering against your lungs, the touch as light as a feather, but with the numbers increasing so did your worry. The soft feathers, you called them, floated around in your chest for what felt like forever as you focused your hardest on your paper, trying to figure out what was happening. Petals.

You never knew why you felt like this, you just always noticed it always seemed to happen around him. It was confusing at first, but your understanding only seemed to grow as it only ever did happen around him, and it was slowly but surely becoming clear to you. You were sick, and it was his fault.

A scowl grew on your face as the harsh words in your mind seemed ruthless on him, but your heart was weakest for him and you hated the vulnerability. Your mind slowly drifted back to what you thought was the sickness, it confused you like many things did. It wasn’t clear to you as to why you were sick, but you never told a soul. No one knew of your turmoil, and you planned to keep it that way. Guilt built up in your chest as you thought of your best friend whom you knew would be worried sick, knowing of your recent coughing fits, even offering to stay in your dorm with you if you didn’t want to go to class. Your mind slowly started to drift back to the cause of everything, and you bitterly laughed as you recalled all the times you choked up the petals just to spend a simple five minutes with him, although it seemed to kill you inside every single time, you endured it. You’d endure anything for him.

You finally mustered up the courage to break your strong glare on the paper below your arms as you let your eyes wander over to where he was sat. He sat bent over his desk, his auburn hair falling over his eyes as his nose scrunched up into the small crinkle you loved oh so much, a habit of his, as his eyes were glued to his book as his nose dug further into it, a small laugh escaping your chapped lips as you observed the dashing male. And once again you were reminded of what was happening to you. You sighed out in frustration, out of frustration to the fact that a simple glance at the boy could get your heart running and the petals banging aggressively against the inside of your lungs. You stood up clumsily, a few pens falling off your table as you tried to leave the classroom as fast as possible, knowing what was coming. You excused yourself as you ran out, not without catching a few strange glances, trying to find the closest bathroom which thankfully was across the hall. You could feel the worried eyes of Cedric burning into your back as you retreated into the marble room.

Cedric Diggory. Mr Diggory. The instigator behind your entire situation, albeit he didn’t know a single thing about it. And he had no idea how much pain he was just putting you through. As soon as you stepped into the bathroom petals were already leaving your mouth before you could even reach a stall, and once you reached one you let everything out, shamelessly belching the petals that were so beautiful but so painful to look at. You looked down at the yellow petals in horror as your mind tried to calculate just what was happening to you. Sunflowers. You absolutely loved sunflowers, from the height to the beautiful yellow of the petals, but they looked absolutely hideous leaving your mouth like that. A huge wave of confusion washed over you as you tried to comprehend why it was happening. The pain in your throat becoming unbearable as if Cedric himself was standing in the stall with you, slowly tighten barb wire around your neck. You squeezed your neck tightly as you tried to soothe the pain.

You were racking your mind to figure out if you had read anything in the disease that seemed to be infecting your body, but your mind was blank. You ran to the library to try to find any material you could on the sickness. You flicked through multiple books before pulling out one that looked promising. You read the pages and your heart broke.

Flower Curse; a disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love.

You couldn’t help your heart from breaking into pieces. 

-

Sunflowers.

They were said to be “false riches” because of Spanish explorers thinking they were made of real gold. I guess in this scenario, it’s showing your false hope.

-

You watched him intently as he conversed happily with other students. He was always so bright, he was radiant in the room and everyone and anyone wanted to be the one who he smiled at, and you admired that about him. He had multitudes of beautiful features that would make him stand out in any crowd. You watched him as he smiled at her like he always did. You hated the fact that she was the reason behind his smile, and you could feel that hatred blooming in your chest. She was one of the biggest reasons as to why you didn’t confess, his heart was already stolen. He was already in love, and your pride made you hold everything in, for him. You felt as if you weren’t enough, for him at least. He smiled brightly at her and it was shining in the classroom. You could hear the petals now, they were begging for your attention, the attention that you refused to give them.

You were once again reminded of what was growing inside your body, of what was slowly killing you inside. The flower petals flew around freely in your chest, coating the walls of your lungs in bright colours. You were completely oblivious to how dangerous your condition was and how it was affecting you. But for now, you focused on the male who sat with so much happiness radiating off of him it was hard not to smile.

You stumbled into your house’s common room and immediately let out what you had been holding all day. A variety of colours spilt onto the floor as you crouched over in pain. You caught the worried gaze of your best friend, Fred Weasley, who looked away from the fire that he was so intently watching before. Worry washed him as he watched you.

Orange lilies. Such a pretty flower, but such an ugly sight to see blooming in your chest. Your coughs turned into gags and soon you were hacking out aggressive gags, trying your best to get out the flower that made itself at home in your throat. You no longer threw up pathetic petals, they were full flowers. The orange lilies terrified you as they laid on the ground fully intact. You held the last fully bloomed flower in your hands, your eyes slowly blurring from the pain that resonated in your throat from what abuse it had just gone through

You could feel the harsh stare from your best friend who was speechless. You lifted your gaze from the flowers to meet his eyes. He could see it. He could see the fear that drowned your beautiful eyes. He had no idea how to react to what he had just witnessed, but he was quick to your side as his large frame enveloped your fragile body. He held you tightly against his front, he didn’t need an explanation, he just knew you needed him. You cried in his arms for what felt like hours and it pained him incredibly, he didn’t want to see you in pain like this. More flowers spilt from your mouth as he held you tightly, this time red and white. He expected an explanation, which you could not give him right now. For now, he held you tightly against his chest and cradled you as if you were the most precious thing in his world.

-

Orange Lilies.

They are said to symbolise hatred, pride and disdain. You hated the girl and Cedric for what they did to you, and it embarrassed you.

Anemones.

They are said to symbolise fragility, while the red and/or pink are said to symbolise death or forsaken love.

-

Cedric noticed. He noticed how your demeanour always changed around him, how your eyes always stayed on his figure for a second or two longer, and how you acted as if you were being cautious. He was confused as to why you acted like this. It wasn’t until the day you had run out of the classroom, flowers spilling from your mouth into your hand. It was barely noticeable, yet he noticed. He always did. He understood exactly what you were going through because he had gone through it himself in his fourth year, last year, when he had fallen for a sixth year from Gryffindor who wouldn’t give him the time of day. And so he did the thing he thought would be best for you, he distanced himself. 

He never glanced your way anymore and graced you with the presence of his warm smile that always made your day, it broke your heart. You watched him desperately from across the table. You were currently in class and you were assigned a group project, Cedric being in your group and completely ignoring your existence. He glanced around the classroom looking incredibly uninterested, ignoring you as if he had lost all interest in not only you but the entire project. Your group discussed who would be assigned to which part of the project before the devil himself stood up abruptly, pulling his bad with him, “Sorry guys,“ he apologised as he gathered his things, “my girlfriend is waiting.”

His explanation was brief and he tried his best to keep it just at that, grabbing his robe and clutching it tightly before leaving the empty classroom you all had been meeting in, the guilt that boiled in his stomach was slowly eating away at his insides. The tight grin you always wore faltered as you stood up a few moments after Cedric had left, “Miss Sprout had asked me to help her with the Mandrakes she has been harvesting, I hate to leave like this,” the lie flowed out of your mouth easily as you quickly gathered your things and basically ran out of the classroom. 

You sprinted towards the Gryffindor common room which would most likely be empty, your last period was free and you had just finished your fifth meaning you would now be alone. Once you reached the common room you spluttered out the password and the portrait swung open, you wanted to get in as soon as you could before more flowers would leave your mouth. Fred stood near the entrance, pacing worriedly and instantly came to your side when you walked in and caught you before you could reach the ground. He had been waiting because someone had told him about your behaviour in class today.

You had no tears this time, as if you were beyond that pain. It overtook you to the point where you felt numb, emotionless. As if you had surpassed the breaking point, as if you had been stripped of all your feelings. Yellow flowers spilt past your lips as you didn’t have to struggle for the dainty things to come out. You could feel it. You could something stuck in your throat as you pushed away Fred’s arms causing you to fully collapse, not having the strength in your legs to keep yourself up. You clawed at your neck, gasped for air just trying to get that thing out, and you coughed, and coughed and coughed. You gagged as you strived to get whatever was in your throat, out of it. Yellow flowers kept spilling out, so much to the point you were laying in them, and slowly they came out covered in a crimson liquid that you hated oh so much.

 You kept clawing at your throat, the object was still in there and it was beyond painful. Fred could only watch in horror as you laid with the flowers that were once yellow, screaming out in pain and all he could do was stand there like a clueless fool. Your screams came out pained, as you tried to get that stupid thing out of your throat, but once again only more flowers spilt out. And it all happened so quickly, you hadn’t even realised that it had come out, maybe the flowers had washed it out but now it sat in front of you, glaring at you.

Fred got down onto his knees after he snapped out of it and brought you into his arms, hoping that just maybe his embrace would bring you any type of comfort as you both looked at the object that had come out of your mouth, terrified beyond belief.

A root. A root coated in your blood. It wasn’t small, it was as wide as two of your fingers and as tall as your entire hand but it was thin and nimble. How could that have come out of your throat? You didn’t know, yet here it was sitting in front of you, glaring at you. What you did know was that this sickness, this disease, was killing you.

-

Yellow Carnations.

They are said to symbolise rejection and disdain. Cedric only wanted to help, but it only made things worse, both for you and him.

-

You cried on the floor as your best friend, Fred, watched you with heartbroken eyes, wishing for all of this to be over. You looked up at him with desperate eyes, silently begging for all of this to end. You tiredly explained you encounter with Cedric earlier, trying not to let your sobs interrupt your story as you tried your best to explain everything in detail, “Fred,” your voice was hoarse as a few petals fell past your lips, “it hurts, so so much.”

Fred couldn’t do anything, he was incredibly hopeless in this situation and all he could in this situation was hold you, and that’s what he did. His eyes glazed over as he watched his best friend in so much pain, he took you in his arms again and slowly swayed in hopes of calming you down, “I know, I know..” he whispered out painfully, trying his best to console you, to stop your cries, your sobs were loud. 

Sooner or later he had picked up your smaller frame and took you to one of the sofas in the common room, hoping the soft light from the fireplace could comfort you, and you fell asleep against him, small sniffles leaving your mouth, “How could he hurt you so carelessly?” He thought aloud to himself as he glanced over your tear stricken face. You hadn’t looked so peaceful in what felt like forever, and your calmness was beautiful to him as if nothing could harm you, as if you had no worries in the world. You couldn’t feel the pain, and that’s all he had been begging for the past few days.

He slowly stood up and magicked away the flowers from earlier, picking up the root before the portrait swung open, a first-year followed by the last person he wanted to see at that moment. Anger boiled in his blood as his eyes raced toward you, who laid innocently on the couch, anyone would just assume you were napping not knowing of your turmoil, “Cedric,” he greeted his peer as politely as he could, “what brings you here?”

