#i have lots of miraculous salt in my little body?? but at the same time lots of sugar

[mydarlingclaudia]

fish boy

note : divider is from @/cafekitsune. I also wrote this because I was inspired by this drawing by @sillydicejelly please go look at their art it’s very pretty! this is another summer fic because I’m not ready for summer to be over ugh. I liked writing this a lot but I did feel kinda silly towards the end

wc : 2.8k

tags : @lottiies

desc : he saves you from drowning and you come back each year, falling in love was easy. strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, I think angst (towards the end), not proofread, re2 and re4 Leon, gn!reader, au

It started back in 1997 when you were nineteen. Your family went to the beach for a week in the summer, like you do every year. Your family had a beach house there that they’d had since before you were born, you’d been going there your whole life, you’ve never noticed anything strange. Most days were the same; go into town, window shop and buy as much ice cream you could stomach, go home and swim until you couldn’t feel your arms, roast your skin, play with your cousins, eat, sleep, repeat.

But nothing stays the same forever, sometimes that was a good thing, sometimes that was a bad thing. But this change was just… odd.

One night you were just having a hard time, you and your mom had gotten into a fight earlier in the afternoon and it had just thrown off the rest of your day. You went out that night, maybe around ten after everyone had gone to bed, the wind was harsh, the water was harsher. That didn’t stop you from jumping into the water to try and let the cold water ease your mind.

It didn’t work, though. One big, unexpected wave had toppled you over in the deep water, and before you knew it, you were gulping down salt water, unable to tell up from down.

Miraculously, you didn’t die, even though you should have. You had lost consciousness, though. You didn’t know where you were when you woke up, all you could make out was a small shore, surrounded by cliffs and overgrown weeds, no one else in sight.

Except for a boy.

He was blonde, pretty, pale, too. There was something a bit odd about his face, but you brushed it off as your bleary eyes adjusting. You don’t remember what you said to him, mostly because you didn’t even know what you were saying when you said it, but he had helped you sit up and you rested against his shoulder, one of his hands awkwardly patting your back. It felt comfy, you could ignore the ache in your body and how heavy your lungs felt and just focus on his wet skin pressed against yours.

This must have been what Eric felt like when he was saved by Ariel in The Little Mermaid.

When your eyes finally did adjust, and you got a good look at him, you realized that the oddity of his face was scales that lined his cheekbones back towards his ears, and that his ears weren’t even ears, but webbed ones, like some sort of deep sea creature. You had backed away from him, a confused expression painted on your face while a slightly pained one was etched onto his.

Your eyes hadn’t been able to focus on a single part of him, flicking between his tail, his webbed hands, the gills that lined his throat, his sea-matted hair, the blue tint that surrounded his fingers and gills, everything. You had to be dead, there was no other explanation, but his voice had been so soft when he spoke to you, that you almost wanted to scoot closer again.

“Listen I-I just- you’re- I think I hit my head.” You had sputtered out, one of your hands flying up to feel against your head for any bumps.

“I checked already, you didn’t.” The fish boy had reassured you, pushing himself closer to you.

“I-I didn’t?” Your eyes were glued to him the whole time he had moved himself closer to him, you didn’t back away this time.

“You didn’t, I promise.” You flinched when he reached up to peel your hand away from your head, making him stop for a second, those pretty blue eyes of his robed over your face for another second before he pulled your hand away.

“So-so what? What happened?” He let go of your wrist, placing both his hands down on the sand, his eyes were yet to leave yours.

“You were gonna drown.”

“A-And you saved me?” He nodded, you let out a shaky breath. “So I’m not imagining this?” He shook his head this time. “Jesus, where are we?”

“By the lighthouse,”

“The lighthouse?! That’s like, what, four miles away? Goddamn.” You groaned, that explained why no one was around.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I-I guess.” You watched as his eyes trailed down to your bare legs.

“… I’ve never met a human before.” He mumbled.

“I’ve never met a mermaid- merman- uhm, fish boy, I dunno.” He looked you dead in the eye again for a few seconds, then let out a giggle and shook his head, you had smiled at him.

You had to admit that this strange creature was kinda cute, you didn’t doubt that he could probably overpower you, but he had been gentle with you so far. He stopped laughing as you stood up, watching the way the muscles in your legs flexed.

“Shit, my families gonna be wondering where I am.” You had told him, putting your hands behind your head and pacing around in a small circle.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to take you back.” You stopped your pacing, looking back down at him and the dumb smile he had on his face.

“You are?”

“I mean… yeah? Why would I save you just to leave you stranded?” He chuckled, you huffed.

“Well, thank you.”

He was a strong swimmer, that shouldn’t have surprised you, he had helped you swim along when you got too tired to do it. You had told him to just leave you at a spot along the beach that was secluded because it’s right where ships would dock and that you’d just walk the rest of the way back home. Before you had left, he had eagerly told you his name, you told him yours. The two of you had lingered for a few seconds longer than necessary, him in the water, you on land.

You felt like thanking Leon again wouldn’t be a good enough way to show your gratitude for saving you, you didn’t really know how to properly thank him yet, but you had suggested meeting in the same place the next day shortly after sunrise. Leon bit, eagerly.

You were surprised when Leon showed up the next day. And the day after that, the next day, too, and every day after. He’d bring you shells and sand dollars, you’d bring him human treasures (coins, candy, ice cream, anything).

Leon would let you look at him, because the more you looked, the more intrigued you became with him, and he liked that feeling. You found more blue scales littered across his arms, he let you touch them. You liked his tail a lot, all the pretty blue and tan scales that shimmered in the sunlight paired with strong fins that were rough to the touch.

You could spend hours talking to Leon, and you did, your family would ask you where you were running off to, you’d just say it was a boy in town, it wasn’t really a lie. He’d ask you about all the places you’ve been to on land, you’d ask him about the ocean.

Leaving was hard. You had promised him you’d come visit again, maybe even on your own a few times a year. But you had promised Leon that you would be back the same time next year. You’d never forget how he frowned and nodded his head, asking you for another keepsake. You gave him a bracelet you bought in town.

—

You had the whole year to look forward to seeing Leon again. When you arrived on the beach in 1998, you were almost certain he wouldn’t show. As far as you knew, mermaids didn’t have calendars, how would he know when a year passed? On the drive up you contemplated how long a year was to them, you almost gave yourself a nosebleed thinking about it. You would just have to ask Leon.

But Leon had shown, and he showed up with a grin on his face and the best shells he had gathered over the past year.

“What do you call those?” Leon had asked you, pointing a blue finger at the overgrown wildflowers sprouting out of the hill above you and him. You looked over your shoulder, sparing a glance to the purples and yellows of the flowers that gently swayed in the wind.

“Those? Those are flowers.” You said to him, taking another cookie from the ones you had baked and brought to him, still looking at the wildflowers. You quickly learned that if given the chance, Leon would eat just about anything, especially sweets.

“They’re pretty.”

“There are prettier ones.”

“There are?” You finally look back to him, he’s only a handful of feet away from you, the cookies and other treats you brought rested on top of a stool between the two of you. Leon was laying on his stomach, forearms keeping him propped up as his eyes locked onto you, gentle waves rolling over his tail and reaching your feet, the two of you hidden away at the part of the docks no one ventured to.

“Sure, sunflowers, snapdragons, lilacs, chrysanthemums, tulips… I could go on forever.”

“… Would you bring me some?”

“Of course.”

And you did, you brought Leon as many flowers as you could carry, he was worth a pretty penny for all of these flowers. You were no expert on plants, but the night before you brought him the flowers, you took out a book at the library on them, just to know each one’s meaning so that if he asked, you’d be prepared.

Leon asked about anything he could think of, he always did. You were the same, in a way. You’d never been all that curious about the ocean until Leon came into your life.

You watched Leon with a softness in your eyes you don’t think you’ve ever even looked at a boy with when he’d twirl the flower stem between his fingers and study each individual petal, you wanted him to look at you like that.

“I wish I could take these back with me.” Leon had mumbled to you, eyes still glued to a tulip.

“Maybe you can, I don’t know how well they’ll hold up in the water, though.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” His eyes shifted from the flower in his hand up to your face, his smile dropping a tiny bit. “These are beautiful, I don’t want to just remember them.”

You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to tell him that you couldn’t keep everything you wanted, but you knew that you were keeping Leon as close as you could and that telling him that would be hypocritical.

“I’ll buy you as many flowers as you want.” You told him before you could even finish the thought, but you meant each word. Seeing his face light back up made your heart skip a few beats in your chest.

“You will?”

“If it’ll make you happy.”

“Yeah, it would.” Leon had smiled at you, you got out of your beach chair and scooted next to him in the sand, reaching a hand out to run over his wet back before you wrapped your arms around his shoulders in a hug. Leon had gone stiff for a few seconds, your grip loosened on him, he took that opportunity to move and wrap his arms around your waist. He didn’t let you go for a long time.

—

Years came and went, your visits with Leon stayed the same. You spent most of your summer at the beach now, talking with Leon, swimming with him, eating with him, any excuse you could find to be with him, you were there.

August of 2004 is nearing its end, it’s late right now, you don’t know whether it’s before or after midnight. You’re soaked through to the bone, salt water clings to your cold skin as you lay on a beach towel. Leon is next to you, he’s never not near you when you’re at the beach.

Leon gets more and more handsome each time you see him. You’re not sure what’s going on under the surface of the water, but something has hardened him. His eyes are a bit colder, he’s gotten a bit stronger, he’s more serious about things.

You don’t think you ever really knew Leon, you liked to think you did, but he’d never be able to come into your world and you’d never be able to go into his without an oxygen tank strapped to your back. You had to settle for this.

Leon’s never mean to you, though. He still asks questions, he still brings you shells, he still loves flowers. He’s gotten more touchy, he likes your legs, you continue to like his tail.

Leon shifts beside you, rolling onto his side to face you, you do the same.

“When are you leaving?” He asks.

“I’m not sure yet.” You couldn’t stay at the beach forever, you tried to work jobs that were more lenient, but you still need to eat and have a roof to sleep under. Your family notices how you keep returning to the beach for longer periods each year, they think you’ve fallen in love. You have.

“Just be sure to say goodbye.” Leon says this each time you have to leave, you always say goodbye, you’d never just leave him without telling him you wouldn’t be back for a while. You don’t say anything as Leon sits up, reaching for a tulip from the bouquet of flowers you brought, you grab one as well.

It’s silent between the two of you, you’re picking off the petals of your flower, reciting “he loves me, he loves me not” in your head repeatedly, you haven’t done this since middle school.

“If I had legs…” Leon starts, you stop what you’re doing, pausing on a he loves me petal. “Would you take me with you?”

“Take you where?”

“Just with you. I just… I just wanna be around you for more than a few weeks.” Leon’s words both warm your heart and make it clench at the same time, you turn your attention back to your flower, picking off more petals.

“Of course I would. I’d take you anywhere you wanted.” Your eyes flick to his face, catching his smile.

“I miss you, y’know.” You stop again, he loves me not.

“I’m right here.”

“I mean when you’re gone.” Leon huffs beside you, letting his hands fall down to his lap, still holding the tulip. “I don’t like when you leave. Every single day for the past six years I’ve swam up to shore waiting for you, even when I knew you weren’t going to be there. You’re the first human I’ve ever met, I’m pretty sure you’re the kindest one out there, too. You can go anywhere you want in the world and I’d never know it. I just want to see you.”

“And I want you to come with me,” You admit with a shaky breath. “Believe me, I think about you everyday, I try and find things that I can bring to you, I try to be here more than I probably should be. If- If we were able to be around each other every waking moment, I’d spend my life with you.”

“… I don’t want to be in the sea anymore.”

“Leon, you have no idea how easy I wish it was for us.” You can feel tears pricking at your eyes, you look away from Leon, the only petal left on your tulip is he loves me.

“Would you ever move here? To the beach?”

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

“Then do it.” Leon meant it as a demand, but he said it so softly it sounded like he was begging. You toss your tulip to the side and look back at him, scooting closer, letting sand stick to your skin as you leave your towel.

Leon is still blonde, he’s still pretty, he’s still pale. His skin is still wet to the touch and you’ve come to love the scales plastered onto his skin, he’s not awkward when he holds you anymore, and there’s a different ache in your lungs when you’re around him that certainly isn’t you being waterlogged.

You bring a hand up to cup his face, his webbed hand closes around your wrist, leaning into your touch.

“I love you,” He murmurs against your palm, pressing a kiss to it.

“I love you, too.” You whisper to him. Leon doesn’t pull away from you, he never does until he absolutely has to. His hand slides up to latch onto yours, he holds it against his chest and leans in until his forehead is resting against yours.

“Please, say it again.”

“I love you.” You’re the one who leans in for the kiss. The summer you first met, you had found yourself laughing at the thought of kissing him because you thought he’d taste like fish. Instead, he tastes like salt water you’ve swallowed more than enough times, you’d drown in it knowing it tastes like him.

[pointless-soap]

Review #2: Zum Bar Goat's Milk Soap: Sea Salt

So while bored at work and waiting for an eye appointment, I started an AMA and I was asked what my favorite soap was. Well, here it is. This is my current go-to soap. The first time I got it was right before a convention, followed by a first date. I needed something good. I needed something above the normal cheap body wash I used. I needed something new.

Enter: a blue bar. You've probably seen it in a grocery store and thought something like "That looks like soap that's trying too hard. Like it wants to appeal to the kind of New Age and healthy crowd. Like it's way overpriced." And honestly? You're not wrong. It's overpriced. It's trying to impress you. But it's also easy to steal because the Kroger just leaves it out there. (For legal reasons, I'm not endorsing shoplifting. But like whatever, I used to work there so it doesn't count.) Anyway, let's get into the rankings.

Smell: 9/10

No lie, the smell is why I got this soap to begin with. It's significantly more subtle compared to the other Zum Bars they had on option. Not too strong, not too subtle. I have gotten several compliments on this soap's smell. I wouldn't describe it as "Sea Salt" exactly. It has an almost citrus smell to it, that same kinda sharpness. Definitely floral. Lovely.

Lather: 9/10

You don't really have to try to lather this up all that much. Turn on the water and get washing, that's it. But at the same time, it's not overwhelming. Like it'll lather, it'll spread, but it's not gonna drown you in suds. I've had that problem before, mainly with shampoos, but still. That's how you get buildup and soap scum. It sucks. This soap doesn't do that.

Smoothness: 10/10

Oh God it's so smooth. I think that's what the goat milk is for, I don't know. All I know is that it slides like nothing else, right along the skin. No tugging, no tightness, just perfection. No notes.

Scrubability: 7/10

The one downside to this soap in my opinion. It is absolutely not an exfoliating soap. There's little salt inclusions that provide a bit, but that's it. And they dissolve in the water. But that's fine, because I don't get this soap to exfoliate. I get it for the prior score, that smooth finish.

Cleaning power: 9/10

It's nice! I go in, I put in my conditioner (a future review of that miraculous product, I promise), and I grab my soap. I know what I'm in for. It'll clean up, cut through the grime I need it to. I bike a lot to get places, I get dirt on my sometimes. If happens! And this works wonders. A good job.

Total Average Score: 8.8/10

That's right, my preferred soap is only an 8.8/10. Not perfect! It shines in almost everything, except for scrubs. Granted, as I said, I don't get it for the scrubs. But besides that, it's a wonderful soap.

Closing thoughts:

I'm still in the relationship this soap was purchased immediately prior to. That's a pretty solid endorsement if ever I've heard one. It can definitely be a more expensive soap. I think it's around $5 for a bar, rather than the usual bargain pack of like 2 for $3 or whatever. But also if you don't get caught it's not a crime, that's all I'm saying.

Anyway it's a good soap! My current favorite. Note, however, that I said current. I never have anything written in stone.

[moosefrog]

Asks!

These asks are for @amloveabledeathmo! Sorry I couldn't reply normally but Tumblr keeps misbehaving. See screenshot.

Darn you new Tumblr layout. Are you to blame for this tomfoolery?

First question involved the first movie I remember watching in a theatre and this will date me horribly but it was Disney's Robin Hood, the one with the animals. It was amazing! I remember being driven home afterwards and just lying in a daze in the back of the station wagon as my little brain tried to process everything it had just experienced.

The last movie i saw was... oh! Miraculous Ladybug and Chat Noir! I had seen references to the fandom on Tumblr and that made me curious enough to watch the movie. I found it enjoyable with smooth animation. It was terribly predictable, however, but I also was not the target demographic. A friend has been trying to get me to watch Nope so that will probably be the next movie I see.

The second question is about my strangest childhood memory or the memory most talked about by my family. Well, this is definitely the spookiest memory... as told to me by my parents.

We had been living in southern Alberta in a small town on the prairie. My parents were very young and they had just been at a house party with friends a town over with baby me in tow. As they were driving home, they crossed over a dried up slough (which is just a small, usually muddy, body of water). Their car stalled on the bridge. My mom and dad got out to check the engine, leaving me in the back seat. Then things got weird. My mom said she recalled suddenly feeling spooked and when she looked around the raised hood of the car to check on me all of the car windows were fogged up and she couldn't see inside the vehicle. Panicking she rushed to open the car door but it wouldn't open! She tried all of the doors and none of them would open. (This is before doors automatically locked.) Just as suddenly as it came, she suddenly felt calm again and the door she had been trying to open cooperated. Inside the car was colder than she had thought it would be but I was fast asleep, safe and sound. Then the car started up again.

While living in the same small town... my dad has always had trouble sleeping through the night and when I was born he had a habit of checking up on me in my nursery several times a night. One night he went to check on me and he noticed it was a lot colder in the hallway leading to my room than usual. When he went to enter my room, he couldn't. He swears he was unable to cross the threshold to my room. He said he could see me asleep in my crib, and it was freezing cold, but it was like there was a force pushing against him. Suddenly, it let go and he was able to enter. He scooped me up and noticed something was off about me. One trip to the hospital later, I had been diagnosed with pneumonia.

I take these stories with a grain of salt because 1) my parents were young party animals and I'm never sure how sober they were when these stories occurred and 2) both of my parents were sleepwalkers and my dad and I share the trait of having hypnogagic hallucinations on a regular basis.

Thank you for asking! I hope you are entertained by my responses!

[therobotmonster]

How big of a threat do you think AI Art is to the employment of concept artists? Given how artists like RJ Palmer and Bogleech are panicked about it, you've worked in fields adjacent to that, and you've worked extensively with AI art, I'd presume you'd have some perspective on that.

AI art is going to shake up the art field, any new art tool worth its salt can and will.

I was training as a graphic designer when InDesign was finally starting to hit its stride in the late 90s, but I learned on QuarkExpress and learned old-school techniques in high school Newspaper club. I'd been dealing with dot-matrix printers and photocopier work since I was 8 at my dad's office.

So I got to see the graphic design industry in a state of panic through my professors and our various industry guests. All the EM-dashes and the declaration that the " on the keyboard is the inches mark and not the quote were protective measures for the industry so that talented amateurs wouldn't know the secret handshakes and couldn't "fake" their way into being seen as real graphic designers. And they were PISSED that Adobe InDesign was easy to use and automatically converted the measure-marks into "proper" punctuation.

Yet there's still a graphic design industry.

That said, I'd be curious if the ones that are actually freaked out have ever actually used the products. Because I"ve been in a down slump and I'm prone to stim, I have done pretty much nothing but dig into Midjourney and Stable Diffusion's brains and my experience doesn't match the observations of the terrified.

I think part of it is because people only see the results and they don't see the work. And there is work involved.

Iteration and Curation: I've posted a couple hundred pics from Midjourney so far. What do you don't see is this:

Now, in Midjourney parlance "image" also includes 4-grid previews used while developing final images.

For each panel of "Glitch"/"The Bethesda Epoch", for instance, I generated at least eight options (usually more) and evolved several of them across many generations to get what I wound up with. The Bethesda Epoch took me days to put together and garners me feedback and response roughly equal to a 3d modeled piece I'd put together in the same time frame.

Truth of the matter is, you rarely get anything perfect first try, everything needs modification or massive amounts of reiteration to pass for final work.

Promptcraft: Spend even a little time on the discords and you can tell who is playing and who is trying to make art. Play is an entirely viable application of this technology (more on that later) but while this levels the technical skill barrier for a lot of people, it does not cover for a lack of vision or ideas, and it requires its own skill.

There's a big difference between "in the style of D&D art" and "as a D&D monster, full body, pen-and-ink illustration, etching, by Russ Nicholson, David A Trampier, larry elmore, 1981, HQ scan, intricate details, inside stylized border" in terms of what you get.

Play: Most people are just having fun. It's real easy for artists to take the ability to express the ideas in our heads for granted. Most of what you're seeing is people playing with ideas they've been unable to express before. A lot of what I do with it is play, too.

Accessibility: My hands cramp when I draw these days, depression and other problems frequently knock my motivation and energy out of me, but I can use AI to put my ideas out there when the other parts of me aren't cooperating.

Limitations: The tech looks miraculous, but it can't do everything. In fact, it can't do a lot of things. The artist is still needed for the vision, for the ideas, to work the outputs into something meaningful, to supplement the outputs with human intention so a copyright can be involved, the list goes on.

Even Rembrandt used a camera obscura.;

[is-very-sad]

What if yandere inhuman darling was mostly emotionless, and the only time they ever end up showing any is by giving a subtle smile that would come off as creepy most of the time? Also, love your writing and finally decided to make an account to say this too, ahah;;

Y- you made an account just to talk to me??

I'm not flustered idk what you're talking about

For real though thank you so much that means a lot💗💖💗

So uhhh yandere reader, uhhh let's torment my current favorite character, like any good writer should

Contains religious/cult themes bc sagau, yandere behaviors including

Beidou always knew to be careful of the sea. Storms and waves could come from next to nowhere, intent on drowning the poor sailors in its path. But this.. She'd never anticipated this.

The stars changed nightly. Even the north star wasn't reliable.

Islands appeared at random, the charts say they should've been back to mainland weeks ago and yet when the stars change how can maps be accurate? Fish and other fauna are unnaturally abundant wherever they search, islands miraculously have fruit and vegetables, even if they're..strange. Game can be found in the forests and plains. Water can be found, and sometimes when the stores are low, she thinks she can't smell the salt in the sea. Part of her wonders if she can somehow drink the ocean water. Surely that can't be possible, right?

Some seem to have tribes, others only have animals. Some have neither or nothing at all of note.

She's apologized to her greatest inspiration countless times, yet her guiding star only brushes her off with the same monotone voice they've used since she found them floating in the ocean. She still checks them over daily, God or not she doesn't know how long they might've been floating alone in the water.

Under a sky so clear an arm of the galaxy itself could be seen clearly, she anxiously checks her maps again.

She's recalculated the Crux's route two dozen times today alone, as if ignoring the changed stars means she can still figure out where in this blasted ocean they are. She looks up to see them as the door creaks open. The pressure doubles. She has to get them somewhere safe. They're all that matters.

Several minutes pass when she looks at them next to her. Have they been staring since they sat down? Desperate tears start to sting her eyes. She isn't bad luck, she isn't a waste, she isn't the one who failed the true God-

"Hush."

She blinks. Blurry as her eyes are she can tell they're leaning over her.

"Why do you cry little one? Is the ocean not your calling?"

It is, but she can't keep you here forever. You belong in the Jade Chamber of Liyue, or the Shogun's palace in Inazuma. You deserve your throne!

A slow blink.

And then a smile that nearly has her running. She tried to, actually. But your hands held her arms to her chair. How is that gentle little body so strong?

"There's no need to be like that, we'll always have enough supplies. I guarantee it. We can explore forever. Is that not.. romantic? Is that the term?

Poor Beidou can only stare in horror. They'd done this? Romantic? What??

Slowly, as if Beidou was the fragile one which she is maneuver her until they're in the chair and she's in their lap.

"We can explore together forever. That's nice, yes?"

Beidou stares at eyes that never should've been able to hide their true nature.

The danger seems so obvious, now.

[twofrontteethstillcrooked]

Suptober 20 Oct.: Spa day

"You're in the plush chair and this nice lady who smells like a million dollars' worth of fantasies comes in and leans the chair back. She's gonna give you the hottest, cleanest shave of your life. Your face, afterwards, is gonna feel like butter."

A few beats. "Is that good?" Cas asked.

deancas ust

"Okay, so the first thing they do is ask you to change into this soft pajama-like top and pants ensemble. You put your regular clothes, boots, wallet, phone, gun, knives, all that, in a locker to keep 'em safe. You with me here?" Dean asked.

Cas hummed. Good sign.

"The second thing is, you walk into this nice quiet room and sit down in one of those kinda long chairs, you know, like you'd sit in at a dentist office? Only velvet plush and much more comfortable, right by a big wraparound picture window, all filled up with a beautiful view of lots of trees on the hill outside. The October colors have been spectacular this year, haven't they?" When Cas didn't respond, Dean raised his voice. "I'm asking – you've been outside, right? Looked around? Taken in the dazzling hues?" 

Cas said, "Yes. I've seen them."

Dean grinned. "All right. This window, man, I'm telling you; there is one tree, I guess it's a maple, it's like a pumpkin for a giant, all round and orange. I could sit and stare at that tree for nine years. 

"You're in the plush chair and this nice lady who smells like a million dollars' worth of fantasies comes in and leans the chair back. She's gonna give you the hottest, cleanest shave of your life. Your face, afterwards, is gonna feel like butter."

A few beats. "Is that good?" Cas asked.

He sounded more alert; Dean was elated. "Yes, buddy. Rich creamery butter is what you're going for. She pats on some aftershave that makes you smell better than you ever thought possible, and then. Then! She raises the back of the chair so you can sit up and put your feet in a basin of warm soapy water. Delightful. While your terrible, godforsaken, aching arches and weird toe knuckle corns are soaking in those luxurious waters, a different lady – equally beautiful – comes over with a tray. You will never guess what she's gonna do."

"Trim my nasal hair." Cas's voice was fading, but Dean found it hard to fret too much because that answer was funnier than he'd expected.

"She is gonna hold your hands one at a time. Hand massage. It'll feel miraculous. She's gonna do something to your cuticles with a little stick and rub in something that smells like almonds."

"Cyanide," Cas offered.

"No," Dean said loudly. "Just a good nourishing oil. She's gonna cut your nails and file 'em smooth. Your hands will look like your family has a butler. When she's done with all that, she'll do the same thing to your feet, after drying them off. Bonus, she's gonna scrape off all the dead skin on the soles of your feet that catch on your socks and the bathroom rug and are generally disgusting." 

"How do you know what the soles of my feet are like?" Cas sounded bewildered and possibly offended.

"That's what everyone's feet are like, man. Don't sweat it." 

Dean listened to Cas's breathing for a moment; god, it sounded labored. Worse. He made a 'hurry up' gesture to Sam, who gave him a pinched look and kept throwing herbs out of his travel bag into the makeshift circle of stones. 

"What's next?" Cas rasped, too quietly.

"There're a lot of options." Dean tried to swallow down the panic rising in his chest. "Full body massage. Hot stones. Oh, that thing where they wash and deep condition your hair and, like, detox your scalp with scrubby salt or something. There's acupuncture, maybe? And that thing with the cups?"

"Cupping," Sam confirmed around a sprig of rosemary in his teeth as he tried to pry open an ancient bottle of horehound and crow feather elixir with his pocket knife. The blade cracked the glass and Sam just whacked the bottle against a nearby rock; he poured the foul liquid onto the pile of smoldering ingredients in the middle of the rocks. Sizzling intensified.

"What about mud therapy?" Cas asked, voice faint, too faint for Dean's liking, but Dean blurted out, "Yes! Cas, yes! Mud therapy is a thing, I guess. They – what do they do, Sam?"

Sam gave him a crazed look and squeezed a little more blood out of his own fist onto the spell's fiery herbs. "I think they just slather it on you and I don't know what else. You sit there for a while and it draws out toxins?"

"Wish we had some of that right now," Dean quipped.

Sam rolled his eyes at him and started reeling off some latin.

"Cas?" Dean asked, frantic as the strange, brittle, magical door began to shake like an earthquake. The crumbling noise was deafening as the door blew off its ornate hinges and took most of the iron threshold with it. "Cas?"

Sam ran past him to help Cas off the ground beyond the rubble, slapping dust and detritus from his trench coat. "You okay?" 

Cas staggered upright and took a deep breath that Dean was certain, under normal circumstances, he wouldn't need to take. "Much, much better since that angel warding was demolished." He peered at Sam and touched two fingers to his forehead. 

Sam opened, closed, and opened his hand; the wound was gone. Promising, Dean thought.

Cas too was looking healthier with every passing second, the color in his face returned to normal from its zombie pallor mere moments ago, and while there was a large blood stain running down his leg, he seemed capable of walking. Dean saw Cas's expression as it landed on him, confusion twisting to alarm in an instant. 

"You're injured," Cas said, speeding his way to crouch beside Dean. 

Before Dean could finish the phrase, "Demon got the drop on me before Sam knifed it," Dean had been healed. He removed his palm from where he'd been pressing it hard atop the giant slash on the side of his neck; even the slick of blood was gone.

Cas was paler again, though. "I'm fine, Dean," he said impatiently. "You, on other hand, almost died."

"I wasn't worried." Dean brushed a few crumbs of dirt out of Cas's hair gently. "Anyway. Wards broken, demon gone. All in a day's work." He let Cas look as much as he needed to; his own heart beat in his throat like a hammer. "I'm ready for that spa day myself." He smiled at the pained expression that crossed Cas's face. "Not interested in joining me?"

"Let's just go home," Cas said with a sigh. 

"Oh," Dean said, putting his hands in Cas's, "gladly."

[emberwritesinsight]

I feel like Miraculous Ladybug has so much potential to be so much funnier than it is and it’s depressing. Like, the entire premise is “local idiots try to perform a romantic subplot and fail horribly for Superhero Reasons”, and the very concept of the Love Square has the potential to be hilarious if you play it right. But it isn’t played right. 

It can be funny to watch two people try to do the love thing and the universe make it incredibly difficult for them, but it’s only ever difficult for one of the two main characters and you all know which one. When was the last time you saw the universe conspire to embarrass Adrien as much as possible? I’d be a little less hard on the show for the Marinette torture if Adrien got the same kinds of gags.

The odd thing is, this show can be funny, but 90% of the humor I enjoy is completely unrelated to the main romance. Party Crasher is a strange episode with a stranger plot, but it was one of the few times post-season-one the show made me laugh. Because every time I thought it couldn’t get weirder, it did, and I’m a big fan of humor where everything is absurd and it just keeps escalating.

ALL the named (and a lot of unnamed) male characters managing to show up at Chateau Agreste was ridiculous and stupid and I loved it, Marinette showing up in a paper-thin disguise was uncharacteristically funny for a “Marinette suffers and/or does something dumb” gag, Gabriel being personally offended about people being happy on his property was a smaller-scale but still funny moment, the akuma itself is hilarious (and I know it’s intentional because it’s acknowledged as such in-universe), and the method of defeating it is so goddamn dumb, but it’s also really funny! To me. Personally. This take may be controversial.

Even the “Marinette suffers and/or does something dumb” gags could be spiced up a bit. Considering the fact that it’s an accepted rule in most cartoons that you can do literally anything as long as it’s funny- including momentarily kill your characters, I’ve seen shows where people’s souls floated out of their bodies- they could do so much more than just have her babble and fall down. Imagine a scene where Marinette is basically unconscious, her soul is floating out of her, and Alya has to literally grab it and shove it back into her body like that one FMA gag. Absurd? Yes, but so are a lot of things that happen on this show. Of course, it’d still get old fast if Adrien wasn’t occasionally subjected to the same kind of stuff.

Okay, I’m done with the unstructured ranting now. I promise I usually do more serious, less subjective salt about the show, I just wanted to get this out of my system.

[ravennm84]

Marinette’s Family Court Circus

I got this idea from a post @unmaskedagain and decided to put my own little spin to it. It’s a bit sad and does have my usual Lila-Salt spin, but I really loved writing this. Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!!

The day of her greatest triumph was also her greatest tragedy. Hawkmoth had finally been defeated, the butterfly and peacock miraculous back in the miracle box where they belonged, and Paris was finally safe. 

However, when Gabriel Agreste was revealed to be the magical terrorist and his assistant, Nathalie, his accomplice, Adrien had been devastated. When the Paris police sought to find out the extent of Adrien's involvement, he had no choice but to reveal in a private interrogation room with only the mayor, Officer Roger, the chief of police, and Ladybug herself, his identity as Chat Noir. After which, Adrien said a tearful goodbye to Plagg and surrendered the ring of destruction to Ladybug. A press conference was held within an hour, absolving Adrien of any crimes in relation to his father, and his bodyguard would also be absolved four days later.

That night, after Ladybug had returned home and tearfully placed the ring, broch, and pin back in the miracle box; her parents and Grandma Gina had told her that they were going out to dinner to celebrate; Gina had even rented a car so they wouldn’t need to walk or take the subway. How Marinette wished that they had just gotten on the subway.

She woke up the following afternoon in the hospital. Apparently, her family weren’t the only people celebrating Hawkmoth’s defeat, and a car load of university students had celebrated too hard and T-boned their car while running a light. The doctors told her that her grandmother and father had died on impact and her mother passed away during surgery. Marinette had been extremely lucky to survive without any life threatening injuries; a broken leg, arm, collar bone, two cracked ribs, and a few lacerations across her body. 

She was hardly paying attention to what the doctors were saying. Too shocked by the whole situation. There was no Miraculous Cure that could fix this. In the span of a single day, she had defeated her enemy, saved Paris, lost her partner, lost her grandmother, and her parents. She was alone.

When her family’s lawyer, M. Contere came to talk about custody, it was revealed that her grandmother was supposed to take custody in the event of her parents' deaths. Her grandfather would have been the next logical choice, but he had recently suffered a stroke and had been placed in a nursing home. This left the lawyer scrambling to find someone to take the girl or risk having her surrendered to the city of Paris.

Going through the Dupain-Chengs’ contact list, M. Contere made phone calls to numbers listed as family friends or emergency contacts. There were three that particularly stood out to him, all listed under the title of ‘uncle’. 

The first was to an ‘Uncle J’; a woman answered the phone, introducing herself as Penny. When Contere told her it had to do with the Dupain-Chengs, the phone was handed to a man with a distinctly British accent. He sounded devastated to hear that Tom, Sabine, and Gina had all passed away before going into a panic and asking if Marinette was alright, showing absolute relief that she had survived the crash. When Contere mentioned the custody hearing, the man practically demanded to know the date, time, and place before promising that he would be there.

The second contact that stood out was labeled as ‘Uncle Tony’. That call was answered by an assistant named Jarvis before transferring the call to Tony. Again, Contere could hear the surprise and hurt at hearing that his friends had passed away before asking if Marinette had been in the car. When told that she had survived, there was relief and he mentioned that Peter would have probably cried for a week if he’d lost his childhood friend. Tony then offered to take custody of Marinette and Contere quickly told him the details.

Although M. Contere was relieved that at least two family friends/possible relatives seemed more than willing to take Marinette, he knew how fickle and difficult the courts could be and wanted as many options as possible for the girl, which led to the third contact labeled ‘Uncle Bruce’. 

The phone was answered by an older sounding gentleman named Alfred before transferring the call. Contere could hear multiple voices in the background, most sounding like young men, and when he told Bruce about the passing of Tom, Sabine, and Gina; it went very quiet for a moment before all the voices began speaking at once demanding to know what happened, who was responsible, and if Marinette was okay. M.Contere answered the questions that he could and told them that Marinette was in need of a legal guardian. Bruce said Gina had been a great friend and mentor to him when he was younger and that he would be honored to care for her granddaughter. So he told him the details of the court hearing with the promise that he would make sure that Marinette was taken care of until then.

After hanging up, M. Contere had a strange feeling that he couldn’t shake. A feeling that told him that those three ‘Uncles’ were either going to make his job of getting Marinette into a stable home a lot easier… or it would be a total nightmare.

