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#my sibling made the emerald ring like the entire ring
singlethread · 7 months
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I found my rings and my bracelet. I feel like I can finally breathe
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realcatalina · 2 years
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Another family portrait misdated
I am starting to get feeling that we have very wrong idea of fashion during Edward VI’s reign. So here is another family portrait(which only survives in copies saldy)-but here Edward VI is in the centre. He is already King. (Despite Henry being next to him, they did this weird posthumous portraits upon assesion of new monarch, Mary did it too.)
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The painting is estimated to be c.1550. Translation-they don’t know when it was made. Just that it was during Edward’s reign. 1550 is middle value of edward’s entire reign: 1547-1553. 
So when is the portrait actually from? Well, I have two possible dates. Either spring 1547 or autumn or winter 1548. Hence max. 1548. But why?
(Read to the end there is revelation about how Mary I confused generations of Tudor fans fashion-wise.)
1st possible date is based upon death of Henry VIII, he died in January 1547. Edward here is in centre of the painting, he is already King. 
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Note also that Mary has fur undersleeves and Elizabeth a cloak, so it is in cold season.
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But isn’t Edward here is taller than Mary? And Elizabeth is her height exactly. How old could they be?
Well, given that Mary Rose(their aunt) sprung up late, Elizabeth could have too-so no way of telling how old she was at the time. Edward was noted to be short early on during his reign(he was 9!) but it was never in comparison to his siter. just on his own. Mary was notably short for those days. So could he at 9 be taller than his very short sister? Yeah,he could. (If he took after his father, it’s certainly possible and given amount of portraits as King where he has very long legs, I’d say it is even likely. He could have sprung up early. Genetics are weird.)
Note he is not significantly taller than her and since he is behind table, who knows if he is not standing on something to be just tiny bit taller than his sisters?
(Don’t be as naive as to think people didn’t do this in past.)
Nothing in surviving copies proves my dating-just that it is in cold season of the year. However Elizabeth’s posture is nearly identical as in one miniature:
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She has her right hand tucked into the front opening of her gown.
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It’s just different headwear, possibly slightly different sleeves used. Hidden in the miniature is that she has black ribbon around her neck with emerald ring. It’s WAY too big, to be Elizabeth’s. This man’s ring. Man with very large hands. It’s most likely Henry VIII’s ring:
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Now you might think she hated the man for killing her mother, but i believe it’d be way more complicated than that, and she perhaps clung to only parent she had left. Or she knew it was expected to show filial piety, and put on good show. 
Some of us attended funerals of people we didn’t like and had some closure. But since Tudor royalty didn’t attend funeral, perhaps it was some way of getting closure. Mourning a bit, and then moving on. 
Combined with her being depicted with skull-who symbolism is actually explained by text in translation means ‘Remember you have to die’, it certainly points to death being on her mind. The death was fresh. Meaning  it is proabbly 1547! Given the warm clothing with fur, it’s max spring 1547. 
(There is more of text but points to same thing.)
Altenatively mourning for Catherine Parr(she died in September 1548) could bring thoughts of siblings upon death also, and could make them perhaps spent some time together, trying to console each other and perhaps have a portrait made together. So it could be end of year 1548, but I am more inclined to beginning of year 1547. 
Now I want you to look at this much later drawing of Elizabeth by Clouet, but probably based upon this family portrait(notice the ribbon)
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Look at the roundness of that shape. Clouet was very good in sketches. It cannot be significantly off. Him drawing shows some roundness to the headwear and I believe indeed there was.
So why are these bellow this flat? Not rounded at all?
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Because on left is white band with coif, and on right is black bend with unturned veil of hood. Turning of inner lining from inside to outside adds bit of volume to french hoods, so do certain hairstyles beneath. But since Elizabeth is c. 14 in here, she probably doesn’t haveas long hair as some older women, or she wears them bit positioned more down, or bit more at front-as is usual with the band towards end of 1540s.
So Elizabeth gave us clues as to dating. But is there depiction of Mary based upon this painting? 
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I am not sure. There might be an original. Or at least was:
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Sometimes royalty had larger portrait made and then smaller version of it made also, at same time. And this portrait is interesting for 3 reasons.
A) Imo it’s by both William Scrots and Hans Eworth
Scrots you’d probably guess(just look at the pearls) but the slight pout, that is something Eworth tended to do. And this proves they worked together. Scrots was on royal payroll, so he was probably master of workshop, of which Eworth was part of. 
B) The resemblence to Elizabeth!
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I mean, if I wanted to screw your head, i’d say it is Elizabeth and not Mary! But brows say it is Mary. So maybe, they didn’t take after their mothers as much as we are lead to believe. Maybe more after grandmother.
C)Mary looks extremely young and carefree
Many women on her mother’s side kept youthful looks for long. Her apparently all the way to end of her father’s reign. And then stress during Edward’s reign aged her significantly.
But she also looks extremely carefree and I wonder about the reason. I mean if her father just died, she doesn’t seem to care in slightest(nor even pretend to). Or worry about her brother’s overzealous protestanism. Maybe she wasn’t aware yet how bad it would turn.
Or it was painted prior to Edward’s ascession. 
We see all the time Henry VIII’s reign as 1509-1547, but he died in January 1547. That year would basically belong to Edward, so when doing chronology we should end Henrician fashion in 1546. 
I was kind of wondering-Elizabeth was painted by Scrots in c.1544-1545, Parr had at least 2 portraits done in c.1545, Edward was painted in c.1546, and I have a candidate on Henry VIII’s portrait by Scrots as well.
So where is Mary’s from this time? Notion that everybody else gets portraits and she is left out is ridiculous. She was in favour. 
But this portrait could be it. If Elizabeth’s was 1544 and Mary’s from 1546, it could just barely fit fashion wise.(because these differences don’t appear overnight). It’s not impossible. 
But how come Mary in 1546-1548 wears this?!
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Shouldn’t it be 1553-1558? Yes, and no. The outfit indeed fits Mary’s image as Queen. But she looks too young and there is no mark of stress of Edward’s reign, present in portrait in Fitzwilliam museum(look in past posts) and in her portraits as Queen.
And it fits with how shape of french hood and of black band moved in 1540s in england. (Believe it or not. But if you don’t, be polite and try to disprove me with evidence.)
Imo Mary, upon becoming Queen, tried to erase Edward’s reign. And it didn’t end with getting rid of all the political decisions he made. Imo it was so traumatic to her, that for while she completely rejected the fashion styles of his reign.
She would not wear them(at least temporarily/or to degree), and instead she returned to her ‘safe place’ to time when her father was alive, and decided to continue to from there. 
Mary reversed in fashion to 1546/1547. In 1553! Usually when monarch or Queen Consort does this-whole country does it too. In her reign, i am not so sure it happened. 
(I need to check some misdated portraits of Antonio Mor, because there is big lack of female portraits from 1550s and there are some of english women by Mor dated as 1560s-1570s)
Perhaps her marrying Philip lead to confusion. Now do we do stay true to English style? Should we start lean to Spanish style or Netherladish or other? What should we wear to please the Queen?
So that was another family portrait and Mary confusing heck out of Tudor fans, I hope you enjoyed it and I off to finish another post.
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peaches-writes · 3 years
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heart attack!
description: han jisung can charm any heart if he wants to but he just wants one, whether he admits it to your face or not. 
member: jisung / han
genre: fluff, fantasy, rivals to lovers au, childhood friends to lovers au, witch / wizard au (sugar sugar rune-inspired), royal au, college au, roommates / housemates au, slice of life format, a side of hwang siblings, sunshine twins, cousin chan, and minchan (!!)
word count: 25.1k i’m so sorry
warnings: explicit language, alcohol, some mentions of injuries, a brief episode of someone getting abducted, mentions of a creep being,,,well a creep at public transportation, self-indulgent tooth-rotting cheesiness, idk if i should put a warning for unconscious emotional manipulation but im gonna write that in here anw
note: idk if i want to write little drabbles w this same pairing again since it ended up being so long but i kinda lost the plot halfway lmao lmk if u guys want additional lil drabbles for this hehe + again happy 1k yay!
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You don’t always get along with Han Jisung, crown prince of the Eastern Kingdom, for reasons you simply can't limit to the number of fingers and toes that you have. He loves annoying you for the sake of getting a reaction, bratty as far as a wizard prince goes, and prideful among many traits that you were forced to grow up alongside with.
These days, however, you hate the way that he is the only other candidate alongside yourself for the High Crown of the magical world. As if fate didn't just want the two of you to butt heads in school and at royal social functions all the time, suddenly you're pushed to compete with him for something much greater.
For the record, though, it's tradition that all firstborn heirs of the 4 major kingdoms are considered eligible for the highest throne that unites all of your domains. You were going to compete with him either way, just with other people initially involved. However, with prince Hyunjin of the Southern kingdom mysteriously disappearing over a month ago and princess Lia of the Western kingdom subsequently refusing the candidacy, suddenly there was only you and the Eastern prince for the high jury to challenge in their Crown Candidacy exam. Fate and circumstance clearly love you with the way Jisung is always in your line of sight when all you want for yourself is to not be on the receiving end of his teasings and competititve streak all the time.
Though you yourself didn't desire the High Crown at first, the elders continuously pressuring you eventually pushed you into accepting the task. Plus, knowing that it's Jisung—the brat who pulled on your hair during those silly etiquette lessons the high jury made you and the other royals take as kids and embarrassed you when you once confessed your past crush to him in middle school—who would be automatically crowned without a test if Hyunjin isn't found in time and you also refuse made you go forward with it. After all, as much as you personally don't want to answer to Jisung as the next High King, you also think that entrusting the entire magical realm to him is simply not right. You would know, you had to grow up with him.
So, here you are on the night that the Crown Candidacy exam begins, receiving the final blessing from your mother and the high jury with Jisung who has been sneakily trying to poke on your side and get a reaction out of you since the ceremony began. If 15 elders and your mentors aren't surrounding the two of you with their scrutinizing eyes right this very moment, you would've easily snapped on the first poke and blasted the blue-haired boy.
"Stop that," You instead gritted your teeth next to him with the 17th poke to your waist, lowering your voice that only he can hear. "Ji, I swear to the gods—"
Among the circle of witches and wizards chanting ritual protection spells over the two of you, your mentor Younghyun glares at you and Jisung as if in a non-verbal scolding that the two of you should stop "playing around" as he would usually word it. You simply roll your eyes at this in response, earning you more quizzical looks from the other elders.
You also hate the way that Han Jisung keeps stringing you into his antics as his favourite person to mess with. If anything, you're most often in trouble with the elders because of him.
"This part of the ceremony is so unnecessary. I'm bored" He murmurs tiredly under his breath, bringing his hands back inside his black cape and pushing his shoulders back as he stands up straighter once more. "It's not like humans can hurt us. We're the magical ones, hello? Besides, the jury’s already cut the one-year exam by half. What could even happen in that time?”
"Stray monsters can still hunt you there if you don’t stand still." You correct immediately, earning you a look from your own mother this time as she finishes leading the last of the spells. At this point in your unwanted association with him, you don't even care much anymore that you get in trouble because you entertain his antics. You just want him to shut up. "Whatever. It's done."
The prince then giddily springs up in place once all of the spells are casted, suddenly looking more awake than the past 5 minutes of ceremony. "Finally! Okay, thanks for that! We'll be going now!"
"Wait." Your mother calmly interrupts him, perfectly hiding her slight annoyance over you and Jisung as she whips out her blue wand from the pockets of her ceremonial robes. "For the high jury to properly tally the ecure that you'll collect in the human world after this task, we'll be providing you with vessels to keep them."
As she mentions the vessels, a sapphire locket and an emerald ring materialize in front of you and Jisung respectively before settling at the palms of your hands. You're then quick to notice the way that the diamond-cut sapphire encrusted at the center of your locket emits warmth as you place it around your neck, indicating its magical properties.
"These vessels have been modified further to record everything that you collect and any spell or potion that you might use them on while undertaking in this task." Your mother then continues. Simultaneously, Younghyun gestures for you and Jisung to mount your brooms and prepare to fly off into the yellow crescent moon where the portal to the human world lies on its other side. "Though the ecure that you lose is not counted in the final tally, knowing how you used or lost them also contributes to the jury's examination of your magical skills and knowledge."
Jisung chuckles, bumping the bristle end of his broom with yours playfully. "And to see what kind of trouble we'll get ourselves into, right?"
In response, you simply roll your eyes. Your mother, on the other hand, purposely tunes out Jisung's usual antics and continues, "Remember, this exam will determine the next monarch that unites all of the 4 major domains. Collect as much ecure as you can from the humans in the 6 months that you're given with them and you will be rewarded greatly. Until then, have a safe journey to the human world, candidates."
With that, you and Jisung push yourselves off from the castle balcony, heading straight to the crescent moon.
"Last to the other side is a lousy flyer!" Jisung yells playfully into the quiet night, speeding ahead before you could even process his words. “And has to pay for a meal sometime!”
"Ya! Han Jisung!" You increase your speed yourself anyway despite knowing that his words don’t have any ill meaning, catching up to him with ease just as the two of you pass into the portal. “I paid for the meals last time!” 
-
Han Jisung isn't always fond of you, the heir to the Northern Kingdom, for reasons he simply can't limit to the number of fingers and toes that he has. He thinks you're too uptight (especially in the presence of the high jury and the other elders of the bigger royal circle), easily irritable, and surprisingly a bit of a pushover to your kingdom's advisors ever since your cousin, Chan, renounced his royal title and settled in the human world.
These days, however, he hates the way that you've suddenly taken up an interest in competing for the high crown of the magical world alongside him even when you've made it clear countless times before that you only wanted to rule your own kingdom. You only started showing interest after Lia formally refused her candidacy and the elders pushed you more into changing your mind, clearly hinting that you don't want Jisung to automatically be crowned High King.
Do they really think that terribly of me? Jisung has resorted to thinking a lot about these days, even now as the two of you arrive at Chan’s place where you would be staying for the duration of the test. I make a good high king as much as I do the king of my own people! Hmp!
It shouldn't bother him this much, it's just you anyway. But at the same time, it bothers him for this very same reason: because it's you, the know-it-all who always busted his antics to the teachers back in school and embarrassed him to his friends when you confessed your past crush to him back in middle school. Jisung hates the way you challenge and compel him to be petty and competitive all the time, especially in the little things. Like right now, as the two of you argue on who gets the bigger bedroom in Chan's house right after you arrived.
"You know, I was just holding back a while ago because we were in front of the elders but I swear, I won't hesitate to blast you now that we're away." You warn as you try your best to stare him down while he blocks the bedroom door you both want. You have your hands raised to the side, sparks of a spell encircling our fingers and the space between your hands. "Move, Jisung!"
Still, Jisung stubbornly refuses. You two have bickered enough to last you all of your lifetimes and for him to know that you won't really do it. "I was here first! You go to the other room!"
The blue ball of energy in your hands begins to shape itself into a more tangible shape as your brows furrow even deeper in frustration. "But I called dibs on this room to Chan firs—!"
Before you could finish your words, however, Chan peeks his head out from the opposite end of the hallway with a pile of blankets in his hands. "You two still going at it? It's almost 2 AM." He teases in feigned disapproval, approaching the two of you to throw a blanket each of your way. "Come on, give it up, Sung. Y/N gets the big room."
Jisung's initial smug expression contorts into disbelief in an instant while you celebrate with a wide grin and a teasing tongue stuck out at him. "What?!"
"Ha! Thanks, Channie!" You clasp your hands together in satisfaction, the red sparks in your hands disappearing into thin air as you do so, before pushing the paralyzed Jisung out of the way and locking yourself in the bedroom. Once Jisung's pulled himself together at the betrayal, you then briefly peek your head out of the door, sticking your tongue out for the last time before greeting the two boys with a quick, "Goodnight!"
Jisung glares and purses his lips in front of Chan who chuckles at this. "Hyung!" He whines, grabbing the older boy by his biceps and shaking him wildly like how a child would throw a tantrum. "I don't see you for three years and when I do, I get treated like this?!"
"Exactly." Chan nods with an amused smile, tugging Jisung to his side and leading him to his room across from yours. "Y/N was kind enough to visit me here while you didn't even send a letter. I think that's enough to give them the big room."
"Aah, but you already know why I couldn't! I was busy with all the prince stuff!"
"Y/N was too, though? And they’re doing twice the work than you."
"But Y/N's more organized than me!"
"So you agree? My cousin earned the bigger room?"
"No, it’s not th—aish! Bang Chan!" When the older boy in question tries pushing Jisung back to the smaller bedroom, the latter childishly protests by gripping onto the doorframe. "I'm making it up to you now! I'm literally staying here for 6 months!"
"Yeah and I'll definitely treat you to lots of other things for that later. Seriously, Ji, give it a rest. It's just your temporary room for the exam." Chan sighs with a tired laugh, prying the younger wizard's hands off of the doorframe and shoving him inside the room. "Unpack your things and get some sleep. We're having a welcoming party for you two on the weekend."
"You're supposed to side with me here."
"Don't pull that face, you're not kids anymore." Chan chuckles, ruffling the younger boy's hair. "And I'm not siding with anyone. It’s just a room! Night, Sungie."
Jisung opens his mouth to protest, only for Chan to close the door on him and walk back to his own room. With a sigh, the boy defeatedly trudges to his new bed and, after taking out his expandable pouch from his pockets, jumps to the mattress with a muffled groan to the plush pillows.
Jisung also hates how one of his best friends favors you better just because you're cousins first. He's had enough of Chan coddling you before from when you were kids, always taking your side when the two of you bicker and offering you his extra food when the three of you are together, and he would much prefer it if he doesn't see it now that the two of you are undergoing an important exam.
"At least the view's nice." He pouts to himself once he's seated up once more, facing the window that overlooks the city. After just spending ten minutes flying over Seoul and exploring Chan's vast mansion, Jisung gets it a little now. Chan definitely didn't choose this realm over their home for no reason.
If I'm not in line to be king, Jisung thinks to himself, this life also seems nice.
Hovering his hands over the enchanted green pouch, its neatly packed contents of clothes and other personal belongings then emerge from its seemingly tiny space before levitating to their respective places. "Aish, that Y/N!" Jisung yells loudly on purpose, leaning on his side closer to the door to hear your reaction.
Across the hall, while you make a fuss out of unpacking and changing the appearance of some furniture, you yell back, "Shut up, Ji!"
Jisung has many reasons for disliking you at times but, if anything, he lives for your reactions when he purposely annoys you. Even when he knows you’re always a spell away from actually snapping at him, you never actually do and it never fails to amuse him. Scoffing, he lets it slide for now and quietly unpacks.
-
If attending social functions as a royal has taught you anything over the years, it's to avoid being within reach of Jisung at a party before, during, and after he makes a huge mess of things. You've had your own fair share of spilled drinks to your dress robes, purposely getting embarrassed in front of the elders and other important public officials, and even a huge fight over not wanting to be his dance partner to remind you of this at all times.
Of the places that you and Jisung have to be standing next to each other, it's the parties that you hate having to see him at the most because they bring you nothing but trouble. Chan's welcoming party for the two of you, with witches and wizards living in the human world as well as Chan's own human friends in attendance, is no exception.
"What do you think he's going to do this time?" Yeji snickers next to you on the makeshift dance floor of the house's backyard. Ever since her brother disappeared, she's been staying in the human world combing through every inch of Seoul and trying to retrace what is little known of the steps he took. Naturally, you've stuck to each other like glue since she arrived. "It's been two hours since this party started and all he's doing is—"
"Flirt with every human on the dance floor. I know, that's why I'm not looking over my shoulder. I think that's all he's planning to do in this party, given that we've started with the test." You frown, taking a sip of your beer as the song changes to a more lively one. "This guy's never taken any exam back in school seriously but now he suddenly wants to win this one exam. Weird, right?"
"Hm, maybe he really wants to win this exam and become high king. You can never really tell what goes on in that head of his." Yeji shrugs, blinking twice in quick succession to make her eyes turn red, an indication that she's scanning the venue for the humans' ecures. "Anyway, he's definitely working hard. I see a lot of orange hearts for him as much as there are for you."
Only then do you also turn your head around the place, your own eyes turning blue as you collect the orange hearts of infatuation and green hearts of friendship that people you've met tonight have for you with a non-verbal spell. As you catch these little crystal hearts into your locket, you briefly catch a glimpse of Jisung at one of the foldable tables chatting with three human girls. It somehow irritates you.
"He never lost that cringey fuckboy persona, huh?" Yeji points out once you're done with your collecting, shaking her now empty bottle and frowning once she realizes that it's already empty. "I guess I didn't miss out on much even after being away for a few weeks."
"You talk like you were gone for a year, not 3 weeks." You laugh. When she then asks you if you want to get new beer bottles, you follow her back to the coolers behind Chan's DJ set. "I hate how we'll be seeing more of those again when we start attending uni to collect more hearts."
"Oh, right! You're attending mine, right? You'll be with me, Seungmin, and Ryujin?" When you nod once more, she links her arms with yours and adds, “Gosh, I can just see it now, girls from the different departments flocking the two of you on the first day but especially Sung. A lot of girls I know from uni really dig that e-boy thing he has going on."
You pretend to gag, making her throw her head back in a cackle of laughs. "Humans and their weird tastes in men." You scrunch up your nose, the two of you briefly pausing to politely wave at Chan as you pass by his booth.
Your cousin doesn't hesitate to wave back at you both before going back to his spinning. You and Yeji then head to the back of his area where the coolers of different beverages have been placed.
"Oh shush, didn't you too also have a crush on him way back then?" Yeji teases the moment the two of you are alone again, opening the cooler with a simple flick of her hand. You follow along despite the glare you send her way, your empty beer bottles getting replaced by new ones. "Sometimes, Ryujin and I like to think that you still have a little bit of that."
"No way." You shake your head in denial, picking up a bottle opener from one of the closed coolers and using it over yours and Yeji's. "Middle school was a long time ago. Jisung just irritates the hell out of me now."
"Who irritates who now?" A voice behind you perks up almost immediately, causing you to jump and spill a little of your beer on the grass. When you glance over your shoulder, Jisung's white bucket hat comes into your vision, eventually uncovering his mischievous smile. "Ah, so clumsy. Look, you spilled a little beer on the grass.” 
Next to you, Yeji giggles behind her hand while greeting Jisung. You glare at her in response.
"You're annoying." You point out with a pout, thrusting the bottle opener to his chest before linking arms with Yeji. "We're going."
Jisung only shrugs with a smirk, waving goodbye to Yeji as the two of you pass by him to go back to the dance floor. "It makes you look, doesn't it?"
"Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that." You roll your eyes before disappearing back into the crowd with Yeji.
Once Jisung is out of earshot, Yeji then nudges your side with your linked arms. "I'm telling you, there's still a little something. Deep, deep down there." She teases in a singsong. “That’s probably why the banter just won’t die out.”
"Nope, definitely not." You shake your head. "Have you been watching too much of those human dramas while you’re here? It’s playing with your judgement."
-
It comes even as a surprise to Jisung himself that he hasn't caused a major mishap in this welcoming party so far. Since the majority of the guests started arriving two hours ago, he hasn't done anything troubling besides losing to Ryujin at beer pong and finishing a whole red cup of Chan's jungle juice concoction as punishment almost an hour ago.
It doesn't bother his "instincts for mischief" that much—his mentor's words not his. It means that he's more focused on collecting ecures at the moment with the amount of humans he's mingled with at this party, especially the girls who have taken it upon themselves to flirt with him.
What does bother him slightly, however, is the way you occasionally glance over to him knowingly from across the lawn, as if you're expecting him to do something. You always seem to do that after years of getting roped into his troubles, much like a lot of your childhood friends who'd frequently end up in similar predicaments. Somehow, however, it's always intimidating when it's you looking at him. He personally hates that, the look in your eyes when you're trying to catch him in his mischievous acts.
"Who are you and what have you done to my twin brother?" Felix has been teasing the entire night every time he encounters Jisung. When Jisung pouts this time, while the two share a drink on a couch that was brought out for this party, Felix laughs over his drink and adds, "Oh, so you're really focused on this test, huh? No trouble until this party's over?"
"Why do you guys think I'm not?" Jisung frowns, elbowing his brother by his side. "Geez, Lix, you're supposed to root for me here. If I win, you get to be king too."
In response, Felix waves his solo cup dismissively. "No, no, I think you're doing great! You've caught how much already? Twenty hearts in this party? That's a great start, bro." He comments with a proud smile. "It's just a little new, seeing you all so serious and focused. It's not because you're up against Y/N, right?"
"Ha? Nope, definitely not. It's barely a competition when I'm clearly winning." Jisung shakes his head a little too defensively as he sinks into the soft velvet couch. "I just think it's natural that another kingdom should get the high crown this time and since it's only me and Y/N competing, unless we also find Hyunjin while we're here I should work hard and make it happen."
Just then, Seungmin sits down on his other side with a cup of punch and a small paper plate of sweets from the chocolate fountain. "If Hyunjin was here, he would've whipped your asses in this party by getting all of the human guys and girls with one smile." He points out matter-of-factly. "Plus, if Lia accepted the candidacy, all three of you would've lost even before you left home."
"You never really rooted for me, huh, Minnie?" Jisung feigns sad eyes as he rests his head on Seungmin's shoulder. "And here I thought we're best friends."
"Oh no, I'm totally rooting for you now." Seungmin replies with a dry chuckle, passing his paper plate over to Felix when he holds his hands out in a motion asking for food. "But if the gang was complete, I would've changed to team Hyunjin."
Jisung scoffs at this, swiping a marshmallow covered in chocolate from Seungmin's plate. "Fine, I won’t hold it against you. I miss Hyunjin too."
"Yeji and Chae are doing everything they can to look for him. He'll turn up somewhere, he just has to. Until then, you should just focus more on your exam. Hyunnie would want that." Felix quips in before turning his attention over to you and Yeji at the nearby karaoke mini bar. "Look, that's what Y/N and Yeji are doing right now."
When Jisung looks through the crowd that has gathered around you, his eyes turning a deep green, he sees a lot of orange hearts gravitate over to you, mostly from the uni boys and girls that Yeji, Seungmin, and Ryujin have invited to this party.
"You guys are seeing it too, right?" Felix asks, his own eyes a matching shade of green when he tilts his head over to Seungmin and Jisung. "At least twenty new hearts in a span of 10 minutes, right after they just gave Y/N a bunch of green hearts."
Seungmin nods, his head movements making Jisung's head shake a little on his shoulder. "Yeah. Y/N's really working extra on this." He notes in complete awe. "The competition's really close, don't you think so Lix?"
"Definitely. What do you think, Ji?"
"Nope, definitely not." Jisung crosses his arms and shakes his head in disagreement. "It's impressive but not enough to catch up to me."
But the smallest hint of a frown gracing his features is enough to give his feelings away to his friends. Only now does it fully sink in that it’s definitely a tight competition between the two of you.
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one out of six months
At one point, you understood why people would foolishly fall for Jisung. On a really good day, when he's not causing you or anyone too much trouble, you could see his playful side as charming, maybe even too cute for you to admit it out loud. A long time ago, back when you were still so naïve, you had a small playground crush on him too, after all; a crush that ended so badly you're convinced it's where your bickering naturally escalated.
But now, as your days in the human world turn into a month spent fulfilling your Crown Candidacy exam at university with your friends, you just wish that not a lot of humans are so insanely attracted to Jisung. It's nothing personal, of course, you're not jealous at all in that way. Whenever you sit in the library to study, attend classes from late in the morning to early afternoons, or even just sit in the quad with your shared friend group discussing updates on Yeji's search for Hyunjin, however, your competitor is just always being followed by flocks of smitten girls with their orange and pink ecures of crushes on their sleeves, ready to be collected by Jisung's emerald ring.
And you're not going to get started on the rainbow-colored hearts that send him little gifts and love letters at least once a week before classes, sometimes even directly to Chan's house where the third kitchen fridge is now filled with bakery goods stashed along with Chan's fan gifts. Not wanting to admit it to him or any of your friends, you're admittedly quite jealous because he attracts the ecures from the humans so easily while you have to work extra harder in socializing with your human peers to garner even just pink hearts. You hate having to work extra, extra harder just to be on par with him all the time, especially when he seems to be effortless in his ways.
"Before Lix went back to the magical realm, he relayed that Changbin from back home suggested that we start expanding our search for Hyunjin to—" For the sixth time since your group met up at the quad after classes this particular afternoon, another group of girls pass by and greet Jisung, interrupting Yeji in her explanations. Pouting slightly, she then turns to Jisung and pokes him with her pen, snapping the smirk off of his face. "Sung, focus."
Jisung nods quickly, waving Yeji's pen away from his side. "Yeah, let me just collect their hearts real quick."
You roll your eyes in response, nudging Yeji to resume her updates. "Just go on, Yeji." You encourage her, Seungmin and Ryujin nodding along in agreement. For emphasis, you make sure to tap Jisung's hand on the grass with your own pen harshly, making him wince dramatically in pain. "You're extending the search to Incheon, right?"
"Oh, uh yeah. Like I said, Lix said that Changbin suggested Incheon since Hyunjin briefly mentioned it in one of his letters. We'll start looking into it ourselves before this semester is over." Yeji continues on, ignoring the next group of passing girls that Jisung gets distracted over again this time around. "Chaeryoung is going there in the following months, though, to scout the places first. Then, we'll try and follow up with a search of our own. I'll have to ask Chan and the jury back at home if you and Jisung are allowed to go, though, since you're taking your exam."
"Among those places, Hyunjin often went to this stretch of the beach because he was investigating a monster from home who escaped here and took an artifact from our kingdom." Seungmin added, pointing to a location on Yeji's map sprawled over your laptops at the very center of your circle. "It was one of his last assignments here before he suddenly disappeared. We'll probably stay here the longest."
You try your best to listen, adding your own inputs to how your search operations would go while also noticing a couple of people who recognize you and wave your way, but Jisung somehow keeps grabbing your attention by the way he entertains his admirers who greet him shyly as they pass by you group. The playful smirks he sends their way, the polite waves, and the way his hand keeps twitching in between the two of you as he collects the ecures with his own spell keep eating away at your attention span, pressuring you that he's taking the lead in your race.
You also try discreetly collecting your own share of hearts under your breath whenever someone you know passes by but you eventually find it hard finding people while trying to listen to your friends. "Ji, focus." You mumble under your breath after a while, breaking his focus as he collects two more orange hearts.