“I wanted to check up on L/N,” Cedric simply explained, not being able to see you from where he was standing next to the tunnel toward the portrait, “L/N didn’t look well during the meeting today,” He scratched the back of his neck nervously as a sheepish smile was painted on his face. He felt extremely terrible for how he behaved towards you and became incredibly worried when he saw you sprinting out of the classroom and toward the Gryffindor common room.

“Y/N’s feeling a bit sick, but they’ll be on their feet again sooner or later. Thank you for checking up, though.” Fred lied through his teeth, technically it wasn’t a lie and Cedric knew that himself. And Cedric took that as his cue to leave.

He stood outside of the common room as a wave of sadness washed over him, “I’m sorry,” he muttered softly, a tear sliding down his cheek before he left the portrait who watched him as if he was a mad man.

Fred went back to the couch and he could see more flowers next to your head. Had they left your mouth when you were sleeping? How often did this happen? He wondered, he knew these were questions he could never ask you so he was always left to wonder. The flowers were purple and they looked so terrifyingly beautiful laid next to you, if no one knew the context they would think of it as just beautiful.

-

Purple Hyacinth.

It is said to mean “forgive me”, the perfect apology flower, but in this context, it’s your nightmare.

-

Maybe it wasn’t the best choice for you and everyone around you, but you did it anyway. You were sick and tired of the pain you went through daily for nearly two months. Petal after petal, flower after flower, root after root. You hated the pain, not only had it affected you but everyone around you. And you hated to be a burden to them, no matter how much they denied the fact that you were a burden, you knew the truth. It made them tired, and you were beyond exhausted. Fred was practically worrying his head off 24/7, and you wanted to end not only your pain but his pain, and whether yours was worse was the least of your worries. 

And so you both approached Madam Pomfrey and begged her to take you to get the surgery. Your parents were told by owl and they apparated to Hogsmeade that night where they escorted you to St. Mungos. That was just before the term had ended for the Easter break, you hadn’t returned the next term and never left the house during summer. The surgery was a success, and no one had to worry anymore. That’s what you told yourself constantly. You were cured of the sickness, but now you sat in the common room, an empty vessel as everyone hurried around out of excitement, it was the year for the Triwizard Tournament and the Gryffindor common room was booming with the excited screams of all the gals and pals. 

Fred looked at the time and noticed it was now time for the welcoming feast, and so he dragged you out of the common room and through the castle towards the Great Hall. You didn’t resist, you didn’t want him to worry about you but you knew he did, he always did. You pulled your arm from his grasp before turning the opposite direction, muttering an excuse to use the toilet and he could only watch your back disappear into the crowd with a worried gaze. 

You thought about the last five months that had passed, they were hell. You hated every second of it and you couldn’t understand why you didn’t feel relieved these past five months. Now there was just a void, an empty you felt as if could never be filled. Fred visited you often, as often as he could and he was an amazing company to have, and he always made sure he left you smiling, and your parents loved him to the end of the earth for it. Your parents were your shadow, always watching you even if they thought they were being inconspicuous. Cedric hadn’t popped up in your mind at all, now that you thought about it. All you could think of were the flowers, the different coloured petals, the blood-covered roo-

You were brought out of your train of thoughts when you collided with something, or rather a person. Suddenly there was a high pitched voice in your ear that sounded too happy to see you thought caused you to flinch. The voice greeted you and you instantly recognised it. Cho Chang. Cedric’s current fling. How she knew you in the first place? You had no idea, you had never spoken to her before this interaction so you only gazed down at her in confusion before you painted a smile on your face, or at least what you thought was a smile. You nodded your head in acknowledgement before you continued your way down the hall, trying to find a bloody bathroom. 

But before you could go any further a hand caught your wrist, and your eyes caught his. Cedric Diggory. It’s been months since you had last seen him, thought of him, and you wanted to jump up in happiness. Not because you’re seeing him after what felt like forever, but because your heart didn’t flutter when your eyes met, the familiar feeling of a blush creeping it’s way up your neck was nowhere to be seen. You didn’t feel a damn thing while looking at him and you wanted to jump up in glee and scream out eureka. Your pain was over. But you bit back all of your joy and stared monotonously at the boy in front of you, “Oh, hi Cedric.”

Your voice showed no interest at the young couple and both of their expressions faltered. Cedric’s eyebrows furrowed as he noticed how different you behaved. Your usual blush was nowhere to be seen and you held the eye contact instead of your eyes shooting everywhere nervously. Your eyes held close to no emotion, he could only see boredom. You glanced at him briefly, not even caring to hold eye contact anymore, but you noticed his eyes and how they glazed over with disappointment. You had to fight the urge to laugh bitterly at him, “What is it, Cedric?”

Your harsh tone brought him out of his thoughts, he noticed he hadn’t replied to your greeting and you noticed how less and less students were passing you, they all must be in the Hall eating now. Cho glanced between the two of you confusedly, mostly confused with Cedric who stood there speechless, “Oh- I- um-” he stuttered as he removed his hand from your wrist, a small embarrassed blush creeping up his neck. A loud voice boomed in the hall the three of you were currently standing, as Fred called out your name happily, a small grin on his face as he ran towards the three of you. A small grin made its way onto your face when you caught sight of the goofy redhead and the large shit-eating grin he wore. 

“Hey Cedric, Cho,” Fred greeted the young couple happily, slightly out of breath from how fast he had run out of the Hall when one of the third-years had let spilt that you were currently talking to Cedric and Cho in a hall, alone. And so he came to your rescue. You stared at him, feeling something growing in your chest again, but it definitely felt different this time. They didn’t feel like those terrifying flowers, it felt warm. As if you had just taken the first sip of your coffee on a winter day, the warmth spreading through your chest into your entire body. Merlin, it felt incredible.

Fred took your hand in his as he smiled down at you, “Let’s get out of here,” and you happily let you drag him away. Cedric watched the scene that unfolded in front of him, he recognised the look on your face, your gaze, your smile. He had seen it on so many people, including his girlfriend. It was the look of pure happiness, a gaze full of nothing but love, and a genuine smile. Fred had taught you love, and my did you love him so much, and he loved you more than you could ever imagine. He was so genuine, your bond as unbreakable as an unbreakable vow. You had no clue what the future had in mind for you, you just wanted to have a future with him.

Cedric almost felt selfish, thinking he’d have you forever. Thinking if things didn’t go well with any of the girls he had a fling with, he could turn to you for comfort. And now he regretted everything knowing you’d never fall into his palm again. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken you for granted, maybe you would’ve been in his arms instead, gazing at him with those loving eyes. But reality never is on our ides, is it? And so he took his girlfriend’s hand and walked out of that hall, his heart aching knowing you could never be his. He hugged Cho in his arms as he fed her empty promises, not noticing the petal that fell out of his mouth and stuck itself onto his lip. He felt the small dainty thing and picked it up off of his lip, and he could’ve recognised the orange flower anywhere. Even if it was just a petal. How could he not recognise his favourite flower?

-

Butterfly Weed.

It is said to quite literally mean, “leave me,” or “let me go”. Quite a beautiful flower, quite a sad meaning. You had forgiven him but you would never forget.

fin.

[a-little-slice-of-fandom]

A) hi how ya doing? B) I miss you C) can you analyze anything of Aragon? Thank you :)

Hey anon! I’m doing good ❤️❤️❤️ thanks so much for asking! I hope you’re doing well too!

Aragon is really interesting to me, because her song is kind of like the bohemian rhapsody of six. Very few people will say that it’s their favourite, but everyone will instantly sing along because it’s so catchy! Plus, it’s a great song to follow ex-wives with. It keeps the energy up and introduces the audience to the plot of the show.

I will say this until the day I die: while I would love if more songs were as scathing as say AYWD...you could never start with those songs. It’s too much too quickly. You need the more catchy, light-hearted songs of Ex-Wives, No Way and DLUH to start with because it helps get the audience invested in the show and the plot as a whole. Six, first and foremost, will always need to work dramatically. That’s why the old, more openly bitter No Way was changed to something a little more light-hearted.

The first thing that always comes to mind when I think of Aragon is regal. She’s the queen who was married to Henry for 24 years and was a Spanish princess as well. She’s the refined, confident queen who knows her own worth and honestly? I get the vibe she just wants a little bit of respect from the other queens. While some people characterise Aragon as rather cold, I honestly don’t get that? The show portrays Aragon as a very loyal person despite all that Henry put her through, and she clearly cares for Mary and also, to a lesser extent, Parr as her god daughter (remember she calls Howard “the least relevant Katherine”...meaning she does see Parr as relevant.) and she often refers to other queens as “babe” even though she was just arguing with them five seconds earlier (harking on the idea of forgiveness, something I think Aragon is very good at in the show!). Plus, while there’s only one line referring to Mary, Aragon is always so protective of her and warm to her. In the album, Renee’s “aw, hi baby!” is the most adorable and heartwarming part of the song and it’s clear she adores her daughter, while the “oh, you don’t remember?” in the live versions is so protective of her baby. It’s honestly something we don’t discuss enough. Moreover, Aragon’s song is one of the most energetic, but she has her earnest moment of pleading as well, along with her undisputable strength of refusing to back down and accept Henry’s lies. She is also incredibly passionate when talking about something she loves or defending herself when she has to (which make sense! This was the woman who rode with an army wearing armour while pregnant. Aragon was not to be messed with!).

I personally disagree with people who try and claim that Toby and Lucy wrote Aragon as the “angry” queen because she never truly gets to the levels of boleyn or seymour (yes there’s the miscarriage argument where she does raise her voice but like...are we ignoring Seymour’s “boohoo Mary had the chickenpox” or the fact that Boleyn is also shouting in that argument??? And she usually goes louder than Aragon???) and yet she’s so often defined by that trait even though other queens share it and are even more extreme. And yes, Im fully aware of why certain people characterise aragon in this way and I’m so annoyed that even though we continually call out the fact that’s it’s problematic, it continues to happen. However Aragon does have flaws like every good character should. Aragon just won’t try and listen to the other queens. She refuses to accept that Boleyn or Seymour might have had a worse time than her. Now I personally never got the feeling that Aragon blames the other queens for anything. Her feelings are directed at Henry. Notice in now way she talks about how henry is “running around with some pretty young thing” and she refers to him having “one son with someone who don’t own a wedding ring”. Those people? They’re clearly supposed to be Boleyn and Bessie, two people who are actually on stage at the time. But Aragon doesn’t take an easy shot at either of them in her song. She doesn’t say their name or call them out or try and involve them in her song. Contrast this with DLUH where Boleyn grabs Aragon, forces her to be front and centre in this verse and then insults her constantly (“three in the bed” = airing Aragon’s and Henry’s ✨ intimate issues ✨ with the entire world while “Don’t be bitter, cause I’m fitter” and “he doesn’t want to bang you, somebody hang you” are both pretty self explanatory). I think it’s absolutely key that Aragon doesn’t blame Boleyn or Bessie or direct any misplaced feelings towards them in no way or the show. Her (very justified) feelings of anger and betrayal are (generally) directed at Henry. And that’s something so many people ignore! And I personally wish more people would be like Aragon in this regard in the real world. I don’t know if other people agree with me, but it’s your boyfriends/husbands job to not cheat on you, not someone else’s. I do know some people think that Aragon is slighting Boleyn and Bessie in that verse but if we’re sticking to tudor ideals, Aragon not mentioning them by name (in essence keeping their “dignity” and “honour” intact) would be the kinder thing to to. (Note I’m only saying this with Tudor ideals in mind. I also think Aragon fully knows that Bessie was 13 when Henry started making advances on her and again, refuses to blame Bessie for what happened because she knows she’s a victim).