~oOo~

The day of the hearing was a Monday and Marinette's case was the first on the docket, which was a relief. If things went smoothly, she could be placed with one of her respective uncles by the end of the week and be taken care of. When the two of them stepped into the room, with Marinette rolling beside him in her wheelchair, M. Contere was surprised to see multiple familiar faces in the courtroom that he had not expected. Jagged Stone, Bruce Wayne, and Tony Stark were glaring, arguing, and puffing out their chests at each other; ignoring everyone else in the room. He also noticed how each man seemed to have an entire team of lawyers backing them up.

The tension and glaring match only broke when the two women; Pepper Potts and Penny Rolling, and the four Wayne boys; Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damien, noticed Marinette’s arrival. 

“Marinette, sweetie, how are you feeling?” Penny asked as she walked away from Jagged to kneel beside Marinette’s wheelchair.

“Been better, but I’m glad to see some familiar faces,” she said with a weak smile.

Pepper leaned over a bit to give the girl a gentle hug while minding her injuries. “We’re here for you, Mari. No matter what.”

Then the four boys were almost surrounding her, offering to hunt down the people that took away their family and pile so many lawsuits on them that they’ll die of papercuts. This made her chuckle and grimace a bit from the pain, telling the boys that was sweet but unnecessary.

Jagged, Bruce, and Tony immediately put their argument on hold as they hurried over to check on the girl as well. Contere found it to be a good sign that Marinette seemed familiar with the three men, that they all asked how she was and if she wanted anything, as well as promising that they would take care of her. That last one, the three said at the same time and got them glaring at each other again. This caused Contere to sweat and Marinette to give her head a resigned shake.

What followed would probably go down as the most intense, well argued, and most headache-inducing case in the history of the Paris Family Court System with all three men vying for custody of the teenage girl. 

Being able to provide financial stability wasn’t a concern as Jagged Stone was currently the most successful rockstar in Europe, Asia, Australia, and the Americas; while Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne were two of the wealthiest businessmen in the entire world. All three even offered to completely cover Marinette’s tuition to any school she wanted, so long as she was accepted.

Her safety turned out to be a large factor with all three men, and they were willing to hire their own private security to make sure that she stayed safe at all times. However, the three men also argued how the others lived in unsafe environments. 

Jagged mostly lived in tour buses and out of hotels, which was a factor; but he was willing to call off his tours during the school year and only go on tour during school breaks so Marinette would never be without her guardian. Penny was also willing to help Jagged at every turn, stating that she loved Marinette like a niece and would make sure that she had a strong female role model in her life as well.

Tony’s reputation as a playboy and his identity as Iron Man brought up the possibility of attracting a dangerous element. He argued that his homes were equipped with the most advanced security systems on the planet. As well as being friends with an actual “God-Alien”, who had met Marinette and liked her a great deal. Tony was also willing to make Marinette her own personal Iron Suit that would be programmed to protect and fly her to a safe location at the first sign of danger. Pepper also offered to share custody as she already took care of Tony’s daily life as his assistant, taking care of Marinette would be easy and she was looking forward to having her around.

Bruce’s residence in Gotham, the most crime ridden city in North America, was a big factor. Bruce made a point that he already had experience as a guardian of his three adopted sons and his biological son, and they were kept safe. That he also had a top of the line security system at his home, which was located outside of city limits. Dick, Jason, and Tim also commented that they thought of Marinette like a little sister and that Wayne Enterprises had locations all over the world. If the judge decided that Gotham was too dangerous, one of them would gladly take up residency in a city that the judge approved and would stay there to watch over Marinette while still working and providing for her.

After two hours of listening to the back and forth of the three men and their lawyers, the judge decided that he’d heard enough for the day and set the next meeting for the following Thursday after lunch. He also recommended that the men bring proof that they have the mental capability of caring for a teenage girl, lists of schools near their homes to show that she will continue her education, and character witnesses, if available. 

The three men wanted to take Marinette out to get something to eat after the court was adjourned, but M. Contere was forced to tell them that it would not be appropriate during the legal proceedings. He also recommended that they follow the judge’s instructions and make sure that they had everything needed, otherwise they would likely not qualify. Hearing that got all three men, their assistants, family, and lawyers moving at top speeds to get everything they needed for court in a few days. 

Once they were out of sight, the lawyer couldn’t help but let out a stress induced sigh as he raised one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. This custody battle had the potential to turn into a total circus, and although it could do great things for his career in the long run, he was more worried about how this would affect Marinette. 

Speaking of, he was brought from his thoughts when he felt her small hand gently pat the hand that was holding his briefcase. When he looked down at her, she gave him a kind, though slightly amused smile. “You had no idea about the can of worms you were opening when you made those phone calls, did you?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “How was I supposed to know that Uncle J, Uncle Tony, and Uncle Bruce would turn out to be three of the most influential men in the world? How does your family even know all of them?”

“Uncle Bruce was raised by the family butler, Alfred Pennyworth, after his parents died. Grandma Gina and Alfred were best friends when they were younger. After the Waynes died, Gina would go check on them in Gotham, she liked to brag that she helped get Bruce back out of his shell. Uncle Tony knew my parents back in university, he was a lot younger and smarter than the other students and you can guess that didn’t go over well with some of them. My parents looked out for him and they became friends, and even after he got busy when he took over the company, he always made time to be there for the big moments in our lives; my parents’ wedding, their baby shower, and when I was born. I’ve actually spent a few summers in Gotham and New York visiting them.”

“And Jagged Stone?”

“He’s the most recent of my honorary uncles. I’m his personal designer, but he got unofficially adopted into my family after the tv show that took place in my parents’ bakery. Uncle Jagged made a bread guitar and sang rock songs with my dad. Once the show was over, Mom invited him and Penny to stay for dinner. During the course of the night, Dad claimed him as a new little brother. Jagged was so happy that he started calling my parents big brother and big sister, and started calling me his niece. Since then, he’s come over at least once a month to just relax and be a family with us.”

M. Contere couldn’t help but smile at that. From the sound of it and what he had seen, all three men truly cared about this girl and were willing to bend over backwards for her. That was a good thing, but he still worried that a custody battle between these three men could go for a long time and possibly cause mental distress for Marinette. Although the final decision was ultimately up to the judge, he was allowed to make recommendations if they were in the best interests of the child. 

With that in mind, he knelt down beside Marinette. “You know the three of them and what they’re living situations are like better than I do. And even though you’re not 15 years old yet, I could petition the judge to factor your opinion. Which of them would you like to have guardian status?”

When Marinette gave him a knowing smile, he just knew that things might get more complicated.

~oOo~

It got a lot more complicated.

The media had caught wind of the custody battle, causing a giant crowd of paparazzi to stake out the courthouse to catch a glimpse of the rockstar, billionaire, and the self proclaimed “genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist” who was also a superhero. To their credit, the three only said that they were devastated by the loss of the Dupain-Chengs and wanted to do what was best for Marinette and left all the other questions at the door.

In the courtroom; all three men, as well as their assistants and Bruce’s boys, had done mental evaluations that their lawyers submitted to the judge. They also provided lists of different schools that Marinette was free to choose from; including public schools, private, and even schools that specialized in fashion. But the absolute kicker was the character witnesses.

Jagged Stone had brought other music stars, movie stars, and production mega stars that made Contere wonder for a moment if he’d accidentally walked into an award ceremony. Tony Stark had brought the Avengers, The Avengers, as his character witnesses. Contere wasn’t too proud to admit that he was a bit starstruck when Thor himself came over to great Marinette and complimented her on her ‘battle scars’, saying that they were a testament to her strength. If that wasn’t enough, Bruce brought multiple members of the Billionaire’s Club as character witnesses, many of whom had been suspected of being members of the Justice League. 

The judge looked just as surprised, though somewhat irritated, by the people crowding his courtroom. He quietly looked over the mental health evaluations that had been provided, as well as the lists of schools; finding that everything was in order and that any of them would have been wonderful guardians to the girl. He was tempted to call another recess and pick this back up the following week until Marinette’s lawyer raised his hand.

“If it would please the court,” the judge motioned for him to continue, “although Mlle. Dupain-Cheng is not yet of legal age to make a final decision on the matter of custody, I felt that she was old enough to state her opinion. We have discussed it over the past few days and I believe we came up with a proposal that will satisfy all parties involved while still being in the best interest of the child.” M. Contere presented the four copies of the proposal to the bailiff, who handed one to the judge, and the three lead lawyers.

The judge read the summary at the top before looking at the lawyer in surprise. “You’re proposing joint custody?”

“Yes, your honor. My client and I feel that due to the influence that these men hold, as you can see by the character witnesses that have come here to speak on their behalf, that this custody hearing could be drawn out for a long time, which could have mental repercussions on Marinette.” Contere didn’t miss the ‘you ain’t kidding’ roll of his eyes, or the looks of shame that the three men shared at the thought of hurting Marinette.

“Keeping that in mind, my client came up with an outline for a possible custody agreement. M. Stark would retain custody during school as he has listed one of the top fashion schools in America, which would further Marinette’s future career. The weekends would be spent with M. Wayne, as Wayne Enterprises has connections to the fashion industry and would be able to give her training to help her successfully run her own business. M. Stone would have custody during summer breaks, so Marinette may continue gaining experience as his personal designer, a position she has held for close to a year and has already earned her recognition in the industry.”

The judge grew quiet again as he contemplated the proposal and read over the details. He didn’t want to deal with these three powerful, and in a lot of ways eccentric, men for the next few months while attempting to figure out the best placement for the child. Nor did he want to deal with the media frenzy that this case had already brought on. If anything, this was likely the best option, if he could get the men to agree to the terms.

“Do you have any objections to this proposal?”

There was a moment of silence as the lawyers continued to look over the proposal and spoke to their clients. Jagged’s lawyer was the first to respond. “No, your honor. M. Stone believes that this would be best for Marinette, but we would like to add a clause that M. Stone be permitted to call and visit Mlle. Dupain-Cheng so long as it does not interfere with her school work.”

“My client would also like that clause added to the proposal, your honor,” said the Wayne lawyer. “As well as the clause that Messieurs Stone and Stark work together with M. Wayne in securing Mlle. Dupain-Cheng’s safety. As previously stated, all three men could be considered high-priority targets and normally require bodyguards. M. Wayne has proposed that any potential bodyguard be vetted and approved by all parties involved before being hired.”

The judge looked to Stark’s lawyer. “And do you have any stipulations you would want to see added to the proposal?”

“Only that there be an open line of communication between Messieurs Stone, Wayne, and Stark at all times in reference to Mlle. Dupain-Cheng’s well being and any possible travel. As all three men are known to travel the world for business; there will be occasions for the child to travel as well. When this occurs, the other guardians should receive notice of the country, city, and address that she resides; so, in case of an emergency, they will be able to be present to assist and protect her.”

“My client has no objections to these clauses,” said Jagged’s lawyer.

“And you, M. Wayne?”

The Wayne lawyer nodded. “The clauses are more than reasonable and are in the best interest of Mlle. Dupain-Cheng. Although I only speak for my client, I do not believe that I would be out of line to say that is the main focus of Messieurs Stone and Stark as well.”

The lawyers hid their relief when the judge nodded in agreement. “As the proposal was presented by the child and the three of you are in agreement, I’m scheduling a meeting in my chambers for next Tuesday to go over the finer details of the custodial agreement. I will allow your clients and one lawyer each to attend; this includes you and your client, M. Contere.”

“Yes, your honor.”

“And as for you, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng,” Marinette’s head snapped up to meet the judge’s gaze. “It seems that you have gained three extremely powerful, influential, and in many ways crazy guardians. I don’t know if I should congratulate you or give you my sympathies. What I will do is wish you the best of luck and hope that you are prepared for the future. Court is adjourned.”

There was a hum of surprise and joy that spread through the courtroom as Jagged, Bruce, and Tony stepped up to each other and shook hands before approaching Marinette and M. Contere. 

“Of course, my niece would come up with a way to keep everyone happy, she’s so rock n’ roll that way.” Jagged beamed with pride as Tony and Bruce nodded in agreement.

“Would it be alright if all of us went to dinner to celebrate,” Bruce asked Contere, indicating the ‘all’ to be himself and his boys, Jagged and Penny, and Tony and Pepper; along with Marinette and Contere.

“So long as there’s no discussion of custody and everyone stays civil, I don’t see any harm in it.”

Everyone smiled in agreement while Pepper mentioned that she’d just finished making reservations for all eleven of them at a nice restaurant that had the best view of the Eiffel Tower.

As the others began filing out of the courtroom, Marinette patted his hand and gave him a sympathetic look. “You just opened your second can.”

M. Contere wasn’t sure about what she’d meant until after the meal was over and the waitress brought the check, and then watched as the three billionaires fought over it. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he only hoped that this would all be over on Tuesday and he could go back to his normal, boring cases.

[chanluster]

two types of fireworks | {f} ; mild {c}

oneshot | tangled! au | historical! au | 21.2k words

“ who could be better adventurers than a wanted thief and a girl with magical hair? ”

s u m m a r y > > when you find a notorious thief wounded within the woods you wondered, you heal him, not realising that the same man will lead you to your destination, and the few feelings you’ll develop along the way.

c o n t e n t s > > long haired flynn rider! hyunjin, rapunzel! reader, irritated companions to lovers, a lot of fluff, kkami is a horse, hyunjin gets SOOOO angry with you all the time, teasing, hyunjin gets flustered easily, everyone in skz included cause i miss them everyday, jisung is the villain iMSOSORRY, a few swear words sprinkled throughout, perhaps? sexual tension? never r e a l l y addressed, and of course, some familiar disney scenes

a u t h o r ‘ s  n o t e > > once again, i cannot control myself and wrote double the intended word count!! i hope you like and reblog if enjoy this homies, and remember, long-haired hyunjin domination!!!

back to masterlist

YOU WONDERED WHEN YOU WOULD FINALLY GET OUT OF THE FOREST.

Bag slung over your shoulder, your naked feet skimmed through the soft grass as you trudged on, waiting for an opening within the infinite trees to your destination beyond. 

It was days like this that you wished Mother had a horse at the foot of the tower. Even though it was a creature you had never seen, you had studied its striking figure within the illustrated books your mother gifted on countless birthdays, their natural-coloured coats, long, beautiful faces and poses of them galloping across green fields.

Green fields you wished had greeted you sooner.

The only sound of the entire forest was the rustling of leaves upon branches, woodland creatures here and there scrambling for food, or for shelter within the thousands of trees surrounding you. Even the sun could not break through the dense masses of nature, only slivers of light shooting through the leaves, providing light for your journey. 

Hard. The paths were hard, your feet getting slightly muddied, and even your water was slowly running thin, leather skin holding about a day’s worth of water left. Your food was stocked, collecting apples from the nature above, but you knew you needed a proper meal if you had not a clue of when you were to arrive at your hidden destination.

You knew what you were searching for. You just did not know where to search.

Sighing, you felt your spirits dampen the further you lumbered on, the mass rings of hair wound around your other arm a heavy weight. The locks were endless, making a trail behind you. You tried to gather up as much hair as you could manage, but the damned mess refused to listen. Irritancy furrowed your brows, and you let out a shallow sigh, cursing fate for being so cruel.

Within the trees, you spotted an opening - a sliver of light beyond the tunnel of nature. You gasped, picking up the pace of your feet, running out and breaking free of the leafy barrier.

Before you were not the opening fields you expected, but rather a small pond, cocooned within the trees you ploughed through. The water looked pure, glimmering from the sunlight which now freely fell upon the opening. It was a peaceful sight, but still could not stop the disappointment reaching your face as you slumped your shoulders.

Brilliant.Yet another dead end.

You were about to head for the pond when you heard distant shouting. 

Fear froze over you, expecting your mother breaking through the bushes.

Your instincts had you dashing for the trees again, gathering your hair and hiding behind the bushes. The aggravated voice grew louder, but the closer it came, you realised with confusion that it was not laced with anger. It was laced with pain.

Suddenly, something broke out of the bushes. You nearly let out a childish yelp.

It was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. 

Hell, it was the only man you had ever seen - you would have kept staring in awe were not your features distorted with worry. This man stumbled to a nearby tree looking over the pond, one hand clinging onto the trunk as the other hugged his abdomen, fingers stained with the blood caked upon his turquoise vest. Dear God, there was so much blood.

He whirled, back to the trunk, and slumped down, legs spread before him as his mouth parted, letting out shallow breaths as he tried to stop the bleeding. His head frantically darted, looking everywhere, and then tilted his head back against the wood as he closed his eyes. Sweat matted his locks, beaded down his cheeks, and he hissed as his hand held his bloodied side tighter. His satchel had been discarded before the pond, a few papers and food spilling from the opening.

You watched him whither slowly, fingers threading through your hair. You wanted to help; of course you did, but you held back. Perhaps fear still crept at the back of your neck, but you hid behind the bushes, waiting for what might happen.

Minutes later, you wished you ran to his help instead. The man, after heaving rapidly, left his hand upon the wound, thumping down on the ground, slumping fully against the tree.

Your eyes widened at the realisation. 

In that space of a few seconds, you knew. 

Whoever he was, you had to save him.

Feet nearly stumbling upon huge tree roots, you rushed around the pond. Hair getting caught in a few twigs, you did not glance back as you tugged at the meters of locks, the man’s face now closer in your vision.

You dropped down to where he sagged against the trunk, unrolling your locks from your arm, eyes darting frantically to his figure. Instantly finding the horrific wound, cutting through the fabric and his skin, you slide your hand through curtains of your hair, taking out a long trail and tugging the ends to you. 

With hesitation, but then determined certainty, your hands unbuttoned the man’s vest, taking every single nerve in your body not to glance at his face. The white shirt underneath was stained with blood as well, which you raised up to his top part of his chest, exposing his granite-hard abdomen. You would have even blushed were it not such a grave situation you found yourself in, blood oozing out of the injury.

With a final, long draw of breath, you grabbed the locks of your hair, carefully tying them around the man’s waist. You made sure the strands covered every single ribboned area of his stomach, praying to fate for this miracle. The only injuries you had treated were cuts from paper and burns from hot trays of cupcakes. A slash this deep and serious was going to be another matter entirely.

Once you were done securing the hair, you put your hand upon the locks guarding the injury, and closed your eyes.

The words that left your mouth nearly silenced the forest.

“Flower, gleam and glow.”

A spark.

“Let your power shine.”

You felt the glow hum beneath your fingers.

“Make the clock reverse.

“Bring back what once, was mine.”

You dared not open your eyes as you sang, sensing the miracle of your hair threading itself around the unconscious man, assessing the wound, driving inside and repairing the damage done upon his skin. You dared not stop singing, fearing for his life.

“Heal what has been hurt.”

The magic obliged to your call, slowly knitting the wound, working on the scarring, the loss of blood. 

“Change the Fate’s design.”

The lost flesh formed miraculously underneath your fingertips, tendrils of muscle knitting within itself, saving the abdomen from complete ruination. You carried on, squeezing your eyes further shut.

“Save what has been lost.”

You felt the damp blood dry in the moments, the newly created muscle now raising your hand slightly as warmth radiated around you, courtesy of the otherworldly glow of your hair. It comforted your nerves, still there despite knowing you had brought the man out of grave danger.

“Bring back what once was mine…”

You took a deep breath, both hands upon his wound.

“What once was mine.”

You paused.

Opened your eyes.

There he still was, leaned back before you, dreaming away with a restored peace, lost when he got slashed in his gut. His top half was splayed out before you, abdomen all healed save for a dried blood scattered here and there. You turned to the pond, straining as you cupped some water and splashed it upon the crust, hitching your dress and using the ends to wipe the mess away. 

As you wiped you looked up at his face — it was then you noticed the little details; his closed eyes, the groomed brows — the straight nose, gosh, the full lips, slightly parted mouth. You could not help but stare at the man, sleeping in tranquility with the nature around him. It was almost like he did not possess a grave wound moments before.

You realised when you glanced down that he was still bare waist up, and with heated cheeks raised your hands to the hem gathered at the top of his chest. Your eyes darted, and locked with his open ones, and reverted back to the shirt to yank it down—

You stopped completely in your tracks. 

Widened your eyes.

Tilted your head up to see the man’s opened eyes, just as wide as yours, the lips you shamelessly stared at not so long ago parted more. 

It was a few seconds before the heavy silence was shattered.

With the man’s rather shrill scream.

“OH MY GOD—!”

Suddenly he wasn’t slumped against the tree, but shooting straight up, backing away from you. Stunned, you retreated a few steps too, watching his slender eyes nearly shoot out of his sockets.

“Who are you?! What did you do to me?! How am I not dead—?!” his questions kept coming, head darting to where his satchel lay. He jumped towards it, frantically searching for some kind of weapon only to find a few posters and salted meat. He then perked his head towards you, immediately positioning himself in a fighting stance, fists out.

“Don’t make me fight you, girl!” he exclaimed, warning written in his face. “If I have no sword I can fight with my fists!”

That was a convenient time to whip out a weapon of your own, but you only argued with words.

“I’m not here to hurt you, I promise!” you reasoned, hands raised. 

“Then why were you so close?! Bombarded in my face and fiddling with my shirt?!” he showed off his chest, now covered by the white material, turquoise vest still open. “Oh, dear God, what did you do?!”

“Nothing!” you proclaimed, pointing towards your chest. “I only healed your wounds!” You took a step closer. “You were going to die!”

Hesitantly, the man followed your finger, lifting his shirt up to see his side, completely free of scarring, of the slash that haunted his skin. He then looked to you once more, anger being replaced with pure fear.

He let out another unnecessary scream.

“WITCH!” 

The tree stopped him backing up any further, and he watched you with pure horror, expecting you to grow fangs, form claws and gut you mercilessly. You only regarded the beautiful, yet rather silly man with incredulity.

“I’m not a witch,” you grumbled, crossing your arms, “I just have hair that glows when I sing.”

That did not help your situation at all.

“Because that’s normal, is it not?!” he yelped, and dashed behind the tree, taking notice of your hair. “And having a kingdom's worth of hair on your head isn’t something out of a grim fairytale?!”

“Well that ‘grim fairytale’-like hair is what saved you from death,” you snapped, hand slipping into your satchel, feeling the handle of your frying pan. “Ungrateful man!”

“Witch!” he growled right back.

“Ungrateful man!”

“Witch!”

“Ungrateful man!”

The man soured up, his raven locks caressing his cheeks as the wind rustled the forest. Both of you stared each other down, pan-handle jutting out of the satchel, and the other’s fists raised once more, half of his figure behind the tree still. None of you backed down. None of you dared lose to the other.

Minutes past, the only sound being the water softly lapping in the pond. The man let out a sigh, breaking the stare.

“I’m leaving.”

He picked up his satchel, a stray poster falling to the ground. You watched it descend, asking, “What, where?”

“None of your business.” He dusted himself off, buttoning up his vest. “I can’t waste my time here.”

You ignored his cold answer, and picked up the poster. It advertised the day of the Fireworks, a couple of weeks away, and boasted of the activities happening in the Kingdom of Corona. 

An excited gasp escaped you.

“You!” 

The man turned, frowning. “What now?”

You ran to where he stood, blocking his vision with the poster. “You know of Corona? Do you know where it is?”

Grunting, he waved the paper away from his face. “Of course I do.” He slung his bag over his head. “I was going to go there before I got rudely stabbed.”

A thrilling wave washed over you, barely containing your smile. “You’re still going then, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but—” the man stopped talking.

Began glaring at you.

“You’re not coming with me.”

The smile fell instantly.

“But wait!” You hurried over to him, but he reflexively dodged your advances. “We’re journeying to the same destination!”

“So?” He straightened his vest once more, and turned his icy stare towards you. “That, if I can remember correctly, is not my problem.” 

“But I do not know where the Kingdom is!” You tried to break his shell, the constant rejections of teaming up. 

“Refer to my previous point, witch.”

“I’m not a witch!” you sniped, getting more and more irritated with his discouraging demeanour. “I save you from the claws of oblivion, and this is how you repay me!”

He gritted his teeth. “I never asked you to save me.”

You scoffed, shocked by his total lack of gratitude. “Oh, really?” You finally brought out your own weapon. “Then I can gladly bring you back to your original state!”

The man stared at the black frying pan before bursting into laughter.

His shameless laughter made you even angrier, and you swung the pan back, another bad remark and it’ll hit home.

“A frying pan!” He gasped out, clutching his stomach. “What are you going to do? Fry my food to hurt me?”

You let out a roar as you swung the pan right onto his head.

With a sharp PANG! It banged against his head and the man let out a hideous yelp, gripping his head.

“What are you doing?!” he cried out, doubling over before the pond. 

You only positioned yourself once more, the weapon hovering above your head. “Don’t insult my frying pan ever again. Nor my hair, you bastard.”

He groaned painfully in response, massaging his head to soothe the pain of the metal. “How do you think,” he guttered, looking over his shoulder at you, “I’m ever going to let you come with me after you nearly knocked me out?”

You did not break his stare. “Because I can easily do it again.

“Take me to the Kingdom of Corona. I saved your life, and it’s the least you can do in return.”

Again, the battle of eyes, refusing to surrender. You did not even know the man’s name, but you wished to swing the frying pan upon him, really make sure to wreck that awfully beautiful face.

That made you scowl further. Why was he so ravishing?

Whether it was your stubbornness, or the promise of another beating, the man stood straighter, a heavy exhale leaving his lips.

“Fine. You win.”

He turned fully to you, not leaving your eyes. 

“You may accompany me to the Kingdom.”

The minute the words left his mouth, you flung your arms back, letting out a howl of victory.

“I’m going to see the fireworks!”

You ran around the tree, hair looping around the trunk as you hooted in pleasure. “I’m going to see the fireworks, I’m going to see the fireworks, I’m going to see the fireworks!

The man, still caressing his head, hissed at the commotion you made. “Oh, be quiet!”

Ignoring him completely, you continued your unpredictable running, until the former trudged up and stopped you in his tracks, gripping you by your arms.

“Stop!”

You returned his sour expression with a brilliant smile. “I can’t help it! I’ve been wanting to see the fireworks for a very long time.”

“Whatever.” He let you go, looking around the forest. “But before we go anywhere…”

He settled his eyes upon you. For once, there wasn’t any scorn alight in them. 

“At least you can tell me your name.”

You pondered a bit. “Tell me yours first.”

The man rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He held out his hand.

“Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin, at your service, even though I don’t wish to be.”

You stared at his hand. 

“Why did you raise your hand at me?” You asked in confusion, pan still in yours.

The man — Hyunjin — regarded you in disbelief. “You...you don’t…?” He cocked his head, retracting his hand. “Where did you come from, witch?”

“Again with the witch!” You exclaimed, cutting distance to his face, hovering the pan under his chin in warning. 

“How about,” he started, lowering your weapon with his hand, “You pause the constant threats, and tell me your name?”

With a cautious eye still upon him, you obliged. “____.”

“____,” he repeated. “____,” he continued, as if tasting the very name that identified you. “Well, then, ____, the first thing we’re to do is search for Kkami.”

“Kkami?” Your eyes followed his every move, as he brought out his own leather skin, filling it with the water from the pond. You reflected his move, replenishing your own water.

“My horse,” he clarified, placing the skin within his satchel, closing the straps. “He must not be far.”

That snippet of information nearly had you screaming. “You have a horse?!” You asked eagerly, earning a hiss from the man.

“What are you so excited for? It’s just a horse.” He then sighed, tying locks of his hair in a half-up ponytail. “Yes, I do have a horse. So does half the kingdom.”

“I’ve never seen a horse before my eyes,” you explained, wonder misting your eyes, yet clearing your mind. You knew you had to find this ‘Kkami’ soon.

Hyunjin glanced at you, curiosity knitted onto his features. “You really do surprise me. It’s as if you’ve never left your home in your life.”

You could only offer him a smile. “You can say that again.”

“Come.” He started up a rather fast walk, separating the bushes with his hands. “He must not be far.”

You followed his trail, sparing one last look over your shoulder at the pond, then turning towards this Hwang Hyunjin, the man who would lead you to your destination. 

The Fireworks of Corona.

For the next hours calls for Kkami were being pursued by the two of you, with little to no result, for a horse could not possibly call back on his searchers. Hyunjin showed no mercy in his marching, and you refused to let him show you mercy, despite your legs on the brink of collapsing.

After another hour the both of you broke away from the forests, and found a cobblestone road, leading to an unknown destination. Signs decorated the pole standing on the opposite side of the road, and the man stepped onto the path, assessing the places mentioned.

“Ah!” He spoke out after. “The Wolf’s Den.” 

“What is that? Your home?”

“An inn, not far from here.” He looked to his left, the continuing pathway. “I stop there often in between journeys, so perhaps Kkami went there to wait for me.”

“Well, what are you standing around here for?” You sprung up in front of him, a tired grin etched into your features, a beacon of hope now beyond the road. That inn better be within the next ten steps.

Sure enough, there were only mere minutes of walking before you set your eyes upon a wooden cottage, it’s sign, displaying The Wolf’s Den, swaying within the cool woodland breeze. Distant noise was heard while you both walked towards the inn, howling and boisterous laughter ringing through the forest.

Hyunjin let out a sigh of relief, picking up the pace of his stride. 

Confused, you followed his line of sight, and let out an excited gasp at what he ran towards. 

Horses. Real horses, right before your eyes.

There were different colours of the animal, slick brown and black and white coats, but the one the man strolled towards, almost a skip in his step, possessed the opposite colours, black and white scattered upon its body, an unusual yet beautiful combination. The horse softly neighed when its owner laid a nurturing hand upon him, whispering greetings to him. 

It was so...ethereal. Even if horses were common animals, seeing one for the first time from your own eyes rather than the pages of a children’s book made all the difference. 

Hyunjin, feeling your blatant staring, glanced back, a groomed brow raised. “What is the unnerving staring for?”

You snapped out of the bubble of your thoughts, instantly souring over his comment. “I was just looking at your horse,” you mumbled. 

“Oh my. You really were not kidding, then.” The other brow then joined its partner. “Are you going to faint if we come across a donkey?”

You gave him a scowl. “Shut up!”

He huffed out a laugh, patting his horse once more before walking around to the entrance, tilting his head up to assess the whole inn. He then looked past at you, still admiring Kkami. “I’m going to go inside for a bit. You stay out here.”

Again, you perked up, furrowing your brows. “Why can’t I come in?”

Gritting his teeth, he said, “Don’t argue! The inn’s full of madmen, and you’ll get scared.”

“You don’t know that!” you cross your arms, shooting him a mean glare. “I can take care of myself!”

“Just stay outside!” he exclaimed, wrenching open the door and storming inside, a loud bell indicating his presence as the door closed behind him.

You scream in anger at the door as if Hyunjin was still there in front of you. Dear God, he didn’t have to be such a pain in the rear!

Stubbornly, you stepped right to the door, opening it just a little bit, sticking your head inside. 

Your eyes widened at the sight of the inn.

About a few dozen men were creating disorder, drinking away in big glasses, shouting and hollering, even threatening to throw punches at one another in a rather strange state of mind. Sweet singing was heard over the melody of the piano, a man’s rich voice adding softness to the anarchy. You noticed men stumbling around tables and slurring their words, your curiosity being stained with a little fear. 

Why were these men acting like fools?

You opened the door a little wider, hand on it still as you stepped inside, the other hand holding onto your bundles of hair.

Your eyes settled on Hyunjin squeezing past the crowd, walking up to the counter, where a line of men were already settled, different coloured drinks in their hands. A handsome man, of similar age to your companion, greeted him with a dazzling smile. “Hyunjin!” he welcomed warmly, raising his hands.

You saw your grumpy companion sit down on the high chairs, not particularly returning the smile.. “Chan,” he started, putting his elbows on the counter top. “Any news?”

“The news is that you should rest,” this Chan countered, pouring a dark-red liquid in a glass, sliding it to his friend. “When was the last time you slept properly?”

His concern was waved off, as Hyunjin sipped on his drink, completely unaware of your presence. “When Jisung didn’t run off with my treasures.”

Chan’s smile faded, as he looked frantically around, lowering his voice. “What? Jisung betrayed you?”

Hyunjin kept darting his eyes back to you. “Let’s not dwell too much on it. My main objective is to find him.” 

The bartender parted his mouth, worry in his features. “And...and what will you do when you find him?”

You saw the man’s face darken. “I will make him regret fucking with me.”

A small gasp escaped you, hands coming to your sides. This fury was of another scale entirely, and it made you almost shudder at his need for vengeance.

You were about to take a step further when the door shut completely. 

The bell rang, a lot louder than you had imagined. 

The chaos quietened at the sound, all eyes turning to the door.

Then at you, with all your seventy feet locks, trailing out the shut door.

And if that didn’t ennerve you entirely, then the look on Hyunjin’s face as he slowly got up from his seat, that same cold fury now focused on you, definitely did. 

You nearly yelped out a cry of help.

The melody of the piano continued, and before all the men could come pounce on you, your hands dropped the tumbles of hair, falling at your feet as you grabbed your pan and raised it in warning.

Hyunjin thundered past the others, though, hair bobbing with each step as he stopped right behind the pan you raised in defence.

“I told you to stay outside,” he guttered.

You only craned your neck back, matching his stare. “You do not tell me what to do.”

“I swear to God—”

He was cut off when Chan eased past his customers, stopping beside Hyunjin as he widened his eyes at your arrival.

“Oh my,” he started, a small glance at the pan. “Miss, none of us intend to hurt you, do put the...your weapon down.”

Your eyes did not stray from Hyunjin’s. “One of you does.”

The owner of the tavern raised a brow at his friend. “Well, he won’t hurt you as long as he’s under this roof.”

He then blessed your eyes with a smile. “The name’s Bang Chan,” he said, hand stretched out. You took it, just how the ladies in your books did, and felt the expected kiss on the back. “What may I call you?”

“____,” you offered. 

“Don’t let Hyunjin’s usually foul demeanour dampen your spirits,___,” Chan continued, leading you further into the tavern, the men unable to keep their eyes from you.

“Oh, so he’s always like this?” you mused, the already sour glare grilling into you. 

The man leading you to a seat laughed, a single cheek dimpling. “Don’t you worry about him,___.” he snapped his fingers, the man playing the piano stopping, being replaced with another as he came down the stairs. “Worry about what drink you would like.”

“No!” Hyunjin cut in immediately, daggering the men around him with his gaze. “Do not even think about giving her anything.”

You scoffed louder than usual so the long-haired man would hear. “I would very much like a drink, thank you, Mr. Bang.” 

The manager chuckled at the game of cat and mouse, pulling a seat for you to settle down into. “Chan is perfectly fine, ____.” He then turned to his friend. “Don’t fret too much, I’m only offering some ale.”

As if on cue, another fine, slender man, who was just playing the piano, presented you with a huge mug of the diluted alcohol, a soft smile etched onto his lips. You melted at his demeanour, accepting the object with a thank you. He then glanced at your companion, smile slightly fading.

“I assume you have heard about Jisung?”

Hyunjin cocked his head, a watchful eye still on you as you took a careful sip, eyes widening at the slight, sweet tang to the drink. “Of course. The bastard tried to stab me.”

“Dear God,” was his answer. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” The feline gaze was more prominent, and you did not know why you began to drink the ale a little faster. “I escaped death...perhaps by witchcraft.”

You held in the urge to roll your eyes. 

Hyunjin then fully focused his attention upon the musician. “Wait, Seungmin, how did you know of this?”

“Jisung came to the inn.” 

Chan looked to his coworker. “I did not see him arrive.”

Seungmin shook his head, you right in the middle of these men as you finished your first mug. Another sweet customer poured you some more from his serving, and you clinked your drink with his, continuing to watch. “You were tending to Kkami. It was very quick, he came and went.”

“What did he tell you?” Hyunjin demanded. 

“Well, firstly he told me you and him had gone your separate ways.” Seungmin propped a finger of his chin, thinking some more. “Which made me a little sceptical, since both of you are joined at the hip. Anyway, he said you gave him whatever you both had picked up on your adventures, and that he was going to Corona and sell them off.”