"Y/N, keep up with me here." He smirks, just as the orange hearts disappear into his ring. "Why are you so distracted by me, anyway? Jealous?"
"I’m not jealous!” 
"Guys focus." Ryujin snaps at the two of you this time, chuckling in amusement when you and Jisung both glare at her. "Hey, easy on the stink eyes. I'm just telling you two to listen over here."
"Do as I do, Ryujin, and just tune them out." Seungmin jabs nonchalantly as he and Yeji take down notes of their discussion, not even once looking up at you nor Jisung. "It works out splendidly once you've mastered it."
"Hearing them bicker over random things before was one thing. Hearing them bicker over ecures now is a whole new playing field." Ryujin smirks, particularly to you. "Ah, you guys sound even more like a married couple now that you're competing. Tsk, tsk..."
"No, we're not!" You and Jisung answer in chorus, looking incredulously at each other after. "Ya!"
"Seungmin's right. Just tune them out, Ryujin." Yeji points out without missing a beat, a small smile taking out the initial annoyance from her face. "Anyway, what's important is we settle our plans first. Let the married couple race for the crown."
"Ya! Hwang Yeji!" You scold, flinging your notebook towards her which she dodges swiftly. "I'm listening, I swear."
Yeji gives you a look of mock disbelief in response before chuckling and going back to her work. "Whatever you say."
-
Jisung won’t admit it to any of you nor his friends’ faces but he may be just a little jealous that you’re catching onto him at a great speed and looking surprisingly nonchalant about it on the outside. You work extremely hard, that’s a given and Jisung respects that as much as the two of you annoy each other. But he doesn’t even have to sneak over to your room at night and check your locket for your ecure count; the boys and girls from uni, the market where Chan forces the two of you to run errands on weekends, and even at Ryujin’s favorite skate park who always take two glances your way wherever you go are enough giveaway to the amount you’re collecting everyday. And it’s a whole lot of hearts. He won’t even be surprised if you’ve managed to collect 300 hearts by now.
And he’s not even going to get started on how fast you manage to take ecures from the same people twice in less than a week, managing to charm same-age neighbors and classmates from good friends to secret admirers in a span of a few days and getting you at least twice the amount for your tally. You have enough hearts on your locket to keep up with Jisung’s count and use your magic leisurely at home. You definitely keep your competitor up on his toes all the time with how you’re giving your all in this competition and it’s gnawing at him to do even better. 
What annoys him on top of this, however, are certain kinds of people that look your way, or even Yeji’s and Ryujin’s for that matter. When the three of you aren’t looking and a bunch of passing jocks would eye you weirdly on the quad or at the library, especially since you’re new to the school, his natural instinct is to glare them down until they’re looking away. He sees their purple ecures from where he would sit across from you as you study, a sign of a lusting kind of feeling, and it does nothing but to tick him off into intimidating them until the color fades out. 
Seungmin thinks that, in a way, this is cheating and that you’d probably think the same way if you find out since purple ecures are ranked quite high in the tally, just above pink hearts (”Y/N’s gotten mad at you before for going too far or breaking the rules. You, of all people, should know not to get on their bad side.”). When Jisung writes to Felix back home after, however, his twin naturally defends him and says that he’s just looking out for you. 
“You guys don’t always see eye to eye, even now that you’re competing against each other,” Felix recorded over the enchanted mail that arrived after your meeting at the quad, Jisung and Seungmin separating from your group to do some more studying at the library. “but you’re just looking out for Y/N and protecting them from any weirdos, like for Ryujin and Yeji. Just tone it down a bit and let them handle it sometimes.” 
“See? Lix thinks I’m doing something right.” Jisung sticks his tongue out at Seungmin who simply shakes his head in stubborn disagreement before returning back to his class notes. “I’m telling you, I’m not sabotaging Y/N on purpose.” 
“Still, whether they want to collect those purple ecures or not is not your choice to make.” Seungmin points out. Though he agrees with Jisung’s intentions, as he’s been doing the same and looking out for you and your friends in his own ways as well, he also trusts that you can take care of yourself. “Just let them handle it next time, unless they actually do need your help.”
“But—“
“Consider the guys that passed by at the quad the last time you’ll mess with Y/N’s ecures.” “You saw that?!”
Still, it gnaws on Jisung’s conscience when he takes the train home with you later that day, when another purple heart springs up for you as he checks your surroundings and finds it to be from a stranger. What a creep, Jisung cringes internally with disgust before strategically blocking the man out from your sight and standing closer to you, Y/N’s competition but I’m a decent being! Be the bigger person or whatever bullshit.
“Ya, what are you doing?” You push him away with your index finger to his stomach, leaving a bigger gap between the two of you as you stand on the moving train. “Ji, personal space.” 
“We’re literally cramped in this train like canned sardines, Y/N. I’m just trying to make space for the people coming in.” Jisung fibs in retort, unknowingly timing his words perfectly with the train making a stop and justifying his next action of taking a step closer to you. This time, he makes sure that he’s towering over you and blocking the creep behind him completely by moving his hand over to the train handle right next to where your hand is. “Don’t make it weird!”
Your expression is surprisingly unwavering now, clearly unamused by his boyish quips. “You’re the one making it weird! You keep hovering over me.” 
“Sure, sure, whatever you say.” He rolls his eyes, instinctively steadying you with one hand when the abrupt movements of the train pushes you slightly forwards. “Oops, careful there.” 
When Jisung takes one last glance at the creep and finds him still looking over your general direction, the boy finally snaps and sends a little spell over the man’s way, one that makes him itch all over and ties his shoelaces together. This is the last time, Jisung swears to himself with a chuckle under his breath, oh what the hell? Punishing creeps is kinda funny.
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two out of six months
The first time Han Jisung spots a red heart that he can collect, it’s 2 months into your candidacy exam and he makes the surprising decision to prolong collecting it by several days. It’s not that Soonyoung from your Math class is aware of this. As far as she knows, Jisung is simply stringing her along much like he does with every other girl he’s flirting with and she doesn’t seem to mind this fact. 
But you mind, you and your other friends do a lot. “It’s a powerful heart and costs 5000 points on the point system.” Seungmin even noted himself once on another day that Jisung left your class without Soonyoung’s crystal red heart. You mostly agree on this, coupled with the fact that you can’t steal the heart for yourself to gain more points in the race since it’s not for you. “Just take it, it’s not going to get any higher than that.”
No matter how much you or any of your friends nag, however, Jisung simply lets the days pass doing nothing much about it besides entertain Soonyoung whenever the girl approaches. As his sole competitor in your candidacy exam, you visibly feel the most frustrated out of everyone else by each passing day, especially at the thought that you yourself haven’t managed any red hearts yet. 
“It is weird, very not like him but also a bit like him if that makes sense?” Ryujin notes by the 10th day, after you recounted Math class to her as you take a short break together. Today, Jisung agreed to go to lunch with Soonyoung, only to tell you and Seungmin that even then he’s not going to take her heart today. “I mean knowing what happened between you two in middle sch—” 
You immediately shake your head before she could even finish her thought, “No, I don’t think that has anything to do with now. Definitely not.” 
“It’s not like that! I meant to say that this is even worse than when you had a crush on Jisung. The girl’s ecure is as red as red could go!” Ryujin exclaims, forcing you to cover her mouth with your hand just as Soonyoung and Jisung comically pass by your table at the kiosk to eat lunch together. Slowly prying your hands off once the pair in question are out of earshot, Ryujin then leans over the table and continues, “But even then, he’s not taking it to gain momentum in your exam. Aren’t you a little bit curious why?” 
You hesitantly shrug, “I mean, a little...but honestly I think he’s just being stupid. If I were him, I won’t string the girl along, not for this long anyway. It’s a waste of time and effort when he can just pick up the heart and reject her carefully.” 
“Then, maybe he has his reasons. If you know about it, you might get an advantage!” Yeji speaks up this time, joining your table late with a huge pile of library books on top of her laptop bag in her hands. As much as this girl has been busy looking for her brother, she also keeps up with her human world cover surprisingly well even when she doesn’t have to with all the studying that she does on the side. “One way to find out, right? I heard Felix’s not that busy these days back home.”
You feign a frown at the two girls agreeing in unison, especially at Yeji as she takes out her phone from the magical realm. “You know, you’re really good at sticking your head into a lot of things even when you’re busy looking for your brother.” You note dryly, making Yeji laugh while dialling Felix’s phone on the other side. “That was sarcastic, Yeji.” 
“I’m a great multitasker.” She winks before placing her phone at the center of your table then scooting her chair closer to you and Ryujin, effectively hiding the odd-looking device that projects Felix’s face almost immediately. “Hey Lix!”
“Hi Lix!” You politely greet along with Ryujin anyway, waving to the small projection of the prince on Yeji’s phone. By the faint greenery that surrounds him, you immediately assume that he’s back at home and tending to his personal garden. 
“I’m not in trouble, am I?” The younger Eastern prince jokes, greeting the three of you individually after. “What’s up? Seungmo and Sungie not with you three today?” 
“Seungmin got held back in class today for a TA offering and your brother’s on a date! Can you believe it? A lunch date with a human girl!” Yeji explains a little too excitedly, you and Ryujin immediately shushing her up. Giggling, the princess continues anyway, “Which is why we called! We just thought it’s a little weird that Jisung’s not trying to catch this red heart when it’s a clear advantage to his tally and maybe you’d know why.” 
All the while Yeji explains your purpose for calling, you slowly observe how Felix’s own expression morphs into that of genuine surprise. “What? He hasn’t taken it?!” He exclaims in response after Yeji finishes speaking. “Are you sure? That’s not very like him.” 
“Well, why do you think he hasn’t taken it, then?” You suddenly find yourself asking this time, earning you incredulous looks from your peers. Brushing them off, you simply glance over at Felix as he tries thinking of a reason himself. 
“Maybe he still can’t reject admirers for shit.” Ryujin snickers under her breath, making you elbow the girl harshly on her side. 
But surprisingly, Felix nods absentmindedly to this. “Maybe…”
“Are you seriously agreeing with that, Lix?” You frown. “I think he’s just up to no good.” 
“Hey, Ji can act weird and not be up to trouble too, you know.” Felix pouts back. “But honestly, I don’t know why he’s not thinking of taking it either, especially knowing how he’s so proud of getting to receive it alone. Maybe he likes this person, who knows?” 
The thought feels so foreign to you, Jisung genuinely liking someone, especially knowing what he did when you were much younger. But when you glance over to your friends, you also notice the same confused looks on their faces. 
“Han Jisung...liking someone? Enough to respect their feelings?” Ryujin muses out loud before eventually shaking her head. “Nope, sounds weird. Dangerous! Alien! Y/N, have you been noticing any other weird things from your housemate lately? Maybe he’s been secretly abducted by aliens!” 
“Oh stop it, Ryujin! Whatever it is my brother’s planning, I trust that he at least has an idea what he’s doing.” Felix sighs, running a hand through his blonde locks. In the background of his end, the faint voice of Changbin beckoning him over momentarily catches his attention. “If he’s being stupid again, then just let him be. If he does like this person, though, I just hope that he treads carefully while he’s at it. You know how precious witch ecures are.” 
“Oh, I know…” You murmur under your breath as you scrunch up your nose, unconsciously glancing over to Jisung and Soonyoung’s table where the two are laughing over something you can’t hear from across the room. When Changbin’s voice grows louder on Felix’s end, you then smoothly steer the topic to a close, “Anyway, sorry for bothering you at this time. Bin’s calling for you.” 
Next to you, Ryujin and Yeji agree with nods and smiles as Felix waves his free hand dismissively at this. “No, it’s okay! Just look out for my brother, yeah? I gotta go, Queen Lia just arrived for tea with me and my mom!” 
“Oh, then we’ll see you!” “Have fun at tea!” “Say hi to Lia for us!” 
Felix waves one last goodbye before ending the call. As his image disappears from Yeji’s phone, the princess is quick to pocket her phone back and turn to you with a raised brow, “So, what do you think? Even Lix finds it weird.” 
Personally, you think it’s odd. The thought that Jisung could easily be developing feelings for someone while taking your exam, to someone human no less.  You’ll probably never admit it to him but he’s been working hard in collecting hearts up to this point and you know him enough to know that he won’t let himself get distracted with something like this. “What is he planning exactly?” 
-
You’re giving Jisung that look again, through the boy’s reflection on the bus mirror no less as the two of you head to Chan’s studio where he has promised the two of you dinner. The same look you kept giving him during your welcome party just last month, probably without you knowing, rests on your tired features as you listen to music on your phone and rest your cheek against your propped up hand on the window seat you almost threw him out of the bus for. What did I do now? The boy can’t help but whine pitifully to himself as he steals another glance at your direction while scrolling through his phone. 
Jisung helplessly rakes his brain for anything that he’s done today that could’ve possibly pissed you off while pretending to look down on his phone, missing the way you shift uncomfortably in your seat as if you were going to ask a question. 
“So—” “I meant to ask—”
Jisung’s immediately closes his mouth shut when the two of you speak at the same time, eyes widening when he looks up and sees you already looking over at him directly. Simultaneously, you’re quick to look away from him and cough awkwardly, quietly mumbling out that Jisung speaks first. “Go ahead.” 
“What did I do this time?” Jisung immediately goes for it, pouting and sinking into his seat for extra emphasis. This visibly surprises you by the way your eyes widen slightly and you visibly freeze in front of him. “You’ve been glaring at me from the window since it started getting dark outside and it’s starting to get annoying but I’m too tired from today to think of everything that I did today to pinpoint where I ticked you off again.” 
Your lips curl down to a frown and you bring your propped up arm back to your side, sinking down your own seat to his level. “I wasn’t glaring at you!” 
“Yes you were—” “—No, I wasn’t!” “Yes you—”
“Okay, then, if I was glaring at you like you said, it’s because I meant to ask you something.” You huff before shyly looking away, gazing out of the window again. “W-Why haven’t you...whyhaventyoutakenthatgirlsheart?”
Now, Jisung is even more confused than ever from not understanding a word you just said. Raising a curious brow, the prince nudges you by your shoulder with his own until you look back at him again, uttering a slow, “What?!” 
You inhale slowly, as if holding your embarrassment in, before repeating, “Why haven’t you taken Soonyoung’s heart?” 
“I—really? That’s what you wanted to ask?” That’s it? So I didn’t do shit? Whew...
You nod, crossing your arms and looking away. “Well, don’t act so smug now! I’m just curious, it’s powerful and worth a lot of points, after all.”
Caught off-guard, it takes Jisung a worryingly long time to answer your question. He looks down on his phone first, with his emerald ring right next to it, before glancing over to the distant LED screen at the very front of the bus, announcing the next stop. “Just because…” He trails off with a reluctant shrug, avoiding the feeling of your curious gaze. If it were any other situation, maybe involving a lower-ranking heart like a yellow, green, or even an orange one, he would be laughing at you and teasing that you’re obsessed with his count or trying to compare it with your own. “You, of all people should know…” 
But it’s a red heart, one that’s made him a bit too flustered for him to admit to anyone, even to his own brother. “I don’t know what I’ll do with it.” He answers vaguely because of this, hearing a little ‘oh’ from your side. “I already told Soonyoung over lunch that I don’t see her like that but it’s still red. Her feelings are too sincere for me and I feel like I can’t take advantage of that, not for a competition.” 
Jisung doesn’t hear any verbal response from your side after this, not even when the LED screen ahead announces that you’re nearing your stop. When he glances over to you through the window, however, he catches a glimpse of the smallest hint of a content smile on your features. 
Only when the two of you arrive at your stop, while you’re following him down the stairs down from the bus, do you nudge him on his side once more and say, “I guess that’s sweet of you. Plus, you’re actually using your head for once.” 
Your soft smile momentarily catches him off-guard, freezing him on the sidewalk, until a passerby brushes him by his shoulder and snaps him back to reality. “Y-Ya! What’s that supposed to mean?!” 
You wave your hand dismissively at him with a laugh, running off ahead to Chan’s studio. “Last one to the studio is a lousy runner and won’t get dessert!” 
“Hey! Y/N! What’s that supposed to mean? Did you just call me stupid?!” 
-
The next day, a ‘secret admirer’ leaves a red apple, a milk box, and an unsigned heart-shaped note on your usual table as you enter Math class. Though the note has your name and its message typed and printed, a simple nonverbal spell that you cast over the gifts reveal a familiar fingerprint. 
“So, who’s it from?” Jisung asks, swiftly swiping the apple from your table and taking a huge bite. “How many points are we looking at here?” 
You scoff at his action, taking the apple for yourself and biting on the opposite side. “It’s from Soonyoung.” You answer with a mischievous smile, causing your competitor to choke. When you glance over at the girl’s table, your eyes briefly turn blue to see a pinkish heart for you. “I guess you don’t want her red heart, huh? Mind if I make a pink one from her into a red for me?” 
Jisung coughs violently, thumping his fist against his chest as he recovers. “Y-Ya! Don’t you dare!” 
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three out of six months 
One thing you’ve been most looking forward to in this Crown Candidacy exam, besides seeing your cousin and friends currently staying in the human world and helping with Hyunjin’s search, is getting to see your cousin’s boyfriend again. Though the rest of your family doesn’t really approve of Minho, mostly since he’s the reason why Chan renounced his duke title in the first place and why your cousin might be permanently tied to the human world in the future, you’ve taken a liking to the guy since you first met him on a short visit 2 years ago and have been looking forward to hanging out in person once more after a long while. 
Minho makes Chan the happiest you’ve ever seen him since you were kids, cooks really well, travels the world as a performing artist, and is totally cool with the idea that his boyfriend is a wizard from another realm. Plus, he catches onto magical items really quick, having adapted quickly to using your realm’s inter-world mailing system hence how you’ve been keeping in touch up until this point. You honestly don’t see any reason to hate him, even before meeting him in person. If anything, knowing that it’s Minho that’s keeping Chan from fulfilling his royal duties makes you support your cousin’s decision even more than before. 
However, you’re already halfway done with your exam and Minho is still nowhere to be seen. He initially promised you that he’ll cook you and Jisung a meal as soon as you arrived but last-minute plans in his touring schedule with a ballet company held him back abroad, postponing this plan indefinitely and making you focus more on school and helping look for Hyunjin. 
That is until you and Jisung came home from your usual Saturday grocery errands to inhale the smell of meat and mushroom soup coming from the kitchen. 
“Is Chan cooking?” Jisung raised a brow at this, closing the door behind you and walking further inside the house. “It smells nice, though. So it’s not him?” 
You roll your eyes, biting down a laugh at this surprisingly funny quip. “That’s definitely not Chan.” You affirm anyways, excitedly walking past him to the kitchen where you find the familiar back of a person stirring a big pot of soup next to Chan who’s chopping up side dishes. “Minho!” 
Jisung follows you to the kitchen and watches from the doorframe as this said Minho turns around, opening his arms out to hug you as you quickly drop your groceries on the dining table and run towards him. Next to you two, Chan stops his own work and laughs at the sight, prying you away after a moment and reminding you, “Hey, hey, Minho’s tired from his flight!”
“Tired? Then you make him cook dinner? I don’t think so!” You giggle, clutching onto Minho like a koala while the said boy pretends to shrug you off. “I was wondering when you’re coming home! You haven’t even written since I came here, you jerk!” 
“My schedule was jam-packed until the other day but I promised some magic freaks that I’ll cook them dinner so I came home as soon as I can.” Minho laughs, hugging you back and only then catching sight of a confused Jisung. “Oh, hi there! You must be Han Jisung?” 
“Y-Yeah?” Jisung nods slowly in confusion, raising one hand holding multiple eco-bags up in a wave. He hates it when he’s not in the loop of things but more importantly, he hates it when it’s you keeping him out of the loop in particular. Who’s this guy?! “Sorry, and you are?” 
“Lee Minho! I’m keeping Chan hostage here on Earth.” Minho formally introduces himself, earning him a nudge from both you and Chan. “What? Should I curtsy? I know your family and Hyunjin’s doesn’t really require it but I don’t know about the others so—” 
Oh. At this, Jisung visibly relaxes with a chuckle and finally approaches your little group, settling his own share of the groceries down on the dining table before sitting down himself. Chan then takes this as his cue to reluctantly drag you over next to Jisung while he and Minho finish cooking. “No, no, it’s cool! We’re not at home, anyway.” 
“Okay, then, cool. You guys are okay with waiting for a little bit, right? The lamb’s not fully cooked yet.” Minho explains. “I was going to make you two a meal when your exam started but I got caught up in work so—”
“Yeah it’s fine!” You agree eagerly, taking out your groceries and organizing them on the table. “We’ll just fix up the groceries.” 
Jisung side-eyes you with an incredulous look in his eyes, something Chan definitely notices as his lips quirk up into a knowing grin before whispering something to Minho. “Why are you so chirpy all of a sudden?” He asks you, helping you take out the groceries and arrange them into their respective shelves. 
“What do you mean? I’ve been chirpy since this morning.” You scoff. “Why do you even keep track? I told you not to stare at me, weirdo.”
“Um no, you weren’t. You were complaining about me breathing next to you on the bus a while ago. ‘You’re not helping me get any hearts’ or whatever it was you were rambling about a while back.” Jisung points out with a huff. “And I don’t stare, that’s you! If anything, you’re the weirdo, always up my business!”
“Well, why wouldn’t I complain? I was at the market with you all day! You don’t know how to pick good vegetables and you kept flirting with the store clerks to try and up their orange hearts to pink ones! Then, you wore that stupid perfume again when I told you already that it smells bad! Now we’re at home and you can stay the fuck away from me.” 
“Ya, you little sh—” 
Across the kitchen, Minho giggles in amusement at hearing you and Jisung bicker live for the first time. You’ve always complained about this Jisung fellow in your correspondence and he’s never had a clear grasp as to why you’re always at this boy’s neck but now that he’s meet Jisung in the flesh and is starting to hear what you two are exactly fighting about, Minho can’t help but laugh into the mushroom soup. “So this is the troublemaker who’s been bugging our Y/N.” He ends up musing out loud. “I see why you need me home now.”
“Believe me, you should’ve seen them grow up together with the other kids. Always fighting over the smallest of things, competing on who’s better, and all that.” Chan rolls his eyes in disinterest, glancing over to you and Jisung as the latter starts chasing you around the dining area with a bundle of scallions. “What you’re seeing right now is barely the tip of the iceberg, Min.”
“Reminds you a little bit of us back then, don’t you think?” 
“Ya, and which one am I supposed to be?” 
The couple glances over their shoulders to see that you’ve now successfully snatched the scallions from Jisung with your magic and have started to hit him over the head with it. This then makes Chan squint his eyes suspiciously at Minho who only chuckles. “Babe, you and Y/N are definitely related, don’t you think?” 
“Do you also want to get hit with scallions?” 
-
Though Jisung was initially wary of Minho at the start of the evening, having only heard of him vaguely from gossip among the other royal kids prior, your cousin’s boyfriend slowly and naturally transitioned over the prince’s good graces as soon as the lamb chops and mushroom soup were served along with stories of Minho’s own adventures and questions about the magical realm. Now that he’s put a name and a face to the person that people back home simply referred to as the reason why Chan left (and who he’s admittedly been blaming as well for the sudden shift in your attitude at the royal courts), Jisung now genuinely believes that the people back at home jumped to their conclusions quickly about Minho. 
Minho’s really nice, Chan is really fond of him and you clearly support the two. In return, Minho looks out for you and Chan, you in particular as the older guy proceeds to drill Jisung shamelessly with questions on whatever it is that you’ve mentioned about him in your letters. 
Jisung didn’t even know a lot of the things Minho kept rambling on about while you tried so hard to keep his mouth shut next to him by helplessly trying to cover his mouth.
“Y/N talks about you a whoooooooole lot. Like, a minor inconvenience during their royal duties then they’re quick to talk to me about it.” Minho grins playfully, dodging your attempts at shutting him up while he eats his share of the pastry dessert. “When we first met and this candidate exam thing was first brought up, they talked about the other royals briefly but they talked about you in super great detail! Oh, and Y/N was rambling a lot about how you reacted to when they confessed to you in middle school and everything, it was so funn—” 
“Minho shut up!” 
“It was really funny!” Minho pins your wrists to the table after a while, gesturing towards Chan, sitting next to Jisung across the table, who then uses his magic to switch your places. This then effectively shuts you up as your flustered expression overcomes your face upon accidentally locking eyes with Jisung right after. “But I want to know what actually happened when you rejected Y/N at your magic school? I want the full scope of what happened just so I get both sides!”
“Y-Ya!” You protest, only to be silenced by Jisung this time who laughs as he swallows a mouthful of food. “Ugh, you’re enjoying this aren’t you?”
“Why do you still talk about that, anyway? It was a long time ago.” Jisung chuckles, propping an elbow up on the table and resting his cheek on his palm as he glances over to you with a smirk. “God, you’re in love with me, aren’t you?” 
“No, I’m no—” “So, Minho hyung, what did Y/N tell you about that?” 
-
It was in the 7th grade, on Valentine’s Day of all days even, when you confessed your crush to Han Jisung. You actually didn’t plan any of it to happen because you just thought of it as stupid, especially at the thought that almost everything Jisung used to do back then annoyed you and made you think of him as childish. 
But Hyunjin somehow slipped you an enchanted cookie on that day as a prank after you confessed at Ryujin’s party the previous weekend that you thought that Jisung was cute sometimes (”I specifically said sometimes and it was one time. Clearly, it wasn’t me who had a problem, right?” “That still doesn’t change the fact that 12-year-old you had a crush on me, Y/N.”). He told you that it was from a batch Felix made for their baking class, bluffing about its distinct strong vanilla scent as a mistake on the younger Eastern prince’s end. 
As it then turned out, however, the cookie was laced with a potion that forcefully exposed the true color that your heart reflected towards Jisung in front of the entire cafeteria while the two of you bickered over some mishap that happened in one of your shared potion classes. Being young as he was as well and feeling embarrassed of all the passersby that looked at you both, Jisung’s fight or flight response made him visibly cringe at seeing the surprisingly pink, bordering red, heart and childishly berated you for it until the potion wore off and your ecure disappeared back into the sleeves of your robes. You ran away crying while Jisung didn’t go to school for the few days that followed in embarrassment.
“You were like 12 back then, it happens.” Minho shrugs after yours and Jisung’s messy storytelling. “And for the record, Y/N, if Chan did that to me as Jisung, I would’ve been annoyed at him too. Your rants are totally valid.” 
“I’m eating my croissants in peace.” Chan complains, slapping the younger man’s arm. “Don’t drag me into this.” 
Simultaneously, Jisung glances over to you and sees a small pout rest on your features. “Well, I don’t know, it’s not really an ‘it happens’ kind of situation if you come from our world.” You point out, glaring at Jisung when you feel him staring at you. “Especially back then. My heart was looking pink and a little reddish for Jisung at the time—ew—which gave him the power to take it if he wanted to.”
Now, this is apparently new information to Minho as he then asks, “You can do that? I thought witches only have one heart so it can’t be taken away?”
“Yeah, exactly.” You nod. “Since we don’t produce the crystal hearts as infinitely as you humans do, it could only be taken if it’s pink or a higher color. It’s the natural law in our world.”
“And if that happens, the witch could become weak, controlled by the other witch who takes their heart, or killed.” Chan quips in this time. “That’s why marriage is sort of a permanent commitment back at home and witches are more encouraged to use human ecure when performing higher-level magic.” 
“That’s a bit of a stretch in our case, though! It’s not like 12-year-old me would think of killing Y/N back then.” Jisung purses his lips into a thin line at you, unamused. “You really are a bit dramatic sometimes, you know? What would I even do with your heart?”
“You were 12, Jisung. Who knows what you were thinking back then...if you were thinking at all.” You retort immediately, turning to Minho again after. “That’s why my family’s a bit wary about you, Min, no offense. With you and Chan in a relationship, he can give up his heart to you but if you don’t reciprocate it by exchanging with one of your own, he might get weak or die.” 
This then makes Jisung turn to Minho as well, curious as to what his response would be. 
Unfazed, Minho smiles and turns lovingly to his boyfriend. “Then, aren’t you lucky I’m obsessed with you, huh?” 
“Really now?” Chan chuckles, slinging his arm over Minho’s shoulder and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Then I guess I can stay here permanently, right?” 
You pretend to gag as you sip on your water, reminding the older guys that there are “children” in front of them. Jisung rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair at this scene, looking away at the tender display of affection across the table. The two of you don’t even have to check how the pair’s ecures reflect towards each other with your magic to know that they’re a matching bright red. 
When he looks over to you, he catches the briefest and fondest smile gracing your expression as you mumble about how “stupidly cute” Chan and Minho are being. Jisung knows he shouldn’t look, not in this moment when he sees you at a vulnerable state and you would slap him over the head if he teases you about it, but his eyes unconsciously turn green and peeks over at your ecure as it watches over your favourite cousin and his boyfriend. 
It’s a bright blue, a sign of deep respect and familial love for Chan and Minho. Jisung looks away immediately when you glance up at him curiously, forcing his eyes back to their natural color before he could accidentally see how your heart reflects to him. “What?” 
He gets it now. Why you’ve been so uptight in fulfilling your royal duties, snapping just a little more easily these days whenever he annoys you, and acting like a pushover to the elders who keep ordering you around back at home. You’ve been shouldering a lot of the responsibilities back home, both yours and the ones that Chan has left behind, all because you want your cousin to be happy in this world without worries. 
“Why were you looking at me?” You pout. “You didn’t check my—ya, Han Jisung!”
“I wasn’t looking at you like that! I was gonna ask you to pass me the cream puffs!”
You begrudgingly pass him the bowl of cream puffs, rolling your eyes before smiling at Minho and Chan again and changing the conversation to something else. “Anyway, Minho, you’re staying longer now, right?”  
“I saw what you did at dinner, by the way. Y/N would beat you to a pulp if they knew you were looking into their heart, especially since we were just talking about it.” Chan speaks up after a moment of walking around Jisung’s room, tidying up the fallen music sheets on the ground and closing the curtains for the night. You’ve long stolen Minho from your cousin right after dinner hours ago to binge his tour videos and so he’s resorted to hanging out with Jisung, playing video games until the clock struck midnight.  
Jisung pouts as he tucks himself away in bed, turning to his side to face Chan as the older boy continues arranging his “messy” work table. “I looked at how it reflects for you and Minho, not at how it looks at me. Just that, swear.” He clarifies in between protesting over Chan’s actions (“It’s an organized mess!” “It’s a mess, Jisung.”) “It’s almost like your family’s sapphire when it looks at the two of you, bluer than how it looks when Y/N’s with the King and the High Queen. You’re more family to them than their own parents.”