However...Aragon doesn’t ever try and listen to other queens and will insult them if she has to. She (along with the other queens like Boleyn and Seymour) gets more and more defensive and petty as the show continues. However, she never gets to the same levels of hard hitting insults has say Boleyn. But I mean...Aragon was a queen who went through so much in her lifetime and never was able to really talk about it. Yes, she resisted Henry trying to get their marriage annulled, and she was one of the strongest women at the time, but she couldn’t deal with her emotions the same way that we can today. She never got to told Boleyn to go away or leave her alone. She never got to bad mouth Henry because he was the king. She was, first and foremost, a lady, and she was expected to act in a certain way all of her life. And now that she’s reincarnated in modern days, she doesn’t have to do all of those things. She can be annoyed and let it show, she can tell Boleyn all those things she wanted to do back in the day. Some actresses even lean into the idea that it’s sort of cathartic for Aragon to FINALLY just say what she wants to say without having to worry on how it would reflect on her as queen. Mind you, I still think that Aragon considers how her words would reflect on her (much more than any other queen) but she definitely has more wiggle room within the show than she did during her reign.

In addition, while the fandom also like to reduce Aragon to obsessed with her religion, I actually really like how her relationship with Catholicism is portrayed in the show. While I do concede that Aragon’s faith is sometimes reduced to the butt of the joke, that’s not always the case and I personally really enjoy how Aragon seems to gain a lot of strength from her religion, instead of it holding her back or hindering her. While I do understand why so many characters in media struggle with their religion or find it suffocating (my relationship with Catholicism is...fragile at the best of times), but I genuinely love this idea that Aragon’s faith is what guides her and gives her inner strength in times of need. I mean,,,when she’s pleading to Henry during now way, the music slows to something that sounds more like a gospel song, Aragon is kneeling with her hands clasped and there's bright white light around her (i also vaguely remember something that looks like a crucifix behind her as well? But I'm not 100 percent sure on that). At the time where Aragon is most vulnerable and needs to find inner strength and wants guidance...she turns to her religion and that's seen as a very positive thing!!! The same with Aragon's verse in Sox. Moving to a nunnery and finding friends there is something that's now postive and liberating instead of being stuffy and boring and restrictive like nunnery are often portrayed as in media. (yes I know that's also a play on Henry wanting to send Aragon into the nunnery after their divorce but I do think that there’s no malicious religion-basing in Six is a nice touch that’s often overlooked).

Finally, Aragon’s costume is quite important to her character. It is one of the more feminine outlines (especially the updated version on broadway) and I do think it’s an inadvertent issue that the queens with the more stereotypical feminine costumes are more catty whereas the more stereotypical androgynous or masculine outfits (aka Parr and Cleves) are often the voices of reason, but I don’t think that’s intentional or is intended to comment on anything. It’s just a coincidence. However, the gold of Aragon’s outfit obviously symbolises her love, courage and passion, along with indicating her status as a noble. While yes the rest of the queens were all noble in some way before they married Henry, Aragon was a Spanish princess and the daughter of two incredibly powerful monarchs. She was probably the highest standing out of any of the queens, and her costume reflects that. I also think that her wearing gold to flaunt her status could be her trying to make up for the years between her marriages to Arthur and Henry (where she didn’t have many provisions made for her as far as I know) and also the last few years of her life. (I’ve seen differing reports on how Aragon was provided for after Henry divorced her, with her claiming that she was living in poverty while others state she got 3000 pounds. If anyone has any confirmation then let me know). Either way, her wanting to flaunt her status after her reincarnation by wearing lots of bright gold makes total sense. I’ve also seen a few people say that the bust on Aragon’s costume is the most historically accurate but I can’t confirm that, although if it is then that’s a really nice touch.

Well this took ages, but it was fun to finally get to analyse stuff again AND do it on a queen who doesn’t get discussed very much!!! Aragon often gets reduced to “catholic” or “angry” within this fandom, even though she is just as complex as any other character within the show but she just expresses things in very different ways. And that’s okay! This whole show is about how women (and NB folk!) are different and do have different experiences and do express things differently and have different personalities and that’s okay! We should celebrate our differences.

[stargazing-enby]

is it crazy to ask for a lil fic of some sort for the soulmate 'saviour' thing?

Not at all! Also, I think it’s funny how I recently said I probably wouldn’t answer any prompts anytime soon, but as soon as you sent this ask I was frantically typing this story on my phone, LOL. Hope you enjoy!

Based on this textpost

Drarry | 2.3k | Teen and up | Soulmate AU, Nicknames, Drunken Confessions, Sectumsempra Scars, Cuddles, Happy Ending | Read on AO3

The Dursleys never acknowledged it; never explained. It was just one more tally on a list of things that made him weird. That made him wrong.

Harry liked to stare down at it while he showered and imagine a thousand different reasons the word Saviour was tattooed on his chest, the ink a deep black that faded into gold around the sharp edges of the letters. He imagined himself flying like Superman did in the comics they kept on the highest shelf of the school library—imagined himself stopping comets from crashing against the planet with his bare hands, saving babies from raging fires. 

In his daydreams, it never mattered if he got hurt. It only mattered that no one else did.

And then one night Hagrid stomped—quite literally—into his life, and he explained. He explained about Voldemort, about the magical world, about his parents. About the lightning bolt scar. 

About the tattoo.

“It’s a soulmark,” he said. “Every witch and wizard has one. It’s meant to symbolise the nickname that your soulmate will give you when you’re together.”

“Do you have a soulmark?” Harry asked him, awed.

Hagrid laughed bitterly. “Nah. My only true loves are magical creatures anyway.” He leaned forward, as though to tell Harry a secret. “You have to be cautious who you share your soulmark with,” he said. “Could be dangerous if too many people knew. Especially with you being Harry Potter. There are… speculations, you see.”

“Oh.” Harry frowned. “What do people think it says?”

“Eh, the usual, you know. Love, honey… many people claim to know that it says whatever their daughter’s favourite word is. Very creepy, if you ask me.”

Harry nodded. “And what do you think it says?”

“Me?” Hagrid seemed uncomfortable by the question. “Well… Dumbledore wouldn’t tell me when we dropped you off at your Aunt’s, so I’ve been trying not to think about it, you know.”

“I don’t mind telling you,” Harry said.

“Really?” Hagrid’s face lit up. “Y-you don’t have to, but—”

Harry snickered, and told him.

He didn’t understand why Hagrid had to wipe away a few tears.

(more under the cut)

***

The first time he was called saviour was in his second year. Ginny, waking up beside him in the Hospital Wing and surrounded by her family, had murmured it without realising. 

From the other side of her bed, Ron had given Harry an indecipherable look. 

Ron’s tattoo was the word Idiot, neatly written on his ankle. Harry also knew Neville’s hip said Schnuckums, and he’d caught the word Flitterby inscribed in Ginny’s wrist when he’d rescued her from the Chamber of Secrets. 

He didn’t think he would ever say such a word. Still, assuming he was Ginny’s soulmate was the obvious conclusion for any twelve-year-old, and Harry spent the next two years convincing himself he and Ginny were meant for each other. 

And then Fleur Delacour called him a saviour when he emerged from the lake with her sister. 

To be fair, Ron had been called an idiot by quite a number of people by then, including McGonagall, Hooch, all of his siblings and half their Gryffindor classmates, so Harry rationally knew that anyone could call another person by their soulmark nickname and not be their soulmate. 

And yet, he spent a whole month sending increasingly confused letters to Sirius before he came to the conclusion that he liked playing Quidditch with Ginny more than he liked holding her hand. 

***

Ron returned to the forest. Hermione, deep bags under her eyes, tears threatening to come out, called him an idiot, and then stormed over to where he was awkwardly standing, launched into his arms, and kissed him.

She’d never told them about her soulmark, but that night Harry learnt the word Love was neatly tattooed on her ankle.

On the same place as Ron’s, then.

***

Harry tore out the page of the Daily Prophet. Then he tore it into small, small pieces until his picture was no longer moving, until the headline—Saviour returns to Hogwarts—turned into a soup of letters in his hands. 

As he threw the bits into the flames, he thought about his parents. He wondered, for what seemed like the thousandth time since he’d first stepped into the Gryffindor common room, if this had been the first place his mum had called his dad a Toerag. If this had been the place where he’d called her his Princess. 

He’d never had the chance to ask Sirius about it. The only time they had talked about soulmates, Sirius had told him no matter how many people called him by the word on his chest, when the right person did it Harry would know. But when Harry had asked Sirius if he’d ever felt that, his expression had turned sombre as he’d shaken his head.

Now, Harry wondered if Sirius had even known what he was talking about. If it was all utter bullshit: the knowing, the butterflies and fireworks he’d imagined after hearing Sirius’ words, the very idea that there was someone out there—someone who would call him saviour, of all things—meant for him at all. If soulmates existed at all, or if it was all a bad joke meant to make him feel like he wasn’t destined to always be alone, even when he was surrounded by people.

***

Things were supposed to be better after the war ended. Harry guessed they were; all around him, the world was pulling itself back together. In a similar way to how his two best friends clung to one another and brought each other up, the castle was slowly becoming the warm, welcoming home it had always been, and so were its inhabitants.

Harry felt like he was sinking. Like he was too broken to be repaired, the wound so deep that nobody seemed to notice it was there.

Perhaps that was what drew him to Malfoy. 

Malfoy, who looked broken, and tired, and as full of hurt as Harry felt. Malfoy, who took months of sitting in silence beside Harry, of half-hearted fights and sleepless nights in the Hogwarts corridors, to open up and tell Harry that nothing felt worth fighting for anymore.

Malfoy, who, a few months after the school year ended, rolled his eyes and mumbled the words bloody saviour as he accepted Harry’s scarf. He’d started sneezing uncontrollably, not dressed appropriately for the changing November weather. 

It took Harry longer than it should have to notice—or perhaps to admit—that the word felt different when it fell from Draco’s lips. That the way Draco would use the word to point out the most mundane things Harry did, the way he’d catch Harry’s smile a moment later, always filled his chest with warmth. 

That Draco was the first person to not make him hate the word in a very, very long time. 