A curse was emitted over this information. You wanted to know why that was such a problem, but in reality all you wanted was more ale. “Chan?” You called, holding out the mug. The owner of the inn immediately took care of your request, filling the mug to the brim and setting it upon the wooden table. 

“That is quite enough,” Hyunjin declared, trying to pry the drink from you when you slapped his hand away, shooting him with what you thought was a terrifying glare. 

In reality, the men around him began to laugh at your attempt of intimidation, which looked more like a child pouting over a scolding. Your companion tried again to take the mug away but this time you hugged the drink as tightly as you could, some of the contents spilling lightly onto your top. 

“I swear—” he muttered, but then angrily shook his head, dismissing you entirely.  “Seungmin, do you know when he plans to go to Corona?”

The said-man furrowed his brows in thought. “He did seem in a bit of a rush. I reckon he has already found buyers and is riding to the city as we speak.”

Hyunjin poked his tongue out under his cheek, clearly not content with this new information. Chan, sensing his discomfort, put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry too much,” he reassured him. 

“I must leave for the capital now,” the younger said, and the other knitted his brows in irritancy.

“But you just arrived!”

“I can’t let Jisung get away with this,” Hyunjin muttered, and suddenly the words of his departure truly hit you.

“NO!”

All the men flinched at you shrill call, the one you knew the most sending you his typical bitter glare. “You, firstly,” he drawled, pointing an accusatory finger at you, “Need to stop drinking!”

“But I’ve only had two mugs!” you exclaimed. “And it only tastes like water!”

“It’s three, actually,” he corrected, propping both hands on his hips. “And I do not want some whiny, drunk witch while I travel.”

“Hyunjin!” Chan scolded, instantly at your side. “Why are you calling the poor girl a witch?”

“Mr. Chan,” you recited, as if you were a bard about to sing poetry, “This insufferable man has been abusing me with this term all day!”

A gasp escaped the owner of the bar, who then frowned at the man accused. “You monster!”

“Dear God,” he mumbled, ready to leave the inn then and there. It was a shame that he owed you a favour, or else he would have abandoned you in the forest.

Hwang Hyunjin did not like doing favours for others. Even if they derived from pretty young ladies with magical hair. 

A scowl marred his full lips at the strange thought. 

“I am not leaving,” you declared, dragging him down to reality as you took a hefty gulp of your ale. You smacked the cup down, eyes never leaving his. “And you are going to stay with me till I am done.”

That’ll show him. You were extremely confident that he would listen, now that you told him off. Your brain, now a little fuzzy, praised you for standing your ground, along with a smiling Chan and Seungmin. Wait, did Chan have a twin? He did not before, so why was there two of him before you?

“Oh, hurry up, then!” The man roared, and you flinched from his tone before the words settled in. That then caused you to harbour a complacent smile upon your face, and when he caught sight of it he let out a groan. “And for God’s sake, get me something to drink!”

Seungmin obliged, chuckling at his friend’s tantrum, and Chan only ruffled his half-ponytail, messing it up slightly. “That’s the spirit, Hyunjin,” he said. “Learn to relax.” 

“How can I relax when my ex-partner is about to sell off everything we made together?”

“Even Jisung would need his rest,” the elder countered, sitting the younger down onto the seat opposite yours, which looked a little less sharp even with your blinking. Were these the consequences of drinking? Were there consequences for drinking?

Well, you did not seem to care. Not when it tasted so divine. 

“If I do not catch the bastard because of this wit-ow!” he was interrupted by a pinch of his gut, done by Chan over his lack of manners. “I mean girl!

“If this girl—” he knifed you with a look, which you returned with a feline grin, as you drank some more. “—is the reason I do not catch Jisung, I will willingly kill her in his place.”

“Whatever you say!” you hollered much too loud, earning a deep snarl from the man as Seungmin curved through the customers and brought more drinks, propping his friend’s drink before him. 

Hyunjin wrapped his fingers around the black handle, and on cue, you raised your own mug. 

“To catching whoever annoyed pony boy this time!” you declared in a mighty roar.

Laughter rang from all around the tavern, yet the man you targeted only grumbled, awkwardly clutching tufts of his locks before taking a swig of his drink. 

Alcohol was shared throughout the evening, an airy and boisterous atmosphere lingering in the candle-lit room, orchestrated by you as you told your dream of seeing the famous fireworks of Corona. You informed them through ale-tainted words of their importance for you, as they happened on your birthday without fail every year, and when the men around you heard they all hooted an early happy birthday to you, all toasting to you and your contentment. 

At one point, at what you thought was your fifth glass, you scrambled on top of the table, to Hyunjin’s absolute horror, and you requested another toast.

“To people like me and you!” you exclaimed to the tavern, and everyone cheered so loudly that you thought your ears would lose its purpose. 

You then had the brilliant idea to try and jump down from the table - why, you were ready to take the leap when you heard a frightened yelp. Looking down, blinking hard to differentiate one man from another, you saw Hyunjin shooting up from his seat, arms reaching out.

With your mouth parted you felt his long, slender hands grip each side of your waist, and a small gasp escaped you as you as he lifted you in his arms, setting you down upon the tavern stone as quickly as he picked you up. His hands nearly left their place on you when you looked into his eyes, yours so wide at what he did he reflected your action.

Even in the chaos of the tavern around you, you found slight peace within his stone-cold eyes.

The tranquility was short-lived, when he shook his head, hands straying as they gripped the empty mug, turning to Chan, who was downing his own third beer of the night. “I’m going to take my leave now,” he said. 

“But it is past dusk!” The owner stood his ground, gathering all the empty mugs. “I cannot have you trotting about in this forest.

“And look—” he pointed to you, who was asking around for yet another mug-full of ale, being guiltily refused by the men surrounding you. “—she is in no state to travel. You both need rest.”

“We are fine,” Hyunjin insisted. “I will take care of the damned witch.”

“Stop it,” Chan warned, setting the objects upon the counter. “Just because she has hair which could wrap around our inn ten times, doesn’t mean she’s a witch.”

“Pony boyyy!”

Grimacing, Hyunjin turned to catch you, offering him a lop-sided smile as you stumbled up to him. “Ponyboy, serve me some ale!”

“Oh my God,” he muttered, looking you over, assessing your rather ridiculous state. “____, we are leaving.”

“Leaving?!” You repeated one horror. “But we cannot leave now!”

“That is what I am saying too!” Chan chimed in. 

Hyunjin did not acknowledge his friend’s comment, though. Only your refusal, as he propped his hands on his hips, leaning into you with brows furrowed. 

“___,” he whispered, and, oh, why was your breath abandoning you? “You come with me, or I can easily leave you here. You carry on drinking, hmm?”

Well, there it was. Of course, all you wanted to do at the time was drink till only the Den’s ale ran through your veins, but in reality, you knew your situation. The fireworks were mere days away, and although you would have gladly asked any of the others to accompany you to spare the agitation of this long-haired man, you could not dump yourself onto his friends. At least the former owed you a favour.

You had to see the fireworks. And only Hwang Hyunjin could show you in time.

“Fine,” you mumbled, but Hyunjin raised a hand to his ear, mocking a confused expression. 

“Wait, I’m sorry, what were you saying?” 

“Damn you, I said fine!” you exclaimed right into his ear, making him flinch. “I’m coming with you!” 

His amusement had not faded entirely, though, as a ghost of a smile still lingered on his lips. He turned to Bang Chan, who already had his arms held out. “You better not die,” he mused, and the long-haired man only scoffed before hugging his dear friend. 

Seungmin, then playing on the piano, waved his hand in goodbye, sending a flying kiss Hyunjin’s way, smiling adorably when the latter rolled his eyes. 

Chan also kissed your hand in respect, holding onto to it as you tried to steady yourself. “Farewell, ____,” he said with a radiant smile. “We will try and find you both in the capital if we can find the time.”

“Thank you for the drinks, Mr. Chan!” you yelled with too much enthusiasm, earning a chuckle from the man. “I wish I could repay you, but-”

“There is no need,” he countered kindly, waving off your concern. “Any friend of Hyunjin’s is a friend of mine.”

Scrunching your nose at the thought, you found the said-man already at the door, calling for you to hurry up or else he’ll dump you here and go alone. Sticking your tongue out, you bid your remaining farewells, waving to Seungmin before whirling, the whole tavern chanting goodbye to you as you followed, rather clumsily, Hyunjin out of The Wolf’s Den.

The cool, night air kissed your face as you stepped out into the forest, blinking excessively to familiarise yourself with your surroundings. Soft neighing was heard beside you, and you turned to the sound, finding Hyunjin going through his satchel, now strapped upon Kkami. The boy spared a glance towards you before saying, “Let’s get going.”

You looked at the horse, and suddenly you realised how big the animal really was. You feared even trying to slide your foot in the stirrup, knowing you would fall flat on your rear. 

Hyunjin, noticing your uncertainty, huffed out a malicious chuckle. “Oh, so now the bold little witch is scared, now? Of riding a horse?”

“The pan is right beside me,” you warned, wishing your glare would have intimidated the man who teased you. In reality, it only made him laugh some more. “And you already know I’ve never seen a horse in real life, let alone ride one.”

The man watched you rather pityingly, stroking Kkami’s mane before sighing. “Come here, then,” he started, patting the saddle. 

You tilted your head, confused. “For what?” You scowled at him, lower lip jutting out. “I am not going anywhere near you.”

“Well then, I hope you enjoy walking in forests at midnight,” he said, holding onto the reins as he propped one foot atop the stirrup. “All alone.”

He was about to hoist himself upon his horse when you groaned out, running to him, hair trailing after you. “Fine! Help me get up the bloody animal!”

Shaking his head, he descended upon the grass before you walked right up to Kkami, a little too big for your liking. He inhaled, a little too loudly, and then his hands gripped your waist, hoisting you up. 

You nearly yelped at the contact but remembered to grip onto the reins, propping one leg over the other. Your dress hitched a little higher with the distance, and you felt the eyes of your companion upon the exposed skin for barely a second before he grasped the pommel of his saddle, and climbed atop the horse. 

It was then you noticed the sheer closeness of him, right behind you, even more so when he leaned forward, taking the reins from you, his head hovering near yours. If you were not influenced by alcohol, you would have screamed at him for daring to approach you, but you were influenced, enough for a strange, sensational feeling to hit your gut. You tried your best to ignore it as you swiped the air with your raised pan, holding onto your bundles of hair.

“To the Kingdom, Pony boy!”

“Oh, be quiet!” Was his answer before snapping the reins, Kkami instantly obliging.

You instantly lurched back at the sheer force of the horse’s galloping, a shuddering breath whooshing out of you as you collided with Hyunjin’s chest. The animal picked up the pace immediately and swept through the vast expanse of the forest, the light of the moon guiding your way. You held onto the pommel of the saddle, occasionally letting yourself lean against the man behind you. If he noticed you closing the distance, he did not say anything of it.

Soon, the ball of light which accompanied you on your journey was halfway through its own, indicating that midnight had long passed. Fatigue crept up your mind, but with every bounce of the horse had you perking up, irritation marring your features.

“Hyunjiiin,” you whined, watching trees upon trees sweeping past you. “Can we rest already?”

You rather felt more than heard his sigh. “We need to get to the capital.” He snapped the reins, urging Kkami to gallop faster. “It’s already a two-day journey, we need to be as fast as possible.”

This was not acceptable in your mind. Holding onto your hair, you looked over your shoulder, catching your guide watching his path ahead. “But Hyunjin, I am tired!”

“That sounds more like a personal problem to me, ____,” he only said, raising a brow at you. The pathways became thinner, branches barely missing your heads. 

“Hyunjiiiiin!”

“What?!” he demanded, turning a right, past the signs. “Stop vexing me, already!”

“Pony boy, I will jump off Kkami if you don’t listen to me!” You warned, already sliding slightly off the saddle. With slight concern you realised that the horse was riding a little too fast for your drunken liking.

“Oh, I dare you to,” the man growled in your ear, already so irritated with your constant rambling. You, on the other hand, found no fear from his threat, only wishing he had not dared you to do something so risky.

Because now, you were going to do just that.

A thunderous shout escaped Hyunjin as you swiped your left leg over, sitting sideways upon the horse and ready to jump off and to your very possible death. With one hand guiding the reins his other immediately stopped you, wrapping around your stomach and pulling you straight against his chests.

“What in fine heavens are you doing?!” The man screamed in anger, causing you to wince. Kkami slowed with the pull of the reins. 

You looked up at him, wide eyes with confusion. “Why, what you dared me to!” You answered, as if it was a reasonable action to commit.

Hyunjin did not seem to agree with you on this. “You...you—”

“If you do not stop over, Pony Boy, I will jump once again!” you warned him, already wanting to squirm out of his grip if the damned man was not so strong.

You then flinched when an enraged cry escaped Hyunjin, pulling harshly on KKami’s reins. On command, the horse began to slow its galloping, and when your companion searched for a place to stay he spotted a little opening within the trees, a plain, grassy area among the oaks and bushes. Hyunjin, leading the group into this space, sighed in relief when he saw a little pond among the greenery, and stopped his horse before the calm waters.

The man, swinging his leg carefully behind you, got off the horse, and you waited for him to bring you down, only for him to create distance between you two as he propped his satchel before a large oak tree.

“Ponyboyyy,” you called, but he only looked back, knifing you with a glare. 

“Oh, so now you’re afraid to get off the horse?” he taunted, fisted hands upon his hips. “What about ten bloody minutes ago when you were ready to jump to your death?”

“I was a different person then.”

“No!” he countered right away, practically ripping out an apple from his bag. “No, you are still the same, drunk, witch who keeps putting a giant dump on my plans!”

You had the audacity to giggle. “I did not take any dumps on your plan, silly! In fact, was it not me who saved you?”

“Oh, be quiet!” he only demanded, making you laugh a little uncontrollably. 

“Will you help me down, already?” you sang out, only to irritate your companion some more. “Or will I have to risk breaking my legs?”

The prolonged silence had you nearly sliding off the horse when you heard his heavy footsteps, harsh grumbling sounding from the trees until Hyunjin advanced to where you sat, dropping your locks of hair upon the ground. Strong hands held onto your waist, and you grabbed onto his shoulders quicker than you thought, clinging onto him as he descended you from Kkami, neighing from the lack of passengers.

His hands left your sides instantly, and you did not know why you missed their presence. Perhaps the alcohol messed with your mind a little too much.

You watched as Hyunjin began to collect some wood, a few thick branches from the trees and bushes scattered around the grasslands. Hair trailing behind, you walked to where he dumped the wood beside the pond, settling yourself with your satchel strapped to you.

Your eyes lingered on him still when he sat down beside you, maintaining a distance as he brought out his flint and steel. Creating fiction, he swiped against the materials until a spark was ignited, and quickly he brought it near the wood until the spark caught on. The man began to blow softly as the fire expanded, catching onto every twig and branch until it spread to the very ends of the wood, illuminating the empty expanse. 

Hyunjin brought out a few edibles, while you hugged yourself a little tighter, the past-midnight air powering over the fire. He looked over the strips of meat, and slid his eyes to your satchel.

“Pass me your pan.”

You squint your eyes at him. “And why do you want my pan?”

The man cocked his head, locks of raven hair spilling over his shoulder. “Why would I want a frying pan, ____?” 

“Don’t be smart with me!” You chanted, opening up your satchel, the black utensil in display. 

“Just give me the damned thing,” he ordered, holding out a hand. You, on the other hand, curled a smile upon your lips as you brought it out, refusing to give him the pan.

“What is the magic word?” You asked, all sweet and sugary.

Hyunjin’s brows dipped in annoyance. “Now!”

“Wrong!” You sang out, swinging the pan in your hand. The gesture seemed to tick the man off even more. “Guess again.”

“____!” He snapped, and you let out a cackle at his reaction. “I am extremely tired and hungry, so stop toying with me and hand me the bloody frying pan.”

“Fine!” You responded, and did not realise the full intensity of you whacking the pan to him till it hit Hyunjin right in the face.

A pained groan escaped him as he dropped his meat, hand instantly rushing to his face to cover the scratch marring his cheek. You let out a shocked gasp, eyes instantly looking at his covered face.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry,” you began, hands reaching to his wrists, but he turned away from you, hissing. 

“Damn it,” he cursed, pulling away slightly, and with slight distress saw an angry cut across his cheek. “Are you crazy?”

“Hyunjin, I’m so, so, so sorry, please—” you were about to beg for forgiveness when you had an idea. 

“Oh yes!” you exclaimed, which was not received well with the injured beside you. You ignored his grumbling, and grabbed his wrist. “Wait, Ponyboy! Stop covering your face!”

“Stop calling me Ponyboy!” he retorted, but that was not important when you knew how to fix your little mistake. 

You brought his hands from his face, and you blinked several times to notice the slash of the rusty pan. “Wait, stay still—”

“What are you trying to do?” he demanded, trying to pry your hands off but then you impaled him with your stare. 

“Ponyboy, let me help.”

He matched your glower. “What are you going to do, huh? Save me again?”

You did not answer him, separating a small section of your hair as you wrapped it lightly around your finger. You then reached that hand out, bracing yourself for the touch.

The first caress of your fingers against Hyunjin’s cheek had him completely freezing his complaints. 

Noticing, you were careful — so, so careful, when you relished the softness of his skin. It was incredibly unfair; had this man not travelled places, gotten himself in filthy situations, only for his skin to be flawless? You knitted your brows at this detail.

“I’m going to sing, now, okay?” you murmured to him. “Do not be scared over what happens.”

“Oh, because something magical is going to happen, no?” he taunted, eyes darting between you and you hair-engulfed fingers. 

You only smiled at his ignorance before you closed your eyes. 

Wait, how did the song go again? 

Oh yes. I remember. Stupid ale. I’m never drinking again.

You parted your mouth and began to sing.

“Flower, gleam and glow.”

Hyunjin stopped breathing.

“Let your power shine.

Make the clock reverse.

Bring back what once, was mine.”

Hwang Hyunjin stopped breathing, ceased completely because the moment the words fluttered from your mouth, the moment your hair began to glow all over, like molten lava slowly spreading over a volcano, he did not know how to function.  

You continued to sing, distinctly aware of his eerie stillness as the hair, brushing against his cheek, performed its healing on the cut, forming more flesh from the damaged skin and repairing itself.

“Heal what has been hurt.

Change the Fate’s design.”

The verses rolled off your tongue, never opening your eyes as your fingers caressed his skin, wonderfully warm underneath you as additional warmth from your hair radiated all around the opening. The fire seemed so insignificant now, when you possessed all the light in the world, threaded within the locks of your hair.

And Hyunjin only watched, eyes starstruck over your transformation.

“Save what has been lost.

Bring back what once was mine…”

At last, you opened your eyes, meeting with the sole man in the forest. His awe-filed gaze beheld you, in all your celestial glory, and more warmth radiated from you, specifically from your cheeks. 

You nearly forgot to end the healing poem.

“What once was...mine.”

The glow lingered when you closed your mouth. Your fingers lingered along his cheek.

His eyes, too, lingered upon yours. Almost unable to stray. 

Even when his hesitant hand raised to your fingers, feeling the cut on his skin - now gone, courtesy of your witchcraft.

No. Not witchcraft. Magic.

“I…” he tried to say, but his words were paused, crippled under your fantastical abilities. “It...it is healed.”

You felt your hair’s light begin to dim. “I do not lie, Ponyboy.”

His gaze darted all over your face, one glance at your parted lips and felt another sense of warmth heating his face. “Hmm. I guess not.”

Something within you wished he would lean a little closer, share some of the heat which you were losing the longer you stayed silent. You dared not take the step, despite your entire mind begging you to stop being a coward. 

Come on, Ponyboy. Do not fear like I do.

Perhaps it was only wishful thinking. 

For the man clasped your fingers, and brought them down from his face, the hair curled around loosening. His hand, letting yours go, strayed to his side, where the damned frying pan lay discarded. 

Hyunjin did not feel much like cooking anymore. 

“We should sleep,” he said, leaning against the tree trunk. “There is still a day’s journey left for Corona.”

You only nodded, rounding up your locks and attempted to create a make-shift bed from the volume. He watched you work, shivering slightly from the icy night air, despite the fire still burning.

When finished, you dusted your dress, laying down upon the hair-bed, facing Hyunjin’s left, the side of his face darkened by the direction of the moonlight. He spread his leg before him, sighing out, and crossed his arms, closing his eyes. 

Even then, he heard your teeth chattering.

Of course, he could always ignore it. It was not like him to care for the wellbeing of others, especially those who managed to piss him off every time they opened their mouth.

He glanced at you.

There you were, knees raised to your chest, curled up in a little ball with your masses of hair, engulfing you almost completely. Even with your magical advantages you trembled under the midnight chill, cursing nature for being too, literally, cold. 

Hyunjin cursed too, but himself, when he took off his turquoise vest, sliding it off his arms, and stretched towards you. 

It was your turn to still under another’s presence, as the leather attire settled on you like a blanket, instantly warming you under the shade of the oak trees. You let out a soft hum at the heat, and the man widened his eyes at the reaction. He found it annoyingly endearing.

“Thank you, Ponyboy,” you murmured to him, a lazy gaze on him. 

He did not say anything in return. Only went back to his original position, fingers pinching his hair grip, sliding it out as his locks escaped from the tie, cascading his shoulders as he smoothed them down. He then sat down, leaning against the tree, spreading a leg before him.

A comfortable silence settled upon the both of you, save for the leaves rustling from the breeze and the sound of crickets scattered around the forest. You closed your eyes, fatigue creeping over you, but you held on to your conscious, a few unanswered questions in mind. 

“Hey, Ponyboy?”

You heard, rather than see, the man sigh.

“Hmm?”

Keeping an eye closed, you observed his lack of movement, a hand upon his raised knee. “Why did you agree to letting me come with you?”

A soft scoff emitted from him. “Because you would have knocked me out with that damned frying pan if I said no.”

“No I would not!” you argued, but when he shifted his eyes to you in disbelief, you found yourself doubting your own words. “Well, well...you would have defended yourself just fine!”

“Whatever you say,” he said, facing ahead once more. 

The quiet was blanketed upon the both of you once more, yet you still looked at him. Dear God, nature was truly unjust for making him so ethereal. 

“Is there something else you wish to ask me, witch?”

You pouted at the name. “Do not call me that.”

“And you can keep calling me Ponyboy?”

The mention of the endearment had you giggling once again. “And what about it,” you mused, smirking,”Ponyboy?”

You smiled harder when Hyunjin tutted. “You are truly...impossible!”

A laugh escaped you, you shifting in your bed of hair. You could not help biting your cheek, as you wished to say one more thing to your companion, the man who had closed his eyes, ready to sleep.

“I can feel you looking at me,” he said, making you blink away the slight daze you were in. 

You bit your lip before parting your mouth. “I…” you brought his vest closer to yourself. 

“I just wanted to say thank you.”

Hyunjin opened his eyes.

“For what?”

“You know…” you ran a hand over his turquoise vest. “This. The inn...letting me come with you in general.” He was about to open his mouth to object, but you stopped him. “No, shush! You did not have to.”

He rested his stare upon you, locking his hands over his knee. “You saved me from death, ____. It is the least I can do.”

“Well,” you murmured. “Thank you anyway. For putting up with me.” you let out a huff. “Drunk and sober.”

A small chuckle emitted from him, raking his locks back. “I am never letting you drink again.”

“I bet.” you could not help the slight burning of your cheeks. “I must have been such a bane to your existence this entire time. I would not have been surprised if you left me at that inn.”

There was a pause after, and you figured he was tired of talking so you closed your eyes, ready to lose yourself to temporary oblivion. 

Then you heard his whisper. 

“I would never do that, ____.”

You dared not look at him. God, you could feel him looking at you, but you did not dare, for you feared what would happen if you matched your stare. 

So you kept your eyes close, the image of a certain long-haired man lingering in your mind as you slept.

And the certain long-haired man you thought of, slumped against his tree, only watched you drift away to another world, wondering whether you truly were the bane of his existence.

The answer he received, as he closed his own eyes, scared him.

For no matter how drunk, how tenacious you might be, he would still not have abandoned you at the inn.

He could not have abandoned you at the inn. Anywhere, for that matter.

It was that rather strange thought, and his even stranger heart rate, which finally had him joining you in slumber.

THE TWO OF YOU TRAVELLED FOR ANOTHER TWO DAYS BEFORE YOU REACHED YOUR DESTINATION.

By that time you had fully recovered from your drunken state, and went through with the dire consequences that brought with it. Of course, Hyunjin made sure to mock you as your head hurt throughout the journey, and only ceased when you whipped out the frying pan, promising to hit him properly this time. 

You both were actually arguing over the last slice of cheese when you looked towards the path, and spotted the giant, cream-coloured turrets, shooting up in the sky, peeking out from the trees. You let out a scream then, making Hyunjin nearly drop the cheese, and you took the reins from the boy as Kkami galloped faster towards the kingdom. 

“Slow down, ____!”

But you did not listen to him, your hair about to fall from the horse had your companion not held onto the masses, and your blood began to thrum under your skin when the lining of the trees broke.

An excited scream lurched out of you.

A baby pink bridge stretched beyond your vision, guiding you to the entrance of the kingdom. It was plated in solid gold, and several people walked up and down, smiling politely at you as you stopped Kkami before the start. The entire castle was in full view, despite the length of the bridge, and you could barely contain the thrill which drummed in your veins.

“Hyunjin, do you see this?” 

He did not share your raging enthusiasm. “Just carry on riding, witch!”

You stuck your tongue out to him before you snapped the reins, Kkami starting off on the bridge. You heard the waves lap against the stone, the clear blue water twinkling in the sun, and the citizens watched you rush past in mild surprise, not expecting someone to be this excited for entering the capital.

But of course you were excited. Especially when you arrived at the place you’ve been dreaming to see on your birthday.

“____, you heathen, slow down or you’ll get us killed!” Hyunjin shouted over the rapid clicking of the horseshoes over the stone. 

You only obliged when you passed the entrance, guards nodding, and slowed Kkami’s gallop to a mild trotting around the streets. There was buzzing all around, thatched houses displaying colourful banners, depicting the fireworks which were to occur that evening, and many people seemed to have dressed up, enjoying each other’s company, children running around with kites and ribbons, playing and simply having fun.

It made you smile a little, seeing everyone in such harmony. You hoped you would be able to join in.

Hyunjin jumped off the horse, to your surprise, dusting himself off. “Off,” he ordered, hands out, and you complied, wrapping your arms around his neck as he brought you down, bare feet touching the cobblestone. Your hair tumbled down from the saddle, and a few people nearby watched in awe at your neverending locks. 

“Why are we getting off?” you asked, picking up as much of your hair as you could. 

Hyunjin grabbed onto the ends which you could not carry, one hand guiding Kkami along with him. “The fireworks are still hours away.” He began to walk, leading you deeper into the streets of Corona. “So I’m going to use this time to search for the whereabouts of someone.”

“Oh, is this the whole Jisung business?” your eyes darted everywhere, each flash of colour, of each depiction, drawing, painting of the fireworks. 

You saw the man visibly stiffen. “Yes,” he muttered, fingers tightening on the reins. “I know a few friends in the city who might know where he went.” 

“Show me the way, then!” you declared, returning each awe-filled smile one sent you. “If you have more friends like Mr. Chan and Seungmin then I want to meet them!”

Clicking his tongue, he said, “If you’re going to end up drunk with them I’d rather you didn’t.”

“You’re just jealous that your friends like me more than you,” you mused.

“You keep thinking that,” he only said dryly, though he feared that might be true. You had a habit of creating an unforgettable impression of yourself to others. 

You certainly left that impression on the poor man who walked oh so carefully beside you.

Another turn of a street and you were met with various shops, the scent of various savories and sugary desserts tempting your nose, and your eyes being bombarded with all the goods from around the country. You demanded Hyunjin to provide you with some pastries, but he only glared in rejection, moving on from the stalls. 

The man then stopped before a flower shop, dozens of different forms scattered around the opening. Stepping aside what nature has to offer, Hyunjin went inside, only to be met with more flowers.

“Felix?!” 

“Who is that?” you asked, but your question was answered when a small, blond haired man stepped out from the back door, holding a bouquet of roses in his little hands. He adorned a peach-coloured shirt and black trousers, leather shoes thudding as he walked inside the shop.

This man smiled brightly at seeing your companion. “Oh, afternoon, Hyunjin!” he greeted. “I’m surprised to see you here..”

“I was not going to come to Corona so early, as well, but something has come up.” He looked around, tying Kkami’s reins onto the wooden column, holding up the shop sign. “Say, has Jisung met you in the past two days?”

Felix furrowed his brows in thought, sliding the roses in an intricately decorated vase. “No, actually,” he admitted. “I haven’t seen him in about two months.”

“Damn it,” Hyunjin seethed, playing with a stray lock. “Is Jeongin here?”

“He’s outside, but he’ll be back any moment.” Felix then looked past you and your companion, and parted his mouth. “Ah, here we go!”

You turned around, and instantly softened at the beautiful boy which skipped into the flower shop, black curls bouncing along his step as he held bags, stained slightly with grease. “Felix, look!” He proclaimed, holding his possessions out and catching a glimpse of all the sugary goodness Hyunjin refused to buy you. “Lunch!”

The said-man rolled his eyes, dusting his hands. “You are crazy if you think I’m going to let you eat all of those pastries for lunch.”

“Oh, don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud!” Jeongin whined, propping the bags on the counter. He widened his grin at seeing the long-haired man. “Hyunjin!” 

“Hey, buddy,” you heard him say, while he brought out a hand to ruffle the boy’s hair. “Tell me you’re still as troublesome for Felix as before.”

“I could never let you down,” Jeongin drawled, earning a laugh from his elder.

He then turned to you, and his mischievous demeanour dissolved into amazement. “Oh my, miss, your hair!” His eyes skimmed over the locks, astonishment growing. “I’ve never seen anything like this before!”

“It can be a nightmare,” you confessed, dropping the masses of hair from your arms. “Carrying it, at least.”

Jeongin studied your phenomenon a little longer. “Miss, may I offer you assistance, then?”

You raised a curious brow. “And what would that be?”

“Well, if it can be bothersome,” he started, locking his hands behind his back, a little shy. “How about I braid it for you?”

“You…” your eyes widened, your fingers threading through your hair. “Can you do it?”

The young boy looked to Hyunjin, who very much doubted him. “I mean, you can go about your business, and until then I can take some trouble away from the lady.”

“Jeongin,” Felix warned. “Don’t go asking things like that!” He turned his eyes towards you, apologetic.  “I’m deeply sorry, my lady, but this boy is still learning to hold his tongue.”

“No, no, it’s alright, Mr. Felix,” you reassured him, facing Hyunjin as he, too, pondered over this offer. 

The long-haired man eyed the youngest a little warily. “I will be nearby, so I guess ____ can stay.” he then knitted his brows. “If I hear that you caused any inconvenience to her—”

“Oh, don’t you worry, Hyunjin, we’ll be fine!” Jeongin sent you a dazzling grin, bowing. “I will be on my best behaviour.”

Felix propped a little hand to his hip. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Hyunjin slid his eyes to you, parting his mouth. “You’ll be okay, right?”

You shook your head. “I’ll be fine!” Raising your hands, you turned the man around, pushing him out of the flower shop. “Go and find that Jisung man of yours and let me enjoy my birthday!”

“Alright, alright!” he looked over his shoulders. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“Don’t miss me too much, Ponyboy!” you simpered, to which the man only rolled his eyes, leaving your sight as he turned to another corner.

You then turned to the two boys, smiling kindly. “In advance, I apologise if I annoy you with my rambling.”

Laughing, Felix gathered up a pot of orange tulips, turning towards the back door. “Ah, don’t be sorry, Miss ____, consider us good friends! I’ll be going in and out to check up on lunch but Jeongin will be here.”

“I won’t bore you, promise!” the younger exclaimed. “I have many good stories of Hyunjin!”

“Now that,” you get out as you laugh, “Is something I wish to hear.”

“Only for you, Miss ____,” Jeongin mused, gesturing towards a stool sat beside the counter. “You can sit here while I braid your hair. I don’t want you getting tired.”

You thanked him, walking over and settling yourself upon the cushioned seat. “If you can tie up all this mess, then I owe you a huge favour.”

The boy stepped towards your back, assessing how he was going to start this difficult process. Making an approving noise, he then grabbed the bags he first held when he came inside, bringing out a sugared doughnut and holding it out. “Snack?”

Seeing the treat had you yelling in joy. “Of course!” you took the doughnut from him, immediately digging in. “Thank you, Mr. Jeongin!”

“Please, Miss ____, just call me Jeongin,” he offered, separating your locks into three sections, splitting them downwards and creating distance between them on the floor. “I feel much too old when you call me that.”

“As long as you call me only ____,” you said as you ate, watching the busy street. You then felt a faint tightness on your scalp, and sensed the boy’s fingers commencing their task.

As Jeongin worked on braiding your hair, you slowly depleted his sweets, striking up conversations of the Kingdom, the shop and the people who dwelled here. You learned a great deal from his words, describing you the constant merriment within the walls throughout the year, yet today was the most important day for Corona - the fireworks celebrating the ascension of the King and Queen who lived in the castle. 

The young boy also explained his relation to your grumpy companion, explaining that their acquaintance originated from childhood, when Hyunjin would fight off any bullies which tried to pick on him, yet would be the first to tease him whenever he had the chance. They, along with Felix and others, all grew up together, but Hyunjin had been the first to adventure out of Corona along with Jisung, who, too, was a childhood friend.

It was welcoming, hearing the humble beginnings of Hwang Hyunjin. A true shame he turned out to be a grouchy and annoying bastard. 

You cocked your head, reassessing that statement. Well, he was not a bastard. That was a much too harsh a word to describe him. In truth, you wished you still harboured the feelings you first inhibited when you met him. 

In truth, you found yourself warming up to him. 

I would never do that, ____.

That night, beside the moonlit pond, when he declared in a quiet murmur that he would never abandon you, despite your irritable demeanour. It was terrifying, because it was all you could think about. Although it had not even been a week since you healed him in the woods, here you were, pondering over him as if you had been all your life. 

This only added to your fear. 

“Isn’t that so, ____?”

You perked up at Jeongin’s question, looking over your shoulder to see him already so far ahead in his task. The plait, each third huge and reducing the original length of your hair. You observed with further fascination that the boy had created another network of braiding, woven into the bigger thirds, and you let out a sigh of wonder, thankful for your miracle for the first time. “I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t listen.”

“Oh, I was just saying how Hyunjin should have stayed in the Kingdom, but he left to do whatever he did with Jisung.”

You brought your feet upon the railings of your stool. “Jeongin, what does Hyunjin actually do?” You asked, curiosity fresh on your tongue. 

“Apart from being a pain in the rear?” A laugh escaped you, and Jeongin continued braiding, nearly finished. “Well, all I know is that he’s involved in a lot of trading circles. Every week I used to see him bringing something new from foreign lands.”

“So a true adventurer, then?” 

Jeongin propped a third into another. “In a sense.”

After a half-hour Felix joined the two of you, mitten-covered hands holding a tray of hot bread as he set it on the countertop. He admired his friend’s artistry as well, taking off the gloves and watching for a little while as Jeongin was on the last parts of your hair. 

He then spoke. “I have an idea.”

The younger kept working as he said, “Go on.”

Stepping past you so he faced you, Felix propped a finger over his chin. “Hmm...yes…”

You gave him a confused look. “What do you mean, ‘yes’?”

But he hurried out of the shop, grabbing different variations of small flowers, all ranging from soft, pastelled colours, and walked over to you again.

“May I?” He asked, and you nodded, understanding what he was about to do. 

As you thought, the man picked out a blue forget-me-not, and planted it within the folds of your hair.