This effectively freezes Chan in place for a moment, a small smile gracing the former duke’s features. “Of course I know that.” He replies, almost as an inaudible mumble from across the room. “That’s why it was so hard to leave at first.”
“Then why did you—?” 
“Because Y/N told me to.” Moving to the door and preparing to leave, Chan sees Jisung’s face and continues, “Believe me, I was even more conflicted than you’re being right now back then. We both know that my own siblings are too young to shoulder the job I’ll leave behind but Y/N told me that they’ll gladly handle it if it meant that I can be happy here. We argued about it a lot, I kept telling them that I can just juggle moving between the two realms, but you know how persuasive and stubborn Y/N can be.” 
The last comment makes Jisung chuckle. Of all people, he should know of it the best. “It’s just hard to argue with them.” He nods in agreement. “I heard they’re the one who got you this house and everything.” 
Chan nods, slowly putting one foot out of the door. “Y/N cares a lot, sometimes a little too much, that they end up sacrificing a lot and putting their own feelings last because of it. Since I went away, I’ve only ever been worried that they’ll just explode one day, actually, but I know you and the other kids keep them in check.” 
“I’d hardly call Y/N relaxed with me.” Jisung pouts, fiddling with his fingers nervously as he confesses this shyly. “I think they just find me annoying…” 
“Oh you definitely annoy each other but that’s just how you two are together. It’s all in good fun and that’s good, especially now that you’re going to take much more responsibilities once you go back home.” Chan notes with a shrug, briefly glancing over his shoulder as you and Minho arrive on the second floor. “Just be a little gentler with them. Night, Sung.” 
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four out of six months
You know better than to expect nothing less from Lee Chaeryoung, one of the best investigators from your realm, as she helped Yeji lead Hyunjin’s search party. When you initially expected that she would finish scouting Incheon before the end of the semester, she came back with the most solid lead that anyone’s picked up since the start of the search party around Seoul with 2 months left on your time in the human world. 
Apparently, from the scouring she’s done beyond the initial parameters of the search, a few magic and non-magic folk living around the beach area have seen the Southern kingdom’s prince at a party on the night he disappeared, interacting with a strange group of people they only described by their unusually white hairs, matching snake tattoos, and icy blue eyes. What was even more interesting is that these people were still around the area when Chaeryoung visited but without any sign of Hyunjin. With this, she could only confirm that they’re also from the magical realm.
“They could only be Northwestern ogre witches, I’m sure of it.” Chan commented after hearing Chaeryoung’s report over dinner with everyone present. When Minho then asked about it, your cousin didn’t hesitate to explain, “A group of witches back home who were initially banished to the wastelands because they practiced darker arts and only collected black ecures. Lately, a lot of them have been turning up here and doing gods-know-what.” 
“But if they only want the artifact that Hyunjin recovered, why would they still keep him?” You ask, crossing your arms over the dining table as Chaeryoung showed you photos of the location she ascouted on her phone. “Hyunjin’s high-profile too, yes, but unless they want him to collect colored ecures for them, there’s no other reason to keep him captive when there are other magic folk there. Why him?” 
“Unless they have something bigger up their sleeves.” Seungmin notes with a frown, closing Chaeryoung’s phone as he grows more and more upset from across the table. When you and Jisung glance over to him curiously, he then meets your eyes and adds, “Maybe we shouldn’t let you two go with us on this.” 
“What?! Why?” Jisung is the first to instinctively speak up against this, sitting up taller in his seat. You echo the same question, albeit a little quieter when you see Chan nodding worriedly on your side. 
“I have a feeling that they might be after the two of you too from this.” Seungmin explains once Jisung calmed down a bit from his sudden outburst. “Like Y/N said, keeping Hyunjin to collect colored ecures against his will doesn’t seem like a good enough reason, at least not this long.”
“It’s timed perfectly, too, that they caught Hyunjin right before the candidacy exam.” Yeji quips in, belatedly nodding in agreement to Seungmin’s suggestion. “They might be luring you two specifically by using my brother.” 
“But that’s just a hunch for now! We don’t know th—” 
Chan’s entire disposition in a flash, slamming his hand down on the table a little too loudly and effectively shutting everyone up around the table including Minho. “That’s exactly why we can’t risk it.” He counters firmly and you know, just by the tone of your cousin’s voice, that he already has the final word. “Remember, you and Y/N are here first and foremost because you’re taking your exam. Keeping you on wraps with this search is formalities, at most. Anyway, there’s enough of us here who can look for Hyunjin. You two just stay put until we can sort this out and ensure that this problem stops interfering with the exam any further.”
When you peek over to your right to glance at Jisung’s reaction two seats away, you see him glancing back at you from the corner of his eyes before sighing in defeat. “And if they want our group separated?” 
“The house’s enchanted with protective spells. Minho and Ryujin will also stay and watch over you two while we extract Hyunjin over the weekend.” Chan notes, continuing before Jisung could complain further. “That’s final, Ji. We’ll take over from here.” 
“Don’t fret too much, Sung.” Seungmin adds comfortingly. “Anyway, if we find Hyunjin, we’ll all stay here for a few days before going back home.” 
In response, you hear Jisung slam his back on his seat hard before huffing childishly, glancing over to you as he opens his mouth. Knowing that he’ll throw a fit, you immediately shake your head, forbidding him from doing so. “Fine...” He murmurs under his breath with a sigh, knowing better than to start an argument with one of his best friends at this time. “Just—just bring Hyunjin back quickly.” 
Somehow, even when you understand where Chan’s coming from, you also feel somewhat bad for Jisung. You want to see Hyunjin too but your circumstances aren’t exactly favourable to let you be of much help. 
As much as Jisung used to hate how Chan coddled you, he hates it even more now that the same behavior is directed towards him, especially in situations like this when he wants to actively help in Hyunjin’s search. The circumstances couldn’t have been more unfavorable to him now: the group finding a lead but at a time when he’s participating in an exam that has him more at risk of being targeted by creatures from the magical realm that have strayed to this world. 
On top of this, he hates how he can clearly see that you want to see Hyunjin just as much as he and everyone else does but you’re quicker to comply the moment Chan, and eventually even Yeji, put the two of you on house arrest for the weekend while the rest of the group goes to Incheon. It frustrates him to no end that you keep quietly complying to everyone else when you clearly want to do something else. And, as a result, you end up channeling your energy aggressively elsewhere much like today as you spend most of your Sunday cleaning and redecorating around the expansive house with Minho. 
“Can’t you two like, tone it down a bit?” Jisung complains for the third time this afternoon as he plays with the music software on Chan’s laptop, lifting his feet off of the coffee table in the living room when Minho passes by with a vacuum before pushing a levitating plant that hovers too close for comfort to his face. Somewhere, Ryujin has retreated outside to the garden in order to tend to more plants. “The house’s going to get thrashed after a while anyway.” 
“And why can’t you help clean?” You ask back in retort, fluffing up the pillows next to him as you occasionally glance over your shoulder to make sure that the levitating objects around the room aren’t falling over. “If you’re just going to complain while we’re cleaning here, you can just go up to your room since we’re done upstairs, anyway.” 
Jisung pouts, crawling over to the other side of the sofa anyway when you gesture for him to move. “The sunlight’s better here at this time.” He points to the glass windows. “Just finish up quickly already.” 
“If you want to get some sun, you can help Ryujin outside.” You poke back, moving over to the sofa across the coffee table. As you move, the hovering plant pots slowly move to where you want to relocate them to, one moving next to the sofa almost hitting Jisung in the face once more with its leaves. “Make yourself useful, Jisung.” 
The witch in question scoffs, closing Chan’s laptop and finally planting his feet back on the floor to a stand. Jisung also hates that tone you use when you order him around because it always makes him do whatever you ask without fail. “Fine, I’m going outside.” He grumbles, trudging to the direction of the back door leading outside and making sure to close the door with a loud thud. 
Out in the gardens, Ryujin is busy reviving dried up leaves and flowers while a few watering cans go around to water the trees and bushes. Upon seeing Jisung walking down the mini stairs with a pout and furrowed brows, the younger witch can’t help but laugh, “Y/N banished you outside?” 
“I’m supposed to help you but you don’t even look like you need help at all.” The prince continues to grumble, setting himself down on a foldable chair and crossing his bare arms over his chest. “If I do help, I might actually kill the plants. You already know how I’m terrible I am at healing magic.” 
Ryujin acknowledges with a hum, turning her attention back to Chan’s mini garden of camellias. “Just sunbathe, look around or whatever, I can handle this.” She assures with a smile. “I won’t tell Y/N too, don’t worry.” 
“I think I’ll take you up on that looking around thing later.” Jisung sighs, sinking into his seat and closing his eyes. “I’ll nap for now.” 
“He just does whatever you say, huh?” Minho points out to you as soon as you finish cleaning the living room, tiredly taking up the empty space next to you on the couch with two pillows hugged close to his chest. When you open your mouth to protest, “I know I said it’s amusing when you two bicker over stupid things but it’s actually really nice and quiet when you two reach compromise like this. So peaceful.” 
“He just knows when to not mess with me. Don’t exaggerate it.” You scoff at this, pushing Minho away from you as you lift your legs up to the coffee table. “He knows that I feel the need to be busy when I’m on edge like this but he was in the way. The least he could do is either be useful around the house too or just stay out of my sight for a while.” 
“Don’t be too worried, I’m sure they’re all being careful and getting to Hyunjin soon.” Minho assures you with a small smile, waving his human world phone in front of you as it displays a flurry of messages from Chan. “If it makes you feel better, your cousin’s been asking me about you and Jisung as much as he’s been updating me of what’s happening.”
You frown at this, making Minho chuckle. “He’s been talking to you but not to me? I’m his cousin!” 
“He knows you’re redecorating his house in 50 different styles while you wait for him so he just asks about you through me. Don’t get it twisted, Y/N.” The older boy continues laughing, carefully shoving a pillow away from his face when you levitate it closer to him. “Anyway, they said that they’ve confirmed that the ogres are still staying at the beach resort so they’re planning to get to them tonight and confirm if they really took Hyunjin.”
Your expression visibly shifts more positively, eyes widening and mouth hanging agape. “Really?” 
“If things go smoothly, everyone, including Hyunjin, would be home really soon. Until then, Chan has asked me to make sure that you and Jisung don’t kill each other or go outside without permission.” 
You shove Minho once more at the last statement, mustering up a laugh this time. “Hey, we’re not that childish.” You point out with a pout before another thought crosses your mind. “Oh, right, I can tell Jisung, right? I mean, it’s just an update anyway.” 
“Yeah, go ahead.” Minho nods, poking you on your side to get you to stand up. “It’s also getting dark out, call Ryujin in too so we can reheat some leftovers for dinner.” 
You scoff at the thought of leftovers for dinner, standing up anyway and heading outside where the sun has indeed set on the horizon. As you walk down the steps leading down to the backyard, you easily spot Ryujin by the back gate as she flirts with one of your neighbors who holds an orange heart up her sleeve but it takes you a moment to see Jisung fast asleep under one of the outdoor umbrellas. 
“Ryujin!” You call for your friend, biting down your lip when the girl she’s been flirting with awkwardly looks away and your friend in question consequently glares at you for interrupting her. “Where’s Jisung?” 
“There.” Ryujin quickly points towards the outdoor umbrellas on the far corner of the backyard before turning her gaze back on your neighbor whose heart immediately turns a shy pink at this. 
You roll your eyes at this with a chuckle before heading over to Jisung, finding him snoring lightly and snuggling into a pillow despite the cold evening breeze. He doesn’t budge an inch when you call his name or poke his side, stirring only when you slap his cheek gently awake by instinctively swatting your hand away and mumbling a string of curses for you to go away. “What?!” 
“It’s starting to get cold out here. Come on, we’re eating dinner in a while.” You respond, taking the pillow from him and grabbing him by the arm to help him stand up. When he doesn’t budge, you resort to adjusting his hoodie at least so he doesn’t freeze himself to death. “Minho also said that Chan’s been texting him. Everyone’s okay so far and they’ll interrogate the ogres tonight, maybe even get Hyunjin if they really took him.” 
Jisung finally springs awake at this, jumping to a stand in surprise. “What? Really? Is there—well, is there anything else?” He asks quickly, stumbling over his words in shock while you drag him back inside. 
Ryujin follows along after a while, running to the kitchen to check what you’re having for dinner. You and Jisung walk a little slower as he rubs his eyes from his surprisingly long nap next to you, somehow not making a fuss this time about your linked arms. 
“Sadly, that’s only what I got from Minho a while back so I guess we’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning for anything new.” You answer his previous question as you head to the kitchen where Ryujin and Minho reheat leftovers and make some new side dishes. When you see Jisung’s ears perk up slightly at your words, you quickly add, “Don’t try staying up late just for an update. You should get some more sleep after dinner so you don’t look like a ghost when we see Hyunjin again.” 
He scoffs at this, sitting down on the dining table and dragging you along with him on the adjacent seat. “How can I sleep if I know that we’re so close to seeing Hyunjin again after months? I’ll stay up late if I want to!”
“And I’ll kill you two if you stay up all night then get all cranky tomorrow when you have to get to class.” Minho cuts you off before you could even speak, setting the dishes down on the table. “Okay, eat up!” 
“That was him, not me.” You shrug at Jisung’s semi-permanent pout with a chuckle, receiving a plate and utensils before thanking Minho for the food. “Eat up, Ji.” 
You don’t even have to glance back over to his direction to know that he has his usual determined look plastered over his face again. Because of the new update on Hyunjin’s situation, he’s suddenly more alert now that he might actually take you up on staying awake the entire night. 
-
“Jisung, are you awake?” 
Jisung doesn’t really expect you to hold true to your word and check up on him at 3 AM when Ryujin and Minho have both gone to sleep. You suddenly knock on his door while he’s in the middle of a song he’s been trying to write on his guitar lately, startling the poor boy who almost falls off of the window and causes a big fuss about it. 
“Are you okay in there?” You ask worriedly from outside after knocking for the 4th time, the doorknob clicking gently after. When only shuffles reach your ear on the other side, you immediately add, “Hey, I’m coming in!” 
Jisung doesn’t even have time to protest, catching a glimpse of you going in and closing the door as a tray of mugs trails behind you. Quickly hiding the guitar by the curtains, he clumsily scrambles up to a stand and retrieves the tray from the air, “H-Hi! You made...tea?” 
“Those two mugs are for me.” You pretend to swat his hand away jokingly, joining him on the small balcony on the other side of his window. Spotting his guitar hidden haphazardly on the side, you’re quick to pick it up and slide it over your lap while Jisung’s occupied with the tea, strumming a few chords. Only then, do you also notice his music sheets strewn across the balcony, all labelled with the word ‘sunshine.’ “I didn’t know you brought this along. It still plays good, I suppose, but do you still play badly?” 
Jisung scowls at you as he sets the tray down next to his notebook, sitting down criss cross once more before swiftly snatching the guitar from your hands. “I play better than you, at least.” Ignoring your protests, he then strums a few chords of his own and continues, “Why are you still awake, anyway? Don’t you have a 9 AM later?” 
When he turns to you, he sees you taking a sip of your tea first before answering, “I feel like ditching,” a statement he’s definitely never heard from you before by the way his eyes widen in surprise. “Don’t act so surprised! Uni’s just a cover and a way to get hearts while we’re here in the human world, anyway. Since everyone could be here later and there’s a possibility that we’ll see Hyunjin again with them, I wouldn’t want to miss a second of him back.” 
“Don’t tell me, am I rubbing off on you?” Jisung snickers playfully. Deep inside, however, he’s undoubtedly a little impressed. After all, it’s been a while since he’s seen you so carefree outside of royal duties. “This is bad. We’re still competing, you know!”
“Tch, don’t push it. My current count’s quite high so I’m not that worried.” You shake your head in disbelief, leaning back against the windowsill and gazing ahead to the brightly-lit city. “It’s just that it’s been 5 months since Hyunjin’s gone missing and Yeji started combing every inch of Seoul, only to find a lead out in Incheon. I want to see him as much as you do.” 
Jisung nods slowly in agreement, picking up the second mug of tea and taking a sip. It’s chocolate matcha, the flavour you always craved on elementary school field trips back in the magical realm whenever you missed home or so Felix once said. “It’s been that long, huh? And we’ve been here taking our exam for 4 months now.” He muses out loud between sips of tea, warming him up in an instant against the unusually cold night. “Time flies a little weirder when you’re on the other side of the moon, don’t you think?” 
“I think you’ve just been having too much fun flirting with humans.” You point out, gesturing over to his emerald ring. Over the months, you’ve noticed that the vessels grow warmer every time you reach a thousand points which is roughly every 100 hearts or so. In the rare moments these days that Jisung’s ring has accidentally brushed against your skin, usually at the bus or when passing dishes along, the stone feels intimidatingly hot and almost burning. “How much do you have already?” 
“Enough to win against you.” He teases playfully as he hums along to his song, making you scoff. “I mean, it’s been fun. Gaining a lot of ecure here has made my magic feel more powerful but, still, I can’t help but think sometimes that this whole exam would’ve been fun if the 4 of us were complete.” 
You take another sip of your tea, listening along to Jisung’s humming. “If Hyunjin didn’t disappear beforehand and scared off Lia and her parents from letting her compete...yeah, I guess it would’ve been much more fun if we’re all competing together and the exam duration was 1 year like normal.” Thinking about it more, you end up chuckling at imagining how this whole exam could’ve gone differently. “But, at the same time, it’s been fun competing with you so far.” 
“Going soft on me?” He raises a brow with a smirk. “I know we’ve been stuck to each other like glue for the past months but you should look out for that heart of yours, it might turn pink for me again.”
“I mean you’ve put up a fight so far. It’s a professional compliment, don’t exaggerate it.” You roll your eyes with a slight snicker, making him laugh. You purposely ignore his last comment, though, knowing that he wouldn’t really look into your feelings for him, anything but that. “Maybe you’re the one who’s going soft on me. Seungmin told me about the purple hearts.” 
“He what?!” Jisung exclaims, his smug expression instantly morphing into panic as he almost throws his guitar off of the balcony. “Wait, I can explain!” 
You shake your head and wave your hand dismissively. “No, you don’t have to! I understand.” You assure with a laugh, placing your hand on his nearest shoulder and making him sit back down when he wobbles over the messy and narrow space. “Though, yeah, I probably would’ve yelled at you if Seungmin told me any earlier but it’s all said and done now, anyway. I appreciate it, actually.” 
“A lot of guys were being creeps to you so I thought...I got protective, okay? Ryujin and Yeji were getting stares too so even Seungmin would do the same thing to protect them.” Jisung pouts. “I know we’re in a competition and we’re supposed to rake up a bunch of hearts but your dignity’s much more important than some stupid crown...” 
“I know, and I also know that you would’ve done it for Lia if she were here.” You nod understandingly, mustering up a small appreciative smile. Jisung can be sweet if he wants to, you conclude internally. “Ah, seriously, just imagine if there was 4 of us competing. This would’ve been much more fun and less stressful. You would’ve gotten your ass handed to you when you wanted to race to the moon.” 
“Tch, Hyunjin would’ve taken all of the red ecures for himself.” Jisung adds, sharing in your quiet laughs now that the conversation’s shifted once more. “Much like how he charms everyone back home. He might even win, like he always does in every challenge the elders give us. He’s just the favourite!” 
“I can’t wait for him to come home safely. He’s been gone for too long.” You sigh against your tea, tiredly adjusting to the uncomfortable space of the window. Seeing this from the corner of his eyes, Jisung doesn’t hesitate to pass you a pillow and nearby blankets this time which you’re more than grateful for. “I can’t wait for all of this to be over and go home, just visit again when I feel like it.” 
“Me too. I can’t wait to see him.” Jisung sighs, peering down onto the balcony as he adjusts his guitar on his lap. “And I can’t wait to go home, too.” 
And just then, the car that Chan used to drive everyone over to Incheon materializes at the front porch, spewing out Chan, your friends, and Hyunjin who’s supported by Seungmin and Yeji.
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five out of six months 
Hyunjin sports distinctly black cuts and gashes across his arms and legs when you greet the group in front of the house, similar to the ones Chan and Changbin also sported one time when the two also had an encounter with dark magic. Limping on his right leg and supported by his arms, Yeji and Seungmin used their magic to lift him over to the nearest sofa once they’ve reached the other side of Chan’s protective spell from the front door while the rest of the group crash into the vast expanse of the living room. 
“I tried healing him as much as I can so it’s easier for you and Ryujin.” Seungmin huffs, tiredly sitting down on the ground by the coffee table. “He’s mostly fine, just exposed to a lot of dark magic.” 
“And you guys? Are you okay? Is anyone else hurt?” You ask worriedly, darting your eyes over to Chan, Yeji, and Chaeryoung who all individually affirm to you that they’re not nursing any big injuries. “What happened?” 
At that moment, Jisung arrives in the living room with a half-sleepy Minho and a frantically running Ryujin who immediately makes a beeline to Hyunjin and Yeji. Standing next to you, he echoes the exact same question to Seungmin. “What happened? Is Hyunjin going to be okay?” 
You kneel down in front of Hyunjin, right next to Ryujin, and examine the cuts and gashes. Meanwhile, Jisung sits next to Seungmin while Minho runs over to Chan. “Turns out, they’ve been keeping Hyunjin to try and get him to activate the artifact.” Seungmin answers Jisung’s question after a moment, taking out the stolen compass that Hyunjin was supposed to retrieve from this world. “Then they heard that you and Jisung were going to proceed with the exam. So they tried using him as bait as well but the protective spells the elders casted on you two made it hard for them to find you even when they planned to separate our group.” 
“We got there before they could manipulate my brother into it with dark magic.” Yeji continues tiredly in between casting her own spells, making her smaller wounds and a sprained ankle disappear. “They were quite hostile but we managed. It’s just that Hyunjin still hasn’t woken up since we took him.” 
“Then aren’t you glad we stayed at home, Ji?” You mumbled under your breath as you and Ryujin casted spells to identify the magic needed to heal the half-conscious Hyunjin’s injuries. “Hyunjin’s probably not waking up because of exposure. We’ll have to determine just how much dark magic those witches used.” 
Behind you, Jisung grumbles stubbornly at your comment. “So, is Hyunjin okay? What’s the diagnosis?”
Hovering your hand over Hyunjin’s chest, his heart suddenly reflects a horrifying black over your magic and making yours and Ryujin’s eyes widen. “Oh no…” 
“What?” Suddenly, Jisung’s next to you and peering over Hyunjin’s ecure. “What the hell? Why is his heart black?” 
Ryujin then places her hands over Hyunjin’s forehead, going through his fresher memories as her eyes turn a bright blue. “He’s...it’s an ancient spell, a really powerful one.” She eventually concludes, turning to Chan after. “Chan, do you think you can take a look at this?” 
Across the room, Chan stands up with Minho’s help, having just treated a healing cut on his leg, and sits on Ryujin’s other side to briefly access the same memories. “The three of us can do it,” He gestures to you and Ryujin with pursed lips. “But it’ll take hours and a whole lot of ecure. We’ll need to purify his heart with an equally powerful spell.” 
From the corner of your eye, you see Jisung immediately turn to you in worry, as if he already knows what you’re going to say. “Y/N, don’t—”
But you’re already reaching for your locket, forcing the stone to reveal its contents. “I can give up mine. It’ll save you both your energies and time.” You assure, tuning out Jisung’s protests.
“A-Are you sure?” Ryujin asks worriedly, echoing Jisung’s concerns. Next to her, Chan shakes his head at you in equal concern. “Y/N, these are your ecures for the candidacy exam, you can’t just—not right now when you’re almost do—”
“That’s not important right now. What’s important is that we save Hyunjin.” You nod without any hesitation. “Anyway, I have enough for both purifying Hyunjin’s heart and healing his wounds. It’s fine.” 
You then take out more hearts from your locket, the clumped crystals of oranges, greens, pinks, and reds hovering above Hyunjin as he continues lulling in and out of consciousness and his body tries rejecting the prior spells Yeji casted to help him heal. Before you could fully empty out the vessel, however, Jisung’s hand with his emerald ring flies over yours to stop you. “Wait!” He exclaims, startling you, Ryujin, and Chan. “I’ll give up some of mine too. Don’t empty yours out.”
“Ji—” 
“—Y/N.” He snaps frustratingly, raising his voice and confusing you further. “Please, let me help! I don’t want you to empty your count, I’m not letting you.” 
This seems to effectively catch you off-guard. Jisung then takes this as an opportunity to stop you, not letting your hand go while he summons his own collected hearts out from his ring and firmly making sure that you don’t argue with him further until Chan has reluctantly made sure that you have enough ecures to convert into magic. Even then, he doesn’t let you go by your hand and instead moves his over to your free hand while Chan instructs you and Ryujin on how to purify a black heart. 
“J-Jisung.” You call for him once your initial annoyance of him stopping you has died down, eyes widening when he glances back at you with worry. “I need my two hands.” 
“Oh, shit. Sorry.” He lets go of your hand immediately, keeping his hands down on his lap before leaving the three of you to check on Seungmin, Yeji, and Chaeryoung. “Sorry…”
You cough out awkwardly as he leaves, glaring at Ryujin when she musters up a teasing smile despite your current predicament. 
“He’s right, you know.” Chan comments after a while, instructing you the following spells while the dark color of Hyunjin’s ecure fades to a glowing white. 
“Don’t start.” When you send a glare over your own cousin’s way, however, he quickly drops the subject with a shrug. 
Purifying a darkened heart, as it turns out, lasts until the very break of dawn as the three of you exhaust the ecures you and Jisung have put out to heal Hyunjin. As time ticks by agonizingly slow for Hyunjin who could only lay back on the sofa and absorb all of your energies to heal himself, Minho eventually gets everyone to clear the living room and sleep in the much more comfortable guest rooms after making sure that no one is greatly injured before hurling himself to the kitchen and make breakfast. 
But you see Jisung stay from the corner of your eye, taking up space on your opposite side to steal glances at you or comfort Hyunjin. From the way his eyebrows furrow over his sleepy eyes and how he refuses to leave even when you awkwardly tell him off, you could tell that he too can’t make out your previous exchange. 
“—Y/N. Please, let me help! I don’t want you to empty your count, I’m not letting you.” You know that he acted the way he did because it was Hyunjin that you were trying to save, one of his best friends. But the way he sounded so angry, the way he snapped at you in the spur of the moment, a small part of your thoughts wants to make you think that he had other reasons for doing what he did. 
“Hyunjin? How are you feeling?” Chan asks after 2 hours of nonstop spellcasting, halting you and Ryujin in your steps after. “Can you sit up?” 
Your eyes turn blue at the same time you see Jisung’s turn green, surveying Hyunjin’s heart for any hints of leftover dark magic. Meanwhile, Hyunjin struggles to sit up with Jisung’s help, tiredly groaning under his breath. “Much b-better.” He manages to stumble out after a moment, mustering up a small smile despite the dizzying and overwhelming fel. “Thanks, you guys.” 
You sigh in relief, resting your back against the coffee table behind you before nodding. “Finally…” 
“Come on, Hyunnie, I’ll move you upstairs.” Chan volunteers, standing up from his position on the floor and briefly stretching his arms out. Turning to you, Ryujin, and Jisung, he then adds, “You guys get some rest too. Just skip for today and tomorrow. I’ll write to everyone back home.” 
You don’t even argue against your cousin this time, finding yourself nodding when he gives you the same look he always does whenever you intend on shouldering some work for him. Standing up from the floor, you, Ryujin, and Jisung then head upstairs in silence. 
The entire walk, you feel Jisung stealing glances over to you but you decide to not act on it, shaking your head when he suddenly opens his mouth to speak before the two of you could go on your separate ways. 
“Y/N, wait—” “Goodnight, Jisung.” 
-
Growing up, Jisung has always relied on two people in helping him through the crisis of accidentally going too far with you: Chan and Felix. Chan, obviously, because he’s your cousin and the only other friend he has who harbors an inkling of a braincell and Felix because he’s everyone’s favourite and he knows the kinds of snacks that get on your good graces. These moments when he’s actually pushed your buttons too far are rare (as much as the two of you like to express your annoyance over each other, you’ve actually come to understand that this is just your dynamic growing up), but Jisung personally keeps a list of steps to do in situations like this anyway. Now more than ever, it seems, because suddenly, it feels weird and awkward being around each other—and not the usual kind. 
But as fate would have it, Chan is busy working out how to safely get Hyunjin home and explaining to the elders what happened. If normally Jisung would be asking Chan first about you and what he could say when he confronts you, this time he’s asking all of them to his twin brother who’s more than willing to listen (after listening to Yeji, Ryujin, and Chaeryoung gossip everything to him prior, of course).
“Why did you do that anyway?” Felix points out on the other side of the call, snuggling into a pillow as night falls on both realms. It’s been 3 days since Hyunjin returned and both the house and the officials back at home have been busy arranging his return with Yeji, Seungmin, Ryujin, and Chaeryoung; only allowing for the twins to talk in the late hours of the night. “And you said it angrily too from what Ryujin told me. No offense, bro, I’d feel a little weird if you raised your voice at me, too, then offered up half of your collection on their behalf.” 
Jisung groans in frustration, running his hand through his hair as he shuffles uncomfortably around his bed sheets. “I don’t know, it’s just...I was thinking of a lot of things.” 
“Like what?” 
“This candidacy exam, what Chan told me beforehand, Hyunjin, Y/N…” The older twin purses his lips, taking his eyes away from Felix to gaze down at his hands. The emerald ring is much cooler now after losing ecure but somehow, it feels heavy on Jisung’s ring finger. “I thought that it’d be unfair if they lose all of their ecure at this point in the race, trying to save Hyunjin, then the elders might not be too pleased about it when we return. But most importantly, I thought about what Chan told me when Minho first arrived, about how Y/N’s always jumping at every opportunity to help other people without thinking too much of themself. I was right there with my own vessel of hearts for them to use and if I just let them empty out theirs, then I’d be letting them get the short end of the stick in the long run again.” 
Felix nods along understandingly at his brother’s words, all the while trying to hide a smile behind his hand. So Yeji was right! “So why did you call me, then? You seem to have your reasons sorted out, just tell Y/N what you told me.” He shrugs after Jisung’s extensive speech, giggling at the dramatic reaction that he receives from his brother after. “I know you guys aren’t those emotional kinds of people to each other but you said so yourself that Y/N’s been quieter these days and that it’s been eating at your conscience. I say you just go for it and tell them how you feel.” 