***

Soon the word became an inside joke between them. Soon, it began to come with soft brushes of hands, with private shared looks of mischief, of complicity. Soon, Draco would call him his saviour as Harry handed him the sugar bowl and Harry would just smile into Draco’s neck, and Draco would lean closer, allowing Harry to hide his smile for a second.

He didn’t know why he hadn’t told Draco yet. That saviour was his soulmark. That he was the first person that had made the word sound okay to his ears. 

That he wanted him. That being around him was easy as breathing.

Okay, maybe he did know, even if he tried not to think about it.

He was scared. Scared that this would end—that he was mistaken, and Draco wasn’t really meant for him. After all, wouldn’t Harry have started calling Draco by some cheesy name by now if it was real? Wouldn’t they have talked about it at all? 

“Has anyone ever called you by your soulmark?” Harry asked one night. They were slouched on the sofa of Harry’s shitty flat, as they often did these days, watching some crappy show and snapping back at the telly from time to time.

They never talked about their soulmarks. It made sense, Harry knew it—knowing what someone else’s mark was before you started calling them by it felt a lot like cheating. 

Still, his mind wouldn’t stay quiet; wouldn’t stop telling him all of this, all he had with Draco, would disappear any moment like sand in the wind.

“Plenty,” Draco said, gaze weirdly fixed on the TV. They usually looked at each other more than the screen, each slumped on one arm of the sofa, legs tangled. 

He was trying to hide a reaction, Harry knew.

“Me too.” Harry trailed his eyes to the screen too, but it didn’t catch his interest. He eyed Draco again. “Anyone feel different from the rest?”

Draco met Harry’s gaze. Then he eyed the clock. “I should get going.”

Harry slept badly that night, drowning in thoughts of Draco leaving. Of Draco being called by the word on his skin—a word Harry surely hadn’t said before and would never think to say—by plenty of people. What if Draco was destined for Harry, but someone else was destined for Draco?

***

He stumbled out of the elevator, Draco resting all of his weight on him. As he fumbled with the keys, Draco slurred into his ear. “You really are a saviour, huh?”

“And you’re really drunk,” Harry said, pushing the door open. “Sit down here a second, I’ll make up the sofa-bed.”

“Sleep with me.”

Harry spluttered—pulled back when Draco, leaning dangerously from the chair, tried to grab his jacket. “Wait here,” he said, a little breathless, and disappeared into the living room.

But when he walked back into the kitchen, heart in his throat, Draco’s words whirling in his mind, Draco wasn’t there. 

Harry found him in the bedroom, sat on the bed, a deep frown scrunching his face as he tried to fumble with the buttons of his own shirt. He’d gotten halfway through, and Harry rushed toward him even though the sight had made something in him stir. 

“Hey, stop that—” he started. But Draco, upon realising Harry was back, stood up and stumbled backwards, yanking the top of his shirt, as if to show Harry—

“Yeah, I know. Funny, isn’t it,” Draco said, although there was nothing funny about what Harry was seeing. “You slayed my soulmark in half and then became the sole person that makes my own name mean anything to me.” He laughed to himself.

Draco. The word, tattooed just below the sharp line of his collarbone, was split in half by an angry, deep scar that made the c almost nonexistent.

“We’re…” Harry started, not daring to finish the sentence.

Draco huffed, his sneer exaggerated by the alcohol. “Don’t be daft, Potty. Just because you say my name from time to time it doesn’t mean I would ever say whatever stupid, cheesy nonsense you have tattooed on your pretty arse—”

Harry pulled at the neck of his shirt, pushing aside the flap of his open denim jacket for Draco to see the word written under his collarbone. 

“Not on my arse,” he muttered when Draco just stared at his chest.

A moment later, Draco shook his head. “But—I—didn’t—”

“You didn’t think that word could ever be my soulmark?” Harry asked. “Welcome to my world of disappointment.”

“I—” He shook his head again, stepped closer. “Only called you that because you’d… you’d started calling me by my name, and it felt so…” Draco touched Harry’s chest. He probably meant for it to be gentle, but he was unstable on his feet and ended up leaning forward, eyes closed, his weight on his palm where it pressed into Harry’s skin. “I was terrified. That you’d… that you’d notice. It couldn’t be you. I”—Draco frowned as though in pain—“couldn’t be for you. So I just—thought of the most ridiculous thing to call you, something that you would absolutely not have on your skin, under any circumstances, and I started calling you that so I wouldn’t call you anything else.”

Harry scoffed. At their luck; at the relief that was washing over him. “Good job,” he murmured, and Draco, emitting a low, pained whine, leaned into him completely, resting his chin on Harry’s shoulder.

“Does this mean I can sleep in your bed?” he asked after a long moment.

“Wouldn’t you like that.” Harry, an almost painful smile pulling at his lips, walked a grumbling Draco back to the sofa. 

***

“Hey there,” Harry said. All that came from the bed was a low groan as Draco turned around. He’d gotten out of his work robes and not bothered with his pyjamas, and his eyes were barely open. “Long day at work?”

“Like you wouldn’t imagine,” Draco muttered, even though Harry knew he would hear all about it soon enough. “Hmph. Can’t wait to retire.”

Harry sat on the edge of the bed—pushed his shoes off. “My poor, poor Draco.” He laughed softly, nuzzling Draco’s neck between the sheets. Draco immediately grabbed at him and made him fall on his stomach into the blankets. “Still a few years till that happens, I’m afraid.” 

“Hmphh,” Draco repeated by way of an answer. He sniffed Harry’s hair. 

“Want me to make dinner?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Harry asked, amused.

“Not as much as I want you to stay in bed with me all evening,” Draco murmured.

“There’s an easy solution for that,” Harry said, taking his phone out. “Pizza or sushi?”

“Sushi.” Draco snuggled closer, then scowled. “Take off those hideous jeans.”

“Okay, okay, one second,” Harry laughed as Draco dragged him under the covers. He re-ordered their latest order and left the phone on the nightstand, then pushed his clothes down. “Gimme a foot.”

Draco squirmed in bed and draped a leg on Harry’s chest. When Harry started massaging the sole of his foot, he sighed, a smile finally revealing Harry’s favourite lines on Draco’s face, rather than the ones that formed when he frowned. “Mmm. My saviour.” 

Harry smiled and kissed Draco’s knee.

(Thanks to @spaceaas for betaing and to all the friends that helped me come up with these nicknames!)

[justagenerictardisblog]

NuWho 1.1 Rose; the Plate balancing act

I have so much to say about this episode, yes there is good and bad as an episode, and plot wise. But no matter what the actual content was, it was able to introduce a whole new audience to the show, and was balancing dozens of plates at once doing so.

First of all, it had to introduce the title character, this wild oddball who travels in space and time; had to introduce a companion that had a viable backstory and personality/arc, and had to introduce the whole universe to the audience as a whole.

The doctor, in my opinion a brilliant choice of actor, was brought back as someone who had just finished a horrible war single handedly; so it’s a fresh character fot the ones that didn’t know, and a recognisable one for the ones that did (this seam between new and old, however visible, is constant). It removes the awkward question of what happened in the haitus without scrubbing out the audio and novels. It made him actually annoying too - but I’ll get back to that.

Rose; the titular character. The centeral focus and what the audience should use to get into the world; we see it through her eyes. And she’s different from the ones that came before; she’s not a screamer, but nor is she overly intelligent or futuristic. She is real; a bit of a chav, not particularly educated, fairly content in chips and telly. She’s sort of the new fans, gets swept along because she’s interested, and she shows enough innitiative to be allowed in. We see her family too, we see Jackie and Micky and her world; it’s relatable, particularly for people (like myself - for context I was three when this was aired and didn’t give a shit, I had to rewatch it a year later) who were watching in the early 2000′s with no real idea where this was going.

The use of the autons. Well, it had to be a classic villain, daleks are too heavy for an opening epidose and collectively it takes a lot to be arsed with a sontaron or cyberman episode. And this was a new take on them too, with decent graphics (compared to the old show, I don’t want anyone telling me they were shit; it wasn’t a quarry in wales or made of cardboard), and a sense of danger.

Talking of the production; it showed us this new theme, the goold and red thing that I actually really like, and introduced Murray Gold (best composer of nuwho). It might’ve been a continuation; but it was modern, and it wasn’t hanging around. Also the coral tardis interior and coralish screwdriver shell? What’s everyones thoughts?

No I am not talking about micky and the fucking bin everyone chill it was a three second scene.

Continuing, one of the other things Rose gave us was the character of clive who symbolises the old fans frantically telling everyone under the age of twenty everything that had ever happened in the show up until then who was given this really lovely character backstory and once you realise he’s right about the Doctor it’s really sweet yada yada. Then he’s shot in the face.

It took me a few years to even realise it, again I was young idk what I thought was happening in that scene. But now it’s really telling of RTD’s sense of real danger he created in the show; people suddenly and brutaly could die. the villains weren’t tash twiddling idiots, or the Marvel style ones that never manage to kill more than the guards. The bad in this series was actually bad; Davies invites you to see yourself as part of the doctor who universe and then kills you and your family and you still thank him for it at the end.

Returning to the doctor, he’s not a huge focus in this episode, he’s not the title person and honestly other than yelling and carrying the plot devices in his pockets, he doesn’t do a huge amount, he is just an emblem. A moral code for us all to understand the universe from, knowing fine well he’s more of a soldier than a doctor at this point, he isn’t actually that likeable in several scenes, but he does make you want to find out more, but he’s not above everyone, he wants Rose, as if he wants to move away from the lack of morals he has, having just slaughtered millions, and picks up the first person he finds that clearly has a good moral compass.

All in all, yes there are flaws, the graphics in 2021 are cheap looking, and the war doctor thing kinda doesn’t help the whole thing by bringing back the bloody time lords, but for all the hard work its doing, and the fact it carries most of the explaining for the series on its own, it does an excellent job.

10/10

[thepalace]

In The Royal House.

➳  As a daughter of the general in the royal family, Hyesung’s family's job was to serve the royalties. She is a royal bodyguard and her job was to guard the prince. What happens when the prince has fallen for his own bodyguard?

characters ➵ Yoo Hyesung, Lim Jaebeom 

warnings ➵ cursing.

Hyesung was beside the prince, their horses were just next to each other. The prince nodded, as he whipped the horse, making it to gallop faster.

Hyesung yelled towards the villagers as a way to make a path for the both of them.

She could already see the royal house as both of them pulled the horse roughly as they stopped at their tracks.

"We made it." Prince Jaebeom muttered as he looked at his bodyguard, as she sighs in relief. 

Both of them made their way into the mansion, running up the stairs to go to the throne room, to see everyone already arrived.

"You may join your family." Prince Jaebeom turned towards Hyesung as she bowed, then leaving at the back to join her family.

The prince sighs as he quietly walks towards the side where the King's and Queen's throne are.

"They are tightening the security levels." Hyesung's father explains, giving out a paper towards her.

"What happened? What was that meeting all about?" Hyesung questioned in confusion. The King suddenly had the generals to stand in front of the main entrance, asking them to check each one of the people who are working in the mansion.