“Hmm,” he only got out, continuing this as he scattered more flowers in your locks, adding colour as he then moved past you, going behind as the flowers now littered the back of your head, lining against the plaits. 

“Felix, this will take you forever!” You said, worried that you may waste their time.

“No it won’t, Miss ____,” he waved off your concern, carrying on the task as if it would not take him a whole day to complete. “We want your hair looking immaculate for tonight. Especially if it’s your birthday today!”

You smiled at the kindness, initiating further conversation with Hyunjin’s friends as they kept you entertained throughout the afternoon. It was the first time meeting them, and already you wished to see them often. Secretly, you envied your companion for having such sincere friends.

You, on the other hand, were never given the chance to create such special bonds.

It was another hour before you heard a satisfied noise escape the youngest, and you turned, catching a victorious grin on his face. 

“It’s done, ____!”

On cue, you looked down, and gasped.

The finished braid was a masterpiece: all the networks of plaits were worked intricately into the original big three, and at the end were tied by a band of daisies, knotted so tightly there was hardly room for the locks to be set free. Felix tucked in the last of the flowers, and this added feature enhanced your hair even more, like a little garden of your own growing in your locks. The whole result had you returning their smiles. 

“Oh my God, Felix, Jeongin!” you started, swivelling on your stool, braid following. “It's exquisite!”

The two mocked a bow at you, receiving your applause with grace. “It was our pleasure, ____,” the elder said, a toothy grin on display. “I know I like having flowers in my hair.”

“Now you’ll be the talk of the town,” Jeongin drawled, which had you hesitantly laughing. The younger’s eyes then perked up past you. “Oh, look, just in time!”

You turned in your seat.

Stilled at seeing Hwang Hyunjin catching sight of you. Your new hairstyle.

His eyes lit up at the change. 

He saw the huge plait, and the flowers which littered in your hair, and thought he saw paradise inhabiting earth. He then saw your face accompanying this hair, and knew paradise will be staying for a while. Taking in the decoration, the intricate consideration of detail within your locks, had you elevated in every single way. 

By God, he found you so beautiful.

Jeongin raised a brow over Hyunjin’s dumbfounded reaction. “Are you not going to say anything?”

But the man was silent, hands on his satchel tightening. He then saw an empty expanse in your hair, just above your ear, and had a little idea.

Spotting his favourite flower, he picked it up from the stash outside the shop, and slowly walked towards you, your eyes never leaving his.

When he stopped before you, he raised the white rose, sliding the small stem within your locks. It found home above your ear, and the man nearly swooned at how perfectly it suited you.

He curled his lips at the sight of you. “You look...ethereal.”

You cursed at the hairs at the back of your neck, which stood erect at the soft praise. “Thank you, Ponyboy.”

Jeongin let out a snort, in result receiving a glare from Felix. “Ponyboy?”

Hyunjin’s smile faltered. “Do not even ask,” he only snapped, and returned his focus to you. “Let’s go.”

You stood up from your stool. “Where are we going?”

He began to walk out of the shop. “Our next stop,” he said, smiling at your scowl over his vague answer.

As he glanced at his friends, he saluted, a gesture of friendly mockery. “Thank you, you two.”

“Anytime, Hyunjin,” Felix said, and he took your hand, pressing a chaste kiss upon your skin. “And thank you for letting us decorate your hair.”

“No, please,” you countered, “Thank you for such an extraordinary present. I won’t forget the gesture.”

“Do see us again, ____!” Jeongin exclaimed, which, after you chuckled, you promised you would.

After waving the two goodbye, you followed Hyunjin out of the flower shop, a confident stride in your step as your flower-kissed braid trailed after you. 

The streets were fuller, the crowds more loud and excited as you two squeezed through people, with Kkami trotting behind on Hyunjin’s leash. The silly horse tried to pluck a few flowers from your braid but you made sure your hair stayed intact, having no intention of it being ruined in any circumstances. 

“Hyunjin, where are you taking me?” You demanded, trudging through the streets. Your feet, still bare, began to hurt. “If we don’t stop soon I’ll collapse!” 

He spared a glance at your step, wincing as a pained groan escaped you. “It’s not far,” he said, looking ahead once more.

“Ponyboy, can’t you carry me?” you whined, and when he turned back to see you, you braced yourself for a verbal lashing with the frown he adorned. 

Instead, you were hit with something quite different. 

After a hard, ragged sigh, he paused his walking, widening his arms from behind. “You better not be heavy,” he warned.

You watched him hunchbacked, dumbfounded at his acceptance. Since when was he complacent on giving you comfort?

Your cheeks then burned when you were reminded of that night again. Of the turquoise vest, which, although was hugging his lean figure now, was hugging you. 

“Are you going to just keep staring at me,” Hyunjin jeered, bringing you back to reality, “Or are you actually going to jump on?”

“Oh!” you got out, and stepped towards him.

You slid your arms around his shoulders, locking your hands upon his chest. You then felt his hands wrap around your thighs, and a small breath went free from your throat as he hitched you upwards, grip tightening on you. 

“You are very lucky to have me, witch,” the man gritted out. 

He then yelped as you pinched his shoulder. “You are very lucky to have me, Ponyboy,” you only mused, and raised your fist in the air, despite the growing nerves. “Come on now, let’s get going!”

Hyunjin obliged you, starting up a heavy, yet steady pace towards their destination. Each time he took a step, it radiated off you, and you hoped to all the heavens above that your body would not give up on you. Every time the man hitched you higher, though, had the possibility becoming much less likely.

You had not realised just how much his hands on your thighs affected your very senses. 

A few specifics from the crowd watched the two of you in adoration, murmuring how sweet it was for your lover to hold you when you were tired. When Hyunjin heard these whispers he nearly dumped you on the cobblestone, but you did not miss the scarlet blush which developed on his face. The rather charming image had you smiling as you rested your cheek against his neck. 

The man kept his hands secure, never letting you go till you arrived at wherever he wished to take you. You only knew you arrived when his grip on you loosened, straightening his back so you had no choice but to feel the street beneath you. So bizarre that you missed his touch — his warm, welcoming fingers.

You followed to where he looked, and saw the front of the shop littered with shoes. Different types of footwear, all neatly stacked on wooden racks, their sizes carved into the wood. You did not have the time to carefully admire each design before Hyunjin tied Kkami to another column, feeding him an apple before taking your hand and leading you inside the store.

The minute you entered you were welcomed with a homely extravagance, more and more shoes being displayed all around you, different colours and patterns luring you into getting all the pairs. It was a little odd, that your companion wished to show you this place so eagerly, but when he rang a bell atop the counter, and another man with fire-kissed hair entered from another door, furiously sewing on the back of a child’s shoe, you assumed that he must be acquainted.

“Minho!” Hyunjin exclaimed, following the said-man to where he paused his stride, setting the shoe down and breaking the thread, finished. 

“And what do you want?” was the heartfelt response, as the seller put the object under the counter. Hyunjin mockingly pouted, to which his friend scoffed. “Oh, you’re not getting any free clothes this time! Pay or go away!”

You let out a small chuckle at his tagline, and the man’s eyes darted to you, brow raised. “And who is this lady?” he inquired, fingers drumming on the countertop. “Who is much too beautiful to be accompanying this swindler?”

“Hey!” the man beside you objected, but you could not help the laughter which spluttered from your lips. 

“My name is ____,” you said, locking your hands behind your back. You then roamed your eyes about the room, turning to him once again, awed. “Did you make all these yourself?”

“Why, of course!” Minho opened up the countertop, joining you as he admired his work. “I take pride in my work, and am glad you appreciate them.” He then glanced at Hyunjin, squinting his eyes. “It’s honest money, after all.”

Confused, you looked to your companion but he only rolled his eyes, waving off the comments. “Save the sarcasm for later, buddy,” he drawled, and propped a hand upon his friend’s shoulder. “Now show me your best shoes for women.”

You widened your eyes. “Hyunjin?”

Minho curved his lips. “Oh, trying to delve into a new world, now?” 

“Shut up,” was his answer, as the long-haired man strolled further into the shop, right where all the elegant, more colourful shoes were inhabited. “Ah, here we go.”

You followed him hurriedly, not quite understanding. “Hyunjin, what are you doing?”

He only trailed a finger across the racks, humming to a few shoes which caught his eye. “Getting you a present.”

This only added to your shock. “What?” You breathed out, but he was too busy picking out a pair of boots, dark with silver lining around the edges. “Hyunjin!”

“How do you feel about these?” He held them out to you, who still did not comprehend why he was giving you a birthday present. 

Well, it was your birthday. So why did you expect him to give you nothing at all?

“____!”

You blinked. “What?”

He holds the black boots. “What are your thoughts?” 

Before you could answer, Minho clicked his tongue, walking to where you both stood. “Hyunjin, do you not know anything of styling?”

“What do you mean by that?” The long-haired man furrowed his brows. 

“Whatever you think I did.” The shoe-seller turned to you, mock pity in his gaze. “My lady, let me help you out. This buffoon does not know the art of attire.”

“Ugh!” Your companion grumbled, and you could not help but melt a little at his pouted irritation.

Minho watched his friend cross his arms, looking away in annoyance. “Let him sulk,” he said, and smiled at you. “Until then, I’ll find you something worth your beauty.”

You return his enthusiasm, letting him whisk you further into the women’s section, all the shoes in fashion at the time displayed before you, begging to be worn by you. Minho’s designing eye had to be commended — the man knew how to create.

“Let me see what you’re wearing,” the orange-haired man ordered, and you gave him a little twirl of your violet dress, your flower-littered braid following. 

“The flowers are adorable, might I add,” he said, and you thanked him excitedly, watching him choose more softer colours to pick your perfect pair of shoes from. 

At last, his hands settled upon soft, ballerina-like shoes, lilac in colour and ribbons flaring out from the back. With a satisfied hum he brought out the pair, holding them out to you. “What do you think?”

You brought out your hands, holding the shoes, and felt your smile grow. “They’re so pretty,” you gushed, feeling the silky ribbon between your fingers. “May I try them on?”

“Go right ahead, my lady.” He gestured to a leather seat, and you sat yourself down, just as Hyunjin walked up to Minho, scowl still there. “Are you done moping around now?”

“Quiet, you,” your companion snapped, but his agitation faded when he saw you dust away at your feet, and slide them inside the shoes. Your other foot pursued the first, and you stood the ribbons scattered to the floor.

“You’re supposed to tie them,” Minho explained, about to show you when a hand stopped him. 

He was met with Hyunjin’s determined features. “I’ll do it.”

You watched as the long-haired boy stopped before you, hands landing on your shoulders as he pushed you back on the seat. He then knelt before you, taking the attached ribbon in his hands. “May I?”

Your heart skipped happily a little beat. “Of course.”

Raising your leg slightly, you offered him easier access as he began looping the two strips of ribbon, one overlapping the toner and continuing this cycle till the material wrapped all the way up to your shin. You slid your dress higher, and only stopped when Hyunjin tied a little bow at the top of your entangled ribbon. He then did the same to your other leg, effortlessly wrapping the strips all around your leg till it hit the shin once more. After another bow, his fingers lingered on your leg, barely skimming over your ribbon-adorned skin.

He looked up at you, and an unrecognisable haze lifted in his eyes. “Happy birthday, ____.”

You certainly could recognise the butterflies in your stomach, fluttering much too uncontrollably. “Thank you, Hyunjin.”

Perhaps you both could have relished in this position forever were someone’s voice not dragged you both down to reality. 

“Are you both going to keep eye-rutting each other or am I going to get my fare?”

You immediately stood up, feeling yourself heat up over the comment. Hyunjin, too, snarled at his amused friend, buttoning and unbuttoning the top of his vest. “I’ve got it, you greedy prick.”

“Good,” Minho only said, smirking at the two of you as he retreated to his counter, where all his gold was stored. You and Hyunjin followed him there, the slight distance having too much weight for it to be comfortable.

Your companion brought out a little bag, jingling as he set it upon the countertop. “This alright?”

Taking the bag, his friend weighed it with his hand, and nodded in satisfaction. “Better than that.”

“Thank you so much for this, Minho,” you began, putting a hand to your chest in respect. “I will cherish these shoes.”

“You better, my lady,” he teased, but returned your gesture. 

You turned to leave with Hyunjin, beginning to head out when he stopped. “Oh, I nearly forgot!” 

He rushed back to the seller, who sighed. “You just can’t leave me alone, can you?”

His question was ignored, and was instead presented with another. “Minho, have you seen Jisung recently?”

This had the fire-kissed man cocking his head. “I did,” he answered, shocking Hyunjin. “Yesterday, actually.”

“By God—” The long-haired man could barely contain himself. He whirled to you, pointing to the entrance. “You go outside and untie Kkami. I’ll be right out.”

“Hyunjin,” you tried to object, but the look on his face, the silent pleading, had you giving in, nodding grimly as you exited the shop, waving to the owner.

Kkami welcomed you with a hearty neigh, and you stroked his mane, slowly untying his reins. “Why does he not tell me things?”

Your answer was another noise from the horse, and you patted the creature, leading it out on the streets. The sun was descending, light still clear yet the first glimpses of oranges had arrived. The fireworks were mere hours away.

The man had not come out after a while, you looking back every now and then, catching concern in his dazzling features. The people’s excitement did little to have you join in, and you began to worry that something may be wrong. 

You were about to go inside the shoe shop once more when you caught sight of Hyunjin exiting, hands fisted at his sides, expression grim. 

Stopping before you, you worked up the courage to ask first. “What’s going on?”

Surprised, you noticed he could not even look at you. His eyes drifted away, a tick in his jaw, teeth grazing over another. Oh, the man was enraged. 

When let in a deep breath, he faced you, catching guilt in his slender eyes. “I cannot be with you when the fireworks occur.”

Silence.

Despite the merriment around the two of you, the pure joy radiating in the kingdom, you felt your heart stop. “What?”

The man tightened his little ponytail, locks still caressing his neck as he tried to avert your gaze. “I have to be elsewhere when nightfalls, but I can show you where you can see them best, so you’ll be okay-”

“Hyunjin-”

He continued, closing his eyes. “I don’t want you missing the fireworks, so let me show you the best spot before I have to leave.”

You could not believe your ears. “Hyunjin, I-”

“And I know how important they are to you, so I suggest we start going right now, so I can be on my way-”

He would have gone forever, rambling excuses if you had not looked down, at his clenching, unclenching hands. If you had not reached your own hands out, clasping them with his. The man ceased his digression at the sudden contact, and finally whipped his head to you. His frantic eyes met yours, and something within you cracked. 

You did not let go as you breathed out, “What’s the matter, Ponyboy?”

No irritation responded to you from the nickname. Only his commencing of his thumbs, stroking the back of your hands. “I have learned of Jisung’s location.”

Parting your mouth in surprise, you asked, “Where is he, then?”

“I do not know where he is now, but I know where he will go tonight.” his gaze scrutinised you. “And do not think I will tell you of that place.”

“What?” Bewildered, you took a step closer, and noticed the lack of distance between the two of you. At the time, you took no note of it. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“Because for the past few days I’ve been with you, the one thing I’ve learned about you is that you’re incredibly foolish.” You scoffed at this strange declaration, but he carried on. “I know that if you learned where I was going you’re going to follow, especially if I tell you not to go.”

You were about to object, but you shut your mouth, glancing sheepishly back at him. “Well, maybe you should let me come with you!”

“Damn it, ____, I probably would have any other time.” He let out a harsh sigh. “It is much too dangerous tonight.”

“Damn you, Hyunjin, what is it that’s so troubling that you even can’t tell me?” you demanded, your grip on his hands tightening. “What did this Jisung do to you?”

The mere mention of his name had the man hissing. “The bastard crossed me,” he guttered, and you felt his rage pour off of him. “And I’m not going to let him get away with it.”

You watched him helplessly, clinging onto his hands. “Hyunjin, please,” you pleaded. “Please, let me help you.”

As you watched his stare peer into you, you witnessed the chaos behind his eyes, a civil war raging within him whether to trust you or not. You prayed to the heavens that this man, this reckless, insufferable, heartwarming man, would let you in.

He opened his mouth. 

“I’m sorry, ____.”

Letting go of your hands, he took the reins of his horse. “It’s too dangerous.” he then murmured to himself, and although it was quiet, you heard the words well enough.

“God forbid if I let you get hurt.”

He then stepped passed you, already walking ahead, leaving you to catch up to his agitated stride. 

Of course you were angry. How could you not be? you asked yourself as you followed him, refusing to stroll beside him. You two have been travelling together for nearly a week, yet he still does not trust you enough to tell you of his troubles. Disappointment washed over you more, for ever thinking he would give you a chance. 

You knew that if you were in his position, you would tell him everything.

After a few twists and turns of the street, you were met with a network of ports, a whole civilisation mingling upon wooden stilts. Boats of all shoes and sizes docked along the wooden lines, and you saw with mild surprise that barrels of fireworks were filled to brim on each deck. 

“Around the evening, this place will clear away, and all the little boats will enter, offering places to see the fireworks.” Hyunjin glanced at you, but you refused to meet his eyes. “Find yourself a boat, and have him row you beyond the kingdom.”

Nodding, you began to descend on the steps, until your wrist was caught by his hand. “____.”

Still, you looked ahead.“What?”

“I’m sorry.” A pause. “You know I’d let you come if circumstances were different.”

Silence was his answer, to his immense dismay. He let go of your hand, and instead had you gripping your horse’s reins. “Take care of Kkami while I’m gone.”

Holding on, you looked back, and made sure he drank in the solemnity of your gaze. “Don’t you dare die on me.”

A little laugh huffed out of him; it was all he could offer, when he turned, and strode into the crowds of Corona. 

God. It physically hurt seeing him leave.

Kkami neighed softly. “I know,” you only said, already wishing dusk would arrive. 

At least the fireworks were still happening. Something you’ve been wanting to see for years is right before you now.

So with that small consolation, you sat down on the stone steps, watching the port’s business as you stretched your feet, now adorned in a Hyunjin’s birthday present, and waited for time to pass. Sometimes, when your mind drifted to that certain man, you would run a shaking finger over the white rose embedded in your hair. 

This was harder than you thought.

The sun began to descend some more, the blue sky morphing into more oranges, reds and pinks. The atmosphere was hushed now, chatter still here and there, but almost awaiting for something. The larger ships had set sail long before, and, just as Hyunjin had said, smaller boats populated the docks, devoid of the fireworks. 

Curiosity peaking at your mind, you heaved up to your feet, dusting the back of your dress, and, tugging Kkami, decided to go upon the wooden wharf, taking the longer route without the stairs. 

The horse, seeing the water, began to stomp its hooves, but you reassured him, stroking its long face as you led him along the dock, careful of the sailors. 

You reached near the end of the dock, and noticed a small boat anchored at the very edge, fireworks stored all around it. There was a small man settled inside the boat, tying up stray objects with rope, whistling sweetly away. You tried to take a step forward, but Kkami neighed loudly, frightened to get closer to the bed of water. 

“Kkami!” you seethed, trying to calm the creature down, but it only made more noise, stirring the people around you. Sending them apologetic looks, you took out a carrot, seducing the animal with it until it settled, munching on the vegetable.

“Careful with that fine horse of yours, Miss!” 

Startled, you turned around, and saw the same man you were looking at now staring back at you. He had a friendly, curious smile upon his face. His dark locks were swiped back with a dirtied cloth, tying at the back of his neck. His loose shirt followed the sea breeze, and as you took a step closer, his hands came into view, roughened with labour. 

Catching your expression, he chuckled to himself, a sweet little sound despite his appearance. “You should know horses don’t like the water much,” he explained, continuing with his work. 

“Ah, sorry,” you said, slightly embarrassed. “It’s my first time taking care of a horse. It’s my friend’s, you see.” You could not help the irritation slip.

The sailor sure sensed it. “Oh, no,” he mused, a sympathetic smile on his lips. “Has this friend let you down in any way?”

Careful to tie Kkami along the railings, you walked towards him, fisting your hands. “I was going to watch the fireworks with him,” you confided. “But he just abandoned me! To go heaven knows where!”

The man scoffed, tying the fireworks. “A man, I presume?” you nodded, and he sighed, setting the bunch in his boat. “Just tell me the name, my lady, and I’ll take care of him for you.”

You huffed out a laugh at his offer, waving it off. “Oh, it’s alright. I just wish I knew where he was.”

“I’m sure he’ll come back,” the man reassured you. “As long as he has not gone anywhere near the castle walls.”

You paused as the words left his mouth. “Why?”

He turned to you, leaning back in his boat. “A lot of suspicious dealings happen there, my lady. Almost every thief in Corona sells their faux possessions along the abandoned walls of the palace. Especially today, with everyone distracted by the fireworks.”

The moment you heard this information, you felt your interest spike to the clouds. “Oh?” you sat yourself upon the docks. 

“My lady, please.” He gestures to a free seat upon his boat. “I cannot have you sitting on this dirty wood.”

He held out a hand, and you took it, taking a mindful step onto the boat, and, making sure you weren’t going to fall into the waters, stepped inside, hull shaking as you settled down before the man. He let go, and put that hand on his chest. “I’m Changbin, by the way,” he introduced. “I need to prepare for the fireworks but I’m only just behind.” He then regarded your hair, wonderment in his gaze. “How long is your hair?”

“The name’s ____, and longer than you think,” you replied, bringing the massive braid in front of you, stroking the flowers. “You said there were thieves in the Kingdom?”

Changbin looked at you incredulously. “____, there are crooks everywhere around here.” his incredulity then turned a little timid. “I must confess, I was one myself.” he then sat up. “Not anymore, though! I swore never to degrade myself like that ever again.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” you consoled him. “I assume it would have been entertaining.”

“I guess so.” He relaxed once more, watching the lazy waves lap over each other. “Though I had never done anything too fantastical.” He pondered some more. “Actually, there was one adventure I partook in. Hellish, but incredibly delightful.”

The sailor then exhaled deeply. “Maybe that’s because I was on a job with Hyunjin.”

You were about to ask more when you stilled.

Hyunjin.

“Did…” you knitted your brows, not sure you heard him properly. “Did you say Hyunjin?” You leaned in, now fully focused. “You know him?”

Changbin stared at you for a few seconds before he burst into laughter. “Who doesn’t know of Hwang Hyunjin?

“The most famous thief of the Kingdom.”

Your mouth dropped. 

“Hyunjin? A thief?”

“Why, the greatest one out there!” He chuckled some more. “I was very lucky to go on an exploit with him, but he usually stole treasure alone.”

He then corrected himself. “No, in fact, there was someone else he always committed his plundering with. Damn it, I can’t remember the name…”

Your assistance was barely a whisper. “Jisung?”

“Ah, yes!” he exclaimed. “Those two were joined at the hip. Though, mind you, ____, I spied the man wandering around the streets alone.”

“You did?” 

A nod was your answer. “He had this big bag with him, and from my previous adventures with them I knew it was Hyunjin’s.” Changbin drummed a finger upon his chin, lower lip sliding over the top. “Something suspicious is amiss.”

With the way your eyes widened, everything coming to you in an instant, you knew. 

Something horrific will go down. 

Jisung’s apparent betrayal, from the conversation at the tavern. Hyunjin saying it was too dangerous to disclose wherever he was going to go. Changbin revealing a huge trade off occurring around the castle walls, including the big thieves of Corona. 

It all made sense. 

You suddenly shot up, yelping as you nearly fell off the boat. “Careful!” the man warned, but acting with caution was the least of your concerns when you now knew where that long-haired bastard was.

“Changbin, I have to go to the palace walls,” you said, hopping quickly off the shaking boat. 

The sailor, steadying it, stepped onto the docks, too, puzzled over your sudden change. “Good God, why do you want to go tonight?”

He then looked into your eyes. Saw the desperation, the realisation that hit you not moments before.

“Oh dear God!”

Walking to you, he planted a hand upon his forehead.”Hwang Hyunjin’s the friend?” 

“Changbin,” you began, looking back on the streets. “He’s in deep trouble. He’s gone near the castle walls to confront Jisung and I’m so scared something’s going to happen.”

Looking ahead, the sailor bit the inside of his cheek, weighing in his options. He glanced at his boat, and the fireworks, needing to be transported near the palace. “We need to be quick, _____.” 

Bringing out a dagger, glinting in the new moonlight, he asked, “Do you have a weapon with you?”

You searched through the bags strapped upon Kkami, and whipped out your frying pan. “Got it.”

Changbin raised his brows, but decided against commenting on your choice. “Keep the horse here, then. We need to be as quiet as possible when we arrive at the wall.”

He then stepped past you, leading you up the steps and back into the crowd, making sure you’re close behind. The two of you made little noise as you left the populated streets, diving into private neighbourhoods, avoiding questionable groups who stared at you, and only averted their gaze when Changbin flashed his dagger in the moonlight.

As the palace came closer in view, you felt your nerves return. Not even for yourself, you realised, as you turned another corner, walking silently along the muddied footpaths. More for the long-haired thief who may or not be in extreme danger. 

You prayed to the heavens he was okay. Because if something happened to him, you really did not know what you would do. Did not even want to comprehend the turnout of events if things turned sour.

“____.” 

You perked up at the mention, realising that you had reached the start of the palace barricade. The walls towered over the two of you, fencing you from the inside of the royal lands. Changbin looked at your right, and sure enough, at the far end, from the houses clustered together in a close, a group of men were gathered. The sailor beside you crept closer, back against the house walls, and you journeyed nearer, the former quickly switching to another residence, taking you with him. Beyond the building, you both studied the group closer. Before you, with his back to you, was a slender figured man, his black longcoat blowing in the night breeze. Although you could not see his face, you heard his uncontrollable cackling, taking a step closer to the group, holding onto a certain fugitive.

You nearly let out a scream. There he was, your esteemed Ponyboy, struggling to free from the thieves’ hold as he raged against the man before you. His semi-ponytail was left down, stray locks tumbling over his face, and his boots dug into the cobblestone.

“Look at you,” this man cooed, leaning into your companion. “All angry and ready to slit my throat.” 

“You took what was mine!” Hyunjin roared. He was met with another round of heartless laughter, and you realised that this man was no doubt the notorious Jisung. 

“We need a distraction,” Changbin said, looking around the dimmed area. “Otherwise…”

He did not need to say more. 

“I took what was needed to send a signal,” Jisung clarified, studying something in his hands. However, you could not see. “That I have no desire to share my treasures with you.”

“You bastard!” the captive growled, but was shoved down by Jisung’s men once more. “I did all the work! I put my life on the line and you know that!”

“A shame that life wasn’t taken,” was his cool answer. “Now I’m going to have to take it myself.”

You and Changbin exchanged fearful glances. You needed to act. Now.

Just as the sailor was about to step into the scene, loud music began to play.

Sounding from nearby, it not only stopped you, but the thieves in front of you. It was a sweet harmonising with a flute and a fiddle, and, puzzled, you saw the same expression on Hyunjin’s capturers. 

Then, you heard the voice which led the music.

“Who has the right mind to be singing in a neighbourhood like this?” Changbin whispered furiously, but you only answered his question with a knowing smile.

It was the same, mellow call which you drank to at the tavern. And when another voice joined in, you nearly laughed, already remembering the fond memories.

Mr. Chan and Seungmin arrived just in time.

Jisung turned his head to the direction of the music, and you saw the side of his face, doe eyes marred in irritation, thin lips pursed. “Who the fuck is belting out a song at this hour?” He looked to the four men, pointing to two. “You both! Go check the drunkards and shut them up.”

Obeying the command, the rest still kept an iron grip on Hyunjin, who, you could tell with a broken heart, was losing his strength. The fury, however, was still there, daggering his former partner in crime. 

“Now, tell me, Hyunjin,” Jisung mused, wrenching the man’s face forward with a hand, clasping his cheeks. “How did you manage to heal yourself so quickly?” His gaze dipped, to the dried blood stains on his turquoise vest. “I was sure you’d die off from the stab wound.”

“Well, you were wrong, weren’t you?”

Jisung, scoffing, dug his nails in his cheeks, causing Hyunjin to release a pained exhale. “I can see that, you little prick. Now I know it was deep enough to take weeks to heal.”

He leaned in, tilting his head in curiosity. “How did you manage to fix yourself up like that? Where did you find such a miracle?”

Your companion was about to snarl out a retort when his eyes darted beyond Jisung, into the dark. He caught the sight of a white rose.

His eyes, then, caught sight of you. 

Of you, hiding in the shade.

His mouth stayed parted. 

You pressed a finger to your lips, taking a careful step out of the dark.

“Oi! Hyunjin!” Jisung forced him to look at him again, anger simmering. “What was the miracle?!”

Your long-haired thief watched his once best friend, a still peace harbouring his face. With one last glance towards you, he smirked, sliding his gaze back.

“It was no miracle, Jisung,” he rasped out.

“It was witchcraft.” 

Just then, when you were about to swing your frying pan down on Hyunjin’s nemesis, a deafening sound erupted from the earth.

Blinding lights shot into the sky. Exploded into millions more, blazing into different directions. More coloured brilliance followed, illuminating the night.

You felt your soul at a standstill.

“The fireworks!”

Hyunjin, watching everyone distracted, took the golden opportunity and raised his fists to the men’s chins, causing them to yelp in pain. They released his hold on him, and the man wrenched free, already on one of Jisung’s lackey’s. 

The leader took note of the commotion, widening his eyes. “For God’s sake, it’s two against one!”

Soon, it was two against two as Changbin raised his knife, charging towards the other man. He landed a damaging hit on his shoulder, and the chase began in taking them down. 

His back still to you, you raised the pan, watching him about to charge towards Hyunjin.

You were ready to swing it on his head when the second round of fireworks started.

Looking back, completely off guard, this time they were more victorious, like beacons bursting in the cloudless sky. It was a shame the castle blocked the main view of their ascent, only seeing wisps of the blaze.

However, remembering you have a man to knock out, you turned to see the very nemesis.

Jisung, although not very large in build, had a calculating, cunning face which chilled you to the bone. Even your arms felt numb holding the pan, when his stare penetrated through your every layer. 

“Oh my,” he murmured, taking a slow step towards you. Reflexively, you took one back, weapon still out. “And who might you be?”

“Hyunjin’s miracle,” you spat, and you dared to take a full swing of the pan.

To your absolute horror, Jisung instantly dodged, ducking and then grabbing the handle from you. He waved it in the air, grinning like a demon in your scary stories. 

“Look at you,” he purred, continuing his tempered pace towards you. Fear curled in your stomach, hands slack at your sides, feet backing away. “Trying to fight me with a kitchen utensil.”

He chuckled darkly. “It’s almost adorable.”

You did not realise how long you were retreating for till your back hit the murky, palace walls. When you caught the predatory gleam in Jisung’s eyes, your breathing nearly ceased to work. 

“You really thought you’d save your little thief,” he crowed, daring another step, creeping closer, too close for your liking. He threw the pan behind him, skidding along the cobblestone. “With what? A sailor and a frying pan?”

When he was only a mere few inches from you, he regarded your braided hair, the flowers which littered among each strand. You froze up completely when his fingers reached out, tucking in a stray curl behind the beloved rose. 

“Or perhaps it was your infinite locks that healed him.”

You could not suppress the shiver that escaped you, and he, noticing, snickered, planting the hand beside your head. “Where is your salvaged thief now?” he whispered. 

The fireworks erupted behind you still, and you closed your eyes, not able to take in what was to happen next. Hyunjin was right. You should never have come here. 

But you would have done it again without hesitation. Ponyboy was in trouble, and hopefully he took this opportunity and ran away from this scene. 

You would fight a thousand Jisungs to save him, over and over again. 

Jisung was about to take the next step, do something unnamable.

Till you heard the loudest PANG!

Instantly, you opened your eyes, and found the wicked man being thrown to the side, thudding on the dirty cobblestone. From the sound of the pang! You knew that this man was unconscious. He ceased to even move.

You whipped your head to whoever knocked Jisung out straight.

And let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding in.

Hwang Hyunjin stood before you, heaving as he held up your frying pan. His eyes, dilated, were rooted to you, and his mouth was parted, mist escaping his lips and joining the cool night air.

Silence fell upon the close, with Changbin finished dealing with the last of men, and the two of you just stared and stared at each other till you let out a ragged sigh.

“You can never insult my frying pan again.”

You waited for him to laugh, or even scoff at your ridiculous statement after experiencing a life-threatening situation.

The man did not even smile.

Only dumped the pan upon the ground before he was on you in seconds.

His hand clasped onto your wrist, and pulled you towards him. You stumbled into his chest, and when he wrapped his arms around you, you found yourself being nearly crushed with his hug.

He nestled his head into your neck, his locks falling to your shoulder, free of the ribbon which tied them. “This is why,” he muttered upon your skin, “I did not want you following me.”

You rested your cheek against his chest, returning his embrace. “If you get to save me, I get to save you too.”

There was a heavy pause. “You missed the fireworks because of me,” he whispered, and hearing the guilt in his voice nearly undid you. “I don’t even know how to compensate for something you’ve waited so long to see.”

Although there was that downside, something within you wasn’t as devastated at the thought as you’d expected to be. “There’s always next year, Ponyboy,” you reassured him. You then smiled deviously. “Or should I say thief?”

Hyunjin pulled away slightly, holding you still as he blushed scarlet with embarrassment. “I suppose you know I’m no adventurer.”

You caught the slight fear in his eyes, and your heart broke. He really thought you’d be wary of him now that you knew of his true identity.

Squeezing his shoulders, you offered him mischief through your smile. “Being a witch isn’t so far off from being a thief.”

A little laugh spluttered from him, but he quickly reigned in his amusement, looking at you once again. “You know, I never really wanted to do this,” he confessed. “As a child, I always had to look out for myself, and stealing was the only way to escape poverty.”

His hands tightened on you. “I really want to get out of this mess. In fact, I was going to let Jisung get away with everything, but he took something very precious of mine.”

He turned to his satchel, the one his nemesis was said to have pinched, and went through the inside until he brought out the most stunning necklace, the diamonds glistening as gold swirls curled along its edges, the golden chain studded with more of that jewel all around. 

“Hyunjin,” you breathed out, observing the jewellery. “It’s beautiful.”

The man hummed in agreement. “It was my mother’s,” he said, admiring the necklace. “It is the one of the few things which is truly mine.”

His soft voice hardened. “Jisung stealing it was the last straw for me.”

You upheld his gaze. “I would have done the same.”

He did not say anything for a bit, just regarding you under the moonlight. Well, in his eyes, it was more admiration, awe-stricken marvelling. 

You, in his eyes, were a little too stunning under this night. 

The thief was to say offer something when he heard more voices. 

Freezing, he turned around, only to find more men joining Changbin. The men who contributed in saving him.

After staring at you a moment longer, he let go of you. “Let’s join the others.”

You nodded, not missing his hand on the small of your back as he led you to his friends. Chan, Seungmin and Minho were all talking amongst themselves, despite the unconscious bodies around them. They all noticed you both walking towards them, and instantly they all smiled at your arrival.

“____!” Chan exclaimed, raising his wooden fiddle in excitement. 

“We missed you so much at the inn!” Seungmin added, holding his silver flute.

“I nearly died ten minutes ago, prick,” Hyunjin guttered, but was only responded with more laughter. 

Minho, raking a hand through his fire-kissed hair, clicked his tongue at you, dipping his eyes. “Not even a day and you’ve muddied the shoes,” he drawled, earning a stuck out tongue from you.

“When did you arrive?” you asked him. “I only heard Chan and Seungmin’s singing.”

“I was handling more men further ahead.” he then rolled his eyes. “Felix and Jeongin were supposed to help me but the little one’s stomach started to hurt. Apparently he ate too many doughnuts in the afternoon.”

Hyunjin glanced at you, eyebrows raised, and you scoffed. “Excuse me! You were taking your time! Not my fault Jeongin and I got hungry.”

“You did not get to see the fireworks, then,” Seungmin stated. You shook your head, hugging yourself a little tighter. 

“What a shame,” Chan said, sadness in his usual cheerful tone. “I remember you talking about the event so fondly.”