“I’m not you, Lix. Y/N’s going to laugh at me.” Jisung pouts helplessly. “I can’t just tell them that.” 
“You’re so dramatic! It just implies that you care about Y/N like a decent human being. Anyone in your situation who knows what you know about them would’ve been considerate enough to do the same thing.” Felix argues back, rubbing his temples at how the older boy’s acting. “Don’t get it twisted, brother...unless you want it to, of course.” 
“Ya, and what’s that supposed to mean?!” 
“Figure it out yourself.” Felix sticks his tongue out teasingly before laughing and waving a dismissive hand. “Anyway, Yeji told me that Y/N’s been craving blueberry pancakes lately. You can just make them right now and give it tomorrow so you don’t have to go out.” 
“If anything, I want to leave the house right now and never come back.” Jisung grumbles back in frustration before sighing in defeat. “For the first time, I can’t believe you’re no help at all, Lix. I’m hanging up.” 
“Tch, you just can’t handle the truth, Sung. Anyway, I have to go too, mom and dad are asking me to come to this thing. I’ll update you on it later! Love you! Bye!” Felix then waves to the call one last time before hanging up, leaving Jisung in the uncomfortable silence of his room. 
Jisung sighs against the heavy blankets, throwing his phone to the other side of the mattress before ultimately deciding on standing up and heading to your room across the hall. Fuck it, he thinks to himself, it’s not like I like them or anything like that! Nothing to worry about! Let’s not get it twisted. 
When he opens the door, however, the first person he unexpectedly sees outside the hallways is you just as you close the door behind your own room. “Y/N!” He ends up blurting out loud in the moment, catching your attention with wide eyes. Not knowing what else to say, the first thought that comes to mind is, “Are you going to Hyunjin’s room?” 
You furrow your brows in confusion, shaking your head slowly. “No, I’m going to the kitchen?” 
“O-Oh.” He runs his hand through his hair once more in nervousness, nodding along and hiding the heat rising up his neck in embarrassment. “Well, I’m going there too. Mind if I join you?” 
You simply nod in response, walking down the end of the hallway with him in relative silence. He hasn’t seen you much since Hyunjin’s arrived either since you spent most of your time checking your mutual friend for his condition and brewing tea. The dramatic gears in Jisung’s head would like to think that it’s just pure convenience. 
“So, what did you and Felix talk about?” “How’s Hyunjin?” 
Jisung glances over to you on his right just as you mirror his actions, the gesture somehow making him flustered this time around as he’s quick to look away. “S-Sorry. Um, we just—talked about how things are back home.” He shrugs in his best feigned nonchalance, mentally cringing at how visibly awkward he looks as the two of you go down the stairs anyway. Not that it’s a lie, anyway, he and Felix did talk about other topics besides you. “Everything’s pretty busy back home since the elders are talking about how Hyunjin coming back is going to affect the exam now.” 
“Oh.” You nod along almost absentmindedly. “That’s...yeah, I’ve heard about it too. It’s pretty hectic on my mom’s end right now.” 
“So...how’s Hyunjin?” Jisung chimes in almost a little too quickly, feeling even more awkward that he accidentally brought up your candidacy exam again. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
You purposely pretend to not notice anyway, answering his questions carefully as you approach a curve into the spiral staircase. “He’s regaining his strength at least. Still on bedrest but he should be okay by the weekend when Changbin fetches him and the others.” The two of you then pass through the living room to get to the kitchen, finding Minho and Chan cuddled up on one of the sofas as they watch a movie on the television. 
The kitchen, on the other hand, is deserted when you turn on the lights which Jisung internally thanks every guest in the house for before taking a deep breath. “About what I said back then, by the way…” He starts carefully, catching your attention before you could even detach yourself from him to open the nearby fridge. You freeze a few steps ahead of him, making the poor boy gulp nervously. “Um, I’m sorry that I raised my voice at you. I shouldn’t have done that, even when I was stressing out.” 
Much like when he actually did raise his voice, you momentarily freeze in your spot before eventually shaking your head reassuringly and moving over to the fridge. “It’s alright, you don’t need to apologize for that.” You add with a small smile, taking out the fruit bowl from the fridge. “Is that why you’ve been quiet these past days? It’s okay, really.” 
“I haven’t been—it’s you who’s—” Jisung stops himself halfway before he could even start another argument, biting down his lip before shaking his head. Walking over to the stove area, he then opens a few cabinets in search of the pancake mix while you shuffle around the area behind him. “A little, yeah. It’s just that it looked like it bothered you so it bothered me too.”
When Jisung then glances over his shoulder, he sees you approaching with the fruit bowl hugged close to your chest. “I thought about it a few times. After that, I just thought that you were bothered so I couldn’t talk to you after.” You explain slowly, voice growing louder as you set the bowl next to him. In the dim lights of the kitchen, he suddenly can’t tell if you’re lying or not. “But it’s all good now. Are you making pancakes?” 
Jisung nods sheepishly, finally finding the pancake mix in the deeper crevices of the cabinet and taking it out with a pan and spatula from the adjacent cabinet. “No, but you have to know that—that—”
“Hm? What?” You raise your brows curiously, taking the pan and spatula for him before proceeding to the stove and twisting the knobs to preheat. 
“You’re not letting me finish.” Jisung points out with a feigned disapproving situation while quickly preparing the pancake mix, one which you somehow find amusing enough to laugh at. “Come on, don’t laugh, my twin made me say a bunch of things then coerced me into telling you so I’d—”
“Yeah, I know.” 
“—So, I appreciate it if you’d lis—wait, you know?!” His feigned expression then turns into one of surprise once more as you nod and break into giggles. “W-What?!” 
“You were being really loud, Hyunjin was even complaining to me from the next room by phone that he can’t sleep because of you.” You chuckle in amusement, nudging him by the arm when you notice that he’s slowed down his mixing. “He said something about you complaining to Felix about something or whatever. I don’t know, I was on a call with Lia.” 
“Then why did you—? So, you just came out here for pancakes?!” 
“No! I wanted to hear what you were going to say! I didn’t hear any word besides the pancakes, I swear...well, not clearly at least.” 
By now, all of the awkwardness has immediately dissipated as Jisung stops mixing the pancake mix altogether to turn to you and cross his arms. “You’re unbelievable.” He pretends to roll his eyes and scoff at you, earning him a glare.  You then swipe the pancake mix from his hands, pouring them into the pan in big circles. “And you still have the audacity to make me do this pancake mix.” 
“Well, you’re already mixing it so might as well.” You shrug with a knowing smile before nudging him again by the handle of the spatula. “Now, go on, what were you going to say?” 
Jisung shoots you one last incredulous look but you effectively counter it by encouraging him, promising that you “won’t laugh.” “Ah, well...I just wanted to say that you shouldn’t go all out wasting all of your collected hearts at this point, not when we’re almost done with the exam.” He blurts out, gazing down and fiddling with the fruit bowl while you take spoonfuls of blueberries from it to mix with the pancakes. “I want to win but it won’t be fun if your tally suddenly drops, right?” 
When he looks up, you’re raising your brow at his last comment as you make more pancakes. “I mean, I know you want to do what’s best for everyone but you have to look out for yourself too. Geez.” With a sigh, he then corrects which makes you nod in agreement. “A-And I guess lean on us too. We’re your family and friends, don’t shoulder all of the work for us all the time.” 
“I doubt I can lean on you.” You tease, flipping through your second batch of pancakes to cook. When Jisung sends a glare your way, you simply stick your tongue out at him. “Kidding.”  
“I get all emotional and all you say is that you doubt you can lean on me. Unbelievable…” Jisung scoffs, stuffing his mouth with more blueberries in feigned annoyance. 
The blueberry-filled pancakes are all eventually set on a plate you find on your opposite side, stacked up as a tall tower leaning on one side. Carefully passing Jisung the plate, you then twist the stove’s knobs off and reply, “You also made me cook the pancakes you wanted to make for me so I think that makes us even.” 
“Y/N!” He whines between mouthfuls of blueberries as you move around him to transfer the pan and spatula to the sink. 
You sigh in defeat, chuckling when you meet gazes once more and see him sulking with his cheeks full. “Right, right, I’m sorry!” You then beckon him over to the dining table, taking the fruit bowl on his side. “A-And...you know, thank you for that. We’re all good now, right?” 
“If you are.” 
“Definitely. Want to eat with me? I still owe you that meal from our first day.” 
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six out of six months
Your mother as well as the high jury of elders from back home eventually proposed that you and Jisung finish your Crown Candidacy exam while Hyunjin, should he eventually announce that he wants to participate as well in the incoming 6 months, do his under stricter supervision in the following year. This ensures fairness in your situations, that yours and Jisung’s efforts aren’t wasted in the past 5 months while also thinking of Hyunjin who wasn’t around in time for the traditional schedule of the exam. When Hyunjin was escorted home by Changbin and Felix, however, he briefly hinted towards a plan on refusing the candidacy and the exam. He left with the others before you or Jisung could even ask him about it. 
Regardless, you and your sole competitor easily fall back into the race as soon as Hyunjin, Yeji, Seungmin, and Chaeryoung have settled their business in the human world and went home, returning to university over a week later to regain the ecures that you lost. Not that it’s suddenly harder, anyway. Timely as it is, an announcement for a school festival at the end of the month has Jisung signing up to perform while you join the organizing committee to spend more time with your human friends. 
In the time that you’ve spent in the human world, you’ve made many genuine friends beyond collecting their ecure for your exam, especially in your classmates Yuna and Jeongin. Though they don’t know about your true nature, the two have unknowingly aided you a lot in your mission by accompanying you through the different activities around university. 
Yuna, in particular, was even the one who first mentioned the school festival to you, encouraging you to join the events committee with her and invite Jisung to perform. “It’s free backstage passes and we can see all of the artists up close!” She sighed dreamily on the day she showed you the gold and red poster that she picked up from the department bulletin board. “And come on, you’re really good at organizing stuff! We should do it together!”
And more hearts to collect, you thought to yourself when you accepted and attended the orientation.
And more hearts it was, indeed, as you spend the next 3 weeks meeting people from different colleges as you and Yuna are assigned to helping organize the music performance for the end of the festival. With your previous experience fulfilling your duties back at home, it’s unsurprisingly easier for you to juggle the work assigned to you—contacting students to perform, arranging the program flow, and turning the university football field into a makeshift mini concert stadium—with socializing and fulfilling your original mission of collecting hearts. 
Across from your room at home, on the other hand, Jisung has been busy spending the same time making his own music to perform at the music festival. You invited him to perform some time after starting your work with the festival committee—well, your friends insisted that you invite him and Chan after finding out that the famous DJ, CB97, is your cousin and that you and the “College of Psychology Cutie” commute home together (“Don’t tell me...are you guys secretly dating?!” Yuna had shamelessly asked during one of your meetings, to which you had to smack your hand over her mouth and improvise a cover story for you and Jisung that you live in the same neighbourhood). 
Jisung accepted at the thought that he could garner a huge crowd of hearts from this opportunity, cooping himself up in his room right after the following days that followed to complete his 15-minute set. Ever since, all you’ve heard coming from his room in the middle of the night would be guitar strums, drum loops, and the faintest hints of Jisung’s voice singing along to freestyle raps and lines. 
He mostly sang about love, of all things; something you, Minho, and Chan immediately noticed in the next 3 Friday nights that the three of you would be huddled in the living room to watch a movie, only to hear Jisung repeating lines as if he was talking to someone in Chan’s home studio. You wanted to ask about it out of pure curiosity, and just the general worry that he might not be looking after his heart while finishing your exam after all, but decided against it in favor of waiting for the final product at the music festival.
Fortunately, the month somehow went by in almost a flash as you and Jisung both got busy preparing and collecting more hearts on the side. Before you know it, it was the afternoon of the music festival and Felix is suddenly back in the human realm to accompany you and Minho to the school festival. 
“So, did he tell you what he prepared for tonight?” Felix asks you as the three of you walk around the festival grounds. Over the course of 3 weeks, you and a large team of student volunteers have managed to haul in food stalls, arcade booths, and rides from the quad all the way to the football field for this festival, amenities which you yourself haven’t tried yet because of your busy schedule but Felix and Minho have both been so overwhelmingly excited to check out even on the bus trip to your university. 
In response to the prince’s answer, you shake your head with a small pout. “I just hear him all over the house and I didn’t really want to pry if he didn't want to tell me anything.” You point out, the two of you suddenly changing the course of your mindless walk as Minho points to a crossbow shoot booth. “Why? Doesn’t he tell you what he’s been working on?” 
“No! He stops whatever he’s doing whenever we call, even when I ask him to play just a little bit of his work.” Felix is quick to mirror your pout, only for it to disappear when Minho jokes that the two of you help him cheat in the booth as he picks up a crossbow. “I thought since you guys are living together, you’d know better than me.” 
“Ah, you kids just wait until Jisung and Chan perform later.” Minho dismisses your concerns, holding the fake crossbow up properly while the staff manning the booth prepares the targets on the other side. “Now, help me win Chan a giant wolf.” 
You roll your eyes at Minho, shrugging at Felix. “I guess he’s right. Let’s just help Minho get a giant wolf first.” 
-
Chan and Jisung arrive at university 10 minutes before the music festival from Chan’s studio halfway across the city, initially unable to find you in the crowd of organizers as they set up backstage with Yuna and Jeongin’s help until you call Chan late that you’re “babysitting” Minho and Felix. 
“They’ve somehow teamed up and have been competing with the rigged booths since we arrived.” You explained over the voice call, the distant sounds of Minho and Felix yelling while tossing metal rings around almost muffling your own. “I’ll be on my way in a while as soon as Minho leaves the ring toss alone but Yuna and Jeongin are there. Just ask them if you guys need anyth—oh my gods, Felix, you won another plushie? That’s so cool! Wait, I’m on a call with Chan!—uh, yeah. I’ll be there in a second!” 
The commotion on your end makes the two boys laugh, even as you bid your goodbyes and end the call, but especially Jisung who’s been looking nervous since he arrived. Throwing his head back in a laugh as he tunes his guitar, he comments, “That’s a bit unexpected. I didn’t know my brother and your boyfriend would get along like that, and this quickly!” 
“Beating out rigged games sounds about right.” Chan chuckles along, seated on a plastic chair and running a quick check on his equipment. Turning to the younger boy, he then asks, “Are you still nervous?” 
“Me? Nah, I wasn’t even nervous to begin with!” At this, Jisung’s laughs naturally die down to an uncertain shake of his head. He dismisses with a scrunch up nose which Chan immediately raises a brow at. 
“Come on, Sung, I practically raised you with the other kids.” Chan proceeds to roll his eyes as Jisung’s brief confident facade crumbles down slowly. “What’s up?” 
The boy in question eventually sighs in defeat, shoulders slumping against the plastic chair he occupies. “Fine, maybe I’m a bit nervous! Just a little bit, though, I can still get on stage later! I mean, it’s not like performing here is gonna be different from back home like you said on the way here but…”
“But what?” Chan asks patiently, glancing up to see Jisung’s gaze fixed down on his yellow acoustic guitar. When the younger boy doesn’t respond immediately, he then continues, “I’ve heard bits and pieces of what you’ve been working on this month and all of the songs sound great. You’ll catch a lot of hearts tonight with them, I’m sure. What are you worried about?”
Jisung looks up from his guitar and opens his mouth to speak, only to get cut off when you come in the performer’s tent running and balancing different kinds of microphones in your hands. “Sorry I’m late!” You announce in between tired pants, catching both his and Chan’s attention as you pass the microphones around the artists with Jeongin who instinctively comes to your aid. “I was with my friends and they wouldn’t budge from the ring toss!” 
“I think I’m going to faint.” Jisung mumbles under his breath with furrowed brows, loud enough for only Chan to hear, until you approach them last with their microphones. 
“Mics?” You offer obliviously, holding up the last 2 hand mics in your possession. Passing one to Chan quickly, you then sit down next to Jisung and pass him his hand mic. “Hey, you’re up fourth, right?” 
Jisung glances over to Chan with a panicked look but the older boy simply shakes his head with a chuckle and focuses on his keyboard. Turning to you, Jisung then nods quickly with a hum before gazing down at his guitar and the laptop he’s set up on the table in front of you two. 
Immediately sensing his odd behavior, you then hover your hands in the space between the two of you in a quick spell, eventually verifying his nervous feelings. “Yeah, totally not nervous.” You chuckle in amusement, laughing even more when he turns to you and whines in complaint. 
“Ya! Don’t do that!” 
“Well, it’s not like you’re that good at hiding your nervousness!” You point out in defense, holding your hands up in front of you in between uncontrollable fits of giggles. When the glare he sends your way doesn’t relax one bit, you then fish out a small quokka plush from your backpack. “Anyway, Felix was kinda expecting that you’d be a little nervous so wanted me to give you this plushie he won at the milk bottle game with Minho for good luck. He would’ve given it himself but LUCY was already performing when we came here so he dragged Minho to the audience area before I could even bring him here.” 
You then place the plush toy on the table right next to his laptop, looking around once to make sure that no one is looking your way before mouthing a quick spell to shrink the quokka into something smaller that he can hang on his guitar strap. As you do so, Chan notices how Jisung’s ears are quick to turn red as he follows your every movement. “You can stick it to your guitar strap and bring it with you to the stage.” You point out once you’re done, only then noticing his stares. “What?” 
“Huh?” Jisung shakes his head absentmindedly, mentally slapping himself back to reality before scrambling to pick up the plush toy by the chain you added on top of its head and tying it to the small hole along the edge of his guitar strap. “O-Oh, yeah, thanks!”
You chuckle, just as Yuna suddenly calls for you to help in getting the next act’s microphone stands on stage. Standing up, you then pat Jisung’s shoulder reassuringly, saying one last, “Don’t be nervous!” before running off again to where most of your committee members are. 
Once you’re out of earshot, only then does Chan look up from his equipment once more but this time with a knowing grin and squinted eyes. “Yeah, Sung, don’t be nervous!” 
Jisung rolls his eyes in front of the older boy at this, securing the quokka plushie on his guitar strap one last time. “Shut up.” 
-
Your committee heads lay you off of work just as Jisung heads to the stage for his set, the small quokka plush you gave him dangling behind his fretboard with a toothy grin while he sets up his laptop and greets the energetic crowd. When you discreetly scan the people’s ecures while standing behind the curtains, you quickly spot a growing number of pinks and oranges. “Such a charmer.” Chan notes, eyes also blue when you look up at him. 
You nod in agreement, reverting back to your original color as more of your peers gather around the curtains to listen to Jisung’s introduction. “Um, hi, I’m Han Jisung from the Psych department.” You hear him greet with a shy chuckle over the microphone, earning him another wave of cheers. Behind you, even Yuna and Jeongin cheer despite Jisung having his back partially facing you. “This is my first time performing here at uni and the songs that I’ve prepared so please go easy on me.” 
You then turn to Chan again, taking a sideways step closer to him as a thought crosses your mind. “Hey, Chan,” You call for him in a lower voice, craning your head up when he leans towards you. “Have you heard of the songs he’s going to perform tonight? You were together before coming here, right?” 
“Only a little bit. We mostly talked while we were at the studio.” Chan shrugs in response. “I think he wanted it to be a surprise to everyone.” 
On stage, Jisung then checks his guitar one last time before announcing the name of the first song. “So, this first song is something that I’ve been thinking about since I moved here. It’s called ‘Close.’” He says, pressing play on his loops and singing the first lines of the song. “Can you tell me about you? You, seen from afar. I just don't want to watch. Yeah Just tell me about you.”
Jisung is a great performer, there’s no doubt about it. Though you’ve grown up hearing him sing and rap at your more casual events back at home, he always manages to surprise you every time he performs just with the way he enjoys himself on stage. You can see him smile widely from the side of the stage, his nervousness long gone as he interacts with the crowd and collects the pink crystal hearts that float above your heads. 
“He’s really good…” You murmur, more to yourself than to Chan, as you find yourself gently swaying to the song. “What was he even worried about? It’s a great song…” 
Chan glances knowingly at you, a small smile playing on his lips as you sing along to the next round of the chorus. “I don’t think he has nothing to worry about too, not right now at least.” 
“Hm?” “Nothing.” 
-
In truth, even with the positive response from the crowd and the amount of ecures he’s collected from this set alone, Jisung is still nervous for his last song. “Sunshine” was supposed to be just another warm-up song with barely a cohesive topic, a compilation of sketches about his experiences in the human world that he spent his free time on when he wasn’t collecting hearts these past 6 months. As more time passed by, however, and the time of your exam was suddenly coming to a close, they eventually took a different direction without him even realizing it until you were inviting him to perform at this music festival. 
The times that the two of you would bicker just to laugh at each other in the end, the competition that brought the bests and worsts in you, and your chocolate matcha tea and musings on the one time you sat down with him on his balcony. Eventually, you were all he was writing about. On top of the nervousness that comes with finishing the competition you’ve found yourselves in for half a year and finding out who will be declared the winner, Jisung was more nervous about the thought that you’re just behind the stage curtains with Chan, anticipating his next song. 
“For my last song, I picked this one for someone I know whom I’ve spent a lot of time with these past few months.” He confesses shyly in front of the crowds. Among the hundreds of people that came tonight, he easily spots his twin brother in front of the barriers with Minho, sporting the most exaggerated surprised face ever. “I was hoping that when all of this is said and over, we’d get well-deserved breaks...maybe music and tea at night again or something.” 
Jisung doesn’t have to turn around to gauge your initial reaction as he begins the song, Felix’s expression turning into that of giddiness as he looks over at the stage curtains is enough to set every gear in his head to pump out more nervousness. Instead, he pushes through until halfway to the song before he could steal his first glance over to you since beginning his set. 
With his eyes still an emerald green from scanning the crowd’s ecures, your eyes meet under the harsh stage lights as he sings the bridge. “This place is quiet without a sound ye ye ye. Quiet except for the sound of our breaths ye ye ye.” He doesn’t intend to look again, not in that split second before he’s turning his gaze back to the crowd of cellphone lights and LED signs, but he sees your heart’s reflection once more. 
Reminiscent of when you first confessed in middle school, a pinkish heart floats by the sleeves of your sweater, almost looking red if he just looked longer. You didn’t even turn away this time and simply just stood there, heat visibly rising up your neck. 
Reminiscent of when you first confessed in middle school, a pinkish heart floats by the sleeves of your sweater, almost looking red if he just looked longer. This time around, however, you don’t turn away to try and hide it. 
And this time around, Jisung doesn’t childishly call you out for it or ignores it. This time, it makes his own heart swell at the thought. 
-
The car ride home, with Chan on the wheel and three extra boxes of equipment most of the backseats in his SUV, is a comfortable and awkward mix of quiet between you and Jisung as the two of you are forced to sit next to each other in the cramped space. You sit by the window, using it as an excuse to peer outside and avoid any kind of small talk from the boys, while Jisung has hisi eyes glued to his phone while a sleeping Felix snuggles into his shoulder. The only human noise in the car, as it seems, is coming from Minho and Chan as the two recall the songs the latter and Jisung performed at the program. 
It’s even quieter at the thought that you, Jisung, and Felix will fly back to the magical realm tomorrow, something that Minho reminds you when he suddenly asks, “Right, what do you kids want me to cook for lunch later, by the way?” 
The question comes right as the car suddenly comes to an abrupt stop at Chan’s garage, masking the way you and Jisung simultaneously jump in surprise. You instinctively glance over to him after with wide eyes, before gazing over at Minho who has a poorly-hidden snicker on his expression from the front passenger seat. “Um,” You stutter out awkwardly, glaring at Minho when he smirks teasingly over your way. “Anything’s fine for me.” 
Jisung nods over to your direction in agreement. “Yeah, anything’s fine.” 
Minho nods with pursed lips, as if he was biting down a laugh. “Does crispy pork belly sound good?” He asks, earning him nods from you. “Okay. You guys have been quiet back here this entire time, you guys good?” 
“Yeah?” “Totally.” 
Clearly unconvinced, Minho shakes his head and scoffs before twisting his upper body to face front once more, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the car door next to him. “Oh, kids…” 
You roll your eyes at the comment before stealing a glance over at Jisung again, only to find the boy already staring at you. “W-What?” You manage to ask this time despite your initial surprise. In front of you, Chan has already turned the engine off and left the driver’s seat to open the back of the car. “You okay, Ji?” 
He hums almost absentmindedly, phone now set down on his lap as he fiddles with his hands nervously. “Yeah, um—” He stutters out, biting his lips down once. Briefly glancing at his side, he then gestures towards his twin and adds, “Wait, sorry, um, let me wake Lix first.” 
“Okay.” You nod awkwardly, deciding to unbuckle your own seatbelt and open the car door next to you. Jisung then gently shakes Felix awake, leading his brother out through the same car door since the opposite one’s blocked by more of his and Chan’s equipment. 
“You go on ahead, Lix, I’ll just talk to Y/N.” You hear Jisung say as the three of you now stand outside in the cold, levitating boxes of instruments and computers flying over your head and heading inside the house. 
Felix nods at this immediately, sleepily bidding you and Jisung with loose hugs before trudging back inside the house with Chan and Minho. 
Once the doors leading back to the house fully close on the two of you, only then are you engulfed in the same awkward silence again and the two of you, for the third time in the past 6 months, speak up at the same time. 
“So um—” “—Yeah, a while ago—” 
This time, the two of you chuckle awkwardly over speaking at the same time again. You then gesture for him to go ahead and speak first as you adjust your sweater’s placement on your shoulder. 
Instinctively, Jisung fixes your sweater for you before speaking, causing him to stutter a little. “S-Sorry, um…” He licks his lip awkwardly, retracting his hand as fast as he can and moving a step back. “Yeah, I meant to say that I didn’t...I didn’t mean to look at your heart.” 
Suddenly, at such an important moment, you’re speechless and frozen in front of Jisung. Your hands find their way down the hem of your sweater, absentmindedly playing with the loose threads as you shift your weight on the balls of your feet and stutter out your response. “I-I um…” 
Simultaneously, Jisung takes in a huge intake of breath and continues, “I looked at you because I actually made the song for you—well, about you but not in a weird way! It can be for you too, that is if you want it!—”
“Jisung?” 
“Ah, anyway, I’m losing track! Just, I looked at you because I wanted to know what you thought of it the most in the moment, you know—”
“Jisung…”
“And I didn’t realize that my eyes were still green and I saw so I looked away as fast as I could, I swear—!” 
“Ji.” 
“I know you don’t want me looking into your heart and stuff because of before. I promise I won’t do it again—” 
Realizing that he’s not going to stop in his ramblings, you then impulsively take a step towards him and grab him by his arms. “Ji, it’s fine.” You shake him gently, effectively stopping the endless flow of thought. “I mean, you already saw it and everything.” 
“But I—” 
“Just don’t lash out or stop talking to me again while I sort it out.” You shrug reassuringly with a sigh, reluctantly sliding your hands off of him and taking a step back again as you see him listen intently to your words. “It’s just pink, anyway, it can still go away like before. Just don’t avoid me again this time.” 
Though he’s clearly been listening intently, you see his brows furrow and his expression suddenly becomes confused towards the end of your words. “What?” He echoes helplessly after you. “No, I...why would I stop talking to you? That was a long time ago. I won’t do that now, I...” 
“Then just don’t take my heart or something.” You point out, almost like a question as his reaction confuses you similarly. “Anyway, that’s not the point, like I said, I’ll sort it ou—”
“Don’t.” He cuts you off immediately this time with more conviction, shaking his head and suddenly taking your hand. “Don’t sort it out. Don’t make it go away or anything.”  
“What? Why?” 
You’re pulled closer again, Jisung mumbling an incantation to show his ecure under his breath. “Look at mine.” He points out, a pink crystal heart floating over to your upturned palm as he holds onto you by your wrist. “If anything, I should be the one telling you to not take mine on the spot or something.” 
“It’s pink.” You muse out loud in surprise, the warmth of his ecure feeling overwhelming as it floats above your hand. “And it’s for me…?” 
Jisung rolls his eyes at this in disbelief, nodding patiently anyway. “Who else would it be for?” He scoffs gently, making the heart disappear before it could burn your palm. “I don’t know since when it’s been like that, maybe it’s been like that for a long time even I don’t know I’ve only looked at it while Chan and I were at the studio. All I’m sure is that suddenly I was writing a song for you and sacrificing half of my ecure count so you don’t lose easily in the exam and looking out for you and—just, this time it’s me who’s afraid that you’ll run away or disappear for a while if you knew.”
“So don’t...sort it out.” He concludes after unknowingly speaking at such a fast rate, heaving belatedly from this. “I like you now, I like you a lot, and I’m not going to lash out like when we were kids. Take my heart if you want just don’t change your feelings for me, please.” 
There’s a brief pause that follows, the only noise ringing in your ears being the unusually loud beating of your own heart as the two of you freeze in place. Jisung tries waiting as patiently as he visibly can in this silence, puffing air in and out of his lips as he fails at trying to conceal his recurring nervous feelings, while you gaze at anywhere but him because of the heat rising up your neck. 
“Listen…” He speaks up after a while. “I’m sorry, I—”
Fuck it, you think to yourself before stepping forward, shakily cupping his cheeks, and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Don’t say sorry.” You muster up a shy smile in between brief kisses. “You already know that I like you too.” 
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bonus epilogue
When you return to the magical realm to the news that Hyunjin won’t be taking his own candidacy exam next year in favor of his own kingdom’s crown, the elders are quick to take your locket and Jisung’s ring to proceed with the final results. Since the decision takes at least 3 days, coupled with the fact that a major complication arose in the 6 months that you were given, Jisung was asked to stay at your castle until the jury could come to a conclusion and crown either one of you. 
The others would also occasionally come and visit (especially Lia who’s mostly kept up with your trip through Yeji and Ryujin) but since confessing to Jisung, the boy has been doing the most trying to sneak you away from everyone and your regular royal duties just to spend more time with you. 
“So this is what you meant with Sunshine?” You ask in the afternoon before the elders would summon you back to the throne room, the two of you hidden away in your favourite greenhouse garden. Today, Jisung has somehow convinced you to ditch a visit to Chan’s family in favor of just sitting on your greenhouse’s cushioned sofas and listening to him hum his songs until your mentors would eventually come looking for you. “Chocolate matcha and your guitar?” 