"Apparently, there is a hidden assassin among us." Her father was rubbing his temple, earning a shock expression from Hyesung.

"God. No wonder the King was very strict just now."

"It seems that they don't trust us too." said her father.

"What? We've been working with them for years now. Why is he being so shady?" Hyesung whispered and her father sighs.

"I don't know, Hyesung. Let's just follow their rules okay?" Her father said before leaving the confused Hyesung.

As days passed, Hyesung was always stuck with the Prince, going everywhere to where he was.

From the library, the throne room, the meeting room, the kitchen, and the village, since the Prince's job was to walk around the village and see how the villagers were doing.

One night, when the Prince and Hyesung was walking home, he suddenly stopped at his tracks.

"Your majesty?" Hyesung frowned as she too stopped at her tracks.

Hyesung couldn't read Prince Jaebeom's expression as he stared at her.

"Aren't you not tired?" Prince Jaebeom questioned and Hyesung frowned.

"Your majest—

"I mean, I have watched you everyday. You seem.. very high spirit. So you can't be the assassin." Prince Jaebeom stated and Hyesung's eyes widened.

"Oh.. Did you suspect me to be the assassin?" Hyesung's tone came out in disappointment, earning a flustered Prince Jaebeom.

"I mean- I can't help it. Your family has been working with us for years."

"Your highness, your majesties have helped my family in every way. We have no hearts or reasons to hurt your majesties. In fact, we are very grateful to your majesties." Hyesung said in sincerity and it reached out to Prince Jaebeom as his expression softened.

"If that's the case, call me Jaebeom."

Hyesung blinked.

"What? Your high—

"It's Jaebeom, Hyesung."

Hyesung's eyes widened to hear him call her by her real name for the first time. All this while, the Prince has just been calling her by "you" or "hey".

"I can't do that, your high—

"Again, It's Jaebeom. Since you are grateful, call me by my real name." The prince cocked his eyebrows, as he crossed his arms.

Feeling defeated, Hyesung sighs while nodding.

"Okay then, Jaebeom. Let's walk home shall we?" Hyesung offered, earning a small smile from the prince.

They walked home quietly but Hyesung suddenly stopped at her tracks. She tilted her head slightly, her eyes widened as she turned behind to see a few horses galloping towards her way.

"Jaebeom!" Hyesung yelled and the Prince didn't have the chance to even look behind as Hyesung grabbed his arms roughly, making a run for it.

Hyesung finally found a stable. A stable that her family had.  She remembered the conversation with her father.

"Since when we owned horses?"

"Not just normal horses, Hyesung. These horses are only known to the royal family. All of them have different purposes. If you send the black horse to the royal family, it symbolises for safety. Only the royal family knows about these representations."

"Oh. So that means all of them are trained horses?"

"Yes. They even know the way to the royal mansion. Even if you whipped the horse to stop, they won't stop until they reach the royal mansion."

She grabbed the black horse as she already started grabbing the equipment. Prince Jaebeom just watches his bodyguard already placing the equipment on the horse.

She looks terrified, at the same time focused.

"Hyesung, what's going on?" Prince Jaebeom questioned as she finished placing all the equipment then taking out her phone and sending out a few messages.

"It seems that the generals are the assassins." Hyesung mumbled as she put out her phone, and the prince frowned.

"How do you know?"

Hyesung sighs while looking at the horse.

"I saw their faces, though they were wearing masks." Hyesung scoffs, as she turns towards Prince Jaebeom.

"You have to go, your majesty."

"Wait. How about you? You're suppose—

"At this rate, I think the King is going to kick me out. The King doesn't trust us anymore." Hyesung explains as she looks down, and it makes the prince’s heart torn to pieces.

"Hyesung, I can explain to father. Please. Just come with me." Prince Jaebeom pleaded and Hyesung smiled a little.

"Go on, your majesty." Hyesung moves her chin towards the horse. Prince Jaebeom clenched his jaw as he followed his bodyguard's orders.

"So, my bodyguard is leaving me?" teased the prince and Hyesung chuckled.

"Just for today, your highness. I'll be back."

"You better be." Prince Jaebeom muttered, as his grip on the leash tightened. Without any words, Hyesung hits the back of the horse, as it gallops its way out.

That's the first time that the prince’s heart shattered.

It's been 4 hours that the Prince and his bodyguard went missing. When the black horse and the prince arrived, the generals as well as the King and Queen were worryingly waiting for the arrival of the prince.

Their faces beam in happiness when they see the prince. But the Prince didn't look too happy at all.

"Where's your bodyguard, my dear?" The Queen questioned the young prince, as he quietly got off the horse.

If looks can kill, he could just blast out to everyone that was surrounding him. The prince wordlessly walks past everyone, leaving them speechless at the same time confusion.

Few days passed, and it turns out that Hyesung had to attend some important events outside the kingdom.

At the same time, it makes the prince go crazy. He just realised that he fell in love with Hyesung. He felt empty without her presence, it was as if he was lonely.

Everyone noticed the change of the Prince's behaviour. His conversation with the people he is surrounded with, was getting lesser.

He didn't have that bright smile anymore.

It was too obvious, and everyone knows what was the cause of it. Even the King and Queen know the reason for his behaviour.

The young prince wanted his bodyguard back.

"General, when will Hyesung be back? It's already been a week." The King questioned as the General bowed.

"I'm not so sure either, your majesty."

"General, do you need us to do a search party for Hyesung? Hyesung promised to be back by 2 days. But it's already been a week." The Queen stated worryingly but the General kept his pride up.

"It's certainly not necessary, your majesty. Hyesung and I are always in touch. It seems Hyesung knows who is the assassin."

The King's and Queen's eyes widen as they look at each other.

"Is that the reason why she left the young prince?" The King questioned.

"My love, Hyesung is a clever girl. She just wanted the prince to be safe. I'm sure she doesn't want Jaebeom to be hurt." said The Queen while looking towards the King as she turned towards the General.

"General, please keep us updated regarding this. Hyesung might need some help, and we should keep this conversation to ourselves. We don't trust anyone except for you and Hyesung." The Queen instructed and the General nodded.

One day, the King and Queen had to leave the kingdom to settle some errands, hence the generals have to follow them.

Leaving the young prince alone in the royal house. Prince Jaebeom was about to step out of the royal house when there were few guards standing in front of the main gates.

The prince cocked his eyebrows.

"What the heck is going on?" Prince Jaebeom mumbled as he went down the stairs. He stopped at the middle of the stairs, seeing some of them had weapons.

He saw one of the generals walking at the side.

"Ah.. So you're the one who is trying his best to kill me?" the prince’s voice boomed, earning a smirk from the general.

Apparently, it was the general under the finance team. The prince wasn't surprised as he had the feeling that he was responsible with the lost and stolen money of the royal house. 

"Wow, your highness. You are very attentive." The general teased, making Prince Jaebeom to be more mad.

"Oh. Where is your bodyguard that you have fallen for? Is she gone?" The general teased. The prince was glaring at him with fury.

"You son of a—

The Prince stopped himself as he sighs heavily.

"What do you want exactly? Do you want money? Do you want gold?" Prince Jaebeom questioned desperately and the general laughs.

"No. I don't want all of that. I just want the throne."

Is this man serious?

The prince looks at him in disbelief.

"I'm afraid I can't give you the throne, seeing that you are just a commoner." Prince Jaebeom smirks a little, making the General to be sensitive.

"Do you know that any time, these guys can shoot you on the head, Prince Jaebeom?"

"I'm very aware of that." the prince replied with a knowing look.

It was as if the prince was challenging the general. At the same time, there was a gunshot coming from a far.

Soon, the main gates started to open to see guards to run into the royal house while shooting bullets.

"Jaebeom!" A familiar voice called and this time, Prince Jaebeom had the chance to look behind to see his bodyguard running towards him, holding his hands tightly.

"Hyesung?!"

"I'll explain later!"

Hyesung brought the prince towards the maze garden.

"Hyesung! Why—

"Shhh.. Just follow me." Hyesung demanded. Still holding onto each other's hands, the prince just followed his bodyguard and he realised that they were deep in the maze.

"Okay this should do." Hyesung stopped at her tracks, as she turned towards Prince Jaebeom.

"The maze is the only safe hide out. Only the royals know how this maze works." Hyesung smiled. Prince Jaebeom on the hand was staring at Hyesung.

"Jaebeo—

The prince pulls Hyesung into a tight hug, making Hyesung to be flustered. Once Prince Jaebeom let go of her, he cupped her face as his eyes searched onto hers.

"J-Jaebeom? What are you d-doing?" Hyesung was by then already flustered. She could feel her cheeks redden.

"You don't know how crazy I went when you were gone." Prince Jaebeom mumbled and Hyesung sighs.

"I'm sorry, I had things to—

With that, the prince smashed his lips onto Hyesung's, his hands still cupping Hyesung's face.

Hyesung's eyes widen to realise what is going on. Prince Jaebeom is kissing her. His lips were soft and sweet, making Hyesung respond to kiss by opening her mouth slightly.

The prince let go as he stared at Hyesung lovingly.

"I guess I don't have to explain my feelings for you." Prince Jaebeom grinned, earning a chuckle from Hyesung as he began caressing her cheeks.

"Your majesty! Prince Jaebeom! Hyesung!" A familiar voice called, knowing it was Hyesung's father and there were numerous footsteps coming closer.

Prince Jaebeom holds onto Hyesung's, while giving a knowing smile towards his bodyguard, now known as his lover.

➳ masterlist

[hedwigstalons]

High Expectations - Ch6

This editions of Hedwig’s scribbles brings you a young TOS Jeff.  I’ve come to the annoying realisation that my camera squashes things down so the original actually looks a bit longer and narrower than this picture.  Unfortunately my scanner makes everything too white and you lose half the image.  *Sigh*

@willow-salix​ has been her superstar self again with both the fic and the art, I don’t know what I would do without her as a sympathetic critic, putting up with all my wobbles.

Earlier parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five

AO3 chapter link

Chapter Six

It didn’t take long for normality to return for Gordon.  He had given one or two carefully selected interviews in the lull between his medal win and the closing ceremony of the Games but any requests by magazines had been vetoed by Jeff since his return stateside.  Any approaches regarding sponsorship opportunities had been similarly turned away.  Initially the reporters clamoured for the chance to speak to the elusive young star but in the face of continued rejections the requests tailed off.  His obligations were decidedly minimal as he slipped from the public eye.  

With no school making its demands felt Gordon was able to concentrate fully on his swimming; the World Championships and a national competition were both on the horizon and gave him something to aim for.  He often found himself heading out for an additional run or putting in more time at the gym, this was partly to keep in peak condition and partly to escape the oppressive atmosphere in the apartment.  

He had gone from being surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the Games with a team mate around every corner to home with its dwindling population.  