Changbin, who was quiet throughout, then spoke up. “Actually,” he started, looking at you. “I think I can fix that.”

You and all the men turned to him, baffled. He only said, “Minho, bring Felix and Jeongin to the docks in fifteen minutes. Bring some good snacks with you.”

“What have you got in mind, Bin?” Hyunjin asked, furrowing his brows, but Changbin only stepped past the group, whistling.

“Follow me, friends!” he declared, sheathing his dagger. Everyone, still confused, decided to follow, save for Minho, who turned to another avenue to fetch the absent two.

You and Hyunjin walked side by side, hands skimming against each other as the men in front of you led you out of the network of residences, until you were away from the palace walls, and any more danger.

Soon, you found yourself descending the same steps where the thief had left you to face Jisung. The people had dispersed, as the fireworks had ended, yet when Changbin turned the corner, to the far end of the harbour, his little, firework-filled boat still floating upon the sea. Kkami was present too, waiting patiently for his owner to return, and when Hyunjin saw him he sighed in relief, hurrying towards him.

The horse neighed eagerly as the man stroked his mane. Changbin stepped past him, carefully getting on the boat, searching for some flint and steel.

It was then you realised. 

“We’re getting our very own fireworks show!”

The sailor grinned at your enthusiasm. “We can’t let a lady be disappointed.”

Chan tapped on his fiddle. “Seungmin and I can play the music!” he declared, wrapping an arm around his friend.

You clasped your hands together. “Oh, I’d love to dance!”

“Let me join in!”

Stunned, you whirled around, and found Jeongin running up to you, beaming from ear to ear as Felix and Minho followed behind, holding food. You returned his smile, calling, “Jeongin! Feeling better now?”

Blushing, he scratched the back of his neck, raven waves curling under his ears. “Ah, I really wished I could have helped at the palace walls, but my stomach chickened out on me.”

Felix tutted as he set the food along the benches. “I told you to stop eating, but you do not listen!”

“He goes after all of us here, then,” Minho commented.

“Can someone help me with the lighting?” Changbin asked, and the men flocked to assist him.

Only Hyunjin stood rooted as he tied his messy locks back, staring at you with an indecipherable emotion.

It did not go unnoticed. “What’s wrong?” 

You could tell he was thinking. Pondering hard over what he wanted to do next. 

He then brought his hands upon your shoulders, turning your back to him. “Hyunjin?” you got out, surprised, but he said nothing as you heard him fishing something out of his satchel.

You were about to turn around and scold him when you felt cold metal upon your neck. 

Looking down, a small gasp escaped you when you found his mother’s necklace settled on your skin, tinkling as the man clipped the lock under your head of hair. When he was done, he spun you around, assessing the added accessory upon you. 

He smiled lovingly at the sight.

“Hyunjin, I-” you started, trying to untie the necklace. “I-I can’t take this from you.”

Pausing your efforts, he held onto your hands. “Yes you can. I want you to have this.” you tried to argue some more, but he raised his brows. “No! I don’t want to hear more.”

Your eyes swirled with something akin to affection. “Hyunjin.”

His lips curved upwards. “You know, ____, I always call you a witch but…” he let out a shuddered breath, fingers playing with a stray curl. “But you certainly never looked like one.”

Your heart, damn the thing, fluttered at the statement. You only held onto the lapels of his vest, wishing that all these people would fade away, if only for a moment. 

The long-haired thief leaned in a little, tugging you closer, and perhaps he would have closed the distance were it not for Changbin letting out a victorious screech. 

“It’s happening, everyone!” 

He quickly jumped off the boat, others following as the spark was lightened. Everyone took a few steps back, watching the spark fuse closer to the fireworks, Hyunjin holding onto you still.

Chan bumped his elbow against Seungmin, firing up his instrument. “Let us liven up, everyone!”

Seungmin brought the mouth of the flute to his lips, and instantly, music began to fill the docks. 

“When will the fireworks start?” Minho demanded, tapping his foot, but when Felix shushed everyone, they all watched as the fuse hit the heart of the firecrackers.

The first thing that welcomed you all was a very loud BANG!

Everyone jumped at the sheer light which flashed before your eyes, shooting for the stars as it burst into the sky, scattering bright brilliance upon the sea. More and more fireworks joined in on this fire-like race, exploding everywhere in the air, igniting gasps of wonder from the crowd.

You were the most awed in the entire group. Ever since you were young, you had admired this show from miles away, but now, when it was a few metres from you, it filled with you with the same light that it spluttered down on you. Although it was not the official fireworks which you wished to see originally, this alternative was just as extraordinary - more so, as it was done just for you.

The fireworks were then accompanied with music, being fired up once more by the innkeepers, and instantly everyone began to dance along the merry beat, singing along to Seungmin’s and Jeongin’s honey voice. 

You joined in on this fun, making sure to swing along to the music with everyone, joining arms with Jeongin and then moving to Minho, changing to Changbin and then frolicking with Felix, you even sang with Seungmin, chuckling with Chan as you try to steal his fiddle, and you twirled and twirled in the middle, dress and plait trailing after you.

Hyunjin, sat upon the benches, clapped to the merriment, his smile lingering whenever a breathless laugh escaped you as you danced with all his friends. When you caught sight of him settled alone, you ran to him, ushering him to join in. he refused at first, hurryingly saying he hated to dance, but you grabbed onto his hands and wrenched him off the bench, a yelp fleeing his lips as he was dragged into the center.

Hands still clasped, you led them about your waist, not missing the blush staining his cheeks as you planted your hands on his shoulders, moving him along to the music.

“Oh, my, Ponyboy,” you drawled as you felt yourself being led by hands. “You are a good dancer.”

“I never said I was bad at it,” he mused, twirling you around. You tried to fight your smirk, both pairs of eyes joining in their twinkling.

Yours began to glisten even more when you dared to say, “You know, Ponyboy,” you started, voice dripped with mischief. 

He watched you, lips twitching. “Yes?”

“When the fireworks occur…” you lock your hands behind his neck. “You’re supposed to kiss the person you’re dancing with.”

The way Hyunjin's eyes widened at the implication had your stomach in disarray. The surprise quickly darkened when he leaned in, cocking his head. “Oh, really?” his little chuckle was felt on your lips. “It is too bad you’re a witch, then.”

Returning his laughter, you dared raise your fingers to his ribbon, untying the strip and letting his luscious curls fall at his shoulders. “What a blessing for you,” you said, “That this witch does not follow the rules.”

The man’s smile was unforgettable. “Neither does this thief.”

That was all he said, before closing the distance between you two.

The moment his lips touched yours, it was like another round of fireworks had erupted. This time, these fireworks were within you and the man before you, moving plush lips against you and bringing you the finest form of sweetness you had ever tasted. You melted under him, he pulling you right against his chest, unable to accept any distance between the both of you. 

A soft noise left you as he pulled away from you, mouth parted, glistening like the diamonds adorning you. Around you, cheers broke out from the boys, whooping at the kiss you and Hyunjin shared. Although your cheeks burned, you giggled at their reaction, staying close with the thief.

The dancing only continued, as the fireworks still illuminated the docks. You turned to Hyunjin once again, whose hands encircled your waist still. 

As you moved slowly along to the music, the man dipped his face, settling his forehead against yours. His erratic breathing mixed with yours. “I am...so happy to have met you, witch,” he whispered to you. 

Your heart, if it was not already in the clouds, now elevated to seventh heaven. “You’re not so terrible yourself, thief.”

It was his answering smile which had him pulling you closer again, finding paradise in your arms as you and your friends danced the night away under the fireworks.

[aliensunflower-fics]

In Defense of Salt AND Sugar: Aka ML Fandom pls chill out.

So I don’t talk much as those who follow me will say I tend to just stick to myself and my own things. HOWEVER, Ive gotten a lot of asks about why I write both Salt and Sugar for Miraculous Ladybug.

The short answer: Both salt and sugar are valid, fun, intriguing things to read and write and the point of writing is to entertain and be entertained.

The long answer: Salt isn’t inherently someone hating on your fav show and sugar isn't someone necessarily giving it a free pass either. Ya’ll are just dramatic as hell.

The LONGER answer:

I write salt because I LIKE Miraculous Ladybug, BUT the show has not lived up to its potential AT ALL. The show could be so much better and the characters are so flawed or full of holes that occasionally I feel FRUSTRATED and mad!

I hate that Alya a character who I was so excited about, gets shafted ignored, sidelined, or written like a jerk! She could have been this great detective working alongside her friend to unmask the villain, but instead she often comes across as pushy, obsessed with Ladynoir or Adrinette, and so damn easily tricked. Not to mention how when shes not gushing over her ‘ships’ shes pushed to the side and ignored. [or you know... LILA]

I hate that Marinette’s crush makes her do things that are so cringy and awkward i feel ill I hate that she’s constantly the only one making mistakes and ‘learning lessons’ when the show has all these other great characters that could use the spotlight and be the ones learning lessons. I hate that she’s so jealous and that she cant ever seem to catch a break as if the show is punishing her constantly.

I HATE that Adrien is a mary sue, how the writers say hes perfect and treat him as such, I hate that he gets to guilt Marinette into fixing everything and dealing with bullies, I wanted a funny, Ron Stoppable, naive boy who learns about real friendships and grows into a great partner. Instead he gets to be pushy and downright a jerk as Chat Noir ignoring his responsibilities, guilting Ladybug with his feelings, never taking no as an answer. He’s not a good role model for kids.

I hate that Chloe got built up to have a redemption arc several times only for the writers to decide that Chloe a teenage girl who needs some serious therapy [and actual reasonable punishment for her actions] is worse than Gabriel child abuse Agreste. She could have been a great lesson on compassion and growth and dealing with your own pain without hurting others. Instead the writers wrote her off completely.

And dont get me started on how the show treats Nino, Kagami, Luka and the rest of the cast. They may as well be a backdrop for the forced love square that we NEVER get a break from. Seriously I’m a sucker for romance but does it need to be EVERY damn episode?! Can’t we just get some wholesome friendship between everyone including Adrien and Marinette at this point like COME ON.

And i’m not even touching on the white washing, awful lessons on responsibility and forgiveness, awful lessons on well so much other stuff really, the guilt trips, the teacher, the fact that she show could be used to teach kids how to better handle negative emotions and the importance of open communication and not keeping quiet about injustice and/or your feelings but instead decided that the main priority should be a love square that gets force fed to us EVERY SINGLE EPISODE.

My point is the show has FLAWS. That doesn’t mean its the worse show ever and it doesn’t mean its not fun, and has a great premise and characters, and so when I write Salt I write it because i’m frustrated! Im frustrated with the show, with the characters, with the writing and so I vent that out with salt I write those characters as their worst selves because I cant stand how the show has decided to treat them and Im ANGRY and disappointed.

It feels good to write salt and to read it. It’s nice to see characters get called out for bad behavior, its nice to read about Adrien not getting the girl. Its nice to occasionally indulge in salt because it validates that the show is flawed and lets you get out that frustration.

BUT ON THE FLIP SIDE

Miraculous Ladybug is a lovely show. It’s a show that decided to give little girls a FEMALE HERO. And not just as a side kick or background character! No they made her the protagonist! Its so important to me that little girls see good well rounded female characters in media.

And even if the show is clumsy about it they are TRYING to build an expansive lore that tickles the theorist brain. And gets people invested in the world.

The show also made Marinette shy, and awkward, and clumsy something a lot of girls deal with during puberty as growing up can literally make you clumsier as your body adjusts. Having a character who tries to be positive and tries to find solutions who solves things with creativity instead of pure violence. Thats LOVELY for young girls to see.

Growing up I loved and admired Kim Possible, and probably would have loved Marinette, even if the shows not perfect I can admit its trying and I can see why people love it as much as they do! And why they write these fluffy sugary fics its the reason I WRITE fluffy sugary things.

Because even though I am frustrated and angry and disappointed with the show, I still see Alya’s potential and how great she is as representation to little girls who want a black female superhero so I write fluff where Alya’s loyalty, compassion, cleverness and her pursuit of justice are center stage.

I see how Adrien could be better and I want him to be better and I WANT him to be the naive funny comic relief the Ron Stoppable to Marinette’s Kim Possible. I want Adrien to grow and learn and spit in his dad’s face I want him to overcome the abuse and be happy. To show people that neglect and abuse doesn’t mean you will get stuck like that forever, that you can overcome that and be a better kinder person.

I want Nino and Kagami, and Luka and Chloe and the class to grow and get attention and have funny moments I want to laugh and make other people laugh! So I write prompts focused around comedy and shenanigans and where the characters get to be fun and silly and make decisions for themselves!

SO IN CONCLUSION:

I write salt AND sugar. I see the value and merit in both sides of the coin, and I respect how other people see the show. I know its easy to get angry with other people in the fandom who see the show differently then you do but please can we put down the weapons and just BREATHE.

Someone who writes salt might LOVE the same show as you, and they might in fact love it so much that they vent their frustrations in angst and salt and cracky fics. Let them vent about how they wish the show was better, leave their tags alone or block them if you cant stand to see it. But dont attack salt writers for ‘hating on your show’ when they might love it just as much as you do but want a way to vent out their feelings.

On the flip someone who writes sugar might NOT be forgiving the show for its flaws, they might see all the same flaws as you but decide to take that frustration and write fluff and fix it fics and sugar because they want to indulge in a version of their favorite show where everything is just... OK. Where everyone is well written and happy and the character development sticks. Stay out of their tags let them have their sugar, they aren't writing it to hurt you just like you don't write salt to hurt them.

So ENOUGH. Enough hunting each other down, enough sending each other hate, enough filling each others tags. Let people write SALT if they feel angry and vengeful and disappointment, let them have their tags, let them explore the dark side of the characters, let them rant and rave and be HURT when the characters they love upset them with their actions. Its not your place to tell them to stop, to tell them their feelings are invalid, to tell them that ‘adrien is sweet sunshine boy how dare you’ or ‘alya would never’ or ‘i hate your marinette leaves dupont au’. Just leave it be, heed the tags, and let it go.

AND ENOUGH. Enough hunting each other down, enough sending each other hate, enough filling each other tags. Let people write SUGAR if they just want something to feel happy about. Let them makes coffee shop au’s, let them make fix it fics where everything is just happy without needing 8 pages of backstory for why everything is just happy. Let them squeal and gush and talk about the ship they like and the fluff they see. Its not your place to argue with them that the show is flawed, its not cool to ruin their fun by accusing them of not understanding the flaws, to tell them ‘umm actual this character shouldn’t get to be happy’ or ‘wow this is so shallow’. Just leave it be, heed the tags, and let it go.

PS: Now with that said and done. I do have one final message for everyone - If you write/enjoy pedophilia, if you sexualize KIDS. Then get the fuck out of fandom spaces, stop fucking following me, and do everyone salt and sugar a favor by LEAVING. Your pedophilia and child sexualization aint wanted, aint ok, and I will fight you.

PSS: IF YOU HATE WHAT IVE SAID ABOUT SUGAR AND SALT FINE OK I RESPECT YOU REGARDLESS. ENJOY THE SHOW, STAY CLASSY, DONT HURT PEOPLE BECAUSE THEY HAVE A DIFFERENT OPINION.

[sayuricorner]

Miraculous Ladybug salt x Jojo’s bizarre adventure: “Biodad!Jonathan Joestar” AU

Headcanons part 1

Warning: English is not my first language so sorry if it’s confusing.

Warning 2: This AU content salt don’t like don’t read!

Warning 3: For the Jojo character’s palettes colors I use the anime palette colors as reference.

If you want to use this AU you can! just credite and tag me in return please! :)

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

So, in many ML biodad AUs Marinette’s bio dad is most of the time someone like Bruce Wayne or Tony Stark, but how about:

                                 Biodad! Jonathan Joestar AU

I mean when you think about it both Marinette and Jonathan are alike in looks and personnality!

Appearance:

-Both got blue hair

-Both got light blue eyes

Personnality:

-Both are kind souls

-Both are selfless and think about others before themself most of the time

-Both got a strong sense of justice

-Both are very smart

-Both are combative when needed

-Both don’t hesitate to put themself in danger to protect others

-Both can over-react when they’re carried away by their emotions

And just imagine the story possibilities with this AU!

“But Sayuri! Jonathan Joestar is from the Victorian aera and Marinette is born in the french modern aera how Jonathan would be Marinette’s bio dad in this AU?”

Well the same way which make Giorno, Donatello, Ungalo and Rikiel Jonathan’s kids:

Yep! In this AU Marinette is another child born from Dio’s one night stands!

Now I know that make Marinette Dio’s daughter too and I know Giorno, Donatello, Ungalo and Rikiel are mostly know as Dio’s children but to be honest I consider them more as Jonathan’s kids than as Dio’s because honnestly outside of the head the rest of the body is Jonathan’s.

How Marinette’s conception happen then? Well here’s how:

Years before Marinette’s birth, a young adult Sabine Cheng was on a trip in Egypt, she meet Dio in a bar one night, he seduced her and they got a one night stand, with Dio having the intention to suck Sabine’s blood after, but at one Dio got a brutal crisis.

Normally anyone would get afraid and run away but instead Sabine, being the kind person she was, had done all she can to calm down Dio with all the tenderness she can give. And without being aware of it this actually saved her life.

After helping Dio to calm down both fall asleep, Dio woke up later in night while Sabine was still asleep.

Remembering the warm and familiar kind feeling he experienced during his “episode”, a feeling he didn’t feel for a very long time, he decided to spare Sabine under the pretext he wasn’t in the mood to suck her blood anymore before living to go back to his mansion.

In the morning Sabine wake up only to notice Dio left and never see him again after that night, she go on with her trip and when she go back to France she found out she was pregnant.

She decided to keep the baby, times later she meet and fall in love with Tom Dupain, both end up marrying to each other and Tom adopt Marinette and became legally her father.

The Dupain-Cheng couple also decided to give her a middle name “Joanne” in memory of one of Tom’s aunts with who he was close, making her full name “Marinette Joanne Dupain-Cheng”

Does that mean Marinette in this AU had the Joestar birthmark? Yep, she does! And she also got the Joestar genes when it’s come to body shape: as a kid she look like a shrimp but when she will be older she will get rather tall and will got more muscules to her peers’s surprise.

Did she had a stand in this AU? Yes!

Her stand is called [Viva la vida], a reference to the Coldplay’s song, this stand had the power to create miracles like making plants grow, healing illness and bad injures or being a big source of luck she also had a big affinity with plants and animals. But her powers had limits for example while her miracles allow her to bring back someone to life it’s only possible if the dead person isn’t dead for a too long time and make a powerfull miracle drain Marinette energy and she end up knocked out for a time.

When Marinette is Ladybug, [Viva la vida]’s miracles powers are stronger.

[Viva la vida] isn’t a stand know for her strengh but she’s very fast which allow her to make a lot of punches and kicks at the same time.

Stand’s appearance: [Viva la vida] is an humanoid stand with beetle features, her color schemes are black white and pink, she had beetle wings, big rond blue non-reflective eyes and her head is rond with two anthenas and is a head smaller than Marinette.

But if [Viva la vida] is a cute stand when Marinette is a civil, when the young girl took her Ladybug form, her stand took a more imposing and majesting appearance, she became taller, more muscular, her eyes smaller and almond shaped, her whole body get more armors features and her colors scheme change to black and red with black dots and she emit a rather intimidating aura.

Stand’s behavior: [Viva la vida] is a very expressive stand and very sentient and is a friendly and playfull stand. She’s very curious by nature and had the habit to examin in curiosity when Marinette meet new people or stands. Her being very sentient allow her to sometimes act as a conscience to Marinette.

She also love to eat cookies baked by Marinette.

When Marinette is Ladybug, [Viva la vida] is more serious and a more combative behavior.

Stand’s cry: “Mira!” a reference to “miraculous” and to the word miracle.

AU additional details:

-Class salt

-Bustier salt/bad teacher Bustier

-Adrien salt or Adrien sugar(it’s up to whoever use this AU)

-Lila salt

-Chloe redemption

-Class redemption, a part having a redemption or none of them having a redemption(you choose)

-Permanent miraculous user Luka

-Permanent miraculous user Kagami

-Stand user Luka

-Not everyone die AU/temporary death AU: if some Jojo characters like the Pillarmen, Caesar, Kakoyin, Avdol and Iggy are alive but others like Buccellatti, Abbacchio, Narancia and La Squadra are still dead but will not stay dead(You’ll see).

-Good father Jotaro

-Marinette's closed friends/loved ones calling her "Jojo" in reference to her middle name "Joanne"

-Donatello, Ungalo and Rikiel adopted by the Dupain-Cheng

-Protective siblings Donatello, Giorno, Rikiel and Ungalo

-Marinette being the baby sister of all Jonathan’s and Dio’s kids

-[Viva la vida] being a cute stand

-Marinette, Giorno, Donatello, Ungalo and Rikiel not acknowledging Dio as their dad

-Protective Joestar family

-Jonadad

-Good parents Sabine and Tom Dupain-Cheng

-Permanent miraculous users Donatello, Ungalo and Rikiel

-Badass Marinette

-Scientist Gina Dupain at Speedwagon Foundation

-Diavolo and Doppio getting differents boddies

-Akumatised Marinette with her stand being corrupted and turned into a sentimonster.(You’ll see! ;) )

-Temporary Ladybug!Giorno (You’ll see! ;) )

-Diavolo still stuck in the death loop(’cause it’s only canon if Diavolo die!)

-The Pillarmen knowing about the miraculous

-Shipping:You decide the ship you want just not Adrinette please

Arcs for this AU:

The bizarre origins arc:

This arc is about the origins of Marinette’s birth, her growing up and getting a stand, becoming Ladybug and learning to accomplish her duties as Ladybug while learning to control and use her stand and meeting others stand users.(ex: Luka)

The bizarre USA adventures arc:

Take place times after Lila’s return, the liar keep her word and little by little Marinette’s friends turned their back on her and the fights against the akumas are always very hard to not say harder especially ever since she became the guardian.

Seeing their daughter’s moral so down Sabine and Tom decide to send Marinette to Gina to the USA for summer break. After making sure to had Kaalki with her to teleport back to Paris when an akuma attack, Marinette go on a trip to the USA with her grandmother.

But what should have been a normal vacation trip will take a bizarre turn when Marinette will learn about Gina’s job at the mysterious Speedwagon Foundation which will lead to a meeting with four ancients Aztec gods of fitness, getting informations about stands and her mysterious lineage and a meeting with three american unknow brothers.

(In this AU the Pillarmen aren’t dead after Battle Tendency but they’re detained by the Speedwagon Foundation)

The bizarre mass resurection mystery arc:

A lot of things happened in Marinette’s life, things she didn’t expected whatever in good or bad.

Finding out about her grandmother’s job at the Speedwagon Foundation, learning more about her stand, finding about the existence of three brothers and having said newfound brothers being adopted by her parents, her friends isolating her thank to Lila and learning she by Bustier she and Chloe were banned from the class field trip...

So she decided with to create with other classmates from the school a trip club and after some successful fundraisers the club get a trip to Italy.

And since Hawkmoth seemed to not have attacked for a time there isn’t any problems to go on that trip.

In Italy, on Giorno’s side the part 5 events happen just like in canon while on Marinette’s side she and the trip club get a good time in Italy until a particuliary violent stand user akuma attack the country. He was akumatised by Hawkmoth ‘cause Gabriel Agreste was on a business trip in Italy and thought creating a akuma in the country would attract Ladybug and Chat Noir and give him an advantage since the akuma attack in a unfamiliar place.

The fight was very hard but in the end Marinette and her allies were able to beat the akuma and with her miraculous powers combined with her stand powers she revert any damage... it’s even worked for damage/injuries/death by stands leaving Marinette knocked out for a time since she use a lot of energy while using her stand’s miracle powers.

On Giorno’s side after he beat Diavolo and became the boss it was noticed that Buccelatti, Narancia, Abbacchio, the whole La Squadra were bring back to life.

Even Doppio was back but in a boddy of his own.

Everyone thought at first this was the work of [Gold experience requiem] but it was reveiled later this was the work of another stand which will put Giorno, his gang and even Jotaro with the SWF on a big infestigation which will lead them to the stand user resposible for this mystery and unknowly to them and to Marinette to one big bizarre family reunion.

The bizarre family arc:

With everything which happened in Italy, Marinette not only had to deal with Lila, Hawkmoth, the akumas and her guardian duties but also with the discovery of an extended families and horrible and disturbing informations about “one of her bio fathers”.

And one day Lila took things too far leading Marinette to unleash all her frustration, stress and anger making her akumatised and it will be up to Giorno as a temporary Ladybug holder, her true friends and her family to saved her from herself and from Hawkmoth’s influence.

But the task will be hard with not only Marinette being akumatised but also with her stand [Viva la vida] having being unconsciously corrupted by Mayura while trying to corrupt Marinette turning her into a sentimonster.

The bizarre final showdown arc:

A alliance between Hawkmoth and a mysterious priest will lead the miraculous villain to his ultimate plan by helping the priest to resurect a powerful man, a man infamous for being a curse to the Joestar family and to the world, with the promise to achieve Heaven and to gain a power which will allow Hawkmoth to do all he want.

It will be up to Marinette, her friends, allies and her new found family to put an end to Hawkmoth once for all and to beat this priest before the worst happen with the resurection of the infamous Dio.

But bizarre chains of events will lead to another resurection, the resurection of a man very well know by the Joestar family and who’s tightly connected to Marinette, Giorno, Donatello, Ungalo and Rikiel.

[2manyfandoms2count]

Poisson d'avril

Here, have a half-baked April Fool’s Day fic my brain decided to wake me up for. For context, one of the most popular jokes for April 1st in France is taping paper fish to each other’s backs, the more original the fish the better (my childhood is filled with trying to sneak behind teachers' backs to tape one on them; they were very chill about it, tbh). Poisson d’Avril is also what you say at the end of a joke on that day (think "sike", but festive). More about this great tradition that apparently dates back to at least 1466 here.

Hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3

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Marinette loved April Fool’s Day at Françoise Dupont. The school was always buzzing with little pranks at that time of the year, the blooming spring giving a wonderfully cheerful backdrop to the shenanigans the collégiens were up to.

These were all very light-hearted, if sometimes a little elaborate.

As usual, some students had been found early in the morning in the classrooms, thwarting their attempt to recreate the legendary horizontal fiasco of 20XX, where everything had been set up to look like the rooms had been flipped by 90°. Mr Damoclès had let them go mercifully, thankful that the students hadn’t been tempted to glue everything to the ceiling in an effort to one-up their predecessors. Somehow, he wouldn’t have put it past Kim and Alix to try and coordinate the project, as a last hurrah before heading on to lycée.

There were also seemingly well-meaning classmates offering chouquettes or donuts in the courtyard, which Marinette knew to stay well away from, knowing the former were likely sprinkled with coarse salt, and the latter filled with the likes of mayonnaise instead of jam. She’d been in their shoes a couple of years prior, building her classmates’ trust by bringing them the sweet delicacies every day for a week, and switching on April 1st as a joke.

Heading to class, she heard a lot of laughter, people telling jokes, or trying to see how far they could take a story without it being called out on it (this year, Nino had Kim panicking over a brevet exam part they supposedly had, which was a step down from the previous year, where he’d convinced him that everybody needed to come in dressed up in medieval costumes, and that he’d landed the court jester role; his friend had turned up the next day in a full outfit, complete with bells on his hat and shoes, and upon discovering the deception, had decided to make good use of them and make the joke everybody’s problem).

However much she enjoyed those kinds of pranks, though, Marinette’s favourite remained the classic poisson d’avril: taping paper fish to people’s backs. It was something anyone could take part in, as a predator or a prey, with or without premeditation. You didn’t necessarily need scissors and tape, if you managed to steal some from somebody else’s back.

Marinette liked to take it seriously. Done right, the exercise demanded stealth she’d had even as a little kid, and had honed ever since being chosen to become Ladybug, as well as creativity she had piles of. She’d stayed up the previous night, making plenty of fish varying in size and colour, some tailored to her friends, like the Rena Rouge and Carapace ones that were intended for Alya and Nino respectively. She’d of course also made the rest of the Miraculous team, as well as some other designs based on Kitty section, her classmates, or celebrities.

As always at the end of the day, Rose walked around with a whole school on her back. It wasn’t clear if she was completely oblivious to it, or if she knew what was going on but enjoyed the giddy giggles of the people who managed to add an extra fish in, or take one off.

The only person who’d managed to escape the prank so far was Adrien, and it wasn’t for lack of trying. Kim, Alix and Nino had gone to great lengths to get at least one fish on his back, even recruiting Markov to sneak behind him, but the boy seemed to have a sixth sense.

No sooner did he hear the faintest of ruffles, that his head would jerk up, eyes darting around to figure out where the sound had come from, thwarting any efforts, no matter how elaborate they’d been.

Marinette had been reluctant to target Adrien, despite having a special fish for him, complete with his stripes and an orange-tipped tail, but as the day went by and more people joined the challenge to trick him, she felt the urge to compete rise in her chest and started unwillingly tracking his every movement, trying to find a breach in his focus.

It was a fastidious process, even for someone who enjoyed watching Adrien happily live his life, but it paid off around the end of the day, just after the last bell.

Marinette noticed that Adrien’s shirt looked a little rumpled around the back as they were retrieving books from their lockers, and approached him calmly.

“Adrien?” She announced her presence when she was right behind him, surprised that he hadn’t turned around yet. He almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of her voice.

“Marinette!” He yelped, a hand flying to his heart. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you approach.” He chuckled nervously.

“No, I’m sorry I scared you!” Marinette looked down, apparently sheepish. In truth, she was cursing inwardly at the missed easy opportunity. Adrien had been at ease with her coming closer, which she assumed was because it was the end of the day and he’d started letting his guard down; she could have gone about her business and he would’ve been none the wiser. She shook her head; it didn’t matter, she’d just go on with her original plan. “It’s just that… well, it’s stupid, but the back of your shirt is a little creased, and I know how important your appearance is to your family so… Do you mind if I fix it?”

“Thanks Marinette, that’d be awesome.” He smiled at her in a way that would have made her lose her cool, had it been any other day. But she was on a mission, and there was no way she was letting the opportunity of pranking Adrien when nobody else had managed the feat go by.

“Okay, let me just…” Marinette reached into her purse and took the first piece of paper she felt, before gently taping it to Adrien’s shirt, making sure to smooth the fabric at the same time so he wouldn’t realise what she was doing.

“There, all done!” She smiled when she was satisfied the tape had adhered well enough.

He smiled back at her, but was interrupted in his thanks by Nino and Alya calling for them to hurry up.

“Today was really fun, I’m so glad I got to experience it first hand,” Adrien beamed as the group walked out of the building, Nino and Adrien a little ahead of the girls. “And I’m really proud that I survived it without getting pranked!”

Marinette bit back a laugh, eyes darting to his back.

“I wouldn’t be so confident, Sunshine,” Alya replied, untaping the fish from his back and handing it to him.

“What…” Adrien stopped in his tracks, looking at it, and particularly Marinette’s signature on the back of the piece of paper, in disbelief. He turned around with a look of mock betrayal. “I can’t believe you’d do this to me!” He pouted.

“I couldn’t just let you off the hook,” she shrugged with a small smile, making a mental note to reuse the phrase with Chat Noir when she saw him later. He’d enjoy the pun.

Adrien let out a small chuckle as he turned the fish around, but the sound died as he saw the pattern. The colour drained from his face and he froze as he took in the black and green colour scheme and the fish’s whiskers.

“Adrien? Is everything okay?” Marinette frowned, noticing his change in body language.

“Yeah, um… Can I talk to you for a second?” He looked up at her.

“What a great idea!” Alya pushed Marinette towards Adrien before hooking her arm through Nino’s and starting to go down the stairs. “We’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

Marinette thought she heard her add “Can you believe they might get together over an April Fool’s joke?”, as she waved them off absentmindedly, but her gaze met Adrien’s troubled one and she decided she’d deal with her best friend later.

“What’s up?” She asked, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks; the adrenaline from succeeding her challenge was evidently starting to wear off.

“What’s this?” Adrien asked cautiously, handing her the fish.

Marinette took it cautiously, saw the pattern, and smiled. “It’s a poisson-chat noir,” she said proudly. It was a bit of a shame she’d picked that one for Adrien, but she guessed she couldn’t have kept it for her partner anyway, given that she’d signed it. Still, she thought he would have liked the joke. Especially if it came from Ladybug.

“How did you know?” he murmured, looking at her incredulously. She tilted her head, raising her eyebrows at his cryptidness. He explicited his thoughts. “I saw the fish you gave Alya and Nino, and the one you managed to pin on Chloé; they were all references to their superhero selves. And now you get this one right as well… How did you know?”

It was Marinette’s turn to freeze and feel the colour draining from her cheeks. “I… I didn’t. I picked one randomly when I saw an opening.”

“Oh.” She saw the cogs turning in Adrien’s brain while she felt her own shut down, still processing one important piece of information.

“Adrien… Are you Chat Noir?”

“Um… Poisson d’avril?” He ventured.

“Adrien.” She repeated sternly.

“Okay, fine, you got me.” Adrien huffed, raking a hand through his hair. “Please, don’t tell Ladybug.” He pleaded.

“Too late, I’m afraid.” She dug out her poisson-Ladybug and taped it to herself. She saw Adrien’s eyes grow as wide as his smile before being engulfed in a hug and feeling his lips on her forehead. “Kwami, we really might get together over an April Fool’s joke,” she muttered against his chest. If the heat she felt at the tip of her ears said anything, she probably was as red as Ladybug’s costume, and it probably wouldn’t go unnoticed.

“What was that?” Adrien pulled out a little from their hug to look at her.

“Nothing.” She smiled, and took his hand. “Now come on Chaton, we have some things to discuss, and we should probably go somewhere more private.”

“You know I’d follow you anywhere, my Lady.” He picked their entwined hands and kissed hers.

Really, she thought as they made their way towards her parents’ boulangerie, she loved poissons d’avril.

[illyrian-lover-flower]

Crow of hope

Hey @duneska​ I want to wish you a Happy and full of delight filled Birthday, you truly deserve it 😊.

You have become a wonderful friend over the little time I knew you and you just brightened up my whole day with even the littlest message. The conversations we had were always so bright and funny to me, and I just bonded with you over similarities I always believed no one would get.

But I am so glad I was wrong and I was able to form this friendship with you, you were after all one of the persons who brightened up my tumblr experience the most. 

And like I said, you brightened up my day with even the littlest message.

I hope I could also brighten your day a bit and wish you a lot of fun with this piece I’ve written.

It might not be your taste as it is rather angsty at the beginning, but I’ll promise there is a lot of fluff making up for it. Something I also want to apologise in advance for is that it turned out soo long, but when I tried to shorten it - I just wasn’t happy with it. So buckle up and enjoy this fic with a well deserved piece of cake 😊

However, I have brabbled enough - enjoy your Birthday present and your B-day😊

Words: ~8.5k

„Alright, put the daffodils right there – yes, to the Dahlias.” Commanded Elain in a soft voice as fae of all kinds bustled around the grand hall – her voice a drowned-out whisper in all the other murmurs which echoed off the sleek white walls. Bustling skirts, hurried steps, exhausted breaths, and small conversations all around her lithe body, while everyone -female, male, old and young – worked together to make their High Lady proud.

No one knew that it wasn’t their priced High Lady who organized all this; the flowers, the decoration, the cluttery – it was all chosen by Elain, though the main idea really came from Feyre and perhaps that was all that mattered, but right now there was no time to frown at that.

Tables were still in the need to be placed by the walls, so everyone could dance to their hearts content in the middle of the great hall with tapered ceilings, the last bits of food needed preparation and mostly had the decoration to be finished -the colours a special order from Feyre herself when she had approached Elain two weeks ago. Telling her sister in a rushed afternoon, which the seer spent working in her greenhouse, that she would love to have an garland of flowers – rowed in the colours of the rainbow – stretching all over the room.