“Yeah, just a relaxing rest date with your crush.” Jisung points out next to you, his head snuggled into the crook of your neck as much as the guitar in between the two of you could allow him. On your opposite side, his cuddle rival, the quokka plush toy you’ve somehow managed to turn into a life-size pillow today, sits on your lap and occasionally pokes on the end of his guitar. “Why? Do you want to refill your tea? I’ve been getting Felix to teach me this spell to refill tea, you know. I’m getting it but chocolate matcha’s kinda hard to replicate.” 
You shake your head in disbelief with a chuckle, a stark contrast to how you’re internally flustered over the small comment on your favourite tea flavor. “Who said you’re my crush? Bold of you to even assume, Ji…” You pretend to roll your eyes, sinking deeper into the soft cushions behind you. 
“Baby, you’ll be taking those words back when I get crowned tonight.” He pouts, elbowing you gently before shifting to place his guitar on the side. With his hands now free, the prince then resorts to linking his arms with your free one and intertwining your hands together on top of the plush quokka. “If I win, I’ll make sure to banish this quokka first so you’ll be forced to cuddle with only me.” 
“Tch, Felix won you this quokka. You’ll have to duel with him first if you want this gone.” You argue, sliding the quokka closer to him so its face is adjacent to Jisung. “Plus, it kinda looks like you. If I get crowned and you’ll be away doing your own duties back East, I have something of yours.” 
“I think you meant that if I win and you’ll be staying here doing your own duties, you’ll have something of mine.” Jisung huffs pettily. “Maybe we should keep the quokka, after all. You might get lonely if I get busy.” 
You shake your head immediately with a chuckle, leaning more of your weight on his side. “Oh, no, no, no.” You correct teasingly, making him giggle along against your shoulder. “Who said you’re going to win later?” 
“Wanna bet?” He raises a brow and smirks, lifting his head briefly to glance over to you.
You roll your eyes at this, leaning forward to meet his lips. “You’re so competitive, babe. Give it a rest, you know I’ll win anyway.” 
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bonky-n-steeb · 3 years
Text
𝑅𝐸𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅
PART ONE
𝙇𝙊𝙆𝙄 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 | 𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍
𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: Bored after staying on Asgard your entire life, you decide to sneak on earth. But what happens when Steve falls irrevocably in love with you, the Queen of Asgard, wife of Loki.
𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: yandere, obsession, death, violence, cursing, manipulation. If you find any of this triggering, please DNI. Also inform me if I left something out.  
ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, ᴀʟʟ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍɪɴᴇ
As you know my previous account got deleted and therefore I have to post this again... Hope you guys like it!
SERIES MASTERLIST || MASTERLIST
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You sat reading a book in the ethereal gardens of the Palace, with your back pressed against a tree. Loki had brought that book from Midgard. You loved reading, and Loki always got you books from all over the nine realms. That’s how you had bonded in the very beginning.
As you read the book, you had a feeling you already knew what was going to happen, as if you had already read it. So, you closed it and stared at the grand garden before you. Filled with plethora of flowers, the sweet smell diffusing in the air, the palette of colors pleasing the eye.
“Do you need something?” Your maid asked. You shook your head, “I don’t, and even if I needed something I would take it myself.” You gave her a smile at that.
You were the daughter of a common farmer; you were independent since your birth. You had a habit of doing everything by yourself and even despite it being years since marrying Loki, you still couldn’t quite get adjusted to maids. They weren’t servants for you, they were your friends. Your humility and intelligent was something Loki had fallen head over heels for.
The entire Asgard was happy and wonderfully surprised when Loki had announced that he would be marrying you. A common girl with barely any powers was marrying the God of Mischief and the king of Asgard; that had generated quite the rumors, some even thought it was one of his pranks. Even you were worried, but Loki had chased all your worries away.
Despite Thor being the elder brother, Loki had been crowned as the king. Though Thor was powerful and had immense strength, he neither wished to be the king, nor did he have the time to be one. He was rather busy with Midgard and thus Loki had taken the mantle.
When it came to you, even despite being the God of Lies, Loki never lied. He was the best husband you could ask for. Taking your opinions in consideration, asking for your help, cherishing you, loving you more than anybody else. He didn’t rule Asgard alone, no, he ruled Asgard alongside you.
You had changed him; from the selfish Loki whose heart was filled with vengeance, you had made him into a noble and beloved king. But still he never stopped pulling pranks on you, and you took it just as lightly. He was still very mischievous at his heart and you had accepted him with all he brought along.
There was just one thing he didn’t allow: you visiting Earth. And that was only because he was worried for you. The people of Midgard had not taken his attack lightly, and they were still very much furious. Though they were now on good terms, he didn’t want anything to happen to you. You were his everything.
And visiting Earth at least once was one of the only things you wanted. Literally everyone had been to Midgard except you. Even Loki and definitely Thor frequented Midgard, but not you. Once a month you both used to come to that topic and he would brush you off, promising you to take somewhere else. And that maybe fueled your need to go to Midgard even more.
“What are you thinking about, my love?” When you heard his sweet yet authoritative voice, you smiled softly. Lost in thoughts you hadn’t even noticed he was sitting beside you. You inhaled deeply, “I was thinking about the forbidden fruit. I was thinking what would go wrong if I went to Midgard. Just once Loki, just once. That’s the only thing I ask of. I’ve heard the Earth is circular, unlike Asgard!” You asked giving him your best puppy dog eyes.
“Now my beloved, how many times, huh? How many times do I have to list the reasons why you shouldn’t visit Midgard. I won't be able to live if something happens to you. I will go insane, there won’t be a point in living.” He gently took your chin between his fingers and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.  
“I know Loki, I love you too. But aren’t your relations with Earth better now? And Thor goes there all the time and so do you! And I have powers Loki!” You had the powers of making anyone reveal the truth. You were a rarity; a commoner with powers. Your ability to extract truth was really an ace at your side while ruling Asgard.
“We don’t know if someone is holding any grudge. I can’t risk it. Ask me anything, I will search the entire universe for it and bring it upon your feet. Just not Earth. Now I don’t want to ruin such a perfect day by arguing with you.” Before you could speak further, he shut you with a kiss.
As you both laid in each other embrace, you got lost in the abyss of his eyes. “Oh Loki, do you know how much I love you?” With eyes full of mischief, “Well you do know a certain way to show your love, my beloved wife.” He quipped.
~~~
Today Thor was leaving for Midgard. And at the same time, you had made your plans to sneak. You had started wondering if Loki had a mistress there, well what else could be his reason for not permitting you to visit Earth.
One part of the plan was already in action. You had shared your concerns with Heimdall. He had been awfully quiet but when you had pleaded and asked of it as a favor for his Queen, he had agreed. On the condition that you would return within 3 days, or else he would pull you back to Asgard. You had happily agreed.
The plan was simple, while he would transport Thor, you would go too, you just had to stand close enough to Thor. All excited, you got ready in the best of your clothes. You knew they didn’t dress like this on Midgard, but you had an impression to make as the Queen of Asgard.
The dark green silk robe complimented your emerald wedding ring; you wore button earrings and connected them to your hair clip with chains. You let your hair down but not without braiding few locks of hair; your right index and ring fingers were adorned with your best rings. You wanted to wear your crown, but decided it would be too much for Midgardians; after all you were going there for vacation, you had no plans of ruling earth.
Not many were there to say goodbye to Thor, the Prince travelled very frequently. You were glad that today neither Loki nor the warriors were there. “Goodbye Thor, have a safe journey!” You said as you stood a little too close to him. It was your signal for Heimdall to transport you to Midgard. “Thank you, sister...” before Thor could complete his sentence, you were both sucked into the wormhole.
~~~
It was a.... cool experience to say at least. To be honest, you had no idea. You had kept your eyes closed through half of the journey, and you had probably screamed your throat dry. You did travel through the Bifrost at times but Loki always held you tight. Today though you were spinning all by yourself in the rainbow tunnel. Thank the Norns, it was over faster that you expected.
As Thor landed gracefully in the Avengers compound, you landed straight on your ass and skidded halfway across, bruising you elbow and knuckles.
Thor’s voice boomed aloud, as you tried to get up rubbing your aching ass, “Oh dear Sister! Are you alright?” He said as he helped you get up, “Well, Heimdall didn’t tell me how to land.” You tried to lighten the mood.
“There must have been some mistake. Don’t worry I’ll call Heimdall to send you back.” He said softly while rubbing your elbow as he began praying to Heimdall.
“Uhh, well Thor, that’s not needed. And this... this wasn’t an accident at all. I kind of made a deal with Heimdall and he sent me here...” Thor’s eyes widened with shock and what you thought was anger. You had never ever seen Thor get angry at you, ever. And you were truly scared now.
Thor and you were best of friends. It was as if you two were siblings, not Thor and Loki. As you looked at him now, you knew you had truly screwed up. You knew your decision would anger Loki, but his anger you could handle. You weren’t quite sure about it with respect to Thor.
“You did what? You aren’t supposed to be here! You are going back to Asgard before anyone sees you.” He held you by your elbow and it hurt like hell. “But Thor,...” you tried pleading. Maybe you had not guessed the extent of your family’s anger correctly and you knew you were going to pay for it badly.
“I wasn’t asking you.” He said in an impersonal tone. “You need to understand this is for your own good.” You were tired of listening to the same thing over and over again for so many years. And you finally snapped.
“Tell me the truth Thor! I know that’s not the only reason, why don’t you people want me to come here? Does... does Loki have a mistress here? Huh? I’m so sick of listening to you people give me all kinds of stupid reasons to keep me away from here! You know, if maybe you had not reinforced the fact that I’m not allowed to visit Midgard again and again, then maybe I wouldn’t be so obsessed with coming here.” You couldn’t hold your tears back.
“It’s not what you are thinking, trust me sister, Loki only loves you. But we need to go now and don’t use your powers on me.” You snatched your hand away from him. He was correct in guessing your intentions, you were going to use your powers on him to make him say the truth. But his anger held you back. After all, he was your family, and this visit to earth was just three days long.
“There’s one catch; you can’t take me back. I told you, I’ve made a deal with Heimdall. It includes that He won’t open the Bifrost for me to leave Earth until the evening of the third day!”
~~~
The Avengers were all gathered in the briefing room. Thor was coming back and they needed to discuss an important upcoming mission. As Steve stood telling everyone about the mission, they could hear the tell-tale noise of the rainbow tunnel as they called it.
Tony yawned loudly and stood up from his chair, he was least bit interested in the meeting and just wanted to get out. “Thor is here. We should go meet him.” He said stretching. Steve rolled his eyes, while Nat and Clint got up.
“We can continue, Thor knows where to come.” Steve interjected. “I guess Tony is right on this one.” Wanda said shrugging. Before they could continue, they heard the noise of Thor and a lady arguing. Her voice was vaguely familiar.
“Let’s go!” Tony said excitedly as he hoped to get a little more spice on this dull day. Reluctantly even Steve joined the entire group as they walked outside. Thor was facing them and from his gestures even they knew he was truly angry. The lady had her back to them, her golden magic swirling around her hand, showing her anger and annoyance at Thor. She was dressed in the finest fabric.  
Thor stood still and suddenly stopped fighting as he saw literally all of the Avengers looking at the two of them with keen interest. You saw his stunned and somewhat worried expression, so before he could stop you whipped your head around.
The moment you turned, Steve’s heart stopped in his chest. He couldn’t believe his eyes. This was not true; this couldn’t be true. You were just like in his dreams, if not more beautiful. Your eyes pulled him in like sirens calls. Your voice a sweet balm on his heartache. You looked like a goddess, and he was sure you were one. But, how could you possibly be here? So very real, standing in front of him in all your grace, just as if to taunt him.
You tilted your head in confusion, all of them, literally all of them were staring at you as if they had seen a dead person walk out of the grave. “Uh, well, you must be the Avengers I’ve heard so much about! It was rude of us to fight out here, and I apologize for the commotion. Let me introduce myself, I’m Y/N, The Queen of Asgard and the wife of the beloved King Loki.”
As you said the words, all of the Avengers’ eyes widened with confusion, as fear and anger gripped their hearts.
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birdsareblooming · 4 years
Text
Sonic may actually be lost royalty
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I keep going down these rabbit holes I shouldn’t go down BUT! Although this theory is one that I don’t fully believe in (unlike the infinite/solaris theory and the chaos emerald theory) I still have a good argument that I want to talk about very bad.
I also tried to make this as short as possible but there’s a lot of ground to cover, but at least it’s not the infinite/solaris theory. But I have a TLDR at the end.
[Spoiler Warning for Sonic and the Black Knight]
let’s start with a ✨numbered list✨
1. Blaze the Cat
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Blaze is the biggest caveat for this theory, but I think it’s best to start with her.
Now, firstly I need to clear up some things.
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[Eggman: My world...]
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[Eggman Nega: and my world...]
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[Eggmen: are in a manner, inextricably linked!]
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[Blaze: Like two Eggmans?]
Part of the Blaze’s world is that it’s a parallel universe. Parallel Eggmen, Parallel emeralds, Everything else that isn’t stated outright. Like how Tails and Marine are definitely counterparts. Seeming as Tails came from South Island and Marine came from southern island, Tails is definitely based on a kitsune and Marine, in theory, based on a tanuki. 
And, although not stated completely, Blaze and Sonic are universal counterparts.
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[From Sonic Wiki: Blaze was designed as a charater who was equivalent yet and alternate version of Sonic’s character.]
Much like the Sol and Chaos emeralds, Sonic and Blaze are a mirror version of one another, although slightly different.
Alright, now that we have that out of the way:
Looking at the connections between the others, Sonic and Blaze seem, a bit too different.
The Sol and Chaos emeralds fulfill the same role, although their different appearance, and have a similar story.  Tails and Marine fulfill the same role, although their different appearance, and have a similar story. The Eggmen fulfill the same role, although their different appearance, and have a similar story. 
Blaze and Sonic fulfill the same role, although their different appearance, and have a... completely different story. 
Blaze was born to a royal family, and set to protect the Sol Emeralds and the Jeweled Scepter as her birthright, and it’s somewhat hinted that her powers may also be a birthright. Sonic, on the other hand, has no known past, and seems to have just run into the Chaos Emeralds by accident. 
You could claim that Blaze does take on the role of both Sonic AND Knuckles, which is fair and stated on the wiki, however Knuckles is also never stated to be any kind of royalty, and certainly doesn’t have that kind of past, his past being one of the more tragically alone ones. 
And here’s something interesting.
Time has warped our vision of Blaze. We all know her as “Princess Blaze the Cat.” But from watching Sonic Rush, her opening game... she is never mentioned to be a princess until the very end.
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[Burning Blaze: As princess, it is my duty to protect the Sol Emeralds...]
From what I remember, this is the FIRST mention of her royal status. 
From this game’s viewpoint, they reveal the mirror status of the dimensions. They then show both Blaze and Sonic having mirror super transformations using their emeralds, highly implying that Sonic and Blaze were mirror versions. (also this was implied already by just Blaze’s shoes.) and then it’s revealed that Blaze is royal, and a princess. 
So if she’s the mirror of Sonic, what does that mean for Sonic? Especially right after showing the two of them being, well, mirrors.
2. King Arthur
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SATBK is much less transparent about the counterpart universe thing.
Now this is an alternate universe, set up by Secret Rings, and surprisingly not just a story Sonic told as an elaborate excuse.
They don’t hide obivous Sonic characters being put into roles, and their in these roles for a reason.
Blaze and Silver as Percival and Galahad, the knights who quested together for the holy grail. Knuckles as Gawain literally only because of “Gawain and the Green Knight” But I respect that so much. Jet as Lamorak because of Lamorak’s fiery temper and competitiveness.  Shadow as Lancelot because he’s the “closest knight to the king” stated in game (👀) Tails as a Blacksmith because that’s p much the medieval version of a mechanic. Amy as the Lady of the Lake because like. Fuck she’s the most powerful one there. (but seriously, in forces she’s shown to be the most level headed leader and strangest, especially in Sonic’s absence. As well as “sensing” that he was still alive and having a past in tarot.) And Merlina as Merlina because... well that’s a whole other theory.
(all my theories are being brought up in the post. like i know the first two were expamples of theories I fully belive in but damn this is like a avengeners, ok,)
But Sonic as King Arthur makes sense when it’s revealed. Although he wasn’t anyone’s counterpart in Secret Rings (because secrets rings was confused as hell) He is in this game, and as the ring leader of everyone following him in SATBK, it makes sense. 
Although something that was never brought up...EVER is the Knight’s backstories, which are EXTREMELY important not only in Arthurian legends, but for the knights in Sonic lore. All of the knight’s mentioned backstories are important to their character, in both contexts. Although their never brought up.
*DEEP BREATH* Alright. The similarities between Sonic Character/Knight backstories.
Shadow and Lancelot have pretty simmilar backstories when getting down to it. Shadow/Lancelot were both raised for greatness, but still outshined by Sonic/Arthur. Although remaining loyal to them, even if for Shadow it’s only in times of need. Shadow doesn’t want to admit he’s a supporting role to Sonic, although Sonic generations kinda throws that Idea out of the water when Shadow cheers Sonic on while watching from the sidelines, much like early Lancelot.
For Blaze and Percival, in multiple interpretations Percival is of noble birth. Upon meeting Sonic’s Gang/The Knights, Blaze/Percival get’s inspired by their heroics and eventually joins them.
“Lancelot and Percival prove morally superior to Gawain who follows the rules of courtliness to the letter rather than the spirit.“ Is an actual quote from Wikipedia. Although it is VERY hard to find a concrete backstory for Gawain other than “separated from his home”, I think this proves enough. As well as the Gawain and the Green Knight story (in which Gawain tries to slay the green knight and then he picks up his head and says “see you in a year” is pretty representative of Knuckles constantly breaking the master emerald in a comedic light.) 
Lamorak/Jet are known for challenging Arthur/Sonic to competitions. 
Galahad/Silver are searching for an object/person aided by Percival/Blaze
So now that we’re all good, do you see the similarities between part one.
Although everyone else has given backstory similarities, Sonic is given none, seeming as, as far as we know, Sonic HAS no backstory.
But isn’t it interesting that King Arthur’s backstory is being lost royalty? And the secret son of the king? Wack.
3. Sonic Fucking Underground
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Now, most of you are probably unfamiliar with Sonic Underground. Good.
If you’re not, you watched it as a kid and you’re nostalgic, and let me tell you I watched the entire show recently and it’s not as good as you remember.
But Sonic Underground’s quality and history could be a post on it’s own, it doesn’t matter here. What matters is the plot:
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[From Sonic Wiki: Sonic, Sonia, and Manic are the children of Queen Aleena, the rightful ruler of Mobius and are pursued relentlessly by Doctor Robotnik and his bumbling bounty hunters sidekicks, Sleet and Dingo. As infants, the siblings were separated and placed in hiding to fulfill a prophecy made by the Oracle of Delphius (a spoof of the Oracle of Delphi of Ancient Greece) that the triplets would grow up to find their estranged mother, overthrow Robotnik and take their places once more as Mobius' rightful rulers.]
FORGOTTEN ROYALTY YOU SAY.
Now, Sonic Underground is VERY SEPARATED from Sonic Lore, and nothing has ever taken from it besides Manic appearing in some comics, although from what I know he’s never mentioned to be Sonic’s brother. So This is the part I always take with a grain of salt, however;
4. In conclusion/TLDR
We have Two Instances of Sonic being lost Royalty (One in a separate reality and one in a separate continuity) We have Two Instances of Dimentional Counterparts of Sonic being Royalty (Blaze and King Arthur) We have zero given backstory for Sonic We have Three instances of Sonic, or a counterpart, being royalty
And from what I remember hearing, three’s a pattern.
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scapegrace74-blog · 3 years
Text
New Ways of Turning Into Stone
A/N  Another long drive, another Outlander fanfic idea that dropped into my brain out of nowhere, shoving aside the historical AU I have been wrestling with for months.  Here’s the pitch: Claire Beauchamp is a psychiatrist specializing in grief counselling.  Jamie Fraser is referred to her by his sister, who is worried for his well-being after a series of family tragedies.  You can probably guess the rest, but I’m going to write it anyway.   The title is taken from a song by the amazing Phantogram that was playing as the story idea came to me.
After losing my WIP virginity posting Ginger Snap, I’m going out on that limb again and posting this first chapter with only a rough outline mapped out in my head.  You people are a terrible influence!  Also, there will be some trigger warnings on future chapters, so please watch out for those.   And now, on with our show.
Claire Beauchamp glanced down at the leather-bound calendar open on her desk.  The ivory page for Thursday was packed to the margins, each hourly block filled with the name of a patient followed by a series of cuneiform symbols she used to remind herself of the last session, course of treatment, overall progress, all while maintaining strict confidentiality.  Not even Geillis Duncan, her office administrator and very good friend, knew how to decode the script.
Geillis liked to laugh at the old-fashioned day planner, reminding Claire that their practice utilized software that could perform the same function electronically, but she enjoyed the act of physically logging each session.  The solid heft of her Mont Blanc pen in her hand, a medical school graduation gift from her Uncle Lamb.  The scratch and grab of the nub as it bled black ink over virgin paper.  It was a tactile ceremony in a detached world.  Geillis would nod and then tell her she needed to get laid.
Speak of the devil, a sharp rap on her office door was followed by the appearance of her strawberry blonde head. blue eyes alight with mischief.
“Yer two o’clock is here.  Did ye need more time tae finish bolting down tha’ chaff ye call a salad, or can I show him in?”
“It’s kale,” she defended.  “It’s full of anti-oxidants.”
A disdainful scoff was the only response.
“Yes, Geil, please show Mister...” she glanced down at her planner, “...Fraser in, thank you.”
The tiny rectangle contained only a name, which meant this was their first appointment.  Geillis vetted all prospective patients, but Claire preferred to go into the first meeting blind, with no assumptions or pre-conceptions.  
She wondered what misfortune had caused Mr. Fraser to seek out her psychiatric services.  The death of a child, perhaps, or the end of an extra-marital affair.  People grieved for very different reasons and worked through or around that grief with a surprising variety of coping mechanisms.   Most called upon her practice in much the same way they would a breakdown truck when their car’s engine failed.  They simply wanted to get back on the road to happiness.
Despite the degrees and accreditations that decorated her office wall, Claire wasn’t certain such a thing was possible.  In her experience, grief was a phantom limb that never really went away.  The best one could hope for was to learn healthier ways of living with it.  
The sound of Geillis clearing her throat snapped her back to the present.
“Was there something else, Geil?”
“Och, no’ really.  Just, when yer considerin’ how tae thank me later on, remember tha’ my favourite stone is an emerald, that I prefer gold tae silver, but platinum is ne’er amiss.”
“What are you on about, Duncan?”  But her friend had already disappeared back into the reception area, leaving behind only the glow of her Cheshire smile.  Claire was shaking her head, bemused, when another knock rang out, this one considerably heavier than the first.
“Come in,” she called as she looked up.  And up.  And up some more.
The man who now practically filled her office door had to be at least six foot four, with powerful shoulders and a broad torso encased in a blue henley.  His nearly endless legs were likewise muscular, as testified by the stretch of his jeans across each thigh.  As if his physique wasn’t remarkable enough, he had a head of outrageously wavy red hair, worn long enough to graze the tops of his ears and the nape of his neck, but swept back from a high brow by a judicious use of product.  His face was angular in a pleasingly unique way, with a day or two’s growth of beard counter-balancing an almost youthful, earnest appearance.  But his most striking feature by far were his aquamarine eyes that shimmered like a tropical sea.  Eyes that were currently observing her with perplexity.
“Dr. Beauchamp?” a deep Scottish brogue inquired.  He pronounced it as though she were French.
“Yes,” she startled.  “That’s me.  And it’s pronounced Beecham.  Please, come in Mister Fraser.”  She shuffled a few items around her desk needlessly as she tried to compose herself.  Damn Geillis for not giving her a bit more warning that her newest client was some sort of fitness model.
“Thank ye,” he replied.  “An’ it’s pronounced Jamie, if ye please.”   She added wit to the growing list of the man’s attributes.
If anything, he grew even more impressive as he approached.  She could see he was nervous, although hiding it well.  His striking eyes darted about the room, trying to get a sense of his environment.  She indicated the well-upholstered armchair that sat to one side of her desk.
“Have a seat,” she invited.
With a surprising amount of grace for one so tall, he eased into the chair but didn’t lean back.  The fingers of his left hand tapped restlessly against his thigh.  She watched him quietly, waiting for him to speak.  This was a trick she had learned when she first started practicing psychiatry, but in this case it also allowed her to continue her appraisal.  He was, she concluded, the most attractive man she’d ever seen in the flesh.
“No couch,” he finally observed.
“No.  That’s a bit of a Hollywood trope, I’m afraid.  Lying prone in front of a stranger is hardly conducive to feeling at ease.”
He nodded his acceptance of her logic, but was otherwise silent.
“So,” she spoke at last, unable to wait him out, “what caused you to seek out counselling, Jamie?”  His name suited him, she thought as she spoke it for the first time.  Both boyish and imposing at once.
“I didna.  Twas my sister, Jenny, who insisted I see a doctor.”  His mobile mouth twisted into a grimace.  She could imagine the sibling discord that such a demand would have caused.  Whoever this Jenny was, she was made of strong stuff.  Unfortunately for her, a hostile patient would receive no benefit from merely visiting her office.  Counselling was a participatory process, and she could tell from the stubborn set of Jamie’s shoulders that he had no intention of participating.
“I see,” she said carefully.  “Well, it’s your time and your dime, Mr. Fraser.  This session lasts for forty-five minutes, and you’ve not been here for five.  There’s a carafe of hot water on the table over there, if you care for some tea.  Or you’re welcome to just enjoy that comfortable chair for another forty minutes.  I’ll be working on some administrative necessities.”
She turned her chair away from him, but from the corner of her eye she could see his gobsmacked expression.  He had clearly expected her to cajole and manipulate him into co-operating, but that simply wasn’t her style.
“I meant no offence, doctor.  I’m certain ye’re verra good at what ye do.  Tis only... well, Jenny is my older sister, ye ken.  She practically raised me.  And so ofttimes she treats me like a muckle-sized bairn, and no’ a man who’s capable of lookin’ after himself.”
As he spoke, Jamie leaned forward until his elbows rested on his knees, expressive hands gesturing in front of his face.  Hostile to the notion of counselling he might be, but he clearly wanted her to understand it wasn’t a slight.  As a physician, she had been trained to never take a patient’s reactions personally, but it didn’t mean she didn’t appreciate the effort.
“No offence taken, Jamie.  If you don’t need my assistance, I’m happy for you.  That’s one less person hurting in the world.”
“I didna say I wasna hurting.  But I can handle it my own way.  I am handling it, that is,” he hurried to add.
Unable to sit still any longer, he rose and walked over to the small table where she kept an assortment of herbal teas and a tray of Geillis’ homemade biscuits.  Bending over, Jamie set about making himself some; chamomile by the smell of it.  The sound of spoon ringing off porcelain as he stirred in some honey made her smile, reminding her of Lamb and his obsession with the lost art of afternoon tea.
“Can I make ye a cup?”
The question was so unexpected, it took her a moment to process it.  The tea was there as a distraction for her patients, to give them something to do with their bodies as they worked through difficult emotions.  None of them had ever thought to offer her a reprieve as well.
“No, thank you.  I just finished lunch.”
He dipped a shortbread into the steaming tea, then ate it in a single bite.  Instead of sitting back down, he began to browse the framed certificates and photographs along the far wall as he sipped his tea.  With his back turned, her eyes dipped to admire his ass, which filled out his jeans perfectly.  When she caught herself, she gave her head a shake, appalled at her lack of professional detachment.  Maybe Geillis was right.  Maybe she really did need to get laid.
“How long have ye been a doctor?” Jamie asked without turning around.
“Ten years,” she replied.  “But I’ve only been a psychiatrist for the last two.”
It was a dangerous topic, and she blamed his ass for letting the words slip out.  Fortunately, his inquisitiveness took him in an entirely different direction.
“Were ye some kind of prodigy, then? Ye hardly seem old enough tae have yer own practice, let alone fer a decade.  If ye dinna mind me sayin’ so,” he added quickly, as though realizing what he’d just said.
“Not at all.  And you hardly seem young enough to be a, what was it? A muckle-sized bairn?”
As he turned to look her way, she understood the expression ‘shot-gun smile’ for the first time.  It spread across his face like a sunbeam, transforming what was already remarkable into a work of art.  If she hadn’t been sitting, she likely would have stumbled backward from the force of the blow.  Scrambling for something familiar to keep her from making a very grave fool of herself in front of this man, she clasped her clinical training with both hands.
“Are you and your sister close?” 
“Aye, when we’re no’ tryin’ not tae kill the other.  Our Mam died when I was only four, and with Da workin’ dawn til dark on the farm, Jenny was parent, teacher an’ playmate all rolled inta one.”
“You’re not from Edinburgh, then?”  Although what that had to do with his counselling, she hadn’t a clue. 
“Nah, I hail from a wee village in the Highlands ye’ve likely ne’er heard of called Broch Mordha.”  She shook her head to indicate she was indeed unfamiliar with it.  Jamie launched into a detailed description of the place, his hands sculpting the landscape out of thin air.  He obviously cared very deeply for his home, and she felt a twinge of jealousy, having never known that feeling of deep belonging  herself.
“And what brought you to Old Smoky?” she asked as he wound down, her interest piqued.  It was like slamming a lead door on his previously sunny disposition.
“Family obligations.” Said in such a way as to make it clear that no further words would be forthcoming on the topic.  She regretted her nosiness immediately, despite what it revealed about his emotional state.  Jamie was most certainly grieving something, but handling it he was not.
Before she could find a way back to the easy flow of conversation, a chime from her laptop indicated that the session was up.  She couldn’t bear to dismiss him without trying to set things right.
“Listen, Jamie, I understand that you only came here today to humour your sister, but I want you to consider something.  Whether we’re grieving or angry or jealous, or any destabilizing feeling, we’re often the worst surveyors of our own landscape.  Just like you can’t know your place on the sea without referencing the stars, it takes something external to ourselves to measure how far adrift we have become.  Your sister obviously loves you.  Ask yourself, what has she seen in you that prompted her to force you to seek help?”
They parted with cordial but muted goodbyes.  The door closed behind him, leaving Claire to stare at the blank rectangle in her planner that bore his name.  No coded symbols flowed from her pen.  When the door re-opened, it was Geillis, closing it firmly behind her.