First Virgil had returned to Denver claiming he needed access to the technical facilities, then John had gone back to campus and finally Alan had been sent off to summer camp to spend time in the great outdoors.  If the messages coming Gordon’s way were anything to go by Alan was finding outdoors to be too full of bugs and too lacking in games consoles to be considered great.  

Now it was just him and his father.  Whenever they were in the apartment together he felt like he was under the microscope.  Being judged.  Being appraised.  He tended to stay in his room to avoid the attention.  With no one else around staying in his room was becoming a habit, even when Jeff was out at work.

He vaguely registered the click of the apartment door as his father returned but it was past dinner time and he had already eaten so he didn’t feel any need to emerge.  His father would likely be reading files late into the night.  He expected his contact to be limited to the standard ‘good night’ as he brushed his teeth before bed, he was therefore surprised when a sharp rap sounded on his door.

“Gordon.  My study.”

The footsteps retreated down the corridor leaving no opportunity to ask questions and he couldn’t think of anything he had done to warrant such a summons.  He also knew it didn’t do to keep his father waiting so he paused the film he was watching and made his way to the study.

The door was open so he went straight in.  His father’s big desk faced the doorway and Jeff was already sat back down behind it by the time Gordon entered.  He stepped up and patiently waited to be acknowledged, curious as to why he had been called for.  

“Gordon, I have to go out of town for a few days.”

“Ok.”  

“So you need to decide what you would rather do.  You have two choices; either I can arrange for you to join Alan at summer camp or you can go and stay with Virgil.”

“Honestly, you don’t need to do that.  I’ll be fine by myself for a few days.”

“You are not staying here alone,” Jeff’s voice was stern and intractable.

“I’m not a kid any more Dad.”

“Then maybe you should stop acting like one.  It’s time you grew up and started planning for the future.”

The thought that his father didn’t trust him alone in the house for a few days stung, especially given the number of times he had been responsible for not only himself but Alan too when their father got held up at the office until late.  He was seventeen, he had finished school and he had a gold medal.  Apparently none of that was enough to afford him the privilege of staying home alone.  The thought of being shipped off so his older brother could do babysitting duty was pretty bad but the idea of summer camp was much worse.  Being surrounded by kids mostly Alan’s age and having to take part in enforced activities was not appealing. 

“What about my swimming?”

“I’ve already spoken to your coach.  There are no major competitions for a few months so you can afford some fallow time.”

The thought that Jeff had bypassed him and gone straight to his coach was even more belittling.  It was like being ten years old again with the schedule of events stuck to the fridge and Jeff marking off which ones he could do based on the availability of a chaperone.  

“And you might need to ease up on your swimming anyway.  Now that high school is over you need to work out where you are headed in life.”

And there it was.  The not so subtle reminder that his father didn’t consider swimming to be a viable career prospect.  Even with an Olympic gold and a world record to his name, professional athlete was not on the list of Jeff Tracy approved jobs.  Everything he had worked for just diminished and relegated to the status of hobby.  That’s not to say that his father hadn’t been genuinely proud of his success so far but it was like he had reached the pinnacle and now it was time to move on.  It was one thing to have an Olympian as a son but the next Games were four years away and there was no knowing if Gordon would maintain his position in the world rankings.  World championships had their prestige in the sporting world but didn’t have the same gravitas as the Olympics to non-sporting folks.

Even if the uncertainty of future successes could be put aside Jeff had also made it abundantly clear that he disapproved of the selfishness of the sporting world.  Athletic success didn’t improve the world beyond providing entertainment.  It wasn’t a career that would make a difference.  It wasn’t useful, and just lately usefulness had become an overriding theme in the Tracy household.  

“I’m waiting, Gordon.  Which is it to be?”

He wanted to scream and shout but if there was one way Gordon was a Tracy through and through it was in his ability to keep his emotions contained in the face of adversity, or at least repressed until he was in a safe space.  Only Alan was yet to learn the skill; his youngest sibling wore his heart on his sleeve and Gordon often admired him for the way he could express himself freely, even if it sometimes led to blazing rows with their patriarch.   His broad shoulders slumped a little.  It was a done deal that he was being sent away for the duration of his father’s business trip.  He knew there was no point arguing and antagonising his father.

“Denver, please.”  Gordon’s normally cheerful voice was carefully neutral, a testament to the feelings he was keeping in check.  He wondered if he would ever be afforded the privilege of being treated like an adult or whether he would forever be a child in his father’s eyes; a person to be managed and directed rather than trusted as an individual.

Having received an answer Jeff considered the interview concluded and turned back to his tablet to book the required flight.  He might have a private jet at his disposal but he would need that for his own trip.  Gordon would be flying commercial, as usual.  An early morning flight was soon arranged and Jeff was able to return to his work, scrolling through the multitude of files related to his latest project.  He looked up to reach for his coffee and seemed surprised that Gordon was still stood in front of him.

“Go and pack, Gordon.”

Summarily dismissed Gordon returned to his room.  Clothes and toiletries were thrown haphazardly into a bag.  He took his anger out on the drawers of his dresser, yanking them out and slamming them shut.  The clothes hangers in his closet rattled and tumbled to the floor as he yanked down shirts.  He looked at his Team USA kit; the formal blazer and whites covered in a protective dust jacket next to the tracksuit worn poolside between heats.  The uniform was a painful reminder of his achievement that already seemed to be forgotten by the father he tried so hard to please.  The garments were thrown to the floor of the closet to lay in a crumpled heap on top of his shoes.

Just a few short weeks ago those two outfits had symbolised his achievements.  Proof that, as far as America was concerned, he was worthy.  He remembered the thrill of pulling on the garments for the first time, the cut of the blazer emphasising his broad chest and shoulders.  They were his uniform.  His battle dress.  After the Games he had carefully hung them up as a reminder of everything he had worked for, a sign that all the sacrifices had been worth it.  Now they screamed failure rather than success.  Failure to live up the narrow ideals of his father.  He kicked out at a trailing sleeve that had flopped over the threshold of the closet then slammed the door on the rumpled mess.

Gordon flung himself onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling.  He knew he was acting the petulant teenager his father viewed him as but sometimes it was hard not to revert to type when you never had the opportunity to prove yourself to be anything different.  Anger bubbled up inside him.   Just because he wasn’t like the others with their perfect grades and traditional life choices it felt like he would never be allowed to make his own decisions.  Even the career he had strived towards and made so many sacrifices for was being slowly taken away.  How dare his father speak to his coach about training commitments.  How dare he sideline the one talent Gordon possessed.  In all other areas he was measured up and found wanting but the medal above his bed and the world record in the history books were irrefutable evidence that he could make his mark in the world and be an individual in his own right.

The seething injustice coloured Gordon’s dreams that night.  His sleep was restless and more than once his legs became twisted in the sheets, dragging him back to wakefulness in order to free the constricting restraints.  When the morning alarm marked the end of the night, disturbing his dozing form and forcing away the last vestiges of sleep Gordon felt distinctly unrefreshed.  However, years of practice at taking himself to early morning swimming training meant he was able to resist the temptation to stay in bed and so he was ready, bag in hand, when the car arrived to take him to the airport.  Evidently his father’s commitments were too heavy to allow him to perform this duty and Gordon was graced with only a brief goodbye before being handed into the custody of a driver.

xoxoxox

Denver was tiny compared to Los Angeles.  It was still a sprawling metropolis compared to the backwater towns of Kansas but Gordon instantly felt more at home in the mid-western air.  He felt like he could finally breathe again.  He had never felt settled in Los Angeles with its inescapable traffic and permanent glow.  A city that never slept.   

When he had first been told of the move to the coast he had been excited at the prospect of living so close to the ocean that held his fascination.  It was an odd obsession for a boy brought up as far from the sea as it was possible to get but Gordon had always felt drawn to water in all its forms.  The few coastal holidays they had managed were filled with happy memories of rock pooling, snorkelling and learning the dangers of his beautiful aquatic mistress but in Gordon’s eyes the Los Angeles waterfront was a shallow imitation of what the barrier between land and sea should be.  The sculpted beaches filled with sculpted bodies held no appeal.  After one visit shortly after arriving in the city Gordon never went down to the waterfront again.

Virgil was there to meet him in the airport arrival’s lounge.  Dressed in his habitual plaid he was easy to spot.  Gordon soon found himself relieved of his bag as Virgil swung it over one shoulder with ease.  It wasn’t that Virgil thought him incapable, it was just the way he was.  Brother or not, Gordon was his guest and carrying your guest’s bag was a courtesy that had been instilled in each of them from an early age.  A brotherly arm was draped across his shoulders and he found himself drawn into a brief embrace before they walked companionably towards the taxi rank.

It didn’t take long to reach Virgil’s apartment which was situated a short stroll from campus.  The campus itself was still eerily quiet, mostly populated by faculty and a few postgrads like Virgil who had stuck around to work on projects.  Term, and the influx of undergraduates that came with it, was yet to start.  The streets surrounding the campus were free of the term time hustle and bustle created by the transient student population and the area had a calm serenity that contrasted sharply to the buzzing city Gordon had recently left.

The apartment was the epitome of masculine design, each item of furniture or decoration a clear reflection of its occupant.  There was an eclectic mix of high end items and junk store finds, set off by hand crafted pieces made by Virgil himself.  Comfortable, functional and strong, the whole ensemble coordinated perfectly.  Virgil’s habitat had grown organically over his few years of occupation, it was now as warm and friendly as its owner and a place that you couldn’t help but relax in.

It felt more homely than the Los Angeles apartment which always had an air of echoing emptiness.  Jeff had wanted to ensure that his older boys had a space to come back to and call their own and with money no object the city pad he had procured was obscenely large for a place normally occupied by just three people.  The executive styling added to the cold and impersonal air of the place.  It was an environment where people co-existed rather than lived and the extra rooms for absent siblings only seemed to enhance the feeling of loneliness.  It felt good to be in Denver rather than Los Angeles, even if the reason for the visit stung.

Gordon sat down on the couch, bouncing slightly to test its springiness.  The apartment was a compact, one bedroomed affair and he knew the couch would be his bed for the next few nights.  The sound of a coffee maker and the chink of mugs from the kitchen showed that Virgil still had his caffeine addiction and the warm aroma of good coffee was soon filling the space, adding to the general air of comfort.  Before many minutes had passed his brother was back beside him and two brimming mugs sat steaming the coffee table 

“Hey, so you decided to come check out my school.  It’s a great place here, you’ll love it.  I can show you around all the labs and things while it’s still quiet, maybe introduce you to some of the faculty depending on what area you want to specialise in.”

Virgil’s enthusiasm was met with stunned bewilderment.

“Dad said you were looking at college, right?” he probed, tentatively. 

Evidently this trip wasn’t just about Gordon not being trusted at home.  Even from afar his father was making his intentions clear and pushing his own agenda of what he expected of his sons.  Virgil watched as the teenager in front of him stiffened, a defensive shell seeming to rise up around Gordon and a sullen look appeared across the features which had seemed so relaxed and at ease until that point. 