Considering the fact that the hall was at least thrice the size of the river Estates living room and mid-January – it was a miracle that there were even that many flowers available in Velaris. Many florists had given their last flowers to the charity event of the High Lady, once Elain’s begging voice whispered through their ears, having to close for the next couple of days as they had no other arrangements to put on display, but no one of the shop owners seemed to care.

And honestly, Elain didn’t either -having put the blooming part of her spacious greenhouse to good use – as the last flowers were braided into a river of poinsettias, orange Dahlias, daffodils, Jasmines, light blue Delphiniums and many, many more. If the seer was truly truthful, were it a bit too varying shades of colours to her, as they nearly seemed to jump into one’s eye, but who was she to care. Feyre was the artist who wished to paint this dull hall into a sea of happiness and surely knew what she was doing – hopefully.

Thought Elain while her delicate hands smoothed over the sea of flowers, a coughing fit crawling from her throat the moment all those different smells hit her flaring nose thrills – giving her already a headache – while she ordered for the garland to be pulled up.

“It’s just … magnificent.” Breathed Feyre next to Elain, a swirling cloud of dark chiffon skirts swaying to her feet, as she watched how the rainbow expanded over their heads in a bow, like a real rainbow. “It sure is.” Coughed Elain, while she tried to hide her coughing fit and tearing eyes behind the back of her hand – this was just too much for her nose!

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay till the party starts? You know, my students keep nagging me to bring my pretty sister back to the art lessons.” Mocked her carefree voice the tearing seer, who just shook her head – to more she wasn’t able anyway as Feyre already rushed off to Rhysand, who strode into the grand hall as if it was a catwalk, together with Nyx on his hip. Smiling sadly to herself did the seer shake her head and avoided to gaze at the happy family, safe, together and alive – unlike many other families who had fallen victim to the war.

The cold luring song of death pulling all those warriors and innocent fae away from their loved ones. This evening was for those loved ones, who stayed in the charts and rubble of a past life. This evening was supposed to be  giving them  hope – hope of a healed life as they were to laugh to their hearts content again. And Elain should have been happy for Feyre and Rhys – is happy for them – but somehow this was never all she felt, somehow there was this pinch. Twisting and stabbing her guts whenever she thought of all of the happiness, the freedom – all which she denied herself and did not dare to believe in anymore, as it was taken from her. Her freedom – her choice. Given to a male she nearly did not change a word with and did not even whish to have a bond with as her happiness vanished in the puff of a stary night as a ravenous voice declared to her: ‘It was a mistake.’

Never would she forget those words. Never would she ever be able to hear them from him again -whispered, yelled, breathed, or just told in a voice as cold as a grave – as no matter how, they would always be her end. Always send her heart bleeding in a flood of scarlet red while her eyes cried the river of a thousand seas binding together.

But it was no use- mourning after someone she was not supposed to be with. After all immortality awaited her and right now were the things on her mind far more important than a male – no matter how charming, generous, kind, patient and good looking he was. Elain tried to shake her head at those silly thoughts, her bleeding-heart wandering in a mine of salt with them, as her golden locks flew around her like a spinning skirt of the finest silk twirling under the glimmering lights of a chandelier. Sparkling and sprinkling as if a thousand stars lived in those heavy strands of hair. But those stars would not shine, would not rise as she hurried with silent steps away from the last preparations.

Past a happily laughing Rhys and Feyre as they listened to Nyx blabbering and let her pass without a second glance into the dull hallway.

‘She forgot!’

‘Of course, she forgot!’

Raged her mind while she waltzed over the marble in a barrel of sky blue chiffon skirts; ‘Why would she remember?’ , asked her heart her, this traitorous head of hers silently answering her ‘She has many things swirling in her head right now, she just forgot this year – there are millennia’s to come, don’t be too hard on her.’

Lie! Screamed her shattered heart, as tears dreaded to fall from her doe eyes, waiting like brave sailors at a plank end for the final push of the captain, while her delicate hands gathered the soft material of a dainty blue chiffon. But this last push never came.

The words in her head and memory those of a salt dipped dagger, but she did not cry, did not bend as her cruel heart sang to her, that her sister had not only forgotten this years Birthday, but the one of last year and the one before that and even before that.

Feyre forgot Elain’s birthday for the fourth time in a row and if things were going to continue like they were now, her younger sister would surely wonder in a century, if Elain was truly born or just popped out of a seed on some nameless day. Though Nesta was not of much difference, her number of rows only a three, while her pretendence of knowing her beloved gardener sister hurt just as much as Feyres.

Both seeming to know what was best for her.

Both seeming to know that a rainbow would wait to be spotted in her life – funny thing was just, that instead of letting her watch out for the numerous colours painted in her fate, did those two stand in front of her. Clouding her vision and senses with their good believed thoughts as they were ready to fight for this miraculous happiness of hers with a shield, dagger and sword, and bow and arrow. Never letting anyone past them, as they watched out for her, believing that this suffocating grip they had on her heart was something non-existent.

But they didn’t know that she felt about them this way, after all – Elain never really spoke a word of discomfort to them, never truly. All that spoke for her was her body – lithe a pale swaying from time to time under the glowing sun, whilst her last meal had been days ago. A peaceful sleep seemingly something which mocked her from a century long distance as it escaped her over and over again.

But no one noticed -except for Nuala and Cerridwen, who tried to nurse the delicate fawn silently back to health with heart sweetening friendship and occasional baking lessons, in which they all ate the results after wards.

Though did another name occur in her mind, as she raced through the long, sleek corridors and farther away from the shining stomach of the bustling manor. Grabbing her lilac cloak in a hurried way, while she repeated that same name over and over again in her head. The smile she wore stretching itself impossibly wider on her lips the more often she thought of him and his dazzling smile. Him and his gleaming eyes and sun lightening laughter.

And it were those thoughts which made her rushed walk to her home so much lighter, almost jumping from one step to the other as she hurried past chatting fae on the cobbled street. Only noticing with a distant consciousness that each house she passed grew darker and darker. Colour fading, whilst walls crumbled under the broken roofs.

Her nose didn’t even scrunch up at the rotten smell which wafted through the air, unlike she had done before, because she knew -just knew- that this was a familiar scent. One which would come without suffocating sisters, one which would come without an always smiling gardener but one which would come with a light sweet hearted boy, who lived among greys and browns.

Only a few houses stood crumbled, but proud, under the sinking sun of the night court. Rags and hastily put-up tents dominating the dark paths far in the outskirts of Velaris. Though some did not want to acknowledge that they were still part of this shining city, feeling out of place and unheard, whilst the high fae and lesser fae lived in glorious peace with their High Lord and Lady, who believed to have restored houses and families of their city. The healing of the peoples hearts a process which started long ago. The charity ball of Feyre was a part of this process too.

Her cheery and optimistic self, which also understood the pain and grief of the fae, made them all come together for those in need -mostly for those at the rainbow. Little did one of them know that those who needed the help the most, suffered in silence under ruins, and decayed bodies of their loved ones. Skeletons of delicate fae females, bulky males, Illyrians and even children resting in dreading ivory colour among crumbled walls and roofs.

Fortunately, he was not one of them, luckily, he was brave enough to get a hold of her skirt one fateful day on which she got lost. Mortified by the skeletons, ruins and death singing streets, did her heart nearly leap out of her chest once this little hand brought her to a halt. This traitorous muscle already readying her to meet the empty eye sockets of a dead being. But those eyes glittering and shimmering like a mountain lake at her were pretty much the liveliest she had ever seen. Specks of brown and green swimming in those eyes of his, that one could think they were fishes enjoying the warm presence of him.

Just like Elain would do now, as she reached a small house. A cracked door -rotten and hanging off on one hinge- was all which kept her from seeing him again. Eager to see his blinding smile, did she knock three times: one short and two long, just like she had told him.

“Elain!” squeaked his voice already from the inside, as he hurried to haul the door open. The seer could only smile at the little boy standing in front of her with this dazzling grin – one of his front incisors gone. “Hey Amel! Would you let me in?” “Of course!” beamed the boy and crushed the seer into a warm hug once she closed the door behind her. “What did I miss while I was gone?” spoke her voice softly, once she had picked him up and carried him towards the rag of a couch only a few steps away. His little wings twitching up for the shortest of moments, when she accidentally brushed the base of his wings with a slightly calloused hand. “Nothing much.”, mumbled Amels voice into her shoulder, “though I did miss you. Does that count?” Elain giggled at his hopeful eyes and could only plop his little nose; “Of course it does! I missed you too after all.”

Amel nuzzled into her at those sweet words and enjoyed her warmth like a giant cat, which curled up on the seers chest. Though he did not purr, but did the boy fold his wings neatly back in – almost as if he were ready to fall asleep.

“I have a surprise for you!” spoke up the little Illyrian in a rush, once Elain sat on the slightly mushy pillows of the couch, as if he had just remembered the surprise himself rather than to tell Elain. “And which one is that?” But she did not even receive an answer, as the little Illyrian had long scurried to the kitchenette in the back of the giant room, in which next to the sofa and a kitchenette stood an old table, with two chairs, accompanied by an old cask, which worked as a bathtub and an ancient fireplace. The in grey stone set cleft gaping at her, whilst the heavy stones crumbled, but the important parts of the old fireplace were still intact. The empty blackness reminding her that she had to feed it with wood and light them up in order to have some warmth in the perforated house.

Kneeling in front of the ancient fireplace did she fed log for log and lit the stack of wood with cold shaken fingers up, silently listening how Amel dragged a chair over to the kitchenette and climbed on top of it.

It were mere minutes which the seer had spend here, yet had the sun sunken that low already, that the stars begun their twinkling evening dance atop of their heads – bringing chilly January coldness with them, that let her breath fog. And that was the sign for Elain to start the nightly preparations with a whistling wind around her shaking shoulders, picking up various piles of blankets, while Amel still bustled around in the rotten kitchen cabins.

Blanket after blanket were strained atop of the clumsily, over the holes nailed wood. Blocking out any roaring sound of cold gusts and any light. And whilst the seer put the last blanket over the gaping slit of the broken door, did Amel sit down eagerly on the couch. “Come on, Elain! You are going to miss your surprise!” She smiled then, nailing the last blanket for today against the old wood and strode over towards the young boy with two thick wool blankets in her hand.

Once she sat down on the slightly warmed pillows, did Amel pull something to the front, from behind his back, the happiest smile he ever wore stretched on his thin lips: “Happy Birthday, Elain!” Exclaimed his cheery voice and let her gaze on a plain little muffin, which was topped with a half burned Birthday candle. “You shouldn’t have, Amel.” Whispered the seer as tears welled up in her eyes and hugged him with all her blazing heart.

She had only mentioned the day of her Birthday once, in a bedtime story she told him, and here he was – this young soul, full of happiness despite all his pain, who presented her a sweet little muffin as if it was a great Birthday cake. And it was, for her it was everything she ever asked for. Elain did not need any gowns or jewellery on her Birthday as presents, she just wanted a soul which remembered her.

And Amel was together with Nuala and Cerridwen the only souls which truly remembered her. Perhaps Azriel remembered the date too, but after the Solstice a few weeks ago it was probably clear that he would not wish to speak his congratulations to her, after all – she was a mistake. One he was likely to never do again, as he seemed to avoid her like the plague – only letting her catch one accidental glance at him while he admired the work in her Greenhouse from afar.

“You have to blow out the candle!” cheered Amel. Though did his eyebrows raise once Elain told with a slightly stern voice, that he was the one to eat the muffin. “I already ate lots of cake Amel, one more bite and I’ll explode!” joked the seer, but the Illyrians wings only lowered itself down on the brown pillows “I knew it is not good enough…” “It is, Amel. This is all I could ever ask for and I bet it tastes delicious,” Elain rested her cold hands over those of the little Illyrian, cupping the muffin together with him “but you need to eat more than me. You are still growing.” He nodded at that and let the seer blow out the striped candle.

She did not have a wish then, but after Amel devoured the baked good and went to take a bath with her, did he ask her sleepily “What did you wish for?” Elain tugged the blankets around them impossibly closer, a cocoon of warmth, “I can’t tell you; it won’t come true otherwise.” “Pleaseee…” “Alright.” Chuckled Elain at the Illyrian, whose wet black hair stuck out as if it were hedgehog spikes and leaned down to him: “I wished for your Mama and Papa to come home and that you three live in a cute little hut together.” “Without you?” “I’ll come by to visit – verry often.” spoke Elain once she saw his sad blue eyes, that lit up the moment she announced her regular visits.

It made her smile, when Amel cuddled closer into the pillows of the large couch and into her warm side, his arms and wings sleepily drabbed over her while he tried, even in his sleep, to protect her and hold her close to him. Elain could only draw calming circles over his wet hair, as she too pulled his little body closer. The sad awareness of her lie chuckling behind the sofa leans at her.

She knew that Amels parents were to never return. Their broken bodies one of the first she had found and buried, after she decided to come and help those who needed it. Fae of all kind had helped her burry those which did not survive the Hybern attack and had taken her advice on going into the starlight kissed city. Only this little boy stayed.

She had met him the week after she buried the winged female and in rind covered male, the descriptions he made to her sending chills down her spine as she realized that he was the child of those two lovers. An orphan now – though did he not know it, as he eagerly waited for his parents to come home after their grocery shopping and Elain did not have the heart to tell him of his parents passing. The only thing she had told him, was that they were asleep and that for a verry, verry long time – forever-she had told.

But Amel did not understand the meaning of those words and simply waited for his parents, in their house, to wake up and get him back. Elain couldn’t count the times she had asked the boy to come with her anymore. His reason of stay always the same – “Mama and Papa won’t find me, if I’ll leave.” And so, all she could do was visit him, as often as she could and if one considered that her presence at the river estate was barely acknowledged, did she spend almost all her time here. The only ones which knew about her whereabouts were Nuala and Cerridwen, who occasionally send her with a basket ‘into town’ to get something for them, if Feyre ever asked. Though did the basket never come back filled – it was always empty. The smuggled loaves of bread and wheels of cheese always staying at the little hut together with Amel, who had fallen soundly asleep next to her.

His little snores pulling her under too, whilst wind and darkness raged outside and slowly let the fire die down.

A heavy knock on the door was what pulled them awake. Sleep mused and dry did the Illyrian boy and Elain look at each other and waited for another knock, which followed soon. The seer already wanted to go and check the door herself as Amel only hurried past her, to haul the door open again. Letting her poke the dying ember glimmers in the ashes awake.

And then he just stood there at the door, wings dropped and mouth wide in amazement, did the boy not even shiver when coldness cloaked his in rags covered body. “Who is it, Amel?” shouted Elain from the fireplace, as her eyebrows furrowed together. At this time of day no one had any business to attend here. The worry she felt overtaking her once no one answered her. And as she saw the one standing on the other side of the threshold, did she nearly lose the black fire poker in her hands. Shock, delight, and pain all suddenly exploding and chasing around in her heart.

Amel only took her free hand, once he saw her frozen face – widened eyes and a slightly parted lips. “He looks like the one you always describe in my bedtime stories.” Stated his happy voice in a hushed tone, as if he feared the person at the threshold – chunky as a cupboard – was just a ghost. He was certainly not the only one believing that, as Elain herself could not process the picture in front of her.

Azriel stood there, in flesh and blood, with a heavy breath fogging the air as his murky coat and wind mussed mass of dark hair stood black against the stary night. At first glance one could believe he was one with the darkness, but at second glance one saw the broad shoulders, tugged in wings and tousled hair standing darker than the shadows against the sky. A silhouette painted in the depths of a night blooming sky in one of Feyres paintings.

And he was just that, a painting whose face lit it up in a golden hue with surprise once he saw the little Illyrian hauling the door open with his yet dainty fingers, now clutching to the seers hand. His breath halting the moment he saw her -just like hers had flogged itself away in her chest once she saw his eyes again. Dulled and almost entirely hazel, the specks of grey and green which she had spotted over a year ago, nearly gone as they seemed to hide away from pain and hurt.

“Elain.” Tore her his ravenous voice away from his empty eyes. She felt shocked, to say the least as they were always warm and seemed to sing of companionship and appreciation whenever her gaze wandered into them, but now there was nothing – just a murky sea of hazel, empty and without a feeling. “Can I come in?” “Of course!” chirped Amel before she could even lift her tongue for an answer. Sending the boy a stern look -accompanied by a suppressed smile – when he left her delicate hand and placed his little palm against Azriels large one, dragging a stumbling Shadowsinger into the little hut, as they left the seer to close the door.

Elain could only smile and shake her head, once she saw how the two took their seats on the coach, a strong wind- piercing and shivering- flickered through the rotten walls and send the fire dancing, whilst the seer merely shook at the gust. Hazily closing the door after this howling bite reminded her of the gaping opening in the wall.

“Are you really the Shadowsinger?” whispered Amel at the gigantic male by his side, as if he were afraid to accidently summon an ancient creature. “I am.” Azriel inclided his head, “At your service little lord … .” “Amel.” The Shadowsinger send a rare grin to the boy and repeated his name, which set the Illyrian giggling “But I am no Lord!”

“Really? But I thought you had the heart of one.” Mused Elain as she stepped back to the two again, her arms loaden with wood and those delicate shoulders covered in a sheet of wool. Amel watched her with raised eyebrows feed the fireplace. “How do you know one has the heart of a lord?”

“Well, that’s easy.” Smiled the seer to herself once she sat down with the two curious males. Amel a small curious bundle of wings between her and Azriel – watching her with the same curious stare as the Shadowsinger. “A lord is one of a noble kind, though I do not mean the kind of nobility you are born with. I mean a kind of nobility you grow over time, one which is not defined by money or jewels, but by the weight of the heart and one’s decisions.” Whispered her small voice at him and poked the spot above his heart with a teasing finger. “A lord is -for me- not someone born with the claim of a throne or a higher stance in society, only minding his own business and his alone. A Lord is someone who is kind and generous, with a heart as bright and pure as the sun.” And somehow her gaze wandered over the ash black locks on Amels head and into the curious eyes of the Shadowsinger.

Specks of life and colour returning to these irises in green streaks once her words had settled into his heart. A shy smile stretching on her lips after she had spotted the faint blush in his cheeks, under the glowing light of fire.  

Amel only hummed at the words. “So does that mean I am a Lord?” “To me, yes!” smiled Elain at the boy and wrapped him into the wool blanket beside him. Afraid that the wind which rattled at the planks and blankets would bite into his warmed body. Tucking him away with a careful hand and slowly pushing him down on the spacious couch. “Come on, Amel, it is time for bed.” “But I don’t wanna go to bed! We have a visitor!” Protested the young boy with an uprising of his wings and voice.

Making the Shadowsinger uncomfortable as he was brought into the argument. “I can go … if you need your rest little boy.” The little Illyrian jumped at that – not on the floor to have a temper tantrum – but to the Shadowsinger. His little fingers holding on tightly to Azriels’ neck as he sat in his lap, “No! Please don’t go! It’s nice to have you around!”

“You are certainly the only one who is thinking that.” Grinned Azriel at his head. Somehow laughter and sadness lacing those uplifted corners. Those twisted ties drawing in the seer so much, that she could not prevent those childish words from slipping; “That is not true. I like your company very much.” Only when his head snapped to her, those eyes widened and brimming with green and grey again, did she hear her own words pounding against her ear and nearly punching her heart out of her chest, as she got lost in the forest in his eyes.

Only catching herself once a last crack of wood screamed in the flames, making the burning ember jump out of the chimney and onto the rotten wooden tiles. It had the seer nearly jumping to her feet – pushing the glowing ember back with the heavy fire poker, as if she were stabbing a chicken.

Or a king for that matter, as suddenly not the gleaming heat of the fire covered her hand, but the warmth of freshly spilled blood. Elain shrieked at the sight, eyes wide and mortified did she throw the iron poker in front of the fireplace. Wiping her ash covered hand at those chiffon layers of sky blue.

Azriel was there the moment her back hit the old couch. Setting Amel on the old cushions and picking up the slightly heated fire poker with a careful, scarred, hand.

He took the space beside her the moment his ears heard the Illyrian boy shuffle to lay down, trying to give them at least the imagination of privacy with his back turned to the two fae. “El, are you alright?”

Her heart jumped at her nickname on his tongue. Rolling off of it so easily, as if he had done it a hundred times. “I am fine.” Croaked this silent voice of hers at him. Making her laugh at her ruined try of steadiness. “It’s fine Az, really. Nothing to be worried about.”

He didn’t answer her.

Hearing the lie a mile away even if he were deaf.

But he gave her time to sort herself out and collect all the silent thoughts she did not share with him. The moment she wanted to, his words flowing into hers as they were to interrupt each other’s sentences; “What are you doing here Azriel?” “I wanted to wish you a happy Birthday.”

They looked at each other then, really and for the first time in weeks. Those brown swirls in the seers’ eyes drawing him in, as if he were a child yearning for chocolate. Whilst the seer wandered into those streaks of green in his irises as if they were a mystical forest, she long wished to discover, but never dared to.

It had them still, yet throwing their heads back as laughs, as sweet as the first flowers in spring bloomed from the seer’s mouth. Whilst those frail petals slithered down Azriels spine, had the rich ravenous sound of his laughter goosebumps emitting on the seer’s skin. Amel merely turned around, peeking at the two adults merely sitting inches away from each other. The Shadowsingers wings slightly extended to Elain’s side as content silence wrapped around them as a warming blanket.

Even after weeks of silence did not change a thing of their companionship.

Even after all this time, after all the mistakes, had nothing changed.

There was a bond, buzzing and glowing, as warm as a hearth between them. But something dimmed this radiant glow.

Though it was no shadow which touched this magnificent bond. Enthralled by this golden glow themselves did they sneak around it like curious snakes, watching and gazing, tracing and tickling.

But neither of the two fae acknowledged this bond, this tether between night and day.

And so Amel saw it upon himself to cut through this thick silence, once no one dared to utter a word, not even a heave of a silent breath. “Elain, I am tired. Can you tell me a story, please?” “Of course!” jumped the seer to answer immediately, as she turned to wrap him up. Snuggling onto the couch close to his fragile body, to prevent him from freezing, and put another blanket atop his frame.

It didn’t take long for the boy to nuzzle into the seers side, pressing his rounded ear next to her left ribcage -listening to the thundering sound of her heart. “Do you want to listen too, Shadowsinger?”

“Please, call me Azriel. And only will I stay if your mother is alright with it.” Elain stiffned at that, barely noticeable -at least for Amel- as the little boy merely answered him “Elain is not my Mama – but she is waiting, together with me, for her to come back.”

Dread immediately filled Azriels guts as he saw the almost invisible shake of her head. He was an orphan. Left in the rubble of Hyberns attack.

He had to chock down a small “I am sorry.” For the boy did not yet know of his parents passing. But even though this was a message as dark as a shadow, did he still feel a spark of light inside this black mist, when he remembered how long ago the attack was and Elain was still here to watch and guid him. “Before you ask, Azriel, I don’t want to go into the city. Mama and Papa won’t know where I am if I leave.” Yawned the boy tiredly, surprising the Shadowsinger ever more, as he seemed to have known his next question.

Elain merely smiled at the boy and caressed his back protectively, whispering to no one in particular “I have tried to convince him for months now to come with me into Velaris, or at least a little hut -not a ruin- but this stubborn Illyrian doesn’t even give me a chance to reason with him.” Her gaze shifted then, from a warm fire to a cold batch of earth “But I am already used to that.”

Azriel didn’t know if she meant the incident on solstice, or if she was talking about her lack of choice in general, but he did not dare to pry any further as the shadows whispered of her uneasiness to him.

Amel seemed almost fast asleep in her arms, lulled in by the beat of her heart -how he would have liked to switch places with the little boy – barely noticing anything around him as he carefully got up from the creaking floor. “I better get –“ “Stay.” Interrupted him Elain before his heavy booted feet could even make one tentative step towards the door.

The Shadowsinger was torn between leaving and staying. The High Lords words,as well as his own ringing in his rounded ears. ‘You are to stay away from her.’ ‘It was a mistake.’

Did these words hunt her just as much as they chased him?

Letting him grief and nearly cry out in anger at a love he was denied being with, as his brother -His High Lord- assumed him to be driven by the need of his lusts. But this was by far the furthest thing from reality. He had long admitted to himself, that the taste of the seer on his tongue would send him to heaven and hell all the same.

But what he carved more than any taste of her, was just the feeling of her. The warmth of her lithe body seeping into him, whenever she would hug him. The sound of her voice giggling at one of his dry jokes – whilst her smile brightened up his world. Her smell a perfume of Jasmin he wished to smell for the rest of eternity.

And driven by all that -his hearts carvings- did he give in to the temptation of her company and settled to rest at the other end of the brown couch. One of the woollen blankets Elain had carried before resting atop his massive frame with slight scratches, but they gave him warmth and something other to concentrate on than the seers smell.

„All right. You settled in, Amel?” “Uhmm.” Hummed his young voice at Elain, sleep already drenching from every little sound. It had the seer giggling, whilst the Illyrian only nuzzled into her. Merely peeking an eye open when he had heard nothing of the silent Shadowsinger. Only to see the picture of darkness at the wrong spot.

Elain was sure, that if Feyre, or any other artist was to capture this moment, it would not be the taunt reality with a shy Shadowsinger trying to hide at the other end of the couch. For anyone else it would be death peering down on his next victims. The shadows behind him seemingly lashing and wiping at those preys, whilst the truth was one of shyness. The shadows not knowing what to do with themselves as their master was fully at ease and their presence of needlessness. But the curiosity they harboured, for the story that was to come, made them stay. Shyly settling down by Azriels wings and shoulders as they waited patient as dogs for the seer to begin.

But apparently was Amel not happy with the arrangements. Huffing a loud puff of air at the seer when he had realized the uncomfortable shyness with which Azriel gazed at them. “Azriel, please come here too – I wanna cuddle with you too!” It had the Shadowsinger go stiff as a board, the calm shadows beside him suddenly twitching alive again. But instead of lashing out to protect this cupboard of a male, did they more seem to gather behind his back. As if trying to push him.

“Traitors!” muttered the Shadowsinger under his breath, making the seer giggle ever the softest at his stern gaze into the black void. Amel hadn’t heard this word, which echoed through the seers pointed ear, but was delighted when he saw the dark male standing and gathering his blanket. The fire beside them dancing and seemingly caressing the stern panels of his face and gigantic wings.

Every other kid would have trembled in fear at him. Afraid that those painful eyes would hide a volcano of rage and violence, but Amel knew it better. And Elain couldn’t help as to smile at herself, with the knowledge that this better knowledge of the boy was her fault – telling him every night a tale of the Shadowsinger, which she herself heard from Nuala and Cerridwen.

“Scoot over.” Ordered Amel with the try to push the seer at the sofa lean. Even though the seating was rather large considered to regular couches, it still was not enough to fit all three next to each other.

Azriel already wanted to see it as a cue to finally go. A sigh of relief, but also exhaustion flooding him, as his heart yearned for the company of the seer. But also was afraid to come too close to her. Hurting her perhaps. He didn’t wanted to do that.

To his relief or unluck, he wasn’t sure, grabbed the seven year old his tainted hand and pushed him into the space next to Elain.

The seer, as well as the Shadowsinger, gazed at each other in a moment of surprise. Their widened eyes searching the company of each other as Azriels wings twitched beneath him, adjusting ever the slightest to his new form of rest -trying to make them some space.

But as it turned out was the only option to let Elain slightly lean up and let the wing pass under her. Cradling this lithe body of hers, while Amel crawled on the males chest and snuggled between the two. His own wings a warm cocoon around him. “Comfortable?” asked Azriel the boy and had his heart leaping in his chest at the bright smile the boy offered him. Hugging him close as if he were not a monster, as if he were not covered in the blood of hundreds and hundreds, but as if he were a male like everyone else. With a heart and a life and a mind which could make generous decisions.

It was the case that he did, but right now, even this moment seemed too innocent to weigh against all the bad decisions he made. Sensing his discomfort snaked the seer an arm around the little Illyrian between them, and let her palm silently rest on his drumming heart. She felt every nervous pump of blood on her skin, yet she merely smiled and tugged the blankets -which were shortly discarded- up to cover all three of them.

The fire still crackling happily in its pit. Whilst those three souls lay in comfort there.

It was the physically closest they had ever been. Even with Amel between them could the seer not say were his heaving chest ended and her calming hand started, connecting them as if he were a vibrant tree sprouting out of her calming earth. Somehow this coaxed a smile out of her and using the situation shamelessly by snuggling even closer.

But it did not like as if Azriel minded, as his scarred hand grabbed a hold of her waist. Steadily keeping her against him.

“Ready for your story?” whispered Elain in the warmth before the fire. “Yes!” declared the boy and too, snuggled closer to the Shadowsinger. In whose chest seemed to bloom a flower of happiness, nurtured by the appreciation, patience and love of those two in his arms.

Elain merely smiled and started a tale which the quiet Shadowsinger was to remember even in the passage of centuries.

“Once upon a time, there lived a princess. She was of utter beauty and kindness, pure and entirely unstained. Something her two sisters wanted to prevent from ever happening, as they searched the truest, kindest and sweetest soul for her sister to marry. Promising her hand to him at a time she had not even met this mysterious man. The bubble of solitude and guarded safety her sisters kept her in, stifling her chances of ever getting to know him before their wedding was to happen. Promising her forever to the hand of a stranger, who did not even own her trust.” Azriel noticed, that during sometime at her telling – had slipped a sting of pain in those normally bright shining eyes. But Azriel assumed to know why this was the case, her fingers starting to rub unconscious circles over his heart – chanting searing circles through his burning skin as his heart thundered and pumped in response at them. At even the softest of flame rings did this beating muscle in his heart not miss a chance to capture this circle.

And then she whispered again -at the night, at Amel, at him or at the fire, he wasn’t sure. “But this marriage was a trap. Not for the lovely sister, but for the poor man -who would spend his entire life in the fear of losing his wife to a so believed demon inside of her. This creature inside of her -so it was told- capturing her and leaving her eyes in a mist of grey whenever he was to talk to her. “

“Her sisters had worried for their beloved, lovely sister ever more with the passing years, as this haze of grey seemingly hunted her day and night. Fearing that this beast might kill her, had they locked her up, far, far into a tower with barred windows. Her entire freedom taken away from her, when her sisters had sent a guard to watch over her.” Elain chuckled, and sneaked a glance at the Shadowsinger, who cradled the tired Illyrian, as if her were worth an entire court. “At first, she believed him to be a statue, one created without emotions displayed on his looming face. But over the time she got to spend with him – she saw it was actually a massive cauldron brewing beneath his bronze skin. Mixing happiness, kindness, gratitude, sadness, anger and so much more into one pot that he just didn’t know how to express them.”

“But over time -even when those hazy moments possessed her- did they grow to know each other. Finding more similarities in the other than it was ever believed of a guard and a princess to have. Her sisters however were blind to the obvious trust between the guard and their sister and kept the engagement to the other man. It was when she first saw the male, so in contrast to the guard who had her trust, that this demon overtook her. Not just her eyes, but also her mouth. Speaking of a riddle which was to occupy the entire Kingdome of the princess for years: ‘The one with the deepest of values, shall be able to set her free – the one of the greatest of powers. The one having fate at her hand, a two-sided blade -one old and one new- wielding at her will. A mist of grey laying ahead of her eyes, whilst the path behind her, shall be paved forever more. The stone to rest, one which she can’t move.’ “

Her eyes glazed over at that – when her voice talked almost sacredly about those prophecies – as if she were in a memory only months away. Absently starting to trace Amels ash black curls with a tentative finger. His deep snore vibrating through the Shadowsingers chest as both watched in trance the rise of his little body. When she realized that Amel had long gone into the depths of sleep, she withdrew her hand, closing her eyes for the rest of slumber. That was until the Shadowsinger asked, a careful edge lacing his voice, “Could you please continue? I wanna know the answer to the riddle.”

Her eyes snapped woken at that, a shy smile stretching her lips, before she used the hand to cradle the felty matt of Amels hair, to caress his lightly stubbled cheek “I assume you already know the answer, Shadowsinger.” “Still. Please.” He wanted to hear her voice just for a little longer. Wanted to enjoy her embrace as long as he could – savouring every searing fingerprint of her on his skin.

Elain did not argue father than that, simply letting her words lull him in again; “Her sisters believed, that the one who had the deepest of value, was the betrothed of their beloved sister. Claiming that her love was his. But to their disappointment had he no clue, no answer with could free the lovely princess from her haze. And so, she stayed locked up, in the tower and murky depths of grey, her hand free to take – as the sisters saw that the man they chose, was a choice for another princess. The riddle, which was spoken, carried near and far. Surprisingly, luring a lot of man into the trance of the cursed princess, so it was said. “

“Her beauty had man forget the oddity ,this curse seemed to be, and made them simply wish to take her hand with the freeing of her haze. And yet, determined they all were, no one had the ability to free her from those murky grey depths. The only soul loyal by her side -unafraid- was the devoted guard by her side. Watching and protecting her like the human she was before. “

“Year went by, beforethe guard got fed up with presenting the princess constantly as if she were an animal in the zoo. A mere attraction, not a living being. The guard had heard the riddle so many times, he himself was able to recite it as if it were his own words, yet it took time too, for him to realize the meanings of the words.”

Elains brown orbs gazed deep into his then, a bright smile seemingly lightening each freckle and trace of colour in her eyes, when she recited the words he once declared “A seer. That was what the guard had told. Freeing the princess from the grey murky depths of future and past with two simple words. Spoken as if they weighed nothing. But the world rose at that day, colour, smells and feelings returning to the princess. The cry of happiness was roaring through the entire castle, as the two sisters wanted to hug their beloved sister, though had she heard nothing of that. Running past her extended arms and down the pedestal on which they kept her. Jumping right into the guards’ arms and clinging to him, as if he were her air.”

“Is that what you would have liked to do?” grinned the Shadowsinger. The tenseness of his shoulders -of his entire being- seemingly vanished into thin air within this stolen moment. Elain blushed a little, but nodded nonetheless – snuggling a bit closer to his warmth and body – whilst his wings drew in tighter and tighter around the three. As if they were the boundary between the world and their peace. “If Lucien wouldn’t have been there -as well as my sisters- I would have done so. I would have weeped into your arms out of joy.” Admitted Elain with crimson cheeks. But Azriel merely pulled her tighter with the hand around her hip.

A silent understanding that he, too, would have liked to change this moment now. But the past is paved and set in stone – no matter how many mistakes one might have done, they could only change the future. And Azriel knew the moment a loud snore left Amels lungs, that he wanted a future where this was not a stolen moment – where this was their life. And one in which this would not be a ruin, but their home.

Their home.

How he liked that sound. Making him feel all fuzzy and warms as he imagined it, not even the cold reality of the story able to catch up to him. He was with Elain in her embrace he could dream – he always did. It should have been a warning- that his mentality had went from cautious and professional to this cotton candy sprinkled mind of happiness and without boundaries – but he would take the consequences for that on another day, in another setting.

“Where did you even know from where I was?” whispered Elain into the dimming light. “I didn’t. The shadows had guided me.” And as if on queue flickered a whisper of darkness over her cheek, caressing her, as if they were a ribbon of silk. Fluttering briefly over the snoring Illyrian between them too.

“They seem to like you and him.” “I like them too.” Smiled the seer. “They are you after all.”

Azriels heart nearly burst at this as blinked away the prickling sensation in his eyes. Never, not in 500 years, had one spoken of him and his shadows like this. Never had he felt those words more than now as he was on an emotionl edge.  Torn between his High Lords command and the calming presence of this beloved female. But as she hugged him impossibly closer, he knew that he no longer was torn – that he no longer had to fight against a wish he wanted fulfilled.

Azriel was sure that he wanted Elain, courts and everything be damned, as he only hugged her closer too. She and Amel, right now the only ones which counted to him. And he was ready to die for them – if Lucien or Beron insisted on the blood duel.