“Weel, did I no’ tell ye?  Wee fox, tha’ one.  And he told me he liked my shortbread!”   Geillis said this as though it was some kind of sexual euphemism, which for all Claire knew, it was.
“Yes,” she replied distractedly.  “He’s very nice.”
“Nice!  Nice?  Tha’ man is tae nice what Wagyu is tae beef jerky.  Have ye completely lost yer senses, woman?”  
“Yes, well, he’s a patient, Geillis, as you well know.  And not one I’m likely to see again,” she added, acknowledging out loud what she already knew.
“Oh, no?” Geillis sing-songed.  “Thas’ strange, as he just made an appointment fer the same time next week.”
Claire’s eyes flew to where her friend looked on, smug as could be.
“Yer three o’clock called tae say she was runnin’ five minutes late.  I’ll leave ye tae think about yer... patient.”
Claire picked up her pen, trying to pull together something resembling a professional summary of her first appointment with Jamie.  Her mind replayed their interaction, but all she could remember was the way his eyes crinkled when he was listening attentively, the tidy half-moons of his fingernails, the seam of his jeans as it contoured his thigh, and the cymbal-crash in her chest that accompanied his smile.
Patient, she reminded herself.  Jamie Fraser is your patient. 
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soulmate-game · 4 years
Text
Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020
Day 1: Meeting for the first time
Not my best work, but decent. I hope you enjoy!
—*—*—*—*—*
Mari was intelligent. That much could not be disputed— and despite her dislike for the sciences in general, she was fully capable of comprehending them when she wanted to. She just usually didn’t care enough to try. But genetics? That was kinda cool. So, when she was ten years old and they began their short unit on it, she was obsessed. And by obsessed, she dove in head first. Like, the fact that her eye color didn’t match either of her parents or grandparents. How could she have blue eyes when none of them did? She delved in deeper and deeper until she uncovered a truth her parents hadn’t wanted her to figure out quite so soon.
She was adopted.
Mari never told her parents about her discovery, the epiphany only managing to sate her curiosity. Who needed blood relation when her parents loved her like real ones anyway? But as the years passed and certain life changes came up, she couldn’t help but feel intrigued by the mystery of where her DNA came from. The heroism thing had to have some root in genetics, right? Okay, so maybe she was just looking for someone to be mad at besides Master Fu. But still, could she be blamed?
So, when Marinette was thirteen years old, she traced her DNA back to her biological parents. And for a while, that was it. She had once again sated her curiosity. She didn’t need anything else. Her mother was dead, and she doubted her biological father knew a thing about her. So Marinette forgot about her discovery, or at least let it sink into the recesses of her brain. And there it stayed, until she was eighteen.
—* — * — * — * — *
It had to be one of the most accidentally dramatic days possible. Top floor of Wayne Enterprises, in one of Bruce’s massive conference rooms with every member of his large family in attendance. Even Kori and Mar’i were there, and Jason’s boyfriend Roy. Everyone was getting fairly restless, considering that Bruce had only informed a few of them (Read: just Dick, who was vibrating in his seat and not soothing anyone’s nerves) about what they were even all called in for. In their civilian identities, no less. It was very odd. Damian, not least of all, was sitting beside Bruce with his jaw clenched but eyes scanning the room in curiosity. He had come a long way from the surly ten year old, and he hadn’t even killed anyone in four years. He had well and truly become a Bat, and with that progress came the lessening of his old temper and brattiness.
Make note: lessening. Not erasure.
It wasn’t long, maybe ten or fifteen minutes of Bruce checking his phone and grinning secretively without answering anyone’s questions, before a businesslike tap-tap-tap sounded on the door to the conference room. Immediately, everything went silent. Kori, Tim, and Jason stopped trying to get Dick to say anything intelligible and went instead to just keeping the man in his seat at all. Bruce let out a rare, soft chuckle before raising his coffee mug to his lips. He called out:
“Come on in, miss MDC. We’re ready for our meeting,” before taking a long sip.
And as soon as the door opened all the way, admitting a short woman of asian descent with navy black hair brushing the bottom of her shoulder blades and piercing (familiar. Too familiar) deep blue eyes, he promptly choked. Trying his damndest not to get coffee everywhere, Bruce devolved into a coughing fit even as his eyes continued to flitter up to the figure just admitted into the room. The woman pretended not to notice his suffering, closing the door behind her and walking forward towards the side of the rectangular-set-up ring of tables that was closest to her and also unoccupied. She plopped a heavy bag down onto the table, reaching in and pulling out a large red and white polka-dotted journal from within, along with a black pen. But despite her businesslike movements and her silence, nobody missed the way that her far too familiar stunningly blue eyes twinkled in suppressed mirth. She didn’t seem surprised at all.
That was the last time Bruce was ever gonna let Tim do someone’s background check on his own. He should have at least looked at the file Tim had made, but of course not. Tim was capable, he trusted the boy with half of their entire family’s company. One background check on one highly reputable designer? Of course he could trust Tim.
Except apparently not. This is what Bruce got for keeping secrets.
“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Bruce spoke once he got a handle of himself, pushing back his chair almost hurriedly and standing. Damian followed suit, laser focused on his father along with everyone else who knew just how out of character the older man was being just then. It was hard to fluster Bruce at all those days, let alone make him choke and hurry to stand. “I— Welcome to WE. I’m—“ Bruce was cut off by a soft chuckle.
“Bruce Wayne, my biological father and employer for the next few weeks. I know,” Marinette interrupted, sending a sly smile his way. “I had a feeling somebody didn’t actually tell you my name. I was planning on coming to Gotham later this year after I graduated Lycee and demanding to get to know you, but it looks like you did the hard work for me without even knowing. But,” her smile widened in good humor as she walked up closer to Bruce, holding her hand out for a shake. “I do have to say, now that I’ve seen you in person I feel a bit cheated. With how tall you are, you’d think I would have inherited at least a couple more inches.”
“Excuse me? Who do you think you are, claiming to be a Wayne?” Damian asked, tone sharp and his emerald eyes glaring straight towards her. Bruce just took Marinette’s hand, shaking it gently from surprise, but his foot gently kicked his son in the ankle.
“Damian,” Bruce said simply, the single name laced with warning as it came out of his mouth. He turned his attention back to the girl in front of him. “It is nice to finally meet you in person, Marinette. I admit, I did not know of our relation until a few years ago, and I wasn’t in the right mindset back then to welcome another child. Besides, I had it on good authority that your adoptive parents are more than wonderful to you.”
Marinette shrugged. “I don’t mind. I didn’t look into who my biological father was until I was thirteen, anyway. I don’t think things would have ended well if you had just shown up in Paris one day asking to be involved in my life. Enough of that though,” Marinette turned to the sixteen year old by Bruce’s side now stiffened and wide-mouthed. His entire expression, subdued as it was, still managed to clearly telegraph betrayal. And then those eyes locked on Marinettes, and the emerald simmered into something much more vile and acidic. Marinette was not perturbed, merely giving the younger boy a smile and holding out her hand for a shake.
“You must be my half-brother, Damian. I expected someone carved out of stone, with how the tabloids paint you as unfeeling and cold,” she joked. Damian glared harder. She raised an eyebrow. “You seem pretty heated and angry, like a hissing cat, to me. And by the way, I never claimed to be a Wayne. My last name is Dupain-Cheng, and I don’t plan on changing it anytime soon. Having the same blood relation as you does not mean I plan to throw away the name given to me by the ones who actually raised me. But, it does mean that I will get to know you one way or another. I’m not easy to get rid of, and I’ve always wanted a sibling or two.”
That was when the room couldn’t hold it any more; everyone bar the three in the center of the room burst out laughing. It wasn’t too raucous, confusion dampening the hysteria that usually would have taken over, but there was a good round of chuckles and laughter. When it settled down, Damian’s shoulders had slightly relaxed but he still hadn’t taken Marinette’s hand. Instead, he turned to his father again.
“Explain.” He demanded. Bruce sighed, his gaze connecting with Marinette’s own identical one. He searched her for any hesitation, but only got a flash of a bright smile in return. Bruce straightened his shoulders, clasping his hands behind his back and turning to face Damian and the rest of the room.
“I found out about Marinette shortly after Damian was… introduced to the family,” Bruce admitted, resisting the urge to glance at Marinette after the hedged mention of how he met Damian. “I decided to scour every resource I had to make sure I couldn’t be surprised by another biological child. And, lo and behold, I found out that I was right to do so. Her biological mother passed away in childbirth however, so she was adopted by a couple in Paris. I did not see any need to contact her at the time. A friend of mine did happen to be in Paris back then though, and hung around to make sure Marinette was being treated well before leaving again.”
“You sent a friend of yours to spy on me?” Marinette asked, but she just sounded thoroughly amused. “Geez. Now I know where I get it from. When I was thirteen, I had a bit of a bad habit of spying on my friends when I was worried instead of confronting them head on. It took a while to grow out of, and even now I can easily slip back into the habit if I’m not careful. But, as great as this reunion is, it isn’t what I’m being paid to be here for,” Her grin turned downright wicked as she snapped open her sketchbook and clicked her pen.
“I am MDC, the owner and CEO of the up and rising fashion label Spotted Designs, where every look will turn heads and ensure confidence. Monsieur Wayne,” her grin turned into a sly smirk when she said his name, which visibly made Bruce twitch. “Has hired me today to design all of you a new outfit for his gala in four months time, as well as a casual outfit of your own choosing should you want one. Before I get started, I would like to ask you to please sign your NDAs, which my assistant and best friend will bring in for you in a few minutes, before we conclude this meeting. I go by an alias for a reason, I value my privacy, and I would prefer it if word did not get out about my being MDC just yet. Being CEO of a business I started from scratch when I’m only eighteen right now will garner attention that I am not patient enough to deal with right now.”
The silence was near palpable until Jason huffed in amusement and remarked: “Yup. I can see the resemblance.”
“Resemblance?” Duke asked, leaning forward with an incredulous look on his face. “It’s like seeing a tiny, genderswapped, innocent copy of Damian. Is anyone else terrified right now?”
“Tt,” Damian tutted, letting a heavy breath out through his nose before shoving his hand forward. He didn’t look pleased, but neither did he look venomous or betrayed anymore. “Miss Dupain-Cheng. I am Damian Wayne, and I look forward to working with you.” He greeted as if the past few minutes hadn’t happened at all. Marinette beamed, letting out a short belt of delighted laughter before clasping his hand firmly with hers.
“My competence always wins people over,” she teased.
“Only if they don’t see you trip over empty air first,” a new voice joined in, lightly joining the teasing. It belonged to a tall, blond haired green eyed man that looked about the same age as Marinette herself. He came carrying a large two-foot stack of papers as easily as if he was only carrying one sheet. Closing the door behind him with his foot, he went around the large square of tables distributing NDAs to everyone who hadn’t already signed one. “Mari’s the clumsiest person I’ve ever seen, but I’ve also seen her hand sew a double sided ball gown with a layer of knife-resistant fabric in less than thirty hours and still threaten anyone to come near with a needle to the eye, so I’ve learned to just not take anything about her at face value anymore.”
“Oh shut up,” Marinette snapped back cheerfully, rolling her eyes. “This is my best friend, assistant, and business partner Adrien Agreste.”
“I deal with all the paperwork and spotlight that she doesn’t want to handle,” he agreed, nearly blinding everyone with his beaming smile. “Now. Please sign these NDAs, and you can experience Marinette’s skill firsthand.”
After papers were signed and Adrien left, Bruce tried to start another conversation with Marinette.
“So, when did you find out—“
“I’m going to start with taking all of your measurements, if you don’t mind. You first, Monsieur Wayne.”
Bruce blinked, not used to being interrupted. “Ah. We can do this tomorrow, I wasn’t expecting—“
“That’s not my fault, Monsieur Wayne. I came here knowing exactly who I was going to deal with, and you want me to make a quite frankly horrifying amount of clothing in a very short amount of time. Any designer lesser than me would be completely incapable of meeting your deadline. I plan on sticking to my schedule, which means that we are going to get everyone’s measurements and a baseline of the kind of designs you all want done today before the end of our scheduled appointment.”
“Marinette, I would really like to talk about—“
“Arms out. And take your suit jacket off, I can’t get an accurate measurement with it,” she once again interrupted, businesslike and efficient as she took her measuring tape and lined it up against various parts of his body, jotting down the results. She didn’t entertain any of his attempts at conversation in the meantime, instead using the dead time to grill Damian on what he wanted for his suit design.
And, like a partnership that never should have existed, Damian merely smirked and played along with her game. He answered her questions thoroughly but precisely, never allowing their father a chance to make actual conversation. Next thing the poor eldest Wayne knew, Marinette had already taken everyone’s measurements and almost an hour had passed. No less than ten pages of her notebook were already filled with neat lines of notes and numbers.
“You really take this whole thing seriously, don’t you?” Tim asked, in the middle of describing his ideal suit to Marinette. She hummed, grinning up at him mysteriously. As if she was in on a joke he hadn’t heard.
“Designing is my life, Monsieur Drake. This company is something I’ve been building from the ground up since I was thirteen, I’ve made my own clothes since I was ten. Of course I take it seriously. Now. I believe that is everything I need,” she stood up, asking a few last second questions as she gathered up her things. Seeing his chance, Brucie walked her to the door.
“Really, Marinette, I would like to talk to you more. Would you like to come to the Manor tonight, for dinner maybe?”
Marinette smirked, opening the door before Bruce could and turning her head to say over her shoulder: “Not tonight, but maybe tomorrow. Do me a favor though, and try not to get too injured on patrol. I need you all in good enough shape to stand while I do your initial fittings later this week. Gotham might need it’s vigilantes, but you will all regret it if you break a bone before I can fit my prototypes to you.”
Nobody was able to say a word before she closed the door behind her and continued briskly to the elevator. Bruce stood, dumbfounded. Tim, Jason, and Dick, after a moment, started cackling.
“Oh yeah. That’s Damian’s sister.”
“Tt. At least this proves it.”
Bruce, suddenly very exhausted, turned to his son while rubbing his forehead. “Proves what, Damian?”
His trademark razor sharp smirk overtook his face as Damian replied: “Your blood children really are much more competent and effective than the strays you took in.”
“Hey!”
—*—*—*—*—*
“You didn’t have a full conversation?” Adrien guessed, looking exactly like the cat who caught the canary. Marinette had her head in her hands, her entire face red.
“I didn't know how to have an actual conversation with them, Adrien! You should have seen it, Monsieur Wayne—“
“You can just say your father, you know.”
“—Wanted to talk about feelings. Emotions! Gooey, family stuff and probably sentimental things. In front of so many people, too. I panicked!”
“You panicked and went full Business Empress mode,” Adrien agreed, patting her back in both comfort and condescension. “It’s okay. You at least agreed to dinner tomorrow night.”
“Fuuuuuuuuuck, I diiiiiid. Quick, let’s come up with a way to fake my kidnapping.”
“No.”
“Damn.”
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curlybookwriter0294 · 3 years
Text
All to Ourselves
Summary:  He must be honest with himself. He had never pictured himself with someone. He always thought that being in a relationship would be putting himself at risk if an enemy had found out about the person that he was with. They could use that person against him, and he would never live with himself if something were to happen to them. Luckily, he has a powerful empath as a girlfriend, and he knows full well that she can handle herself perfectly fine on her own. Being with Raven had brought so many new experiences that they had both shared with each other. And he knows that being intimate with her would unlock newfound vulnerabilities between them and if that were to happen, they need a serious conversation about it first.
AN: I meant to post this last week when I had posted this on A03, but school started again and I was slammed with homework about Human Diseases lol. ANYWAYS!! Here is the smut one shot of DamiRae that is more descriptive than my previous one for DamiRae week lol. Please let me know how you guys like it!! HAPPY READING!!
It was the sound of someone whistling that carried through the long hallway of the Wayne Manor that had caught Damian Wayne’s attention. His three-year-old black Great Dane, Titus, made a noise next to him and Damian placed a finger to his lips in a silent way to tell him to be quiet as he resumed walking down the hallway.
 When the former trained assassin had arrived at the Manor from his fencing practice from Gotham Academy, he had found the mansion empty except for Titus who had greeted him at the door. He was surprised that the family butler Alfred Pennyworth wasn’t there next to the Great Dane and that made him suspect that there was something wrong.
 The whistling grew louder the closer he came to a door that was ajar and Damian knew that it was Dick Grayson’s room. He narrowed his eyes as he poked his head in to see the acrobat hero putting on a jacket. “Oh, hey, D.” He said without turning around as he checked himself in the mirror that was on his dresser. “What’s up?”
 Damian snorted as he leaned against the door frame and folded his arms over his chest. “Where is everyone?” he asked, sighing when Titus walked up next to him and nudged his wet nose against him. His lips twitched up when he lightly pets him on the tip of his nose.
 Let’s see,” Dick said, tilting his head back with a hum. “Tim is out on date with Kon. Same with Roy and Jason. Step and Cass are patrolling which Bruce told me to remind you to take the night off. No objections,” he quickly added when Damian was about to open his mouth to object his father’s order. “Speaking of Bruce, he is out on a date with Selina and Alfred went along with them as the driver and I am about to meet up with Kori. Which means… you have the whole mansion to yourself, Dami.” Dick looked over at Titus who cocked his head to the side at him. “Well… somewhat to yourself.”
 Damian raised a brow at the older acrobat hero and sighed. “Fine. It made sense as to why I didn’t see Pennyworth at the door with Titus. I suppose I could use this time to read.”
 Dick stared at the former assassin quizzically as if he had said something strange. “Did you not hear what I just said?”
 Damian knitted his brows in confusion at him. “I heard exactly what you said Grayson. I am not deaf,” he said with a roll of his emeralds. “What’s the matter with I said?”
 Dick pinched the bridge of his nose as he finally remembered that he was talking to a different type of eighteen-year-old. “Dami, you will be alone. Which means that you have this entire mansion to yourself. Maybe I don’t know… perhaps you could invite Raven over?”
 Damian wrinkled up his nose at Dick’s suggestion and huffed at him. “And why on Earth would I want to do that?”
 Dick groaned and shook at his head at how clueless the son of the Dark Knight can be at times. Damian was supposed to the ‘smartest’ of all of them correct? So far, he is clearly not catching on to what he was trying to say to him. “Do you remember what we had talked about a few months back? In the kitchen?” he asked, praying that Damian would remember that awkward conversation. He sighed in relief when the young Robin gave him a curt nod. “Thank goodness. I was about to say. Anyways…hellooooo this is your perfect opportunity! There would be no interruptions! It will be just you and umm…Raven.”
 “Grayson—”
 “Anyways,” Dick interrupted, clearing his throat as he grabbed his wallet and keys that were sitting on the dresser. He walked by Damian and Titus and made sure to give the Great Dane a light touch just behind his pointed ears. “Just remember what we talked about okay? That’s all I’m going to say. Have a good night D.”
 Damian leaned his head back against the door frame as he watched Dick jogged happily down the spiraled staircase and out the front door, leaving him alone with his three-year-old Great Dane. He pushed himself off the frame and made his way down towards his room with Titus by his side and sat down on his neatly made bed that was covered in green blankets. “What do you think?” he asked Titus, petting him behind his ear. “Should I invite Raven over and take Grayson’s advice?”
 Titus barked at the mention of his empath girlfriend and Damian sighed when he had leaned back against his bed, remembering the conversation vividly that he had with his older adoptive brother. He didn’t show it openly, but he was extremely nervous when Grayson was asking him if they were sexually active when he had caught them kissing in the kitchen. He was so distracted by the taste of Raven’s soft lips that he didn’t feel that there was another presence in the kitchen with them.
 He must be honest with himself. He had never pictured himself with someone. He always thought that being in a relationship would be putting himself at risk if an enemy had found out about the person that he was with. They could use that person against him, and he would never live with himself if something were to happen to them. Luckily, he has a powerful empath as a girlfriend, and he knows full well that she can handle herself perfectly fine on her own. Being with Raven had brought so many new experiences that they had both shared with each other. And he knows that being intimate with her would unlock newfound vulnerabilities between them and if that were to happen, they need a serious conversation about it first.
 Damian sat up in his bed and reached into his pocket to pull his phone to dial her number, smiling when she had answered on the first ring. “Hi.”
 “Hi,” she responded, and Damian could immediately picture her sitting crossed legged in her room with a book in her hands. “You caught me in the middle of reading. Is there something wrong?”
 Damian snorted when his assumption about his girlfriend was correct and threaded his fingers through his dark hair. “Nothing is wrong. I was just informed that I have the entire manor will be empty for quite sometime and it is just Titus and I,” Titus made a noise next to him and Damian bent down to scratch behind his ear again. “And Titus misses you.”
 Raven laughed in his ear. “Oh? Well, tell Titus that I miss him too and when you bring him back to the Tower, I’ll be making sure to give him extra treats. What are you going to do in that huge manor now that you have to yourself?”
 Damian rolled his eyes at Raven’s promise about treats for Titus and the Great Dane’s head popped up at the mention of treats. He must remind her later not to spoil him too much. “I was thinking of reading but…” he lost his train of thought as he thought about what his older brother had said to him and cleared his throat to try again. “Perhaps maybe you can come over?”
 There was a brief pause between the birds and Damian waited patiently for the response from his purple eyed girlfriend. Damian wondered if she were waiting for the exact reason as to why she should be coming over especially since the two of them would be totally alone. “I’ve been meaning to show you the library that we have at the manor. We have every book that you can think of. Tonight would be the perfect opportunity to show you without being interrupted by noisy siblings.”
 “Alright. I can’t wait to see that library.” Raven said with a light chuckle.
 Damian and Titus sat patiently on porch steps of the manor. His green eyes scanning the empty lot, looking for any signs of Raven’s magic portal that would allow her to transport anywhere across the universe. Damian cocked his head to the side when Titus made a soft noise next to him, making him turn into the direction straight ahead just in time a dark round circle was forming just a few feet from him.
 He smiled when a figure wearing long black boots and a purple tank top dress step out from the portal and Titus immediately ran towards Raven and jumped on her chest in excitement at seeing his other parent. “Titus!” he said in a warning and the Great Dane quickly sat down.
 “Oh, come on Damian, it has been a while.” Raven said with a roll of her amethyst eyes, bending down to sneak a small treat to Titus. “Isn’t that right Titus? Look at you, getting so big,” she cooed softly, playing at his pointy ears.
 Damian cleared his throat as he walked towards them with his hands behind his back with a raised brow at her. “Did you had any trouble getting here?” he asked, observing her when she gave Titus another treat for no reason. “You’re spoiling him.”
 “No, I did not have any trouble getting here. It doesn’t drain my magic anymore. Also, that is why he loves me more because I spoil him.” Raven said with a snort, walking over towards him to greet him properly with a chaste kiss on his lips. “Now, about that library that you wanted to show me.”
 Damian reached down to wrap his hand in hers. “Right this way Raven.”
     Damian could tell that his plum haired girlfriend was at awe at how large the library was. He was smirking as he leaned against one of the bookshelves as he watches her pull out random books. “You weren’t kidding when you said that this library has every book that you can think of,” she said, holding out a copy of Wuthering Heights. “Should I even ask who reads this?” she asked with interest, opening the book and started to read at a random page.
 “That would be Todd.” Damian told him, making Raven look at him in surprise. “I know, I am shocked too that he even knows how to pick up a book to read a decent classic.”
 “I can see him reading something like this,” Raven said with a hum, reaching up to place the book back on the top shelf. Damian watched her struggle with putting it back and he sighed as he walked over beside her and used his height to put it back for her. “I could’ve done that myself,” Raven huffed out with a frown on her face as she wrapped an arm around herself.
 “You could’ve just used your powers.” Damian pointed out with a smirk on his face. “But you didn’t.”
 “Maybe I did it on purpose to get you over here a bit closer,” Raven said with sly smile and Damian chuckled as he moved a bit closer towards her personal space.
 “Like this?” Damian asked, looking into his girlfriend’s lavender eyes when they had met his green ones. He cocked his head to the side when she started to hum quietly as she placed a fingernail on her the tip of her chin. “Or more like this?” he asked, stepping forward a bit closer to her personal space.
 “Getting warmer there Boy Wonder.” Raven told him, lifting a brow when Damian stepped closer. This time, the young adult birds could feel each other’s breath when he started to lean down towards her lips that he briefly tasted before when she had first arrived. “It’s getting pretty hot in here.” She whispered.
 “Like this?” Damian asked quietly, stopping inches away from brushing his lips against hers.
 “Yes,” Raven breathed out when Damian finally closed the gap between them and started to kiss her softly on the lips. “Definitely like that,” she said when they had broken apart, leaning back against the bookshelf when Damian had caged her in with his hands on each side of her.
 Damian leaned in to kiss the quiet empath once more but this time it was slower and hotter than their previous kisses that they had shared together after they had become a couple. He moaned when he felt Raven’s tongue licked his bottom lip, asking for permission to deepen their kiss in the quiet library while Titus was in Damian’s room sleeping, leaving them completely alone.
 Damian enjoys kissing Raven. He enjoys the little sounds she would make when his tongue battle her own tongue for dominance. He enjoys the hold that Raven has around his neck to bring him even closer to her, molding their bodies even closer together. He tries to concentrate the feel of her lips against his just when a quiet whisper of his older brother’s voice enters his mind. “Raven,” he said quietly when they had stopped kissing to catch their breath. “We need to have a conversation.”
 Raven furrowed her brows at him, sighing in disappointment as she licked her lips. “Now?”
 Damian nodded his head with a sigh and cleared his throat as he reaches up to rake his hair with his fingers. “That day in the kitchen…” he started, and he had stopped talking when Raven rolled her eyes at him and was about to say something but didn’t when he had held up a hand. “I should’ve listened to you and I understand that. I am bringing it up now because Grayson and I…had a conversation.”
 Raven crossed her arms as she stared at him. “What kind of conversation?” she asked slowly.
 “About copulation.”
 Damian looked at Raven when she had wrinkled her nose at him, and he knew that he should’ve used a different word just like Dick had warned him to do because he wasn’t honestly sure if she would truly send him to another dimension. He mentally prepared himself when the silence between them continued.
 “You mean the birds and the bees?” she asked after what it feels like an eternity to him, and Damian sighed in relief when she didn’t use her powers. “I am…familiar with it,” she told him, uncrossing her arms and started to fidget with her fingers nervously. “I also had a conversation with Kori about it as well after the kitchen incident. What of it?”
 What Raven had said made Damian raise a brow at her. This was the first-time hearing about this. He knows that Raven and the Princess of Tamaran were close so it shouldn’t be a surprise if the two superhero women would talk about things such as copulation. It was a similar relationship that he has with his older brother.
 “Have you ever…thought about it?” Damian asked her, watching her as her head tilted slightly to one side. He noticed slight coloring of her pale cheeks but didn’t say anything as he wait for the answer of his question.
 Raven looked down towards her black boots to avoid Damian’s piercing emeralds and took a deep breath before speaking. “I would sometimes think about what it would be like…to be intimate with you.” She chewed her lower lip when she lifted her eyes to look at him. “Have you ever thought about it?” She asked, repeating the question to him.
 “Since we’re both being honest here. Yes. I have.”
 Raven widen her eyes at his answer and her cheeks started to red again. “I-I see. What do you want to do now Damian?”
 Damian smiled at her question. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that Raven?” he asked with a chuckle when she had huffed at him and gave him a look. “Do you….perhaps want to continue?”
 “You mean with what we were doing before but more than just kissing?” Raven asked him, chewing her lower lip and Damian knew that she would only do that when she was nervous about something.
 “That is up to you. I am fine with what we were doing before but—” Damian made sure to look at her in the eyes when he spoke again. “If we were to go further, I’ll make sure to be gentle.” He promised, knowing that Raven knows that he always keeps his word.
 Raven chuckled at him as she places a strand of her plum behind her ear and pushed off the bookshelf to walk closer to him. She smiled at him as she placed a hand on the center of his chest. “I know that you will Damian.” She leaned in a bit closer to him over to whisper in his ear. “Which is why I want to do this with you.”
 It was Raven who made the first move when she leaned back from his ear and started to kiss him on the lips. Damian wrapped his arms around her waist to bring her closer to him. The kiss started off as chaste and gentle. He used the tip of his tongue to lick her bottom lip and she had given him permission to have the slick muscle in her mouth.
 “Couch.” Raven whispered in between kisses and Damian grunted in response and the two birds moved towards the large black couch that was in the corner of the library without breaking their heated kiss. She broke the kiss when her back touched the couch. “Very comfy.”
 Damian snorted at her comment and shook his head at her. “It is quite comfortable. I’ve fallen asleep in here a few times actually.” He said with a small hum in his throat. “Now, where were we?”
 “I believe Damian,” Raven said, using her arms to wrap around his neck to bring him back closer to her. “We were doing this.” She brought her lips against his in a deep kiss and ran her fingers through his dark hair.
 Damian chuckled against her soft lips and used a hand to wrap her leg around his hip to bring her body closer to his which caused her to moan underneath him. He broke the kiss and leaned down the nape of her neck to give it a light kiss along with a lick of his tongue. “Tell me how to take your dress off,” he whispered huskily against her ear as he ran his fingers up and down her leg lightly.
 “It’s on the side.” Raven told him breathlessly, moving to the side so that Damian could have better access on her dress zipper. The two birds paused what they were doing when he had helped her slipped out of her dress and placed it on the floor, leaving her only in her bra and underwear. Purple meets green as they stared at each other Damian could feel his face growing warm the more he had stared at her partially naked form. “Having fun staring?”
 Damian rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I’m staring because you are really beautiful.”
 “You’re just saying that Boy Wonder,” Raven told him, wrapping her arms protectively around herself in attempt to shield her body from his view. “I’ve never been this exposed to someone before.”
 Damian frowned as he leaned forward to remove her arms from herself. “I’m not just saying that Raven. You are beautiful. The most beautiful bird that I had ever seen. You have no idea how happy you’ve made me, and I hope that I make you happy as well.”
 He watched as Raven gave him a small smile when Damian brought her hand to his lips to softly kiss each of her fingers. “From my understanding…this requires two people to be naked.” Raven raised a brow at him. “And you are still fully clothed.” Damian scoffed at her and started to unbutton his blue shirt that he was wearing but Raven leaned forward to push his hands away so she could do it herself. “Let me do it since you did my dress.”