“No, Dad just didn’t want me staying home alone.  Look, I’m sure it’s great for you but I’ve got no plans for college at all.  In case you hadn’t noticed I’m not exactly college material.”

Witnessing the self-depreciation from his brother stung.  Busy lives meant he hadn’t spent much time alone with Gordon in the last few years.  The young man in front of him was clearly hurting and Virgil’s caring nature was screaming at him to make it better but he felt woefully ill-equipped to counsel the troubled teen.  

“I’m sure that’s not true.  You’d be able to go to college if you wanted to.  You’re smart; you were hardly at school the last two years and you still managed to graduate with good marks.”

Gordon turned sorrowful eyes on his brother, he had never been able to be angry with Virgil and fighting with the gentle giant didn’t come naturally.  There was something about Virgil that reminded him of Mom; something that invited him to open up, safe in the knowledge that he wouldn’t be judged.

“And what if it’s not what I want?  Sometimes it feels like I don’t have any say in my life.  Dad wants me to stop swimming.  Do you have any idea what that feels like?”

Truth be told, Virgil didn’t.  He had only ever met encouragement for his plans, he had been supported and his passions had been indulged.  Music lessons and art classes had co-existed with school, ensuring he had a therapeutic release from his more traditional studies.  His desire to study engineering had been greeted with enthusiasm and a generous allowance.  To hear that a brother was being expected to give up their passion was a surprise to him.

“I’m sure Dad only wants what’s best for you.”

“Yeah, it always comes down to what Dad wants.”  There was a snort of derision.  “But news flash Virgil, I’m not like the rest of you.  I’m never going to get into Harvard or Yale or anywhere else Dad would approve of.  And I don’t want to.  I have one thing I’m good at and now that’s being taken away.”

“I’m sure that’s not true Gordo, there are lots of things you’re good at.  Look, maybe college isn’t the right place for you but don’t sell yourself short.  It sounds like you and Dad just need some space apart from each other for a bit.  He’s got a lot on at the moment, there’s a big project in the pipeline and you know how focussed he can get when that happens.  You know, you are always welcome here if you need some breathing space.  And I promise, no campus tour unless you want it.”

“Thanks Virg.  Maybe a break will do me good.  It’s all just so tense back home.”

Gordon felt a heavy arm slung over his shoulders as he was drawn in to a hug that held more meaning than the brief embrace of greeting he had received earlier.  Virgil had always been the most free of the siblings in showing his love physically.  With Virgil moved out Gordon couldn’t remember the last time he had received a hug from anyone other than Alan and those were becoming more rare and awkward as the pair aged. 

His initial instinct was to push away but he didn’t want to hurt Virgil’s feelings.  He could feel the beating of the larger man’s heart and he found the rhythm soothing.  The tension he hadn’t even realised he was carrying began to slowly dissipate and he melted into the soft cotton of Virgil’s shirt.  He took a few deep breaths to steady himself before slowly pushing himself out of the embrace.  

“Better?”

He nodded, not yet trusting himself to speak.

Gordon settled back and savoured the coffee.  Perhaps the time in Denver wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

[handsheartsouleyes]

buttercup. // jhs. x reader.

HANAHAKI AU.

hufflepuff!hoseok, ravenclaw!reader/gender neutral!reader, ravenclaw!namjoon.

warnings; blood, and angst obvi.

word count; 4.3k

Something wasn’t right. You could feel it, not only deep in your gut but in your chest. Something was definitely wrong and it was hard to ignore as you tried to focus on the notes you had meant to be taking during physics, but your mind was full of something else, hence as to why you were scribbling idly on the sides of your notebook, dragging your quill easily across the paper as you fought the urge to draw his name. Your chest felt uncomfortably tight, and the feeling of something growing in it caused worry to grow over you like a sudden storm cloud enveloping itself around you. You could feel the drumming of something soft hammering against your lungs, the touch as light as a feather, but with the numbers increasing so did your worry. The soft feathers, you called them, floated around in your chest for what felt like forever as you focused your hardest on your paper, trying to figure out what was happening. Petals.

You never knew why you felt like this, you just always noticed it always seemed to happen around him. It was confusing at first, but your understanding only seemed to grow as it only ever did happen around him, and it was slowly but surely becoming clear to you. You were sick, and it was his fault.

A scowl grew on your face as the harsh words in your mind seemed ruthless on him, but your heart was weakest for him and you hated the vulnerability. Your mind slowly drifted back to what you thought was the sickness, it confused you like many things did. It wasn’t clear to you as to why you were sick, but you never told a soul. No one knew of your turmoil, and you planned to keep it that way. Guilt built up in your chest as you thought of your best friend whom you knew would be worried sick, knowing of your recent coughing fits, even offering to stay in your dorm with you if you didn’t want to go to class. Your mind slowly started to drift back to the cause of everything, and you bitterly laughed as you recalled all the times you choked up the petals just to spend a simple five minutes with him, although it seemed to kill you inside every single time, you endured it. You’d endure anything for him.

You finally mustered up the courage to break your strong glare on the paper below your arms as you let your eyes wander over to where he was sat. He sat bent over his desk, his auburn hair falling over his eyes as his nose scrunched up into the small crinkle you loved oh so much, a habit of his, as his eyes were glued to his book as his nose dug further into it, a small laugh escaping your chapped lips as you observed the dashing male. And once again you were reminded of what was happening to you. You sighed out in frustration, out of frustration to the fact that a simple glance at the boy could get your heart running and the petals banging aggressively against the inside of your lungs. You stood up clumsily, a few pens falling off your table as you tried to leave the classroom as fast as possible, knowing what was coming. You excused yourself as you ran out, not without catching a few strange glances, trying to find the closest bathroom which thankfully was across the hall. You could feel the worried eyes of Hoseok burning into your back as you retreated into the marble room.

Jung Hoseok. Mr Hoseok Jung. The instigator behind your entire situation, albeit he didn’t know a single thing about it. And he had no idea how much pain he was just putting you through. As soon as you stepped into the bathroom petals were already leaving your mouth before you could even reach a stall, and once you reached one you let everything out, shamelessly belching the petals that were so beautiful but so painful to look at. You looked down at the yellow petals in horror as your mind tried to calculate just what was happening to you. Sunflowers. You absolutely loved sunflowers, from the height to the beautiful yellow of the petals, but they looked absolutely hideous leaving your mouth like that. A huge wave of confusion washed over you as you tried to comprehend why it was happening. The pain in your throat becoming unbearable as if Hoseok himself was standing in the stall with you, slowly tighten barb wire around your neck. You squeezed your neck tightly as you tried to soothe the pain.

You were racking your mind to figure out if you had read anything in the disease that seemed to be infecting your body, but your mind was blank. You ran to the library to try to find any material you could on the sickness. You flicked through multiple books before pulling out one that looked promising. You read the pages and your heart broke.

Flower Curse; a disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love.

You couldn’t help your heart from breaking into pieces.

-

Sunflowers.

They were said to be “false riches” because of Spanish explorers thinking they were made of real gold. I guess in this scenario, it’s showing your false hope.

-

You watched him intently as he conversed happily with other students. He was always so bright, he was radiant in the room and everyone and anyone wanted to be the one who he smiled at, and you admired that about him. He had multitudes of beautiful features that would make him stand out in any crowd. You watched him as he smiled at her like he always did. You hated the fact that she was the reason behind his smile, and you could feel that hatred blooming in your chest. She was one of the biggest reasons as to why you didn’t confess, his heart was already stolen. He was already in love, and your pride made you hold everything in, for him. You felt as if you weren’t enough, for him at least. He smiled brightly at her and it was shining in the classroom. You could hear the petals now, they were begging for your attention, the attention that you refused to give them.

You were once again reminded of what was growing inside your body, of what was slowly killing you inside. The flower petals flew around freely in your chest, coating the walls of your lungs in bright colours. You were completely oblivious to how dangerous your condition was and how it was affecting you. But for now, you focused on the male who sat with so much happiness radiating off of him it was hard not to smile.

You stumbled into your house’s common room and immediately let out what you had been holding all day. A variety of colours spilt onto the floor as you crouched over in pain. You caught the worried gaze of your best friend, Kim Namjoon, who looked away from the fire that he was so intently watching before. Worry washed him as he watched you.

Orange lilies. Such a pretty flower, but such an ugly sight to see blooming in your chest. Your coughs turned into gags and soon you were hacking out aggressive gags, trying your best to get out the flower that made itself at home in your throat. You no longer threw up pathetic petals, they were full flowers. The orange lilies terrified you as they laid on the ground fully intact. You held the last fully bloomed flower in your hands, your eyes slowly blurring from the pain that resonated in your throat from what abuse it had just gone through

You could feel the harsh stare from your best friend who was speechless. You lifted your gaze from the flowers to meet his eyes. He could see it. He could see the fear that drowned your beautiful eyes. He had no idea how to react to what he had just witnessed, but he was quick to your side as his large frame enveloped your fragile body. He held you tightly against his front, he didn’t need an explanation, he just knew you needed him. You cried in his arms for what felt like hours and it pained him incredibly, he didn’t want to see you in pain like this. More flowers spilt from your mouth as he held you tightly, this time red and white. He expected an explanation, which you could not give him right now. For now, he held you tightly against his chest and cradled you as if you were the most precious thing in his world.

-

Orange Lilies.

They are said to symbolise hatred, pride and disdain. You hated the girl and Hoseok for what they did to you, and it embarrassed you.

Anemones.

They are said to symbolise fragility, while the red and/or pink are said to symbolise death or forsaken love.

-

Hoseok noticed. He noticed how your demeanour always changed around him, how your eyes always stayed on his figure for a second or two longer, and how you acted as if you were being cautious. He was confused as to why you acted like this. It wasn’t until the day you had run out of the classroom, flowers spilling from your mouth into your hand. It was barely noticeable, yet he noticed. He always did. He understood exactly what you were going through because he had gone through it himself in his fourth year, when he had fallen for a sixth year from Gryffindor who wouldn’t give him the time of day. And so he did the thing he thought would be best for you, he distanced himself.

He never glanced your way anymore and graced you with the presence of his warm smile that always made your day, it broke your heart. You watched him desperately from across the table. You were currently in class and you were assigned a group project, Hoseok being in your group and completely ignoring your existence. He glanced around the classroom looking incredibly uninterested, ignoring you as if he had lost all interest in not only you but the entire project. Your group discussed who would be assigned to which part of the project before the devil himself stood up abruptly, pulling his bad with him, “Sorry guys,“ he apologised as he gathered his things, “my girlfriend is waiting.”

His explanation was brief and he tried his best to keep it just at that, grabbing his robe and clutching it tightly before leaving the empty classroom you all had been meeting in, the guilt that boiled in his stomach was slowly eating away at his insides. The tight grin you always wore faltered as you stood up a few moments after Hoseok had left, “Miss Sprout had asked me to help her with the Mandrakes she has been harvesting, I hate to leave like this,” the lie flowed out of your mouth easily as you quickly gathered your things and basically ran out of the classroom.