“I am sorry I haven’t gotten you a Birthday gift, El.” Exclaimed his strained voice suddenly, when he noticed the seers eyes glaze over with tiredness – believing that she could not answer him anymore.

“It’s alright Az, your company is gift enough.”

And it was in that moment, when silence and sleep rested on the wind’s breath, that he didn’t know if it was the seers Birthday or his. As this was the greatest present he ever received.

*

*

*

The wind sored loudly around them, as a curtain of honey whipped in front of his face -the seer having once again not listened into braiding her hair- clouding his vision on the small hut. “We are almost home!” yelled Amels voice next to the two. His yet delicate wings carrying him carefully on the gusts of wind, as if they were lifting him up into the arms.

Azriel and Elain merely smiled, once they saw the little hut. Hidden away into a garden of wildflowers and trees, as Elain had planted them there. Around their home. Around their secret.

It was yet a story to be told to their family, of how the crow -how Azriel translated Amels name to her- had connected death and the fawn. Letting them soar high into the sky in the arms of each other. Away from responsibilitys and fate.

They knew it would all come to an end eventually -spilling the secret – but until then they had this.

A life full of sunshine, yet covered in the shadows, as they flew further and further to the wooden hut. The sun guiding them their path with a shining smile.

Whilst the Seer and the Shadowsinger could only smile as bright as the rise of a new day, “Yes, Amel, we are almost home!”

__________________________________

Taglist (contact me if you want to be added or removed):

@gracie-rosee

@heirofthrnightcourt004​

@galenamineralsbismuth​

[juliafied]

"Having their hair washed" for whoever you fancy!

Here’s some Dorian x Taralen Lavellan, my f!Lavellan’s brother who just lives in my head rent-free now. Thanks for the prompt!! 

@dadrunkwriting

CW: some not entirely sexual nudity

--

Someone had turned the steam up all the way in the little shack that somehow passed for a bathhouse inside of Skyhold’s walls. Of course, Dorian wasn’t about to complain, as a poor excuse for a bathhouse was better than no bathhouse at all, and the steamy little shack was the only place he could use his favourite soaps, that smelt like home. The extra steam was welcome as it swirled around him, finally ridding him of the last of the Fallow Mire chill. Perhaps it would soothe the nasty bruise on his leg, too.

As he sank into one of the tubs that was miraculously always filled with warm, clean water (he had Dagna and her ingenuity to thank for that - Orzammar dwarves apparently had almost as much a penchant for bathing facilities as Tevinters), he thought wistfully of the great baths in Minrathous, a favourite haunt of his during his Circle days. The Skyhold bathhouse was a far cry from the multi-storey complex he longed for, where a multitude of rooms filled with steam, dry heat, and even pools of cold water catered to the preference of each bather. Dorian missed the patrons, too - everything from a philosophical debate on the nature of electrical Fade dynamics to an orgy could be found at the Minrathous baths on a good day. Here, in the middle of the night, he was alone - though, to be true, he preferred having the place to himself, away from the stares of the Skyhold populace.

He poured some salts into the bath and dropped his shoulders deeper, hearing some water splash out over the edge. Closing his eyes, he thought about the son of the Avvar leader who led his whole clan into ruin. Perhaps his father thought Dorian was doing the same to the Pavus legacy, running around as he did with the Inquisition. He smiled bitterly to himself. I hope so.

Suddenly, he heard a creak and the sound of glass shattering, followed by a hissed, “Fenhedis!” Uttering a curse of his own, Dorian scrambled out of the tub and haphazardly wrapped a nearby towel around his waist. 

“Is everything alright?” he called out, before rounding the corner into the other arm of the bathhouse and almost running into Taralen Lavellan.

Taralen Lavellan, who was scowling and very naked.

“Ah!” Dorian exclaimed, furious at the blush that was rushing to his cheeks. He quickly averted his gaze, but not before catching a glimpse of the vallaslin that curled around his beautiful chest. Taralen, however, did not look the least bit embarrassed by Dorian witnessing his state of undress, and merely gestured angrily towards the tub next to him. 

“I don’t understand. I thought there would be at least some kind of pump, like they have in shem cities. Where are we supposed to get the water from?”

Dorian stared blankly at him (at his face, only his face), and then realized that Taralen was expecting an answer.

“They’re runes,” he said, with far less authority and much more trembling in his voice than he had hoped. He walked over to the tub, Taralen’s narrowed eyes following him, and pressed on the blue button, followed by the red button. The tub immediately began filling with hot water. “See?”

Dorian saw that Taralen had bitten his lip in the most irresistible way and had to look away again, this time to the floor, where he saw shards of glass around a pool of creamy yellow gel. Crouching down to pick up the shards, he was hit by the lemon aroma of the soap. 

“Shame,” he murmured, “this soap’s from Antiva.”

He almost shuddered when Taralen’s knee brushed against his as he crouched to join him in cleaning up the glass. They put the pieces into a small towel that Taralen snatched from a nearby pile of them and tied up the corners.

“Well, it can stay there, as far as I’m concerned.” His shoulder-length brown hair, usually tied back into a neat ponytail, fell loosely into his eyes, the gentle waves close enough to tickle Dorian’s nose. “I don’t know how to use any of these things. My clan only ever had lye soap, and that served us plenty well. How’d you get Neris hooked on this stuff?”

Dorian chuckled. “She has a bathtub in her rooms.”

Taralen rolled his eyes. “Of course her Inquisitorialness does.”

He stood abruptly, then, and Dorian did the same, lest he let his eyes wander overmuch. Taralen dipped his hand in the water of the now-full tub, flashing a pretty smile at Dorian.

“It’s so warm!”

And he hopped into the bath with a delighted laugh.

Dorian couldn’t help but laugh along, despite being aware of the blush that persisted on his cheeks. He hoped Taralen would attribute it to the heat, though he doubted it. The elf missed very little, as evidenced by their first meeting.

Taralen let out a satisfied groan. “You know what? I take it back. Use all the fancy soaps you please if it comes with this sort of thing.”

Dorian smiled and took a look at the so-called fancy soaps Taralen had brought along with him. There was a shampoo and conditioner - it seemed the soap had been the one that had been smashed. Two of them weren’t soaps at all - one was a vial of salts, the other an oil for the hair. He opened up the vial of salts and emptied it into Taralen’s tub. Steam rose off the surface of the water, obscuring the rest of his body, thankfully. Dorian wasn’t certain his (albeit limited) sense of propriety could survive, otherwise.

“This one will help with sore muscles.”

“Mmm,” hummed Taralen, letting the water wash over his muscular shoulders. “I can think of a few other things that would, too, but this’ll have to do for now.”

Dorian smirked as he turned away, though a thrill shot through his back and into his stomach. He picked up one of the other bottles and showed it to Taralen. “Can I interest you in some shampoo?”

A pause. “Shampoo?”

“It’s a special soap for your hair.”

“Ah.”

Dorian observed the frustrated curve return to Taralen’s brow, and a frown tugged at the corners of those full, lovely lips. This couldn’t be easy for him, he realized – Aeneris had settled into her role well enough, despite being leader of the Inquisition for a faith she didn’t believe in, amongst people she wasn’t familiar with, with customs and traditions she neither knew nor cared for. But she had a goal, a purpose, a responsibility to focus her. Though Taralen was clearly both adventurous and brave for making the trek to Skyhold, Dorian had seen him wandering aimlessly around the castle while Aeneris met with diplomats and advisors alike. He’d noticed how despondent he became when she left on a long mission to some faraway Inquisition outpost. Abandoning everything he had ever known and loved in favour of living amongst some strange humans in the South just to keep his often absent and preoccupied sister company had to be difficult. Isolating, even. Lonely.

It was a story that felt familiar, too.

“Would you like me to wash it for you?” He almost stumbled over the words, but something compelled him to offer. Perhaps it would bring him some comfort. Or, at the very least, some clean hair.

Now, it was Taralen’s turn to blush, though he did it very prettily. He nodded, an uncharacteristically bashful smile on his lips.

“I would like that.”

Dorian retrieved a pail that was hanging on a hook on a wall nearby and filled it with the hot, fragrant water of the tub. Gently, almost reverently, he poured some water over Taralen’s brown locks, which tightened into delightful curls as they hung off the edge of the bathtub. He refilled the pail and soaked the top of Taralen’s head, who hummed quietly and sunk deeper into the water. Dorian then took the bottle of shampoo and emptied a sovereign-sized dollop of shampoo on his hand. Slowly, he worked it into Taralen’s hair, focusing on massaging his scalp. He seemed to relax under his touch, and even gave a little sigh of relief.

“You know,” Dorian started, “correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ve seen you around the castle, and if Aeneris hasn’t given you much to do—”

“Neris is very busy,” Taralen cut in sharply.

“Be that as it may, if you find yourself in want of some conversation, you can find me in the library whenever you like. I can be very charming when I want to be, or so I’ve been told.”

Taralen chuckled, and they were silent for a few moments, as Dorian ran his fingers through the elf’s lathered up hair. “You’ve been watching me, then?”

“You do seem to catch the eye, yes,” he replied, almost flippant in tone, but he felt his pulse quicken.

Willing his hands not to tremble, he dipped the pail back into the water, this time dipping both his hands in as well, to wash off the lather. As he withdrew, Taralen caught Dorian’s wrist in his hand. Even this brief touch sent a jolt of electricity down Dorian’s spine, one that he couldn’t be sure wasn’t magical in nature. He turned and his ochre eyes met Dorian’s, burning with a sudden intensity.

“I’ve seen you around, too. I’ll be sure to take advantage of your hospitality in the library. And your charm. I agree that you’ve got quite a lot of it.”

There was that wink again, the one that had made Dorian curse all the way down the stairs that led away from Aeneris’ quarters. Fasta vass, he wasn’t supposed to be feeling this way again, not at his age, not with what was at stake for his country, not here. He couldn’t help the sinking feeling, however, as Taralen released his hand and he rinsed the shampoo out of his hair.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he found himself saying.

Afterwards, Dorian considered the fact that it was just as well that his bath had somehow gone cold in his absence, after such an encounter. He certainly needed it.

[spooky-z]

Mom? Dad? Chaos.

First, I would like to thank you all! Really. And I'm not talking about the followers (which reached the 500), no. I'm talking about your reception for my stories. You guys are awesome!

Second, Marinette is a little... dark in this story. Maybe because she fought Hawkmoth for a long time or Batfam influence, I don't know. She defends herself and defends her friends against Lila. So, don't be surprised, please.

(finally managing to edit the post f- u tumblr) 6K of salt, sailors.

Lightly based on Wayne Travelers by @multishipper1needshalp​​ Maribat by @ozmav​​

The day had started normal.

Marinette getting up late for class and getting ready in a hurry while Tikki helped the girl as best she could, her parents setting the table for breakfast together and Damian sitting, waiting for his girlfriend to go to school together. Adrien still asleep after staying up all night with Jonathan on the phone.

That had become Marinette's morning routine for the past two years, with Damian going to Paris to study economics with the best education that money could afford and her finishing high school in Dupont with Adrien.

And as said before, the day had started normal.

They ate breakfast with her parents, Marinette kicking Adrien out of bed and walked together to Dupont's entrance, where their paths parted.

She had kissed Damian good-bye and he whispered a “see you later” before getting in the car parked on the sidewalk. The driver politely waving to Marinette.

Adrien grimacing in the background, like a child watching his parents kiss.

It had been normal the way the class wrinkled their noses as she passed them; how everyone was in their proper place when Lila began to tell the latest nonsense lie; when Adrien came right behind her and was forced to sit next to the Italian (face completely twisted in pained expression); Chloe walking to the back of the room and placing a tender kiss on Marinette's cheek before sitting next to her; the two whispering the news to each other while Adrien sent a wistful look to his friends; their kwamis together in the boy's bag (since it was the largest of the three there).

Ms. Bustier leaving and leaving them with free time to do whatever they want.

This was normal. This was the routine after Hawkmoth had given up on terrorizing Paris and returned the butterfly and peacock Miraculous. After Gabriel Agreste had been arrested.

What was not normal now was that portal opening beside Ms. Bustier's desk and five people passing by.

The whole class frozen in shock.

The first out was obviously the oldest. In his 19 years, probably.

Black hair - in the sunlight there was a bluish illumination - trapped in a bun at the top of his head, the eyes were a cold and sharp gray, his skin was a beautiful olive tone, a strong jaw and the body showed that he was very more than just physically active.

The second person to go through the portal was a girl, who was about 15/16 years old.

They couldn't see the color of her hair, as she wore a hijab, but the eyes were a vivid and bright green, her skin was paler, small face, pink lips in a cupid bow and she also seemed to exercise a lot too.

The first two seemed to be siblings and that at least one of the parents was Asian.

The third was a blonde girl. She was the same age as the first girl, not much older than 16. While she didn't seem to have a more defined body, just the fact that she wasn't touching the floor when she left the portal said a lot about her.

The blond hair - exactly the color of Chloe and Adrien's hair - was long and loose, the curls unruly. The eyes were blue, a radiant blue and not very common, the triangular face, the doll's lips.

The fourth person was actually a little boy, who must have been at most 3 years old and was in the blonde girl's arms.

His hair was black and unruly, eyes were the same bright blue as the girl, round face with rosy cheeks, pale skin and he was sucking his thumb.

The last person to pass through the portal had been a girl with a much stronger Asian heritage than the first two.

Her cherry-red dyed hair reaching her shoulders, body far more defined than the girl with the hijab - her biceps pronounced by the shirt – the eyes were amber and dangerous, thin lips, her skin was tanned from spending too much time in the sun, oval face.

They stared silently at the class as the portal closed behind them.

"Okay... Who's going to tell this to our parents?" The blonde girl asks, breaking the silence and the red-haired girl looks at her, a murderous expression on her face.

“That was your fault! You're the one to tell!” Growls.

The blonde girl looks sincerely sorry.

"How would I know this was a time machine?!"

The redhead approaches her, her fists clenched ready to pounce, but the oldest of the five holds her in place.

"Rie, Emilie, please. Now is not the time to fight." His voice comes up like a blade. Sharp. "Especially with Clark among you."

They move away from each other. Rie walks closer to the classroom door, Emilie floats toward the window. Both with serious faces.

"It's not wanting to cut your drama, but we're not alone." The hijab girl says, drawing their attention to her. “We have audience, (哥哥) gēge.” She points to the still very frozen class.

He turns, his eyes scanning the students, before locking in the back of the room. In Marinette and Chloe. His eyes close in a pained expression.

“Fuck.” Curses without shame. "Dad will kill us."

"Absolutely." She replies, not looking any little upset at the situation.

In fact, her eyes were shining. She seemed very excited about everything.

The bell rings and it seems to wake everyone up from the shock, the students frenzied.

Everyone talking at the same time, they approach; Alya with the phone in hand; Marinette talking quickly on the phone, looking worried; Chloe was looking critically at the newcomers, the familiar feeling poking at her head; Adrien looked downright in love with the little boy in Emilie's arms.

Lila was... Wanting to take advantage of the situation to do something.

Rie begins to fuss over and over with the noise of the class, the pitch of the sound seemed to be hurting Clark's sensitive ears. The situation gets worse until she screams, anger clear in her tone.

“ど け! (Doke!)” Everyone shuts up but doesn't understand what she says. "I said get away, NOW!"

They are frightened by the girl's ferocity and move away.

“Okay, now one at a time.” When everyone moves to talk together again, she raises her hand in a stop signal. "Raise your hands and I'll choose who speaks."

They quickly raise their hands, waving violently. Max was jumping in his seat.

"You." Rie points to Rose and the girl stands up happily.

"What is the name of you all?" Questions.

Rie raises an eyebrow, disbelieving that this was the most important question the girl had to ask, but said nothing. Who answers is Emilie.

"I'm Emilie, this little one is Clark, the scary one is (理 恵) Rie, the handsome guy over there is (健) Jiàn and the hijab girl is Aria-" She turns sideways to point at the girl, just to find the empty spot. “Where's Aria?” She asks the two beside her and Rie just points to the back of the room.

And they all turned just in time to see Marinette being hugged her life away by the girl.

“妈妈 (māmā) you are so cute!” Both Adrien and Chloe gasp, eyes wide. Marinette gets paler and paler.

That moment makes both Rie and Clark notice the blondes in the room and Clark begins to cry, writhing in Emilie's arms and trying to reach Adrien.

“Papa! Papa!” The little boy sniffles until Emilie releases him and lets him fly to Adrien.

The class shouts at the demonstration of power.

The blonde catches him reflexively, hugging the small body in his arms and the boy sinks, melting in the warmth. He looks shocked at Emilie, wanting an explanation and the girl just shrugs, a bland smile on her face.

"Hi Dad."

Adrien chokes, his eyes filling with water, thrilled. He smiles back in disbelief.

"Hi?"

Chloe rises from her seat indignantly.

"Ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!” Shouts. “Why do you two get visits from your future kids, but not me?!” She stomps her foot in a tantrum.

It seemed just another bout of Chloe's futility, but Marinette - who was still being held by Aria - felt her heart ache at the hurt look on her best friend's face.

“Chlo-”

"What am I? Invisible?” Rie responds rudely. “You should recognize your children, 母 (haha).” Her cheeks were rosy despite her serious face.

Chloe is speechless before going downstairs and throwing herself into Rie's arms. She could scarcely believe that she had built a family in the future, that apparently her best friends continued together years and years into the future.

“And you must be my son!” Lila's voice cuts the happy mood. "Handsome like that, you're just like my Damian."

Chloe turns away from Rie, Marinette comes down the stairs with Aria and Adrien stays in his seat, with Clark in his lap and Emilie sitting at his desk, stroking the blond boy's hair.

The seven looks at Lila standing in front of Jiàn, who seemed disgusted with the thought of being her son.

"Yes, many say I look a lot like my father," He replies. And although the expression is not the best, his voice contains no emotion. "But I have my grandmother's eyes."

Lila seems especially excited about the boy's response.

Alya still recording everything and the class in an eternal pause.

“Oh! Now I see! You really look like my mother. She's very beautiful, looks like a model.” Lila says, glancing quickly at Alya, probably making sure the girl was recording everything.

Jiàn wrinkles his nose in disgust and turns away from the greedy hands of the Italian.

“You're not my mother.” Lila is surprised by the hatred in the boy's tone. "My mother has decency and honor, something you obviously lack."

The class seems to stop breathing.

"Oh, that hurt." Emilie muttered, chin resting on Adrien's head.

She had left Adrien's desk and was sitting at Alya's desk, which was behind the boy, so that she could hug him like a koala. Clark was dozing in his arms.

Alya snorted offended.

"Hey, this is no way to talk to her!" She moved, the phone still clenched in her fist.

"I speak the way I want." Jiàn answers. "Criminals and liars don't deserve my respect."

The class starts talking on top of each other, confused.

“What do you mean?” Alix's voice sticks out.

Jiàn tilts his head, but straightens again. An expression on his face as if he had just unraveled the mystery of the century.

"Oh, you haven't found out yet..."

"Or rather, they haven't opened their eyes yet." Aria comments.

Kim gets up, his face rock hard.

"Explain."

The newcomers exchange glances with each other. Aria raises her eyebrow, Emilie shrugs, Jiàn sighs and Rie looks at everyone.

"I think aunt Mari already told you about the sausage being a liar." She pats Chloe's arm affectionately. “Lila Rossi, in 2046, is under arrest for terrorism, extortion, sexual harassment, blackmail and best of all: murder.” Rie smiles darkly as she watches the students' pale faces.

Alya's phone recording every second of everything. Live. On Ladyblog.

Lila feels panic bubbling in her chest, her hands shaking and a sudden weakness in her legs. This could not be happening!

She glances at everyone in the class, noting the expressions between disbelief and fear, only Alya still holding the angry expression on her face.

Adrien, Chloe, and Marinette did not seem surprised by what the boy said, nor angry. She would use that to her advantage.

Lila's eyes widen in the most pitiful expression possible. The fake tears already running down her cheeks. She didn't forget to sniff before she spoke.

“Why are you guys doing this to me?” That catches everyone's attention, Kim being the first to come to the rescue. She uses the boy for support. “Is it some kind of horrible plan Marinette came up with? I know she hates me, but I didn't think she would do something so wicked to bring me down.”

Alya, Alix and Mylene are quick to reach both of them to comfort Lila. Which left Ivan, Nathaniel, Max, Rose, Juleka and Nino to defend the honor of the Italian.

“Look what you did!” The DJ pointed out. "Lila is crying because of you!"

"It had to be Chloe's daughter." Max says, adjusting his prescription glasses to his face. "Only a snake would give birth to another snake."

Emilie sighs offended, as does Aria and Jiàn.

Max barely has time to blink before feeling the sharp edge of Rie's katana in his throat. He swallows, the eyes wide.

She had left Chloe in the same spot before jumping over the tables and reaching Max. The katana that had been her belt, taking shape in her hands just in time to reach the target.

"Call my mother snake again and I'll cut your head off." She says coldly.

Nathaniel runs away, Rose and Juleka accompany him. Even Lila swallows the fake cry feeling the fear run down her spine.

"You wouldn't have the guts-" Ivan begins, but quickly shuts up when he sees Max leaning as far away from the sword as the red thread of blood trickles down his throat.

"Do you doubt...?" Rie says quietly. "Are you sure?"

Marinette reacts with that, ready to separate the girl from her classmate.

“Wait-

“Rie Tsurugi Bourgeois!” Aria calls, voice like steel. "Let him go."

Rie doesn't move, doesn't even blink.

“Now.” Aria raises her voice. Adrien and Marinette are able to see her eyes turn a radioactive shade of green (which resembles Chat Noir's eyes very much) and her round pupils narrow like those of a reptile.

Rie grits her teeth, smoke escaping between them. She squeezes the katana a little deeper into the boy's throat before moving back toward Chloe.

The blade becomes malleable in her hands and she fastens around her waist again, sparing no glance at the rest of the class. Not at all sorry.

Marinette breathes a sigh of relief, but soon becomes serious. She needed to fix that mess.

"Okay." Says it out of nowhere and catches everyone's attention. Aria once again hung around her neck. “This day was too weird in just a few minutes, so I need everyone to collaborate.”

Her gaze points mainly to Rie and Alya, who turn their head into a tantrum.

“First, I want an explanation for that.” Hands shake in the air. “What are you doing here in 2022 and who are you?”

Jiàn smiles quietly before getting serious again.

“Our names have already been said, so I'll tell you where we came from.” He takes the liberty to sit on Ms. Bustier's desk, as if he owns the place. “First, we are from the future, as you have already understood. Secondly, we are children of three students in this class.”

The young man turns to Rie, beckoning her to proceed.

"I'm Rie Tsurugi Bourgeois, I have a twin sister named Alice." She turns to Chloe. “We are your daughters with Kagami Tsurugi. I think you two became something last year, 2021, right?” And the blonde nods emphatically. "Three years from now you get married and after five years Alice and I are born."

Chloe hugs the girl, wild feelings in her chest.

“My turn!” Emilie shook herself on the table, Clark, still sleeping, shifted uncomfortably. "My name is Emilie Lois Agreste-Kent and this cute sleeping is my brother, Clark Auguste Agreste-Kent." She notices Marinette's horrified look and sighs in agreement. "I know I know. Our names are one thing... horrible, but they wanted to honor our grandparents...”

The class makes a confused sound and Nathaniel is the fastest to speak up.

“I don't understand.” The voice loud enough just for a quiet room to hear. "Adrien's mother's name is Emilie, Lois may be his mother-in-law's name and Clark the father-in-law's name..." He pauses thoughtfully. “Why Auguste? Shouldn't it be Gabriel?”

At the sound of the name, newcomers, Chloe, Marinette and even Adrien himself react negatively, leaving no doubt of the dislike of the designer.

"Because Gabriel never was and never will be a father to uncle Adrien." Aria replies.

Nino nods in agreement with the girl.

“… Ok, I understand where you come from. But who is Auguste?” He asks. “I don't remember anyone with that name Adrien commented on.”

The blonde gives a bland laugh before looking at the DJ.

"It's because I never speak his name, but you know him... the gorilla."

Nino widens his eyes at the news, but soon understanding dawns on his face. It made sense. The man cared more for Adrien than his own father, who could only look at his belly button.

"Wait!" Alya calls. “Gorilla's name is Auguste?” Adrien nods and she presses her palm over her face. “Oh my god, this is cursed! He doesn't look like an Auguste!”

Emilie releases Adrien to fly over his head.

"I know! I once told him that and he laughed at me!” Her hand movements were wild.

It makes Alya pale.

"He laughed. Adrien's bodyguard laughed. Oh my God."

Lila gets fed up with the situation and decides to return the conversation to where it mattered. She needed to know who Adrien's future wife was, just so she could make sure they never met. With Gabriel's help, of course.

He might have been arrested, but he still had... powers over Adrien.

“We already understood that part, but you never told us who your mother was.”

Emilie freezes in the air, the cheerful, happy air slipping into an empty shell. She sits back behind Adrien, her gaze hard on the Italian.

“Because I don't have a mother.” She responds and Lila had to control the happy smile that wanted to escape. “I have two dads. Adrien Agreste and Jonathan Samuel Kent.”

The air in the room becomes cold after she finishes speaking. Lila never felt as much hatred as she did then.

Adrien was hers. Just hers. Knowing he was married to a man in the future was too much for the girl.

“B-but how? I thought Adrien was straight. We all know he dated Kagami.” Mylene asks.

Adrien frowns at the girl. Not a bit happy.

"I never said I was straight or that Kagami and I were dating." His voice was dry. “Kagami and Chloe have been together since last year, Jon and I have been dating since I was fifteen. Four years ago."

Alya gives Marinette unhappy glances, as if pitying the girl for the news. But in the end, she notices that the brunette was not at all surprised or shaken.

"And about you? Who is your father?” She points to Aria, who raises an eyebrow at her. The mockery in all body expression. "We know you're Marinette's daughter because we heard you call her mother, but you didn't say who your father was."

Aria rolls her eyes and sighs, completely tired of having to deal with these people. They were very ignorant.

"Aria Dupain-Cheng Wayne-" Surprised sighs are heard.

“And Jiàn Dupain-Cheng Wayne. We are children of Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Damian Al-Ghul Wayne. There is Thomas too, but he was with Alfred and the Couffaine siblings when we... traveled back in time.” Jiàn cuts his sister, making a sardonic bow toward Alya.

Marinette was choking as she tried to hold back a scream.

Those were her children! There were three! She and Damian had been together for many, many years! Her heart was beating so fast that she feared everyone in the room would be able to hear.

“… Damian Wayne. Isn't that the name of your boyfriend, Lila?” Juleka says suddenly and everyone looks at the Italian trying to sneak out of the classroom.

She stops, knowing everyone was keeping an eye on her and turning around, her eyes full of tears.

It was time to put on a show.

"M-Marinette!" She sniffs. “How can you go so low stealing my Damiboo from me?! I thought you were better!” The hands cover her face and shoulders begin to shake, as if she’s crying.

"WHA-"

“My God, girl!” Alya shouts angrily as she approaches Lila once more. Alix, Mylene, and Kim did not move from the scene. “Stealing Lila's boyfriend? As if it wasn't enough to be an envious slut-

Jiàn turns the face so fast that Rie can hear the young man's bones crack. The face contorted into a murderous expression.

“I suggest you not finish this sentence, otherwise I will be forced to do something my parents wouldn't approve of.”

Lila pulls her hands away from her face looking at the boy in defiance.

"What? But it's true! First Adrien, now my Damiboo. Your mother is a bitc-” Before Lila could finish the sentence, Jiàn was in front of her. Alya pushed aside, along with the phone that fell to the floor.

His right hand goes straight to Lila's face, squeezing her chin as he forces her to face him. He didn't need to look at the look of horror on her face to know that anger and disgust were clear in his eyes.

“You're an unpleasant person, Lila Rossi.” He says. “Even though you know you have nowhere to run, that you only have those futile idiots to control, you still try to play the wronged good girl.”

Adrien gets up from the chair, Marinette approaches and Chloe too.

“Jiàn, I think-”

Aria puts her hand on Marinette's shoulder, drawing the girl's attention back to her. "No. He won't hurt her... physically.”

“But-” Adrien protests.

“Dad, please. In the future you regret not stopping her before. Let Jiàn do it.” Emilie says seriously. The most serious she had been until that moment.

When Marinette and Adrien steps back, the class sees this as allowing newcomers to do whatever they want, so they run to Lila's rescue. Alya quickly rising from the floor, the phone forgotten.

"Let her go now!" Kim shouts. He tries to hit Jiàn with a punch, but Rie is quick to stop him.

"And why would i do that? Ms. Volpina here, did much worse things helping Hawkmoth.” Lila widens her eyes, the panic clear in her face.

"I-I"

“What was that little fox? No more lies to tell us? Are you afraid because you can no longer use akumas to get rid of difficult situations?” The sarcasm in Jiàn's voice was clear, as was the acidity.

Everyone saw the way Lila stopped trying to defend herself and her gaze became sharp. Malicious. Jiàn took this to get away from the girl. She took the time to straighten her hair and caress her jaw before a blatant smile took over her expression.

Alya felt the ice run down her spine, discomfort rolling in her stomach. She stepped back, trying to create distance.

The class reacting precisely the same.

“Oh? Do you really think I need some old man and cursed butterflies to get what I want?” Rose choked on the way Lila spoke. “Look at what we have here. Come on, look!” She shakes her hands, signaling around them.

“I managed to fool these people for years. YEARS! No one doubting a word of what I was saying. Even with the most trusted person in the class trying to warn of my tricks, they just ignored it. They treated her like trash, they threw her into a corner... They humiliated her.” Mylene cried and Ivan tried to comfort her.

“And I didn't even have to do anything much, just say what they wanted to hear.” There was a victorious smile on the Italian's face. “Hawkmoth was just a tool. I never needed him to get where I got.” She nodded dismissively.

“So, you lied to us all this time?” Alix growls, Kim having to hold her so she doesn't hit Lila.

The Italian raised an eyebrow, smiling as if nothing was wrong.

"Alix, Alix ... You guys were so naive." Lila sighs theatrically. “I mean, dumb. Ignorant. Easy. Fools. I think you were by far the easiest people to manipulate.” She shrugs.

“You… are the worst! I don't believe-” Nathaniel stops and shakes his head violently, trying to deal with the situation.

“Ow, poor thing.” Lila sneers. “Okay, I was a little harsh with my words. It was not entirely your fault. Caline Bustier played a huge part in all this, since without her passivity, I would probably have been discovered much earlier.”

Marinette cringes at the teacher's name.

Caline had gone from being Marinette's favorite teacher to the less pleasant one. The woman's pacifism gave the brunette knots in her stomach. Each time she heard the phrase “be an example to others,” the discomfort washed over her body and all Marinette could think about was running home and sleeping for an entire week.

She knew that Lila's era of terror in her life would not have stretched so long had it not been for Caline Bustier's incompetence. Just with the teacher checking Lila's medical notes to know that everything the girl said she suffered was true would suffice. Then all the other lies would be uncovered, like a crumbling house of cards.

But she never did. Not even when Marinette explicitly expressed her concerns. When Adrien took the courage to confess that he felt bad about Lila being overly sticky. Or when Sabrina wept on the teacher's shoulder that Lila had made mean comments about her mother. And also, when Chloe denounced the Italian for homophobia.

Caline Bustier had been complacent. Never moving a finger to help students. Thus, Lila Rossi's greatest facilitator in Dupont.

“Ms. Bustier has nothing to do with it!” Juleka shouts in distress.

It was the first time they had seen her like that.

Lila rolls her eyes.

"Of course she have! Or do you really think that an adult woman with a master's degree, teacher, who deals with children and teens daily for years, would believe everything you say?” Her voice was annoying. “Please, you deify totally wrong people. Where's the critical sense? No one here can see the world without the pink lenses?!”

As soon as Lila finishes speaking, the room was silent. Rose and Juleka had twin expressions of disbelief, Alya cried silently, Nino tried to find support in Nathaniel who was unsure what to do, Kim along with Alix and Max had angry expressions on their faces, Mylene and Ivan hugged tightly to each other.

Aria with her arms around Marinette, both with expressions of pure boredom. Chloe and Rie had sat at Adrien's desk throughout the confrontation, tired of Lila's villain speech. Jian, already away from the Italian, was arms crossed and raised eyebrow. Adrien was the only one in the second group who was minimally disturbed by Lila's words. Clark slept despite all the confusion and Emilie had stolen the model's phone to play while flying around the room.

Lila had a victorious expression on her face as if the speech had solved all her problems.

Oh man. If only she knew.

"Did you get everything?" Marinette says in the silence of the class and everyone looks at her.

“What-” Lila begins.

"I'm not talking to you." The girl cuts her off, her expression disinterested and voice like steel. “I'm talking to him.” Marinette picks up the phone (which has never left her hands since newcomers showed up in the classroom) and shakes it, showing a video call in progress.

“Of course, حبيبتي (habibat).” The person in the video call answers. A youngster. "We are on our way. Don't let her run away.” The call is cut off and Marinette puts the phone in her hoodie pocket.

She stares at Lila. The cold, deadly eyes. Like a predator about to pounce.

“Of course I won't let it. Not anymore.” There was a dangerous smile on her lips. “It's my time to go after you, Li-la! Change our dynamics. Threatening me in the dark corners of the school is getting outdated, so it's time for prey to become a predator, don't you think?”

Lila senses the danger in the girl's words and steps back without thinking. She keeps a brave expression.

“And what do you think you are going to do? Tell your little friend?” She forces a mocking laugh. “Please, Dupain-Cheng. You know you can't against me. Never could.”

Aria lets go of Marinette and the girl slowly makes her way to the Italian, without breaking eye contact for a second. She was waiting for an opening to be able to make her move.

“Are you sure about that, Lila Agnola Rossi?” Lila doesn't hold her breath at the full name. “Because I have a lot of material against you. Your mother helped us a lot. A nice woman, despite working so hard. She needs to rest, don't you think?”

Marinette stops, less than a foot from the Italian, before leaning further. Warm breath hitting Lila's face with how close they were.

“And she said everything, you know? About how you lied about school being closed by akuma attacks, about being bullied and how your boyfriend Adrien Agreste-“ The boy and Emilie make sounds of disgust. "Are considering asking you to marry at graduation!"

Chloe sneers in the background. Aria, Jiàn and Rie laughing at what she said.

“When you-” Lila's lips were pale and her eyes wide.

Marinette leaps away. A smile bordering the maniac on her face.

“You don't know how surprised she was when we said the school was never closed!” She spins, arms raised to the ceiling. "Or that Adrien Agreste has a boyfriend."

“YOU DID WHAT?!” Lila shouted, advancing on Marinette, only to be held back by the hard look the girl sent toward her.

“Imagine the other surprise she had to learn that her little girl was a compulsive and abusive liar? That the only child she gave birth was lying as she breathed? Lila, Lila. Lying about Jagged was your first mistake, Prince Ali the second. The third was about Ladybug.” Marinette lifts a finger at Alya who reacted to the heroine's name. The girl stops. "Ladybug was not at all happy to hear her name was being dragged through the mud by someone as dirty as you."

Lila swallows hard.

“And sweetie? She wants you to pay. Pay for all the times you helped Hawkmoth and endangered innocent people or badmouthed her kitten.” Chloe laughs at Adrien's red face. “She's a very protective bug, you know? Revengeful too.”

"Is this a threat? Is that it? Ladybug sent you to threaten me?” Lila questions.

Marinette crosses her arms, a dark shadow taking over her blueberry eyes.

"Lila, I don't need Ladybug to take you down." She sighs bored. “Who do you think ended Gabriel Agreste?” The students are surprised. The newcomers sat watching like it was a very good movie. Adrien with the biggest smile ever.

“… You're lying!” Lila shouts. “Gabriel was caught by a… anonymous… report… you?!” The voice trailed off until all that was left was a whisper.

"Me." Marinette smiles.