 Damian nodded and he had let her undo his buttons one by one while never looking away from his emerald gaze. Once the buttons were out of the way, he shrugged out of his shirt and tossed it on the floor next to Raven’s dress and her eyes went wide at the sight of his muscular form. He knows eventually Raven would see his scars that runs along his front and back. He was prepared for what she was going to say once she had seen them from his early days as a former trained assassin. He was shocked at what she said next after looking at him.
 “You’re very beautiful also. Scars and all.”
 “Raven.”
 “Damian.”
 Damian made the first move to lean forward to kiss her again as he used his strength to push her back down on the couch. Raven whispered his name when he used a hand to touch down her body, starting with her covered breast. “Is this alright?” he asked, pausing his movements on her left breast to look at her.
 “Y-yes,” Raven responded with a nod, sitting up slightly on the couch. “Do you want to do it?” she asked, turning around so Damian could see her clasp of her bra.
 Damian cleared his throat as he used his hands to undo her bra and helped Raven to shrug out of her bra and the item fell to the floor next to their other clothes. Neither of them said anything when she had turned around fully to face him, letting her rounded breast come in full view. It was Damian that broke the silence that had fell between them. “May I?”
 Instead of responding, Raven reached out to grab his hand to place it right on her breast and Damian widen his eyes at how soft it was. He used a thumb to gently play with her nipple and his action made her moan. “Are you—”
 “K-keep doing that. You can play with the other.” Was all she said as she leaned her back at his touch.
 Damian did what he was told and started to play with her right nipple as he leaned forward to kiss along her neck and her collar bone. He grunted against her skin as he continued to kiss down her body when Raven grabbed a fist full of his hair. “Kiss me.” Raven commanded, lifting his head from her stomach and brought his lips over to hers.
 He could feel her tiny hands move along his body and down towards his stomach. Damian whispered her name when she started to unbuckle his jeans. He reached down to grab her hand to stop her and placed both of her hands above her head. “This is about you. Allow me to make you feel comfortable. Is that alright with you, my love?”
 “What would you like to do?” she asked him, looking down at him and nibbled her lower lip. She knew from her conversations with Kori that there were several ways that someone could feel comfortable while having a sexual intercourse especially if that person was a virgin.
 “Again, shouldn’t I be asking you these questions?” Damian asked with a shake of his head with a snort. “What would you like to do?” he asked, throwing the question back at her.
 “I want you to touch me.” Raven softly commanded, looking away from Damian’s intense green gaze. She could feel her breath growing harder when the touch of his hands started roaming along her stomach. “Keep going,” she told him, gripping the edge of the couch tightly with her hands when Damian started to play with her belly button.
 “Raven, where else do you want me to touch you?” Damian asked as he leaned back up to her to peck her on the lips. “Show me.”
 Raven took a deep breath as she grabbed his and dragged it downward to her black underwear that she was wearing, watching him as his eyes widen in surprise. She blushed at his stare. “Can you touch me there? It’s supposed to help if you…touch me there.”
 “Are you sure?” Damian asked in a serious tone, taking a deep breath when he had looked down at his hand that was on her underwear. “I’ve never done this before, and I don’t want to hurt you.”
 “I’ll tell you want to do.” Raven told him, sitting up on the couch so she could lean in to kiss him. Without breaking their kiss, Raven reached down between their bodies where Damian’s hand was on her underwear and used her hand to push the fabric aside, hissing in his mouth when both of their fingers touched her bare skin that had only ever been touched by herself a few times. “Gently place your finger inside me,” Raven directed softly, moving his finger inside her. Her breath hitched when his calloused finger entered her slowly but not moving.
 “Just like this?” Damian asked her, looking at his flushed girlfriend’s face for any signs of discomfort while his finger was inside her but wasn’t moving. He wasn’t sure what the heck he was doing but he trusts Raven to tell him what to do. The beautiful bird nodded her head as she pushed her hips against his finger and Damian moaned at how wet she was around his finger. “What do you need me to do?”
 “M-move your finger around. Slowly. Please.” Raven moaned out, pushing her hips against his finger again with hope that Damian would do as she asked.
 Damian nodded his head at her command and started to push his finger in and out slowly, watching Raven’s whole body shook at his movements which made his stomach flip at the sight of her moaning his name in praise. He smiled down at her the more he twirled his finger around as he leaned forward with his other hand to play with her breast. “What else do you want me to do, Raven?”
 “Another finger. Damian, please another finger.”
 The way she had begged him made Damian’s stomach coil and he could feel a tightness grew in his pants as he placed his middle finger inside her. He mumbled out a curse in his native tongue when he had pushed in and out of it as he leaned down to kiss along her stomach before coming up to kiss along her throat, making it rumble as she huffed out a low moan.
 “This feels really good.” Raven whispered breathlessly, looking down at Damian’s muscular form, blushing when she noticed a bulge that had formed in his pants. “Those needs to come off.”
 Damian stopped his movements and looked down where Raven was staring and started to unbuckle his tight pants without leaving his eyes from her purple ones as he pushed them down along with his own underwear. He watches her wide her eyes at the sight of him. “Is this to your liking?” he found himself asking.
 “It’s h-huge.”
 “Raven, if you feel uncomfortable, we can stop now.” Damian told her in a serious tone, leaning forward to push back a few strands of her hair away from her face. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
 Raven grabbed his hand that was on her forehead and brought it over to her lips and kissed each digit before rubbing it against her cheek. “I want this. I know you, Damian. I know that you’ll be gentle with me.”
 “Raven. If we do this….we will need protection.”
 “My dress has pockets. It’s in there.” Raven told him, not missing the way how Damian rose a brow at her. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Kori wanted me to stay prepared. Just in case.”
 Damian nodded in understanding and moved away from her to grab the square foil item that was tucked in one of her dress pockets. He went back to Raven that was laying on the couch and leaned his head down to brush his lips against his as he lined himself against her wet heat. “Are you ready?” he asked softly as he pressed his forehead against hers.
 Raven nodded her head and used her legs to wrap around his hips to bring him closer to allow him to push carefully inside her warm center. The two birds moaned at the new sensation when Damian’s body connected with hers fully.
 Damian watched Raven knit her brows together, but he couldn’t tell if that was from the pain when he had entered her. “Are you alright? Do you want me to—“
 “I’m fine. You can start moving. Please go slow.”
 Damian started to move forward with the push of his hips carefully against hers and his movement caused his purple-haired girlfriend to gasp at his actions and whispered out his name as he continued to push inside her with his hips.
 “Yes. Oh god. Yes. Just like that.” Raven moaned out in pleasure as she threw her head back against the couch. She grabbed a fist full of his dark hair as his lips dragged along the pulse of her throat. She closed her eyes when she felt his teeth lightly biting her and flinched at the pain. “Ouch.”
 “Are you alright, my beloved?” Damian asked her, leaning away from her neck to look at her worried expression. “Did I hurt you?”
 “It was unexpected. I wasn’t prepared for that.” Raven responded truthfully to him, nibbling her lower lip as she placed a hand over the spot of her neck that would soon be marked because of her green-eyed boyfriend. “Looks like my neck will have a mark tomorrow.”
 Damian frowned as he observed the spot where he had lightly bit her with his teeth and shrugged his shoulders. “You should wear it proudly.” He said with humor in his voice that made Raven rolled her eyes at him.
 “Can…you move again?” Raven asked in a small voice, reaching up to brush her nose against his. “Perhaps faster?”
 Damian widens his eyes at her question. “Are you sure?”
 Raven scoffed at him as she pushed up her hips with his, causing Damian to hiss through grounded teeth. “Does that answer your question?” she asked with a smirk on her face as she rolled her hips again.
 Damian let out a curse in his native tongue as he did what Raven had asked and pushed forward and soon after had picked up a fast quick pace which caused her to moan out his name over and over in pure pleasure. He grunted when Raven pushed her hips with his to follow his rhythm. “Raven…” he muttered, leaning down to bury his face against her neck. “This feels…”
 “Good? Amazing? Fantastic?” Raven suggested in between moans as he continued to thrust inside her at a fast pace. “Oh god. Yes. There. Right there!”
 “All the above my love.” Damian told her. He could feel himself getting into a breaking point the more he buried himself inside of her warm, wet center. “Raven, I am getting close.” He warned her.
 “Me too.” Raven said breathlessly. She could feel herself clenching around him when Damian rolled his hips once more. She grabbed his shoulders tightly with her hands. “Damian!”
 Damian muttered a line of curses in a hushed whisper as the two of them come together moments later. He leaned down on Raven’s breasts as he catches his breath before rolling off of her to throw away the condom at a nearby trashcan at the corner of the library. He smiled at her when he stole a glance at her bare body as she leaned forward to gather her dress and undergarments that was on the floor.
 Raven cocked her head to the side as she put her bra and underwear back on. “Why are you smiling Damian?”
 Damian shrugged his shoulders after putting back on his pants and shirt and walked back over to the couch to help Raven zip up her dress carefully with his hands. “What we did back there was—” he could feel his face getting warm when his mind started to replay what happened and he nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “divine.”
 “That’s one word to describe what we just did.” Raven told him, smiling shyly at him and cleared her throat as she twiddled her fingers. “What’s going to happen now between us?”
 Damian got up from his spot on the couch to walk over to one of the bookshelves and grabbed a random thriller novel by Paula Hawkins that his older sister Stephanie Brown likes to read in her spear time. “We go back to what we were doing before. That was my original intention after all.”
 “I’m sure it was.” Raven said with a snort.
    Raven left an hour later, leaving Damian and Titus alone in the manor once more. He sat causally on his bed leaning against the headboard while cleaning his katana with the Great Dane at the edge of the bed. He sighed when he heard the familiar footsteps that had belonged to his older brother Dick who knocked on the open door frame. “How was your evening little D?” he asked, leaning against it with smirk on his face.
 “It was rather satisfactory Grayson. What about yours?” Damian asked, not looking up from his sword.
 The older hero hummed at his little brother’s response and watched him clean his sword. “Did you end up inviting Raven over?” Dick asked the young adult bird, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. He didn’t miss the way Damian stopped cleaning his sword for a brief second before resuming to clean it and it made him chuckle. “What did you guys do?”
 “I showed her the library.”
 That caught Dick’s interest. “Really? What did you guys do at the library?” he asked innocently.
 “We looked  at different books Grayson. Why else would we be in the library?” Damian asked in annoyance, looking at the older man with narrowed emeralds. “I took your advice and had invited her over. There’s nothing else to know.”
 Dick sighed and shook his head, knowing that Damian won’t tell him anything else, so he decided to try something else. “Okay, okay. Geez,” he said with a roll of his sapphire eyes. “Just as long as you two had used protection all is well!” he yelled quickly, running away from a batarang that was aiming for his head.
 “You better sleep with one eye open, Grayson!”
AN: Alright, I am all done haha! What did you guys think? You know, I love fics that has the sibling relationship with Dick and Damian in it its so funny between them lol. Anyways, please let me know what you guys think of it!! :)
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monsoonblooms12 · 3 years
Text
Eumoiriety (Ethan x f!MC)
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Summary: Four Years of Pooja Sharma's Birthday, from her first year as an Intern to her first year as an Attending.
Eumoiriety: Happiness due to state of innocence and purity💕
A/N: It's my baby's birthday and I went overboard. This is purely self indulgent and since I have zero to negative self control, this turned out way longer than I expected it to. Anyway, I hope you still like it💙
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X f!MC (Pooja Sharma)
Word Count: around 3.7K (I am sorry!)
Rating: General
Category: A bit angst, A bit fluff
Warnings: None that I saw.
Prompts: @choicesaugustchallenge Day 29 - Birthday
READ ON AO3
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Intern Year:
She walks barefoot on the green floor as the dews clinging to grass tips, soothe her like the cold breeze on a summer day.
A few golden rays filter through the canopy that acts as a barrier to the shining sun overhead. When they fall on the grass, the view looks like gold intermixed with emerald.
She wears a white gown, which flutters behind her, as her heart dances with the bees going flower to flower to get their prize of nectar in return for their favour of pollinating them.
There is a calm spreading through her soul, an ease, a slow infusion of tranquillity with her heart beats.
A swish makes her turn. Her eyes capture a silhouette, drifting farther and farther, as if taking her calm along with it.
It's replaced by restlessness.
There is a cajole, a whispered cajole, that urges her feet to run, her mind to think, her heart to wonder.
She follows. One step, and another.
The scene changes.
There are no more trees, no more green with the sun's shine.
At a distance, the waves crash on the sandy shore, their meet with their shore echoing in the silent surroundings.
She looks around and sees it.
The silhouette, now apparent that it was a man, standing with his back to her. He looks unbothered. As if he stole her peace and gave her his unrest in return.
She tries to walk slowly towards, footsteps imprinting on the sand, but the distance never seems to lessen or end.
She tries running, but to no avail.
The waves continue crashing, the footprints continue to get imprinted and the man continues to remain still and silent.
The only change has been in the sky, which is now leaden, dark with humongous clouds.
The thunder begins to cackle.
Once, Twice, Thrice.
She closes her ears with her hands, eyes shut to reduce the impact of the thunderous noise reverberating through every single one of her bones. But the roar keeps getting louder and louder until...
Her eyes snap open, but the echo from her sweven doesn't leave her. She turns around to find her phone ringing, straining her eyes with incredulous bright light (that she forgot to dim). The caller ID is barely registered, but the voice gives away the identity.
It's her sister.
With a flash, all the haze from the peculiar dream gets lost and bubbly happiness takes up the emptied space.
It's their birthday.
The first one since she came here. She had been so busy unknotting the twisted knots of circumstances in which she found herself tangled, that she had forgotten about the once unforgettable occasion of her life.
Maybe she has really lost that childhood she held on so tightly to, she thinks.
But not without a hope. Of a chance to get it back.
Maybe differently.
But the want to relive those carefree days, where the colour of pens you get as gifts, and the decision of who gets the piece of cake with the chocolate masterpiece on it were the only things that held importance. All other worldly, societal woes were secondary, trivial, uncared for.
She wishes her sister and she wishes her back.
3..2..1.. Happy Birthday! To Us!
They scream-whisper together, carrying on the years' long tradition.
The only thing different? They were on their cellulars, ecospheres apart, instead of snuggling and shouting together, and annoying their brother for an entire day.
Subconsciously, a tee-hee escapes her. Thinking about her brother, she takes a look at the clock. Correct 12:03 am on 12th August. If she knows him, he is probably counting the seconds.
At 12:05 am to the dot, another shrill echoes through the silent apartment. Her guess is correct.
On the other side of the screen, sits Idhayan arranging the cake so that Pooja can see the eloquent buttercream designs he has hand made on it.
In the background, there is a blurry motion. It turns out to be Alekhya.
She jumps onto the couch beside their brother, putting an end to his steady concentration.
He makes an irritated face, while she laughs.
And Pooja just watches, giggling alone.
The pang in her chest reminds her, once & once more, about just how much she misses them.
How empty, monochromatic her life is, with all these miles between them.
For the past year, every time any event took a turn for the worse, broke her, or hurt her, she wanted to go back to her safe haven.
The place where the chronicles of her life begun.
Many times, she had found herself convinced (by others as well as her self doubting mind) that she didn't belong here. That she didn't have the calibre, the skills to strive in this fight of dogs, in this race of horses where she felt like a donkey.
Or maybe a snail.
She dreamed of sleeping in her mother's lap when she first found herself in the crossroads of feelings and reason. Making her muddled head clear with words that never crossed the barrier between dream and reality.
When Mrs Martinez died, she imagined herself sitting on the swing, her brother's comfort brownies reduced to messy crumbs, as she let the mountain winds take away the burden of dread that pressed upon her heart.
And the day when Landry's backstab became eminent? She visualized her sister ripping him down, shredding him with knives of words because that's what he deserved.
She knew her father would have made them both coffee like he always did when he came home during breaks from piloting. He would have said a mere few words, which would have been enough for her to see the path ahead.
The mini virtual celebration ends, and the silence settles again. Tendrils of sleep come and go, but never stay.
She is left alone with her thoughts and worries, and a fear of the unknown which is hidden by the curtains of the future.
--------
The day passes like a swift blowing wind in a desert.
It's quiet, too quiet.
And probably for the first time in her life, she adores it. To be away from the hustle of a celebration, which would have been a noise in the cacophony, given the situation.
To get a period of silence for her thoughts to drift away, to think about the unknown, to predict a make or break.
The pages are turned swiftly by her fingers, one of which is clad with a minimal gold ring, another old ritual of hers.
The library harbours the overworked interns, who are now pushing the boundaries of time to find a way to help their friend out.
Their tired eyes pain with the lack of sleep, coffee fuelling through their veins, and mind engrossed in picking up any clue, any line, any tip that could be supportive for them.
Hours pass, no-one utters a word. Pens run on empty notebooks, hands managing to create only messy scribbles. Black and Blue fill the white as if it never existed.
The clock strikes the end hour.
They all get up.
They go home together, for discussions and relaxation.
At the doorstep, everyone enters before her, while she stands still, too engulfed in worries to notice the happenings.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
Confetti pops, her reverie is broken.
The smile shines like a jewel in a priceless necklace.
The arrangements are minimal, just champagne, cake and friends, but that's more than enough for her. To make her forget the dark fog of pessimism.
Maybe there is hope left.
-------
Second Year:
12th August.
The day that is drifting closer by the minute.
It has always been Alekhya's birthday for her.
On her phone, In her diary, In her mind.
People might regard it as a beautiful flaw of her nature, the flaw of always placing others before herself.
But to her, the instinct seemed natural, obvious. She had never delved into the whys, and she doesn't want to begin now.
For Alekhya, the circumstances became vice-versa.
And this was the beauty of their bond.
Strong, Pure and Selfless.
They never seem to realize that, though.
They hold onto the strings of simplicity, of sweet uncomplexity. And that is what helps them to bridge the gap between siblings and best friends.
After the tumultuous year, that very much resembled the completion of a voyage through the rough Indian Ocean, where storms ravage through days and endless nights, thunders crack, and waves that scale the heights between the ocean and sky to become mountains of water, crash on the feeble pieces of wood barely held together in the form of a boat, coming back to her origin, her hometown is a necessity.
Especially for her to find that normalcy again.
She survived.
Even though she fell, almost drowned, gasped for a breath more times she could count and nearly accepted her fate.
Until that is, the pale faces of the ones she holds close, the endless stream of tears that scale their cheeks, their breaking hearts, came to haunt her in her reverie and prevented her from closing her eyes & from letting that almost undetectable beat of heart stop.
The wishes from last year come back to her. This time, it wasn't virtual anymore. This time, it wasn't just painted in pixels, but written in buttercream letters, one which she could taste.
This time, the hugs weren't just virtual. They were very real, and very needed.
As she sits amidst the bushes of phenomenal florals, she lets her mind project in vivid colours, the extremities of the last year.
Her heart, breaking into tiny glass pieces, not perceived by the eye but sharp enough to draw blood.
The fear of losing and letting so many others lose along.
The coming close and going away, almost kisses and slide of unassuming hands, those which could easily be perceived as a mistake, but were anything but.
Competing in a nameless competition and almost dying in the process.
Getting the lost love back. Slowly, Gradually. (even if it felt too early to call it that)
And then... Her mind stops as the playful tunes start emanating out along with florescent light from the cellular, and the face of the one who has been a regular image of the thoughts that lull her to sleep.
On the other side, his voice is soft.
She can visualize him in the Diagnostics Office, leaning back on his chair.
Most probably on a break.
The new day hasn't even started for him, yet he remembers that it has, for her.
Their talks are interspersed with comfortable silence. For them, just the knowledge that the person on the other side is still there with them is enough.
All through the conversation, she waits.
In a hope that the irrelevant and unimportant date is written in faded letters somewhere in that brilliant mind of his.
As the line approaches its end, talks slowly halt, she feels a faint pang of sadness.
Maybe he doesn't remember it after all.
She bids her farewell, and as his finger hovers close to the end call button, she hears it.
Crystal Clear but still seeming unreal.
Happy Birthday, Pooja.
Her thanks are intermixed with a light giggle, unable to hold back the pleasure that erupts within her, along with the flutter called butterflies in her stomach.
Maybe there is always hope left, after all.
-------
Last year of Residence:
There have been countless moments when she has asked the time to wait, to slow its rushing footsteps that leave no mark behind.
Sometimes it's a beg, while in other vespertine hours, it's a mindless murmur.
This moment is one of them.
When a handful of sand is slowly released on a windy day, the swooshes and swishes carry them away, farther and farther, leave them with no choice but to fly along.
The minutes were being carried away by the same current, where they had no choice but to pass.
No one had the power to hold it, not even the mighties, the richest, the most supreme.
The conditions now extensively mimic the conditions during her first year.
Just this time, it was textbooks on internal medicine and medical procedure instead of ethics.
The wishes that day are hushed, the minimal party comprising of cupcakes and mug cakes and the gang, christened "The Invincibles" after they successfully tackle one hurdle and another but remain strong and together, in their PJs.
It must be one of the first nights since who knows how long when they spent their time doing an activity that doesn't involve colour coded tabs and complicated biological drawings.
And even though some of them make faux complaints about the wasted time, they all needed this break more than they could express.
The morning sun rays filter through the white curtains guarding the windows way too fast, making them unable to pinpoint the exact moment when the black of the night ceased to exist, when the sky became melanocrysus and when the golden took over the entire stretch.
A single text message pushes her to drop the blanket of laziness, the cocoon she inhabited. Getting up and placing a smile has never been as easy as it was now.
Come Over
------
The condo is inhabited by a stark silence when she reaches there.
She knocks. The click of the doorknob on the other side is almost instantaneous.
His hand wraps around her waist like a reflex deeply etched in his encephalon. For the first time in forever, their kisses are not chaste. Or momentary.
When he whispers a happy birthday wish against her forehead, that's what she would call intimacy.
The purity of the action touches her heart and makes it swell, with an emotion that she predicts will not remain unnamed any longer.
-------
First-year as an attending:
The celebratory vibes are in the air today.
Her stride is confident, heels playing a mellow harmony on the shining floors.
No one doesn't recognize her.
The intern who nearly lost her license to the Head of Diagnostics team, it was a journey that had thrown her off-road a million times.
Sometimes the barriers were pinpricks leaving no marks, and sometimes they were boulders crushing her.
And sometimes, one of these on-lookers would tear down her faith by stabbing her from the back, the cowardice of their soul, being mirrored in the blades of those knives of betrayal.
And yet she stands strong, her resolve unperturbed, as she faces the demons, those of others and those of her own.
It's a fight she has been learning to fight since she was eleven.
To curtain her tears with a glow in eyes, to hide the broken heart behind pretty lies. And just like practice makes one perfect, she has almost perfected the art of having to hide the real her inside.
As she passes the numerous congregations, amalgamations of patients and staff, she is greeted by wishes from old acquaintances whose kindness is apparent in their smile and by wishes of employed enemies, whose disinterest or sometimes blatant hate is too, completely apparent in their voice.
But they are not the ones she is worried about.
Interspersed between these two extremities are people who speak kind and in flattery lines with a sword behind their back.
Those who know how to hide their true intentions in the modulations of voice.
Every time she hears a wish where nothing is apparent, her heart stops for a while.
Strings of thought muddle her head and she tries to figure out the reality behind their words.
Sometimes she succeeds, sometimes she fails.
And sometimes she faces vehement opposition of her tired nerves who ask her to stop caring about those who are passing by.
But she never stops.
Her legs carry her to the Diagnostics office.
Her Office.
The swell of pride, of a fulfilment she last felt when she got into Edenbrook, make her head light.
She tries to stop but gives up the efforts soon.
If she has realized something through the twists of lawsuits and turns of almost dying, it is that if you keep waiting for the turns of the clock to approach a "right moment" for a chance to celebrate, you will probably keep waiting your entire life until your breath is being taken away and all that is left are regrets and missed opportunities of happiness.
So she twirls like a princess in her imaginary ball gown, beaming with satisfaction, and taking pride in giving herself the give of success.
Of making her loved ones and herself proud.
She gets so carried away in the train of thoughts, in which one bougie is connected by another, and one more, that she doesn't notice the person who preoccupies the room.
The halt is so sudden, that she almost tumbles upon the man. Almost.
She manages to get hold of herself, her hand on his back.
He turns, eyes meet.
If someone would have asked her what is cosmic, she would have said "The melt of glowing ambers into ice blue." Sure, she has looked into them more times than she can count or recollect. But every time their orbs meet, the reactions the action produces, she can only give the word seraphic to it.
When Ethan left for Amazon, she would often wonder why is she still keeping the lamp of hope alive. His absquatulation broke her, acted like a spark to her over-thinking mind. She would lie on her bed, eyes tracing the same lines on the ceiling above her over and over again, thinking just what she did wrong. She never reached the end of the path though, never really achieved the answer, even after meandering through a hundred courses of thoughts.
But now, she thanks her old self for living through it all. For not letting that lamp extinguish. For keeping it safe in a little corner of the labyrinths of her heart. Wordlessly, she hugs him, the plethora of emotions becoming quite too much to be expressed in minute syllables.
His whisper next to her ears, the innocently simplistic words induce a shiver in her spine.
But the last word.
4 letters, 1 word.
It hangs in the air like a diamond necklace around a maiden's neck. Like a tiny pendant that shines brighter than all elaborate jewels, all lengthy anecdotes.
It's enough, more than enough for her.
And as their smiles slowly spread like the slow rise of the golden sun, gently letting the rays spread through the humble earth. And those smiles, they shine together, brighter than the Sirius.
Happy Birthday, Love.
-------
Her casual gown, bearing floral patterns, flutters along with the soft grass, she feels a sense of wonder. Whether at the shimmering moon, the stardust spread through the stretch in the woods, or at the simplicity of her surroundings, she does not know.
Her unassuming footsteps walk slow, observant of her surroundings. After walking down the trail, she stops at the clearance.
At a distance, something shines under the silver moonbeams. Her mind beckons her to return back, but her intuition asks her to move on. She listens to the latter's plea.
A small cuboidal box and a bunch of white tulips lay peacefully out of place. She usually would have left it, just in case it was a trap.
But this time curiosity overtook reason and she picks the bouquet up. A small note amidst her favourite flowers.
I love you
No name. No initials. But she knew exactly who had written it. Not because he was the one who asked her to come here, in the heaven hidden amidst the chaos, but because those flourishes of his fanciful lettering would never escape her notice. Even if the only source of luminance was distant fairy lights on trees and the faint moonbeams.
Her eyes travel away from the articles. At a distance, the silhouette stands. The same silhouette from her sweven. But this time, there is no restlessness, no rush, no tension in the air. No thunder cackles and no waves crash. This time the silhouette waits for her, unlike the last time when it was her waiting for him.
He turns, only the shine of his orbs visible. And the shadow of the gorgeous smile that dances on his lips. The last time, his stone mask was too heavy, too powerful for any of them to break or move.
But this time? This time, the mask has fallen off, it has met the end of its existence.
He comes closer, the shadow now a clear image. He goes and picks up the cuboid and hands it to her.
"Open it" He whispers in a soft voice, that disappears as soon as it appears.
She takes it and opens it, as per his words. Everything is perfect and normal.
Except for the space in the middle.
Something sparkles, in silver lustre. Her first instinct is, Diamond? She decided to pick it up
It's a key.
She looks up to him, bewildered. Is it what she thinks it is?
Move-in with me?
She places the box of chocolates down, the key held tight in her fist.
And then she kisses him.
She doesn't have to speak a word, but he understands. After all, why would two intertwined hearts need verbal responses to know what the other one feels?
Only his home, can fill the brick walls of his house with love, and make it a home.
------
They both lay side by side on the lush grass, hands intertwined, hearts beating in unison, silence filling their souls like air fills their lungs.
They look at the stars and the moon. Or more appropriately, the gaze at the starry screen, but the mind plays significant moments from their time together.
Pooja's mind however thinks about the four of her birthdays since she set foot in Boston. The mundane softness of them, contrasting all the birthdays she has had in the rest of her years.
The photo frame of the interns from the first year. The group video call, her life from the second year. The PJ party from the third year. And the key from the fourth.
They are puzzle pieces of the saga of her life, the absence of friends from early years, the gap, the void now filled.
And after years of searching, she thinks she has finally found it. Hidden in the normality, the simplicity, the mundanity of life.
Happiness.
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PS: If you are reading this, I am very grateful for you. Thank you for reading and I hope you have a great day🤎
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The Last Dragon | The Witcher & Game of Thrones
Chapter 12 | The Law of Surprise
Summary: Visenya Targaryen is the eldest and only surviving child of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell. When Robert Baratheon’s rebellion was won, instead of being slaughtered by the Mountain like her mother and siblings, she was saved by Ned Stark and taken as his ward. Years later, after she’s killed at the Red Wedding, she wakes up outside Blaviken. Now she finds her destiny intertwined with the White Wolf on her quest to go back home.
Word Count: 4600
Note: Click here to read the previous chapters ♡  Oh boy did this one take a reallllllyyyy long time for me to write. I hope it’s worth it!  🤍
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“Stop,” the Queen yells, but the room doesn’t pay her any mind, only Geralt stays his blade. 
“Stop!” she yells, louder than before. This time, all sound and movement in the room seize. Weapons clang against the floor, screams of rage and pain silence, no one in the room daring to move. Visenya lies on the ground, breathing so loudly she fears the entirety of the room can hear each shallow breath, yet her heart pounds too heavily for her to care. Shaky and pale hands touch the cold marble floor, using her remaining strength to pull her body into a sitting position. Jaskier places his hands - that are nearly as shaky as Visenya’s - on her back helping her slowly stand as she leans the majority of her weight against him. 
Everyone stares at Geralt and Queen Calanthe, with bated breath and wide eyes, waiting for either of them to make a move. Instead, it’s Princess Pavetta who makes the first move. She pushes her chair back, dashing down the steps, and towards the knight, the chaos is centered around.
“Duny!” her sugar-sweet voice calls out, distress evident with every crack in her words. She closes the distance between them, throwing her arms around his body. He returns her embrace, lifting her off the ground and swinging her around before gently setting her shaking form down. “I told you to stay away,” she says, glistening tears falling onto cheeks that are flushed red, as she cradles his face with her hands. 
Queen Calanthe’s eyes are glued on the two of them, watching as her daughter searches for any injuries on Duny. Calanthe’s eyes are wide and mouth agape, as her sword slowly lowers, but still rests firmly in her grasp. She moves around the two of them, heels echoing around the Main Hall. Pavetta and Duny look away from each other, Duny stepping away from Pavetta, kneeling before Queen Calanthe as he slowly sets down his makeshift weapon, only to stand moments later. 