You sprinted towards the Ravenclaw common room which would most likely be empty, your last period was free and you had just finished your fifth meaning you would now be alone. Once you reached the common room you spluttered out the password and the portrait swung open, you wanted to get in as soon as you could before more flowers would leave your mouth. Namjoon stood near the entrance, pacing worriedly and instantly came to your side when you walked in and caught you before you could reach the ground. He had been waiting because someone had told him about your behaviour in class today.

You had no tears this time, as if you were beyond that pain. It overtook you to the point where you felt numb, emotionless. As if you had surpassed the breaking point, as if you had been stripped of all your feelings. Yellow flowers spilt past your lips as you didn’t have to struggle for the dainty things to come out. You could feel it. You could something stuck in your throat as you pushed away Namjoon’s arms causing you to fully collapse, not having the strength in your legs to keep yourself up. You clawed at your neck, gasped for air just trying to get that thing out, and you coughed, and coughed and coughed. You gagged as you strived to get whatever was in your throat, out of it. Yellow flowers kept spilling out, so much to the point you were laying in them, and slowly they came out covered in a crimson liquid that you hated oh so much.

You kept clawing at your throat, the object was still in there and it was beyond painful. Namjoon could only watch in horror as you laid with the flowers that were once yellow, screaming out in pain and all he could do was stand there like a clueless fool. Your screams came out pained, as you tried to get that stupid thing out of your throat, but once again only more flowers spilt out. And it all happened so quickly, you hadn’t even realised that it had come out, maybe the flowers had washed it out but now it sat in front of you, glaring at you.

Namjoon got down onto his knees after he snapped out of it and brought you into his arms, hoping that just maybe his embrace would bring you any type of comfort as you both looked at the object that had come out of your mouth, terrified beyond belief.

A root. A root coated in your blood. It wasn’t small, it was as wide as two of your fingers and as tall as your entire hand but it was thin and nimble. How could that have come out of your throat? You didn’t know, yet here it was sitting in front of you, glaring at you. What you did know was that this sickness, this disease, was killing you.

-

Yellow Carnations.

They are said to symbolise rejection and disdain. Hoseok only wanted to help, but it only made things worse, both for you and him.

-

You cried on the floor as your best friend, Namjoon, watched you with heartbroken eyes, wishing for all of this to be over. You looked up at him with desperate eyes, silently begging for all of this to end. You tiredly explained you encounter with Hoseok earlier, trying not to let your sobs interrupt your story as you tried your best to explain everything in detail, “Joon,” your voice was hoarse as a few petals fell past your lips, “it hurts, so so much.”

Namjoon couldn’t do anything, he was incredibly hopeless in this situation and all he could in this situation was hold you, and that’s what he did. His eyes glazed over as he watched his best friend in so much pain, he took you in his arms again and slowly swayed in hopes of calming you down, “I know, I know..” he whispered out painfully, trying his best to console you, to stop your cries, your sobs were loud.

Sooner or later he had picked up your smaller frame and took you to one of the sofas in the common room, hoping the soft light from the fireplace could comfort you, and you fell asleep against him, small sniffles leaving your mouth, “How could he hurt you so carelessly?” He thought aloud to himself as he glanced over your tear stricken face. You hadn’t looked so peaceful in what felt like forever, and your calmness was beautiful to him as if nothing could harm you, as if you had no worries in the world. You couldn’t feel the pain, and that’s all he had been begging for the past few days.

He slowly stood up and magicked away the flowers from earlier, picking up the root before the portrait swung open, a first-year followed by the last person he wanted to see at that moment. Anger boiled in his blood as his eyes raced toward you, who laid innocently on the couch, anyone would just assume you were napping not knowing of your turmoil, “Hoseok-ah,” he greeted his peer as politely as he could, “what brings you here?”

“I wanted to check up on Y/N,” Hoseok simply explained, not being able to see you from where he was standing next to the tunnel toward the portrait, “Y/N didn’t look well during the meeting today,” He scratched the back of his neck nervously as a sheepish smile was painted on his face. He felt extremely terrible for how he behaved towards you and became incredibly worried when he saw you sprinting out of the classroom and toward the Ravenclaw common room.

“Y/N’s feeling a bit sick, but they’ll be on their feet again sooner or later. Thank you for checking up, though.” Namjoon lied through his teeth, technically it wasn’t a lie and Hoseok knew that himself. And Hoseok took that as his cue to leave.

He stood outside of the common room as a wave of sadness washed over him, “I’m sorry,” he muttered softly, a tear sliding down his cheek before he left the portrait who watched him as if he was a mad man.

Namjoon went back to the couch and he could see more flowers next to your head. Had they left your mouth when you were sleeping? How often did this happen? He wondered, he knew these were questions he could never ask you so he was always left to wonder. The flowers were purple and they looked so terrifyingly beautiful laid next to you, if no one knew the context they would think of it as just beautiful.

-

Purple Hyacinth.

It is said to mean “forgive me”, the perfect apology flower, but in this context, it’s your nightmare.

-

Maybe it wasn’t the best choice for you and everyone around you, but you did it anyway. You were sick and tired of the pain you went through daily for nearly two months. Petal after petal, flower after flower, root after root. You hated the pain, not only had it affected you but everyone around you. And you hated to be a burden to them, no matter how much they denied the fact that you were a burden, you knew the truth. It made them tired, and you were beyond exhausted. Namjoon was practically worrying his head off 24/7, and you wanted to end not only your pain but his pain, and whether yours was worse was the least of your worries.

And so you both approached Madam Pomfrey and begged her to take you to get the surgery. Your parents were told by owl and they apparated to Hogsmeade that night where they escorted you to St. Mungos. That was just before the term had ended for the Easter break, you hadn’t returned the next term and never left the house during summer. The surgery was a success, and no one had to worry anymore. That’s what you told yourself constantly. You were cured of the sickness, but now you sat in the common room, an empty vessel as everyone hurried around out of excitement, it was the year for the Triwizard Tournament and the Ravenclaw common room was booming with the excited screams of all the gals and pals.

Namjoon looked at the time and noticed it was now time for the welcoming feast, and so he dragged you out of the common room and through the castle towards the Great Hall. You didn’t resist, you didn’t want him to worry about you but you knew he did, he always did. You pulled your arm from his grasp before turning the opposite direction, muttering an excuse to use the toilet and he could only watch your back disappear into the crowd with a worried gaze.

You thought about the last five months that had passed, they were hell. You hated every second of it and you couldn’t understand why you didn’t feel relieved these past five months. Now there was just a void, an empty you felt as if could never be filled. Namjoon visited you often, as often as he could and he was an amazing company to have, and he always made sure he left you smiling, and your parents loved him to the end of the earth for it. Your parents were your shadow, always watching you even if they thought they were being inconspicuous. Hoseok hadn’t popped up in your mind at all, now that you thought about it. All you could think of were the flowers, the different coloured petals, the blood-covered roo-

You were brought out of your train of thoughts when you collided with something, or rather a person. Suddenly there was a high pitched voice in your ear that sounded too happy to see you thought caused you to flinch. The voice greeted you and you instantly recognised it. Seo Areum. Hoseok’s current fling. How she knew you in the first place? You had no idea, you had never spoken to her before this interaction so you only gazed down at her in confusion before you painted a smile on your face, or at least what you thought was a smile. You nodded your head in acknowledgement before you continued your way down the hall, trying to find a bloody bathroom.

But before you could go any further a hand caught your wrist, and your eyes caught his. Jung Hoseok. It’s been months since you had last seen him, thought of him, and you wanted to jump up in happiness. Not because you’re seeing him after what felt like forever, but because your heart didn’t flutter when your eyes met, the familiar feeling of a blush creeping it’s way up your neck was nowhere to be seen. You didn’t feel a damn thing while looking at him and you wanted to jump up in glee and scream out eureka. Your pain was over. But you bit back all of your joy and stared monotonously at the boy in front of you, “Oh, hi Hoseok.”

Your voice showed no interest at the young couple and both of their expressions faltered. Hoseok’s eyebrows furrowed as he noticed how different you behaved. Your usual blush was nowhere to be seen and you held the eye contact instead of your eyes shooting everywhere nervously. Your eyes held close to no emotion, he could only see boredom. You glanced at him briefly, not even caring to hold eye contact anymore, but you noticed his eyes and how they glazed over with disappointment. You had to fight the urge to laugh bitterly at him, “What is it, Hoseok?”

Your harsh tone brought him out of his thoughts, he noticed he hadn’t replied to your greeting and you noticed how less and less students were passing you, they all must be in the Hall eating now. Areum glanced between the two of you confusedly, mostly confused with Hoseok who stood there speechless, “Oh- I- um-” he stuttered as he removed his hand from your wrist, a small embarrassed blush creeping up his neck. A loud voice boomed in the hall the three of you were currently standing, as Namjoon called out your name happily, a small grin on his face as he ran towards the three of you. A small grin made its way onto your face when you caught sight of the goofy brunette and the large shit-eating grin he wore.

“Hey Hoseok, Areum,” Namjoon greeted the young couple happily, slightly out of breath from how fast he had run out of the Hall when one of the third-years had let spilt that you were currently talking to Hoseok and Areum in a hall, alone. And so he came to your rescue. You stared at him, feeling something growing in your chest again, but it definitely felt different this time. They didn’t feel like those terrifying flowers, it felt warm. As if you had just taken the first sip of your coffee on a winter day, the warmth spreading through your chest into your entire body. Merlin, it felt incredible.

Namjoon took your hand in his as he smiled down at you, “Let’s get out of here,” and you happily let you drag him away. Hoseok watched the scene that unfolded in front of him, he recognised the look on your face, your gaze, your smile. He had seen it on so many people, including his girlfriend. It was the look of pure happiness, a gaze full of nothing but love, and a genuine smile. Namjoon had taught you love, and my did you love him so much, and he loved you more than you could ever imagine. He was so genuine, your bond as unbreakable as an unbreakable vow. You had no clue what the future had in mind for you, you just wanted to have a future with him.

Hoseok almost felt selfish, thinking he’d have you forever. Thinking if things didn’t go well with any of the girls he had a fling with, he could turn to you for comfort. And now he regretted everything knowing you’d never fall into his palm again. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken you for granted, maybe you would’ve been in his arms instead, gazing at him with those loving eyes. But reality never is on our ides, is it? And so he took his girlfriend’s hand and walked out of that hall, his heart aching knowing you could never be his. He hugged Areum in his arms as he fed her empty promises, not noticing the petal that fell out of his mouth and stuck itself onto his lip. He felt the small dainty thing and picked it up off of his lip, and he could’ve recognised the orange flower anywhere. Even if it was just a petal. How could he not recognise his favourite flower?

-

Butterfly Weed.

It is said to quite literally mean, “leave me,” or “let me go”. Quite a beautiful flower, quite a sad meaning. You had forgiven him but you would never forget.

fin.