There was a fire burning in Lila's eyes, her teeth showing, a growl deep in her throat.

"How could you?!" She bites. “You destroyed Adrien's life! How could you do this for the boy you love?!”

"Hey! She didn't destroy my life!” Adrien protests in the background, but no one listens to him.

“Ah, please! You're only annoyed because you learned that it was me who destroyed the collar Adrien was kept on and forced to wear. Or do you really believe we didn't know you and Gabriel had a deal about controlling Adrien?” Lila shivers as if she's been shocked. “We know everything. Everything."

“And you went there and put the only family he had in prison. Congratulations Marinette. You have reached a new low level.”

No one blinks for the next scene.

Marinette stretches her left hand straight to Lila's neck, pulling the girl closer to her.

"You don't open that dirty mouth to talk about family." She growls. “That man was nothing more than a piece of shit. Trash to be thrown away. He was never a father or a decent man. Being arrested was the easiest way out for him, because if I could have the opportunity to get my hands on him, you can be sure that today Adrien would have both parents buried.”

Her voice was piercing. Ice spread through the room. Everyone felt the honesty in the girl's words, no hesitation. Lila clamped her hands on Marinette's wrist, trying in vain to pull away.

She was beginning to be terrified of Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

"Let me go." She gasped as she felt the tightness in her neck tighten.

“Adrien hasn't lost a family.” Marinette ignores the girl. Adrien puts Clark in Aria's arms before getting up. He needed to stop that.

“Just now he got one. My parents are keen to make clear what family love really means; Auguste continues to work with him even though he no longer needs it; I taught him what a toxic and abusive relationship was like, how to have siblings and people to support him; Chloe accompanied him for weekly therapy; Kagami and Luka distracted him from panic attacks; Sabrina helped him understand what sexual harassment was. We were all there when he spent weeks locked in his room crying thinking he had no one else. We introduce him to what a family is. And surprise, he's much happier now.” Marinette lets go of Lila's throat and the girl swallowed huge amounts of air.

"He's much better off living in a bakery than in a ghost-filled mansion and empty rooms with people who only knew how to exploit him."

As soon as Marinette finishes talking, Adrien hugs the girl and then the door opens.

“We're here, Minette!” Sabrina's cheerful voice tears the oppressive silence of the room. "And I brought company."

Everyone turned to look at Sabrina and found a lot more people at the door than they thought.

“Dad, Damian, Jon and Kagami have come! Lu and Bruce are there at the office talking to the Director and Ms. Rossi.”

As soon as the five enter the room, Aria rushes into Damian's arms. “بابا! (baba!) You're cuter than 妈妈 (māmā) at this age!”

“… You two are grounded.” It's the only thing Damian says, pointing to Jiàn who was approaching.

“Dad!” Emilie squeals at Jonathan, who just smiles in confusion. “Oh my god, he's so cute! Did you see, papa ?!” She yells at Adrien who hides the red face on Marinette's shoulder.

The girl laughs at him patting his back.

"マ マ (mama)." Rie says respectfully as Kagami looks at her and Chloe sitting at the table.

"... I'm feeling a headache coming." Roger mutters before putting Agent Raincomprix's face and looking at Lila. “Ms. Rossi, I need you to come with me. We have some questions to ask.”

Lila shakes her head in refusal.

"No. I have nothing to talk to you about. Nothing."

Roger sighs. “If you do not come for good, you will come for bad. I really don't want to use force with you.”

"I do not care! I won't go with you!” Lila’s voice rose two octaves. She was starting to get hysterical.

“Ms. Rossi.”

"No! I'm not—” Lila rolls her eyes closed before falling hard to the floor. Marinette stood behind her, the hand with fingers pressed together and the thumb bent. Like a knife.

She relaxes her posture and smiles innocently.

“To avoid more drama.”

Damian sighs. “حبيبتي (habibat).”

She continues to smile innocently.

First Hawkmoth, then Gabriel and now Lila. That was a great way to close a chapter in Marinette's life.

[tag list]

@poshplumcot​ @naclychilli​ @theatreandcomicfreak​ @mewwitch​ @zerotosiki​ @krispydefendorpolice @unmaskedagain​  @virgil-is-a-cutie​ @vixen-uchiha​ @dawnwave16​  @kat-thatoneweirdo​ @thedarkwhiteangel @paradoxal-occurance​ @heldtogetherbysafetypins​ @celestialtitania​ @bluerosette23​

[chocoluckchipz]

The Other You - 22

Read it on A03, FF.net, WattPad

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It didn’t make sense. 

His head spun, the burning feeling in his chest intensifying with every passing moment.

It shouldn’t make sense!

Missing someone who was probably happy he was out of her life shouldn’t even exist as a concept. 

It wasn’t fair! 

She made him suffer like never before. She took his heart and trampled on it without a care in the world. Granted, he wasn’t all that innocent himself, but all he wanted was to help her. Why couldn’t she see that? 

Yes, he wasn’t perfect. But she wasn’t either. Just look where he found her those few months back. At the end of her wits and her humanity. And yet he still recognized the goodness hidden deep inside her, accepted and loved her with all her peculiarities and flaws which weren’t many but still… Why couldn’t she do the same for him? Was he that unlovable?

Why did it take her so long to think about it? What was there even to think about? She either wanted him or she didn’t.

Adrien gritted his teeth, his fists tightening.

And why did he have to be the one stuck loving someone who couldn’t care less about him? He’d never asked to be so “lucky”.

Lump in his throat, he closed his eyes, trying to ignore the force that gripped his heart.

“You gonna sleep anytime soon?” Plagg grumbled from his bed. “I thought alcohol was supposed to knock you out, not make you even more restless.”

“Maybe I didn’t drink enough,” Adrien grunted and tried to sit up. “I’ll go get some more.”

“No!” Plagg zoomed to his face and glared. “You’ve had more than enough. Go to bed. Sleep it off.”

“But, Plagg. I’m sure a little more will help me forget—"

“Bed!” Plagg hissed. “Or I’m going to go get Ladybug and let her deal with you and your childish ways. Would you like that?”

Adrien pouted and plopped back onto his bed, covering himself with a blanket up to his head. “You’re so mean. I should’ve given you away too.”

“You should’ve,” Plagg grumbled, flying back to his spot. “But, since you didn’t, deal with it like a man. Not an overgrown baby.” 

“I am a man, unlike someone." Adrien stuck out his tongue in Plagg's general direction and turned away, his eyes falling on the lucky charm Marinette once gave him on his nightstand. 

Why hadn't he thrown it out yet? 

He grabbed the string of beads and froze, the coolness of the material burning his palm.

Oh. Yes… Because he still loved her. Because he was still hoping she’d give him another chance.

Bringing the charm close to his chest, he curled in on himself, memories of Marinette vibrant in his mind. The evenings they spent together, those delicious meals she cooked just for him, video game competitions, bantering and joking around… The kiss they had shared, the softness of her lips, her scent… The feeling of her delicate skin under his fingers haunted his dreams on a nightly basis. She was his warmth. She was his light. His hope for a brighter future. She was his everything.

And he lost her.

He was so happy with her. Happy and loved and accepted. He was always welcomed and cherished at her home. At least he felt like he was… 

Was it all an illusion? 

Did he imagine it all?

The cursed lump in his throat grew bigger, making it hard for him to breathe. Adrien bit into his lip trying to suppress the tears that threatened to fall. 

Gosh, he missed her so much! 

He’d never missed anyone this badly. 

Nothing had hurt him more than the absence of Marinette.

He wished she’d make up her mind already, whichever way it went, because uncertainty was killing him. The wait was quickly becoming unbearable.

“Listen, kid.” Plagg snuck under his blanket and cuddled to his chest. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes because this is getting ridiculous. I know you’re hurting but you can’t let anger and despair overtake you. Sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“I’m fine—”

A low rumble rolled against his chest. Adrien froze.

“Are you—”

“In your dreams! See? Alcohol’s getting to you. You’re hallucinating already. Go to sleep!”

Adrien quietly chuckled and cuddled Plagg closer. What a bad liar he was. Always refusing to admit he cared for Adrien. He shouldn’t deny that, though. Adrien loved his grumpy, cheese-obsessed kwami of destruction too much for his own good. Plagg didn't even have to threaten the destruction of Paris if Adrien were to surrender his miraculous to Marinette. Adrien wasn't even entertaining the idea in the first place. 

Closing his eyes, Adrien let Plagg’s purring lure him to relax, sleep slowly overtaking him.

Good. 

He needed to sleep. 

He had to forget. 

Perhaps, move on. 

Get over Marinette.

He must…

He wasn’t sure he ever would. 

***

Every muscle in his body hurt. 

So did his head. 

He could’ve drunk an ocean if given the chance. 

He had to get up for that.

Adrien groaned, shifting in his bed, immediately regretting ever moving.

Perhaps getting drunk wasn’t the best of his ideas. He had to try, though, because binging anime and stuffing himself with junk food for days in a row didn’t help him forget or ease the pain. It didn't make waiting for her decision any easier either. He thought alcohol would do the trick, but it seemed all it did was intensify his already messed-up emotions for the evening, gifting him nothing but a headache and misery in the morning. 

Bad choice. He’d think twice before going down that road again.

His stomach growled.

Plagg grumbled beside him. “Make it stop. It’s impossible to sleep with that earthquake in your belly. Go feed yourself or something. Don’t touch my beloved.”

Adrien closed his eyes for a moment. Perhaps he should put something in his stomach. Surely, he can still find something edible in the kitchen.

But water first.

Then, painkillers.

Adrien slowly got up, somehow stumbling to his en-suite. Splashing cold water on his face, he shuffled to the kitchen and rummaged through the cupboards. The dangerously sugary American cereal box was empty. Frozen waffles were gone. Ice cream didn’t appeal at the moment. A single egg and a few bacon strips lay on the top shelf in the fridge. Perhaps he could fry those. Marinette taught him once how to do that. 

Painkiller first, though. And some water. He was dying of thirst.

“Don’t burn the house down.” Plagg flew into the kitchen as soon as Adrien cracked the egg into the frying pan.

“I’m not that hopeless,” Adrien deadpanned, the painkiller, thank heaven, starting to work. 

“Sure,” Plagg mocked him, heading straight for his Camembert stash. 

Adrien should probably buy him more. If he remembered correctly there was only one wheel left. Surprisingly, Plagg wasn’t complaining yet. Just as he surprisingly had yet to…  

“You know, I’m impressed. It’s been a few days and you’ve yet to nag me with ‘I told you so’.”

Plagg yawned, cradling a wedge of Camembert in his paws. “Should I?”  

“Well, yes. You did warn me. I didn’t listen and look where we are now. So, go ahead—lecture me all you want. I deserve it.”

“Kid, I’m the kwami of destruction, not a heartless monster. I’m not about to kick you when you’re already down.”

“Maybe if you lectured me more, I’d stay out of trouble.” 

“You’ve had enough lecturing from your father for three lifetimes. Did it help? Give yourself a break. You’re human. You’re bound to make mistakes.”

Adrien didn’t answer, turning his attention to the pan. The egg started to whiten, so he salted and peppered it just like Marinette had shown him, and stared at it intently until it was time to flip it over. Once it was ready, he transferred it to a plate and started on the bacon. 

“Do you regret it?” 

“Regret what?”

“Getting involved in all of this.”

Adrien had never thought about it but if he had to give an answer… “Only that it didn’t work out between us. But otherwise, no. I can’t say I regret anything.”

Plagg quirked an eyebrow. “How come?”

Adrien shrugged, flipping the bacon. “We helped someone in a bad situation get back on their feet. And not just Marinette. A whole lot of people at Gabriel as well. I can’t regret that. Yeah, I got hurt, but I’m sure Marinette’s hurting more. Finding out it was me, going behind her back again, all while I knew she didn’t want me getting involved… She must be thinking I didn’t think she could do this. I must have totally destroyed whatever little trust she had in me.” He paused for a moment, his eyes focused on the bacon in his pan, but seeing nothing, his vision starting to blur. “I was stupid. I should’ve… I don’t know, done something differently, right? Perhaps—"

“Don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying.”

“How do you still have tears in you? You’ve been bawling your eyes out for days.”

“Plagg, I’m not—”

“Your bacon’s burning.”

Adrien quickly swallowed the lump in his throat, taking the slightly too-crisp bacon out of the pan. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm down and get a grip. 

In and out.

This was normal. Just another stage in his grieving process. He had a right to grieve. Because despite Marinette leaving him a message in which she apologized for her reaction to his reveal and asked for time to pull herself together, make sense of everything, and to think about her feelings and what she wanted to do next, Adrien felt that the battle was already lost. That tiny flickering of hope that still burned in his chest was growing smaller with each passing day, and soon he’d have to admit that he had lost both of them: Marinette, the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and Ladybug, his best friend and partner for a decade. He had a right to mourn that. 

Adrien headed to the washroom to splash some more water on his face and compose himself. A mess of a human being, a far cry from his former, glorious supermodel-self, looked at him from the mirror. Adrien closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing.

He had to get a hold of his emotions.

He couldn’t be like this forever. 

He had to move on.

He would move on!

Unless she’d want him back…

Who was he kidding? His own father didn't want him and he’d done nothing but obeyed Gabriel his whole life. Why would Marinette want him after he’d repeatedly broken her trust and her heart? So, he’d better start working on getting over her with a proper meal of bacon and eggs instead of whatever garbage he’d been surviving on the last few days. 

Five minutes later he was settling down at the table, a look of uncertainty in his eyes as he beheld his meal. It looked nothing like what Marinette would’ve made. The egg seemed decent, but the bacon was half-burned. He cut a little of the egg and tasted it, grimacing right away. Way too salty. Not enough pepper. A bit pathetic. 

Just like him.

“Don’t worry. Not everything’s lost yet,” Plagg said, plopping on the table in front of him. “She hasn’t replied to your letter yet, so you never know. Maybe she’ll fly to your side soon enough with a pot of steaming stew and a warm pie in her hands and all will be great again.”

“Seriously?” Adrien glared at Plagg. “Not everything in this life is about food, Plagg.”

“Yeah, tell yourself that when there is a meal made by Marinette in front of you on the table.”

Adrien let out a disapproving grunt and pushed away his plate. “I’m nothing but a nuisance. She’ll be better off without me.”

“That’s your depression talking,” Plagg grumbled. “We’ve been over this already multiple times, and I'm not singing your praises again. Better get yourself together and get outside. That’ll do you some good.”

Adrien mentally protested. He didn’t want to go anywhere!

“Adrien,” Plagg kept on nagging. “I get that you’re hurting but you can’t bury yourself here. You have Gabriel to take care of and don't forget your teaching job is starting again in a few weeks.”

“I know,” Adrien grumbled, taking his plate and throwing the barely touched food out. It wasn’t edible anyway. “Not today, though. I don’t feel like it.”

Plagg flew right in Adrien’s face and grabbed him by his nose. “You’ll never feel like it if you don’t push yourself to change something. Go outside. You need fresh air. Meet with a friend. Give it some time, kid. It’ll get better. It will. I promise. But only if you stop burying yourself alive.”

A short moment later a soft sigh escaped his lips as Adrien cradled Plagg in his palms, bringing him to his chest for a hug. “Thanks, Plagg. I’ll try. For you.”

He did his best. Adrien forced himself to shower, wear something apart from his oversized t-shirt and lounge pants, and go shopping for groceries. Then, he called Nino and rescheduled the lunch he’d canceled yesterday for Tuesday. He even cleaned his apartment, going as far as packing all things related to Marinette in a separate box, kicking himself again and again for still hoping she’d forgive him. It was pathetic, he knew that. But he couldn’t just order his heart to stop loving the girl he’d been in love with for almost half of his life. No one could do that in a matter of days.

In the evening, Adrien transformed and ran a few laps around the city to unwind as fast as he could, making sure to stick to darker areas in case Ladybug was out. Marinette did ask him to give her time and space, but that didn’t mean Chat Noir had to disappear. Adrien just couldn’t do that. He loved being Chat Noir. He loved the freedom, the rush, the adrenaline it allowed him. It did wonders for his physical and mental health, and in his current condition, it would’ve been awfully stupid of him to give that up. So after much deliberation with Plagg, he’d figured that as long as he could make it quick enough to avoid being detected, he should be fine.

Standing atop the Eiffel Tower at the end of his run was exhilarating. Chat breathed in deeply and closed his eyes, taking in the muffled noise of the city below. He’d never be able to give this up. With a slight smile on his lips, he quietly bid farewell to the view and sprinted back home.

“What’s for dinner?” Plagg yawned as Adrien dropped his transformation upon entering his apartment. “I’m starving.”

“Your cheese is in the fridge.”

“And you?”

Adrien shrugged. “Not hungry.”

“You’ve got to eat, kid.”

“Later.”

Adrien plopped on his sofa and stared at the ceiling. His mind somewhat clearer after the run, he tried to think about what his next move should be. Were Marinette to kick him to the curb, adjustments in his life would be necessary to make. Chat Noir, for example, would have to go out in secret and as little as possible, and Adrien Agreste would have to sell his Gabriel shares and go back to teaching physics to a bunch of teenagers in a few weeks.

Adrien shifted, turning to lie on his stomach. Unexpectedly even to him, he had kind of taken a liking to Gabriel as of late. He’d always liked solving problems and once he got over the initial shock of being a CEO of a fashion empire, Adrien realized that running it was just a huge puzzle to be solved. And he liked puzzles. All he had to do was learn the rules of this particular one and the rest came to him naturally. 

One of the things Adrien especially enjoyed was seeing how his changes transformed Gabriel into an effective and comfortable workplace, a far cry from the state his father had left it in. Its employees these days looked happier, less stressed, and more confident than ever, improving their output and the quality of their work as a result. Quitting slowly stopped. They had even hired new people recently, and Adrien predicted that after Fashion Week’s success, they’d easily be able to replace all of the people who left with qualified professionals. 

He shifted again. Back on his back, he covered his face with his hands. The last thing he wanted now was to sell Gabriel off to some random stranger who might be looking at it as a money-making machine instead of the living, breathing organism requiring love and care that it was. Perhaps, he could interview the potential buyers himself and try to figure out who would be the best fit for the company. It wouldn’t even be about the money. Adrien had a decent salary from his teaching job and had inherited a fortune from his father, large enough for a few lifetimes. He’d have to talk to his lawyer first and see what options he had. Because if Marinette wouldn't want him in her life, he’d have no choice but to sell. He doubted she’d want to see him at her workplace, even if once in a while. He wasn’t sure he could handle that either.

His stomach growled for the umpteenth time. Plagg nagged him again. Adrien groaned and got up. Dinner it was, no matter how much he dreaded it.

He shuffled to the kitchen and opened one of the cupboards, taking out the last package of cup noodles. Kettle on, he glanced into the fridge. He’d forgotten to buy pre-packaged salads again. Oh well, not the first time. The water boiled. Adrien poured it into his noodles and sat at the table, waiting for them to cook. He wrapped his palms around the cup to warm them up. 

“Plagg?”

“Trying to sleep.”

Adrien let a puff of air out. “Good night, Plagg.”

The kwami muttered something incomprehensible in return as Adrien peeled the cover off the noodle cup and picked up his fork. Tasteless and gooey. Mushy in places and hard in others. He didn’t enjoy them; he never did, but they were enough to survive on and that was all that mattered.

He shoved one more bite into his mouth and chewed. Marinette would never eat this. She’d cook something and no matter how simple or extravagant the dish was, it’d taste divine. His mouth watered at just the thought. 

Their banter was even better than their meals. Marinette was always a great conversation companion, having tons of stories and opinions. 

She was smart and funny. She made him laugh like he’d never laughed before. She was sassy and always had a comeback for every one of his smart remarks. She wore her heart on her sleeve. Her face, her voice, her body language always softened when she talked about her loved ones. And her passion? Excitement would be palpable in the air as she told him over and over again all about her designs and everything related to them. At moments like those, she shone her brightest. 

He wiped away a tear. Another one slipped out of his other eye. Adrien put the fork down and pushed the noodles away. 

He couldn’t stomach them anymore. 

A glass of water didn't help and once again, he went through his bedtime routine on autopilot, hiding under his comforter right after. Her lucky charm clutched in his fist, Adrien swaddled himself in his sheets. His eyes drooping closed, he hugged his pillow close, finally letting his tears roll freely. 

He’d get over her one day. 

He knew that. 

That day, however, hadn’t arrived yet. 

***

Monday morning, Adrien contacted his lawyer and set up a meeting for that afternoon. An hour before their appointment, his lawyer called to reschedule, saying he had a family emergency and wouldn’t be able to meet up with Adrien until at least Wednesday. 

The next few days, Adrien spent doing nothing in particular. At Plagg’s insistence, he got out of the apartment to take walks around the city and snuck out as Chat Noir after dark. He met Nino for lunch on Tuesday, discovering, much to his surprise, that Nino seemed to be blissfully unaware of anything going awry between Adrien and Marinette. He even invited Adrien to Alya’s birthday celebration in a few weeks, which Marinette was certain to attend as well. Adrien didn’t refuse, only mentioning that he might have to stay away if Marinette wasn’t comfortable with him, to which Nino replied that based on what he’d heard from Alya, Marinette shouldn’t have any issues with him attending.

On Wednesday at two o’clock, Adrien sat down with his lawyer in a VIP lounge of his favourite restaurant to brainstorm ideas and possible courses of action regarding a potential Gabriel sale. 

After about an hour, both men concluded that to fully grasp all the peculiarities of the situation, they had to consult a few other professionals in the area. 

“I’ll let you know what my accountant suggests in a few days.” The lawyer stood up. “Now, I must apologize and depart.”

“I hope your wife gets better soon,” Adrien said, shaking the man’s hand. “Can’t imagine how hard it must be for your family right now.”

“Thank you. The doctor’s prognosis is promising so we’re hoping for the best. I’ll see you soon, Adrien.” The man was about to depart when he remembered something and, opening one of his folders, pulled out a white envelope. “I was asked to give this to you by one of your employees.”

Adrien quirked an eyebrow. “Oh? Who?”

“I don’t know. I just stopped by your office to pick up a few documents before our meeting on Monday and some girl came in looking for you. I mentioned I’d be seeing you later that day, so she gave it to me but then…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Adrien put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Go to your wife. She needs you more than I do right now.”

“Thank you,” the lawyer gave him a smile and put the letter in his hands before departing. 

Adrien sat down and opened the envelope, pulling out a single sheet of paper with cursive handwriting on it. 

His heart skipped a beat. 

He knew that writing. 

He knew who put little hearts over all the ‘i’s. 

He’d waited for it. He knew it was coming, but now that Marinette’s reply was in his hands, Adrien didn’t know what to feel or do or say or even think. One way or another, whatever she wrote in there would change his world. Without much thinking, Adrien read.

 “Hello, Adrien.

I apologize for taking such a long time to reply, but I didn’t want to rush into anything. I wanted to be absolutely sure of what I’m about to say, so I had to really think this through. I’m also sorry for writing a letter instead of coming to you face to face, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to say everything I want to tell you in person. I’m not sure if you’re still willing to listen to me. So, a letter it is. I hope that’s okay with you.

Before I start, though, I wanted to thank you for your letter and for telling me the whole truth. I really appreciate it. I think it would be fair for me to share all of my secrets with you as well, just like you did.

I guess, technically, I have only one, but it seems to be big enough to cause all of this commotion. Because you see, I wasn’t avoiding Adrien because I hated him. I was running away because I was falling back in love with him—”

 Adrien froze. 

Did he read that right?

He reread the sentence a few more times.

She was falling back in love with him?

She didn’t hate him?

SHE LOVED HIM???

 “… I  was running away because I was falling back in love with him, and I couldn’t afford for that to happen. I loved Chat Noir. I was dating Chat Noir. I couldn't and didn't want to be unfaithful. 

I do admit, I’ve spent years hating you for what happened back in the day. When you reappeared in my life, I still despised you; but then, I slowly started to see who you really are and what I saw wasn’t the vicious, petty man I’d painted in my mind. You were kind and protective, someone who made a mistake following his good intentions and sincerely regretted it. I must admit I didn’t handle that situation in the best way, for which I’m sincerely regretful. That’s why I didn’t want to rush into anything. I don’t want to repeat my mistakes and hurt you again.

After we talked about the past and made our apologies, I was starting to think that maybe we could be friends again. The day you took me out for lunch was the day I understood that ‘just a friend’ and ‘Adrien Agreste’ weren’t compatible in my head or my heart. I either had to hate you or fall in love with you. That wasn’t fair to Chat Noir who’d waited years for me to get my life together. I loved him. I couldn’t betray him. That’s why I pushed him to confess to Ladybug. That’s why I revealed myself. I thought if I was dating Chat Noir, my attraction and longing for Adrien would vanish. 

I was wrong. Terribly so. Chat was pulling away and at the same time Adrien had become so irresistibly sweet and kind, and I just couldn't keep myself in check anymore. A little more and I don't know what would've happened. That’s why I ran. Not from you, Adrien. From my feelings. That’s why I said all of those hurtful things at the gala. You told me as Ladybug that you loved Marinette. So, I thought if Marinette were awful to you, if she cut you out of her life completely and destroyed all hopes for a relationship, then you’d move on to someone else and my feelings for you would slowly disappear. 

I'm so sorry for my actions that night. You didn't deserve what I put you through. My only excuse is that I was desperate to stay faithful to Chat, but even so, I crossed too many lines in my blind quest and I hope I’ll be able to apologize properly to you one day.

And then, when you revealed yourself, I was so shocked I couldn’t move or talk or even think straight. I know I hurt you. I swear I wanted to go find you, but Tikki stopped me and, to be honest, I’m grateful to her for that. She said you deserved an answer to your question the next time we met, and that night I didn’t have one for you. If I had found you that night, I would’ve rushed into something neither of us might have been ready for, or I might have hurt both of us again. I don't know what would’ve happened, but I want to get it right this time, so I had to step back, calm down, and think about it all.

I do have an answer for you now if you still want to hear it, and I’m 100% certain of what I’m about to say. 

Can I look at Adrien and tell him I love him just as much as Chat Noir?

Yes, I can. 

I love you, Adrien. 

 He sucked in the air, his breathing halting. Heart threatening to jump out of his chest, Adrien couldn't keep a smile off his face. 

She loved him. 

She loved him! 

HIM! 

LOVED!!!

Adrien reread the last four words a thousand times before proceeding.

 All of you. 

The one who’s been by my side all of these years as my loyal partner and the one whom I’ve so unfairly doubted and cruelly hurt.

Adrien, I can’t even begin to express how thankful I am for our masks right now. Without them, I would've never spent years getting to know you as Chat Noir and never would’ve come to see the real you—the man beneath my biases and assumptions. Without the masks, I would've never fallen in love with your beautiful soul and your overwhelmingly kind heart. There is no doubt in my mind that you’re a good person, Adrien. The best one I’ve ever met.

I know I can trust you. 

With my life and with my heart. 

If you still want it.

So, there. That’s my secret. I’m leaving it up to you now. If you think we should give us another try, I’m more than willing to. I’m sure it won’t be easy, and we’ll have to learn to communicate and stop keeping secrets from each other… but I want to give us a fair chance. I don’t believe we had one.

If that’s something you want too, find me before Wednesday at 3 pm. I got a job offer from Muï Muï. My train for Milan departs at 3:15 pm from Gare de Lyon. I wanted to refuse them at first, but then I thought that if you didn’t want me back, I should be the one to step away. Firstly, because it’ll be easier to get over each other if we’re living in different countries. Secondly, because you can’t leave Gabriel, Adrien. You made such a huge difference in the company. People are enjoying themselves now. They are eager to create and become better because they know they work for someone who cares. You have a kind and compassionate soul. That’s all that’s needed to head Gabriel. Please, don’t leave them. If we aren’t meant to be together, let me be the one to leave. I’ll be perfectly happy in Milan. Gabriel may never have another leader as great as you.

That’s it. I’ll stop now. It’s getting late and I’m pretty sure I already wrote everything I wanted. I took a week off, so I’ll be home most of the time packing. 

If, by some miracle, you find me worthy of a second chance, I’ll be waiting for you any time of the day or night. If you think it's better for us to go our separate ways, I’ll leave on Wednesday at 3:15 pm. If I don’t see you by then, I’ll know your answer. 

In any case, thank you for everything. Thank you for helping me achieve my dream. Thank you for loving and respecting me so much you allowed yourself to be hurt. I am so, so sorry about everything again. I hope you can forgive me one day. 

I love you.

Marinette.

P.S. Since you aren’t coming to collect the rent fee I still owe you, I’ve been freezing meals for you with reheating instructions attached. After I’m gone, you’ll find them all in your freezer. I also wrote down a few recipes of your favourite dishes and left them on the kitchen table. They’re pretty easy to make, so I’m sure you’ll be able to handle them.

P.P.S. Of course, you can keep Plagg. Just let me know how I can find him if I need to.

P.P.P.S. I’m also furious you kept self-akumatizing yourself for weeks. Do you even know how dangerous it is?! There are reasons there always, ALWAYS two people involved in this, and no, I don’t consider Plagg a full-fledged person no matter how good of a job he did de-akumatizing you. However, no matter how angry about this I am, I have to thank you. I could never have done this without ‘Felix’ and his help. So, thank you, but DON'T YOU DARE ever think about doing it again. If you do, I swear, I won’t care that you’re Chat Noir, my loyal partner for a decade, I WILL kick your butt all the way down the Eiffel Tower and then some.”

 Adrien laughed. Ladybug was always so adorable when she was annoyed or angry at him. Reading the letter, he could practically see her glaring at him, her lips pursed, eyebrows knit in a frown, a hint of smoke coming out of her ears. She never was angry for long, though. She was too kind for that.

His eyes went back to the words before all of the postscripts, running over them again and again. 

 I love you.

 She loved him!

His heart quickened its pace as he grinned harder. 

Marinette loved him.

She didn’t hate him; she loved him! And she wanted to give them another try, to give him a second chance. 

Why would she even think he wouldn’t want that? Who did she think he was? Silly girl. Of course, he—

His breath hitched, grin vanishing from his lips. He pulled out his cellphone and looked at today’s date on the lock screen.

No.

Wednesday. 

3:00 pm.

He had fifteen minutes to stop Marinette before she left Paris thinking he didn’t want anything to do with her. Bone-chilling cold gripped his chest. Adrien shook it off, standing up and gathering his things. 

He couldn’t let her go again. 

Not when they finally had a viable chance at happiness. Dropping money for the lunch on the table, he ran to the nearest hiding spot, clutching the letter in his hand. 

He could make it there in time, but he had to hurry.

“Plagg! Claws out!”

Chat Noir ran as fast as he could towards a big dome in the distance. Gare de Lyon. He could see it, but it would take him at least ten minutes to get there. 

Chat pushed himself harder, hoping to defy time. 

He had to get there faster. 

He couldn’t let her go. 

He couldn’t let her think he didn’t want her. 

He couldn’t…

Trains came into his view. Out of breath, Chat dropped onto the roof of the building. Below him lay a labyrinth of train tracks, metro connections, shops, and people. Crowds, thousands of people walking around. How was he supposed to find her here? 

He noticed an information bulletin and ran towards it. The train for Milan was leaving in a few minutes. Thankfully, the platform he needed was right there. He glanced at the entrance. Huge lines of people were scanning their tickets to access the platform. He had to get past them. He also had to get away from the people gawking at him and trying to get his attention. He had no time for fans right now. He had to find Marinette.

Using his staff, Chat got back to the roof and ran past the ticket checkpoint, descending into the underground pass between the platforms. He quickly found a nook to de-transform and ran out to the platform just in time to see the train depart.

His heart sank. 

No!

No!

NO!

Adrien ran after it. 

“Marinette! Marinette, wait!”

The train didn’t stop, but when Adrien reached the end of the platform, he had to. Out of breath, he grabbed a nearby pole to hold on to, watching the train carry his love away. 

This wasn’t fair. 

This couldn’t be happening. 

He came.

He ran! 

As fast as he could. 

Why?

“You can’t do this!” Adrien cried out after the train without thinking. “This isn’t fair! I had fifteen minutes! Fifteen minutes to get here!”

His vision blurred, but Adrien raised the letter in his hand and yelled again. “You can’t tell me all of this and then leave! I didn’t get to answer!”

His fists clenched. He didn’t care what the people around him thought. “You know what? I’m not letting you get away like this! I’m buying a ticket for the next train to Milan and I’m going to find you and give you my answer! You said it yourself we have to learn to communicate, so that is what I’m doing!”

Straightening up, he pressed his lips together and turned around, ready to fulfill his words, only to freeze in place. A few meters away in a red dress with her hair down, stood Marinette. Her eyes wide, cheeks flushed, she clutched her luggage, watching him silently. 

Her name slipped from his lips. 

He swallowed and held up her letter. “Is this still true? Did you mean it?”

“Every word,” she breathed out.

That was all that Adrien needed to hear. With an urgent stride, he walked up to her and, pulling her close, captured her lips in a kiss. The world around them vanished, erupting in a symphony only they could hear. She sighed against him, her hands on his shirt, tugging him close. Hot breaths mingling, their lips moved in unison. Adrien slid one of his hands to the small of her back and pulled her closer, holding her as though she were the most precious treasure he'd ever beheld. Her arms wrapped around his neck, a barely audible moan escaping her lips. Adrien groaned and deepened the kiss. She whimpered but allowed him the freedom. His heart threatened to burst, fire burning in the pit of his stomach. Adrien kissed her more fervently with each passing moment, getting lost in their closeness. Her scent, the warmth of her body, her burning touch. His knees were giving out, but he refused to let her go.

What if she disappeared on him again?

He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle that.

He pulled her even closer, holding on as tight as he could. In vain. A few moments later, she pulled back, gasping for air. He tightened his hold on her, leaning forward so their foreheads touched. “Please, don’t go. Stay. I want you to stay with me.”

“I will,” she whispered, her cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling with tears. “I want to stay with you too.” 

He lowered his head again, peppering her lips with sweet, gentle kisses. 

Marinette giggled, losing composure. Her tears spilled as she buried her face in his chest and sobbed. “I’m so sorry. I was so stupid. I hurt you so much.”

“I wasn’t at my best either,” he whispered into her hair. “You’re right—we didn't really have a fair shot at this. But we’ll talk and figure this thing out, okay?”

She quietly nodded, her face still hidden in his shirt. “I was so scared you wouldn’t show up.”

“I only got your letter twenty minutes ago. I ran as fast as I could but it wasn’t enough. I’m sorry I made you worry.”

She shook her head, her hold on him tightening. “That’s fine. It helped me realize even more how much I want to be with you.” 

A lump stuck in his throat, Adrien cradled her in his arms. “You didn’t get on the train.”

“I waited for you on the platform a minute too long.”

He smiled. “You knew I’d come?”

“I was really hoping you would.”

He kissed her again, light butterfly kisses at the corner of her lips, her nose, that pretty forehead of hers. 

Wiping her tears, Marinette giggled, her voice ringing like tiny bells in springtime.

“Let’s go home,” Adrien said, pulling away, yet keeping her in his arms. 

“We should. We have a lot to talk about.” 

“That and I believe I owe you cuddles and kisses for all the times I held back. Ugh, that was so hard!” he bemoaned dramatically. “I wouldn’t wish the experience even on my enemies.”

She laughed, bopping his nose as she pulled out of his embrace. “We have plenty of time to catch up on that as well. I took a week off work and I heard you weren’t showing up either.”

“I needed some time off.”

 “How convenient for us we both have no obligations for a few more days. Plenty of time to talk things through.” 

He grinned and took her luggage. “Then let’s not waste a single minute, my Lady. This cat is at your service.”

She let a teasing smile play on her lips. “That’s a dangerous offer you’re making there, Adrien. What if I intend to capitalize on it to the fullest?”

“I insist you do.” He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Anything for you, Princess. I love you. I always did. I always will.”

“I love you too,” she whispered in response, pulling him down for another kiss. “With all my heart. Forever and then some.”

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