“Your Majesty… the Witcher speaks the truth. I was cursed as a young boy. My whole life was spent living in misery until the day that I saved your husband, King Roegner, from certain death. By tradition, I chose the Law of Surprise as payment. Whatever windfall he came home to find… would be mine,” he says, looking down towards the ground at the end of his statement. 
Visenya watches with sharp eyes, no longer feeling delirious from blood loss, her strength slowly returning. The Queen’s face contorts into disgust, eyes giving away all thoughts and opinions she holds for her late husband. 
“Oh, the stupid bastard. Better you had let him die!” she spits out, each word as venomous as a Dornish viper. 
‘You knew he’d come, and you pushed me to kill him,” Geralt says, inserting himself into the conversation. His face is set in a grim scowl, clearly unhappy with the Queen trying to use him as a pawn. However, she ignores him, gaze solely focusing on her daughter now. Visenya pushes away from Jaskier, slowly stepping towards Geralt. Jaskier reaches his hand out, trying to catch her before she can get too far away, but she slips from his grasp like water.
“And you… carousing with the beast that swindled your stupid father!” Queen Calanthe exclaims, pointing an accusing finger at Pavetta, who shies away from her mother’s anger. Visenya feels her temper flare-up, the bitter words too similar to all the times Catelyn would berate and scold her when she stood too close to Jon. But she inhales deeply, forcing the fire out of her veins. 
‘There’s already enough blood on my hands.’ 
“Tis no swindle. Asking for payment with the Law of Surprise is as old as mankind itself,” Lord Eist speaks up, moving closer towards the small cluster of people. 
Pavetta moves towards Duny, grabbing his hand in her own, standing side by side with him. Her head is held high, with a challenging glint in her eyes. And for the first time that night, she finally looks like a proud lioness, instead of the scared pup she played all night long. Despite knowing nothing about the woman, Visenya feels pride burning in her as she watches the small act of defiance. 
“Don’t lecture me, Eist,” Calanthe says, pinning a harsh glare towards him. 
“It’s an honest gamble. As likely to be rewarded with a bumper crop as a newborn pup. Or… a child of surprise. He could not know. Destiny has determined the surprise be Pavetta,” Eist continues, unbothered by Calanthe’s angry demeanor. 
“When I heard that King Roegner had returned to find a child on the way… I abandoned all thought of claiming the Law of Surprise. I knew…. I knew no woman would ever accept me like this,” Duny says, he then turns his head facing Pavetta. “And so I waited. I waited until the twelfth bell when the curse broke. I never intended to meet her. Just to watch from afar,”
“Until destiny intervened...and our hearts collided,” Pavetta interrupts, a small smile on her lips as she holds his face in her hands once again, staring into his eyes. A small smile tugs on the corner of her lips as she watches him with wide glistening eyes. 
 “And at dawn, I awoke with her in my arms and me… like this,” Duny says.
“Who are we to challenge destiny? A life was saved, a debt must be paid or the whole order of the world falls apart.” Eist pleads, stepping closer to Calanthe.
“Honor destiny’s wish, or unleash its wrath upon us,” Mousesack says.
“There is no us,” Calanthe spits. “I bow to no law made by men who never bore a child. Is there not a man before you who does not cower before destiny?” Queen Calanthe shouts, eyes passing over every person in the room, a challenge burning in her eyes. Her eyes land on Visenya, focusing on her for a moment. Visenya doesn’t waver, simply raising a single brow and raising her chin, a silent show of defiance. Only a lion could believe themselves above fate and the Gods. At least Westeros and this world have that in common. The queen scowls, but then her eyes rest on Geralt. 
“You Witcher, who has known monsters of every fang and claw, are you afraid too?” she asks. Her tone is mocking, the scowl on Visenya’s face deepening. 
“No,” Geralt says, his gruff voice a stark contrast to Calanthe’s smooth one. Visenya turns to look at Geralt, unsurprised by his lack of faith. “I’ve seen mother’s lash themselves raw over the death of a child, believing they crossed destiny, ignoring the stench of the fifty other children in plague carts outside. Destiny helps people believe there’s an order to this horse shit: there isn’t. But a promise made must be honored. That’s true for a commoner as it is a queen.” Geralt says. 
Pavetta touches Duny’s face, causing him to turn and face her. “I love Duny mother, I will marry him. I will finally be free,” she exclaims, unbridled happiness overflowing in each word she speaks as her eyes stay locked on Duny.
The words sting Visenya, another parallel of what Visenya could’ve had if she’d only been brave enough to chase it; brave enough to demand Jon be with her and demand Lord Stark to allow it. But the feeling fades as quickly as it came. 
‘There’s no sense in regretting what can’t be changed.’ Visenya berates herself. 
Calanthe watches the two of them, her stone façade beginning to crack and crumble away. Her harsh and austere eyes grow glossy with tears. Her sword arm grows limp, Eist slowly pulling the blade out of her hand, and she allows him to render her unarmed. Slowly she holds a hand out and Duny grabs it. She leans forward to whisper something into his ears. She pulls back, a small smile on her face.
But Visenya isn’t convinced by the serene façade. Only moments ago, Calanthe was willing to tear apart the world if it kept Pavetta from Duny. A pep talk from Geralt about honor can’t change that type of stubbornness. 
 But then she reaches into her side, pulling a dagger from its sheath, blade pointing towards Duny’s neck. Horror paints itself onto Pavetta’s face as Calanthe pulls her dagger farther back and then forward, moments away from stabbing - and killing - Duny.
“No!” Pavetta screams as if she holds the power of ten banshees. It’s sharp, cutting through the room, leaving a painful ringing in the ears of everyone in the room. Glass begins to crack, spider webs forming in the tall windows in the Main Hall. Time moves in slow motion, almost stopping entirely, all the focus on Pavetta. A strong gust of wind explodes from Pavetta, pushing everyone within its grasp as far from her and Duny as physically possible. Glass shatters, hitting the floor and stabbing into unsuspecting victims. The furniture is blown to the ground and into the far corners of the room. Visenya yelps, her body hitting the wall, reopening the bloody wounds that Mousesack sealed with his magic only minutes ago. Her back digs into a particularly sharp corner, gritting her teeth as more pain ebbs through her body. The loud crack from the impact is quickly drowned by the scream. 
Strong winds swirl around Pavetta and Duny, slowly lifting their forms off the ground and into the air. Foreign words pour from her mouth, tone monotonous, and inhuman. Her emerald eyes bore into Duny, unwavering and unblinking. The words echo around the room and into Visenya’s ears, getting louder and louder with each word. The words, despite the chaos around them, lull Visenya into a sense of tranquility, her tense limbs slacking instantly, eyes fluttering shut as the words swirl in her head. They’re familiar and maternal, giving a similar feeling that her mother’s bedtime stories gave her. Or when Lady Catelyn would read to her when she was sick in bed, too weak to even open her eyes sometimes. 
It sounds like home, but it leaves behind a sharp feeling, like a paper cut that never healed right.
It’s intoxicating, yet invasive all the same, the feeling that someone can see into the deepest parts of her mind. The hairs on the back of her neck stand stiff, leaving a tingling sensation all over her body in its wake.
The words nearly take physical form in the darkness of her mind.  
And then the blackness ignites, the worlds beginning to fade.
Suddenly she’s no longer in the Main Hall, devastated by the tumultuous magic of a distressed princess. Instead of stone walls and marble floors, there’s an open field, a roaring fire consuming it, encasing her body like armor. It dances around her limbs, licking her skin, but never leaving a burn. Left then right, there’s nothing but fire. She moves forward, stepping with bare feet on rocky terrain, and despite sharp ends piercing into her feet, she doesn’t stop, doesn’t even blink. Then, she pauses, so still, she doesn’t even breathe. The fire crackles, louder this time, thundering in her ear with the ferocity of a calvary ten thousand strong charging into battle. She inhales, sharply, watching with bated breath for...something to happen.
And then her heart stops, brain freezing like an ice statue.  
Screech.
The noise is small and breathy, not nearly as terrifying as she instinctively knows it will become. Before her eyes, Visenya watches as a large egg continues to crack, the burnt orange shell melting into the flames. A reptilian face is the first to break through the hardened shell, shimmering red eyes glimmering in the light, then one wing, followed by the other until it’s full body is free. It’s gold scales shimmer in the fire, nearly mimicking Visenya’s own eyes. She smiles, letting out a choked laugh like her throat is full of ash from the flames that dance around her. 
Screech.
It roars again, batting it’s small bat-like wings as it steps out of the shell that encased it for so long. She moves towards it, but with each step, the dragon seems to get farther away until she can hardly see it. But she can hear it, Gods can she hear the dragon roar, each one louder and more terrifying than the last. The noise rumbles the ground beneath her, shaking her to the very core, but filling her with child-like wonder. She tries to run, hoping a faster pace will close the distance, eager to feel its scales beneath her fingers. Would they be smooth or rough? Soft like skin or coarse like salt? 
The scene dissipates, leaving her in darkness once again. She stays this way, for seconds, minutes, hours: who could tell? But then she opens her eyes, and instead of a burning field, she’s back in the Main Hall, chaos still reigning in the room. Pavetta and Duny are higher this time as she continues to chant the same eerie words over and over. 
Visenya glances to her right, watching Geralt slowly stand from the floor, fighting against the strong wind storm. He moves towards the two and thrusts two fingers forward. A burst of arcane force leaves his fingertips, causing Pavetta’s head to whip around, eyes focusing on Geralt instead of Duny. She lets out a yelp, ending the spell that holds everyone in the room hostage. Duny and her plummet to the hard ground, the wind dissipating as quickly as it appeared. 
Visenya breathes out a heavy sigh, slowly standing from her position against the wall. Queen Calanthe wastes no time, rushing towards Pavetta who is slowly standing from the ground, harsh bruises blossoming all over her delicate body. Without a word, Calanthe wraps her arms around Pavetta, tightly holding her. A moment later she releases Pavetta, delicately cradling her face in her rough hands.
“I thought your grandmother’s gift had skipped you… as it did me. It seems I was wrong...about so many things,” she says with a softness Visenya hasn’t seen in the Queen all night. Pavetta smiles, and despite the messy state of her hair and clothes, Pavetta is still easily a shining gem of beauty in the room. 
Calanthe slowly lets go of Pavetta, moving to face the large crowd that gathered around them. Duny moves beside Pavetta, the both of them moving to face the crowd as well, Pavetta tightly holding Duny’s hand in one and Queen Calanthe’s with her other.
“Destiny has spoken! And I have listened. The Law of Surprise will be honored. Pavetta will marry… Lord Urcheon,” Calanthe declares, loud enough that even the ghosts of the Lords and guards that died tonight can hear her from the beyond. 
“React poorly and you won’t just face the Lioness, you will be facing the Sea Hounds of Skellige. Because Queen Calanthe has… agreed to my proposal of marriage.” Lord Eist speaks up, moving to stand on the other side of Calanthe, grasping her hand in his own. She looks over at him, a sly smirk on her face, but she doesn’t rebuke his notion.
“There will be two vows here tonight! I assume that’s agreeable?” Calanthe exclaims. Murmurs of agreement from nearly everyone fill the room, the majority of the room nodding as well. “Delightful,” the Queen relaxes her shoulders, a smile gracing her face.
o0o0o
All is quiet in the room, so silent each inhale and exhale echos in the room like a vicious scream. The lords and ladies stand in a large circle, each holding a lit candle. It’s surprisingly calm, despite the turmoil and chaos in the room only a short while ago. Duny and Pavetta are on the ground, kneeling before Queen Calanthe. Visenya is standing directly across from the Queen, with Jaskier to her right and Geralt on her left. The candle in her hand shakes ever so slightly, her arms weak and heavy, the adrenaline in her body completely gone, leaving her frail like Old Nan from Winterfell. 
The Queen’s handmaiden stands beside the Queen, back straight with a small bowl of bright blue paint in her hands that is outstretched towards Queen Calanthe. She takes a finger and presses it into the bowl, soaking it in the paint. She leans forward using the same hand to press a line on Pavetta’s head, and then does the same to Duny, a melancholic smile on her face. Her brown eyes are tired like she’s just finished fighting a thousand wars. And perhaps she has, mentally wrestling with the prospect of her daughter marrying the man she did not intend for her. 
The handmaiden then hands Queen Calanthe a velvet cloth that’s a rich blue with gold embroidery on it. Similar to the weddings the Southerners have in Westeros, she weaves the ribbon in between their hands, physically binding them together, just like their souls and hearts are now bound.
“With my blessing, I thee bind,” Calanthe says, her voice hardly above a whisper. She smiles at Pavetta again, this one wider and less sad. Pavetta and Duny slowly turn towards each other, wide grins permanently etched onto their faces. Slowly they lean towards each other, eager to seal the marriage with a kiss. 
Their lips meet for a brief second, but Duny quickly pulls away, a snarl similar to a wild animal escaping his mouth. And then again, followed by a ferocious snarl. He collapses to the floor, his body twisting and contorting in unnatural ways as the loud noises continue. Visenya glances towards Geralt, noticing his stiff posture, intent golden eyes watching the scene. Visenya’s hand ghosts over where her sword should be, the anxiety building in her when she feels nothing but air. 
Before she can scan the room for a weapon to make use of, the noise ceases. Duny lifts his head, but instead of being a beast, he has the head of a man; a very attractive man, He has a strong jaw, deep brown eyes, and matching thick hair that falls with a slight wave. He inhales sharply, shaking as he stares at his hand - his human hands. Pavetta stares at him in shock, wide eyes staring at her now human husband. Duny looks up, meeting her gaze. And like two magnets they immediately rush towards one another, though it lacks any grace due to their positions on the floor. They meet in an embrace, Pavetta’s hands caressing his face, a beaming smile on her fair face. They lean forward, capturing each other's lips in another kiss, this one more passionate than the previous, gasps of laughter pouring from Pavetta’s mouth in between each kiss. 
“The twelfth bell has not yet rung!” Pavetta says once they pull away from each other.
“What has happened?” Calanthe says, sounding as dazed as Visenya feels. 
“I think your blessing of this marriage has fulfilled a destiny,” Mousesack says, stepping forward from the circle. “The curse has been lifted.” 
“Whoo,” Jaskier exclaims, one hand touching his chest and the other wrapped around the noblewoman that stands beside him. “I think this has the makings of my best ballad yet,” he says, wiping a single tear from his eye, looking towards the lady in his arms. 
Visenya simply rolls her eyes, looking at Geralt with exasperation in her eyes. 
“If you’re alive in the morning,” Geralt’s gruff voice roughly cuts through the beautiful moment and turns to face Jaskier. “Don’t grope a trout in any peculiar rivers until dawn.” Geralt turns to swiftly exit the room. 
“Wait!” Duny exclaims, turning away from Pavetta to face the Witcher. “You saved my life. I must repay you.” Duny stands from his position on the ground, hand outstretched. Geralt stops and sighs, turning to face Duny. 
“You’ve proven yourself to be the kind of man who would do the same, I want nothing.” Geralt turns to leave again but is interrupted once again by Duny. 
“No please, please Geralt of Rivia, do not think you are doing me a service. I cannot start a new life in the shadow of a life debt.” Duny says, his lips tilting upwards, a gleam in his dark eyes. Geralt sighs once more, facing the Lord
“Fine I claim the tradition as you have, the Law of Surprise; give that which you already have but do not know,” Geralt says, the annoyance in his voice clear as day to Visenya. 
“No!” Calanthe exclaims, fear clear in her glossy brown eyes. “What have you done Witcher?”
“Do not worry Your Majesty. The next time I’m seen in your kingdom will be to kill a real monster, not claim a crop or a new pup. Destiny can go fu--”
Before Geralt can finish his sentence, Pavetta leans forward, vomiting all over the floor. Calanthe rushes to the other side of her daughter, leaning down to Pavetta’s level to look her in the eyes.
“Pavetta,” she takes a hold of her daughter's chin, gently cupping it as she stares at her. “Are you--?” She doesn’t finish her sentence, the words unable to leave her mouth. In perfect unison, Pavetta, Duny, and Queen Calanthe look towards Geralt. Visenya follows their lead, looking towards Geralt with wide eyes. Geralt looks around, heavily sighing.
“Fuck,” he says, and then quickly turns away, exiting the room before anyone can stop him. Mousesack follows after him while Duny turns back to Pavetta, helping her to her feet. The rest of the room suddenly becomes unfrozen, the circle breaking as Lords and Ladies begin to mingle about the eventful night. But Visenya’s eyes are stuck on Calanthe. The Queen feels Visenya's burning gaze, turning to meet it.
They continue to stare at each other, and in her glossy hazel eyes, Visenya swears she can see death and destruction swirling inside them, the desolation in the years to come. At that moment Visenya feels like Daenys the Dreamer, seeing the fall of a great kingdom that should be indestructible. But just as quickly as it’s there, it’s gone, Queen Calanthe breaking their gaze. 
She has no proof, no reason to believe Cintra would fall. Anytime Queen Calanthe’s name falls from the lips of anyone, it’s always mummers of praise at her prowess in battle, how fierce and deadly she is in the thick of combat. She has no reason to believe it, but yet, she can feel it deep in her bones.
Cintra is going to fall.
The Lions will fall as the Dragons did all those years ago.
“You should go, before he leaves you behind,” a voice breaks Visenya from her trance. Turning around, Mousesack is the one who spoke, standing behind her with a knowing glint in his eyes. Visenya cocks her head to the side. “Geralt, I mean.” 
“I suppose it’s either him or--” Visenya moves her eyes around the room, focusing on Jaskier and the giggling noblewoman. They’re incredibly close to each other, as he whispers something into her ear, causing another round of giggles to leave her mouth. “- that.” Visenya mutters, raising a brow. Mousesack simply laughs, shaking his head, amusement glinting in his eyes. 
“No wonder Geralt enjoys your company, you’re as dour as he is.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Visenya says, a small smile on her face as she faces Mousesack. “It was nice to meet you, Mousesack, perhaps our paths will cross again.” Visenya moves to walk past him to catch up with Geralt, but his hand grips her arm, stopping her in her tracks.
“Jane, I know this may not be my place to say, but I can sense immense primal power inside you, similar to what the Princess displayed,” he says, his voice hardly above a whisper.
“I don’t know what you--”
“I would be a fool to not notice the energy thrumming inside you, do not take me for a fool, Jane. Nevermind that I saw you burn a man with your bare hand,” he continues, unbothered by the way Visenya 's eyes bore into his face. 
“And what of it?” Visenya asks, straightening her posture and raising her chin slightly, like a wolf raising its hackles. 
“I also know you don’t have full control over it. Without proper training you will find yourself at the center of a situation like this, with a far worse outcome,” he says, unperturbed by Visenya's intimidation attempts. Flashes of a burning building and screaming flit through Visenya’s mind for a brief second. Her posture slackens, not by much, but enough for Mousesack to notice. 
“I suppose this is when you offer to be my teacher?” Visenya asks, sarcasm dripping from each word, a bitter laugh following shortly after. Her gold eyes narrow, lips pulled into a thin line. Mousesack chuckles, shaking his head, briefly looking away from Visenya, tracing the walls before his eyes flick back to her. 
“I’m afraid not, destiny has other plans for you, it would seem. Your place is with Geralt and whatever grand adventures you get wrapped into,” he says, mirth dancing in his eyes, visible even in the darkness of the hall. 
“Then it appears we are done here.” Visenya tries to maneuver past Mousesack, but his grip is tight, keeping Visenya in place. She turns back to him, eyes like hardened lava.
“If I might offer a piece of advice, find someone and let them help you control this power you have. But stay away from the Brotherhood, if you can. A mage outside of their grasp would be best.” Mousesack whispers, eyes staring deep into Visenya’s.
“Duly noted.” She moves to walk away again, and this time, Mousesack lets her. He releases her arm and watches as Visenya steps over the rubble and towards the exit. 
“May the gods watch over you, Visenya Targaryen,” Mousesack says. Visenya’s footsteps stop, posture as stiff as a board, the little hairs on the back of her neck standing up. Her heart pounds, blood filling her ears until she can’t hear anything. Like she’s been turned to stone, Visenya slowly turns around, a grim expression set on her face. But when she turns around, Mousesack has disappeared into the crowd of people. Gold eyes narrow, searching for Mousesack in the crowd for only a moment longer. 
She whirls around, eager to leave this castle and the kingdom behind. She swiftly walks through the hall, nodding at stragglers guests or guards as she passes them. It isn’t until she’s near the exit that she spots Geralt's stark white hair. The clothes Jaskier dressed him in are dirty and torn, pieces of rubble stuck in Geralt's disheveled hair.  
“Geralt!” she calls out, picking up her speed to close the distance between them. He turns around, eyes locking on her.
“Jane,” he simply says, watching as the distance between them closes until she’s standing in front of him. 
“Thought you could leave without me, did you?” she asks, a sly grin on her face. Geralt raises a brow, his lips pulling in a smirk that matches her own.
“I didn’t know you were joining me at all.”
“Well it’s either you or I stay with Jaskier and his new muse,” Visenya says, sarcasm oozing from her voice when she says muse. “And I don’t think it would be healthy to retch as much as I would be if I stayed with him.”
“So I’m your last resort?” Geralt asks, eyes glinting with mirth and just a hint of happiness.
“Of course, but don’t worry, I’ve had to put up with worse,” Visenya says. She pats Geralt on his chest as she passes him, moving towards the exit. 
o0o0o0o
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Keeping Secrets Ch. 34
Keeping Secrets Masterlist
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Pairing: past: DamonxOc, TylerxOc, ElijahxOc. Future: KlausxOc. Warnings: Smut-ish and a gif containing nudity towards the end.
Katie managed to mind her own business for a month. Her only friends at school were Rebekah, who talked her out of quitting cheer considering that during their routines was the only time Katie ever smiled anymore, and Caroline who had stopped ignoring her and talked to her like they used to despite keeping certain things to themselves. Klaus had been busy dodging attempts against his and Rebekah’s lives. Like Damon and Stefan killing Finn in an attempt to kill all the originals, but Klaus had made Bonnie un-link the siblings, so it didn’t work. It did, however, reveal that when an original is killed, every vampire they’ve turned along with anyone those vampires turned, died.
Even with everything going on, Klaus managed to find time to shoot her a random text here and there to check up on her. She always replied with, I’m fine, but he knew she wasn’t. Rebekah had also tried to talk Katie into going to the 20’s decade dance tonight, but Katie just didn’t think she could sit through a stupid dance without being completely miserable.
She was sitting at her kitchen table doing homework when she heard someone knock on the door. She didn’t answer, assuming it was Rebekah coming to try one more time to get her to go to the dance, whoever it was let themselves inside. “Rebekah I told you I’m not going to that stupid dance.” She sighed only to see Klaus when she looked up. He wore an off white tux, a blue and white tie and a yellow hankie in the pocket of his jacket. His hair was slightly gelled and parted on the side. If she was being completely honest she didn’t think it was his best look.
“Well she may have failed at getting you to go but she successfully talked me into it.” He informed her as her eyes took in the green dress with black sparkling beads all over it and tassels hanging off the short zig-zag hem line, knotted white beads, a green headband with peacock feathers on it and a pair of black satin gloves were looped over the hook of the hanger that hung off his long nimble index finger.
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“And she asked you to ask me to be your date?” Katie asked tiredly.
“Actually it was my idea.” He told her with a closed lipped smile. “You’ve been locking yourself in this house every day after school. You need to get out and have some fun.”
“I can assure you that a high school dance will not be fun.” She told him flatly. “Besides there’s like a seventy five percent chance that something is going to go incredibly wrong at that dance given the fact that since Damon and Stefan came to town our dances have been a hot spot for vampire, witch, werewolf activity.”
“If I’m going so are you.” he walked over, gently grabbed her arm and pulled her up from the chair with ease.
“I’ve told you once and I tell you again, I don’t take orders from you.” she told him as she took her arm out of his hand.
“Such defiant words from a woman with not even the slightest spark of fire in her eyes.” he told her as he cupped her chin in his big hand. “My brother extinguished you. I have every intention of setting you ablaze once again.” The look in his eyes sent a shiver through her spine that made her swallow hard and drop her eyes. When she looked back up at him he gave her a smirk and slipped his thumb over her cheek bone. “Now, go get dressed.” He lifted the dress up, but instead of taking it from him she cocked a brow at him and a smirk of her own tugged at the corner of her lips. He rolled his eyes. “Please.” She took the dress and went up stairs.
An hour later she came down stairs wearing the dress. Her hair was simply twisted and tucked at the back of her head to make her blond and red tresses appear short and the headband went across her forehead, the bundle of peacock feathers sat above her right ear. Simple eyeshadow let her red lips be the focal point of her face. “The shoes don’t really match, but they are the only black ones I own.” She motioned to the black heals she wore to homecoming.
“Trust me, Love, no one will be looking at your feet.” He told her, drinking her in as she walked over to him, the tassels brushing against her upper thighs as she did.
“Then tell me, what will they be looking at?” she asked, not breaking eye contact with him as she grabbed her keys and debit card off the table behind the couch that they were standing next to then put them in the black clutch in her hand along with her lipstick and makeup wipes.
His eyes moved down to her red lips then a little further taking in how the lines of black beads on the bust of the dress accented her curves before he looked back up at her eyes. “Lucky for you the women of the 1920’s were fairly modest when it came to the necklines of their dresses.”
“Yeah…lucky me.” She sighed then snapped the clutch shut. “Can we just get this over with?”
“If you do not at least attempt to have fun then going to this dance is pointless.” He told her and she just looked at him. “Smile.” The smallest smile pulled at the corner of her lips for a fleeting second. “You can do better than that.” She pulled her lips back showing off her teeth. “Are you silently growling at me, Love? Come on! Smile.” He told her in an up beat voice attempting to fire her up. She pursed her lips and pulled them to the side as she raised her brows at him. “Smile or I’ll find that ass hole classmate that hit on you at homecoming and break his spine like I originally wanted to.” Thinking about Klaus scaring the shit out of that sleazy guy brought a small smile to her face. “Not nearly good enough, but I’ll take it.”
“Can we go now?” she asked with a small genuine laugh and a motion to the door. He walked over to it and pulled it open for her.
TVDTVDTVD
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When they walked into the gym Caro Emerald’s “That Man” filled their ears while everyone danced to the upbeat song. “You would have liked the twenties.” Klaus told her as they walked into the crowd to find a place to dance. As they found a spot the song cut off and a slow song started. Klaus grabbed her hand and pulled her into him with his arm looped around her waist. “The girls were reckless, sexy…fun.” He pulled her closer and spun her around. “They literally used to dance until they dropped.”
“From exhaustion or blood loss?” Katie asked with a look up at him through her lashes.
“Answer me this.” He slid his hand down to the small of her back. “If you lived somewhere where vampires and their natural habits and impulses were not frowned upon and judged as harshly as the people in this town do. Would you not give in and indulge in all the things being a vampire could offer you? Would you not murder just for the fun of it?”
Katie thought back to her time in Nashville. Being away from Mystic Falls, where no one knew her or what she was…She had done some things that made her feel good in a bad way. She lured men into her hotel room, got them drunk, compelled them, fed on them, and while she didn’t sleep with anyone she did make out with one guy she was pretty sure was a model. When he grew inpatient and dipped his head into her line of view she looked at him. “Indulge? Most definitely, but there’s a line I don’t cross and I draw it long before murder comes into the picture.”
“You say that like you’ve had to draw that line before.” He observed.
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“Because I have.” She answered as she let go of his hand and placed both of hers on his neck as they danced. He slid his hands up her back holding her closer. “And it was fun.” He smiled before he realized they had been dancing for a while and Rebekah hadn’t made an appearance. “What?” she asked, watching him look around.
“Have you seen Rebekah?” he asked.
“No.” Katie answered looking around spotting Caroline and Tyler, Elena and Stefan, Bonnie and some guy she guess was her mother’s adopted son Jamie, who according to Caroline Bonnie liked. She didn’t see Rebekah anywhere. “She’s made it her goal to hijack this dance from Caroline. I’m sure she’ll be here soon.” Caroline noticed Katie and gave her a small smile then realized who Katie was dancing intimately with and gave her a questioning look. Katie realized then how close Klaus was holding her and the fact that she didn’t hate it. “I need some air.” She pushed him back and went outside intending on going to her car, but she slammed into an invisible wall a few feet outside the gym. “What the hell?” she asked looking down to see a line of salt. Her eyes followed it to see that it encircled the entire school.
“Esther’s back. We’re all trapped in here.” Stefan told her.
“Why won’t that bitch just stay dead?” She sighed.
“Rebekah, call me back immediately.” They heard Klaus say as he walked out of the gym. “I only came to this ridiculous dance because you begged me to and now you’re nowhere to be found.” He looked up to see her and Stefan. “Call me back.” he hung up and looked back and forth between Katie, Stefan and the salt line. “What is this?”
“Esther is back, again.” Katie answered. “We’re stuck in here.”
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The dance was called off and the human students were free to walk out of the salt ring. Bonnie tried to do a locator spell on Elena, but Esther fought her on it. Because she was channeling a hot spot, Klaus knew Esther was at the old cemetery where Klaus first killed her. Since none of them could leave, Matt and Jeremy went after Esther and Elena.
Katie sat in the cafeteria waiting for Esther to die again so she could leave when Klaus found her. “I should not have dragged you here tonight. You were right about this school's history of dances and trouble.” He told her as he sat down across from her.
“It’s fine. It might not have shown, but I was actually having fun.” He gave her a smile and she changed the subject. “I just hope Matt and Jeremy can stop your mother from doing whatever it is she’s trying to do.” She told him as she put her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. “We all know she wants you dead and if you die...Tyler along with whoever else is part of your sire line dies too.”
“I turned the vampire that turned the vampire who turned Katerina.” He told her as he stood up. “You are part of my sire line and I will not let you die.” he walked out.
Katie was still sitting there when Bonnie came in and told her that Esther wasn’t fighting her anymore and the barrier was down. “There’s something else you should know.” Bonnie told Katie as she walked past her ready to go home. “It’s about Alaric.” Katie stopped and turned back to her. “Ester turned him into an original vampire and he’s not going to complete the transition.” Katie felt tears pool in her eyes. “We’re all going to the cemetery to tell him goodbye, you should come with us.” Katie swiped her hand over her cheek, wiping away a tear that slipped, and nodded.
When she got to the cemetery she saw that practically everyone was there. Elena, Jeremy, Damon, Stefan, Caroline, Tyler, Matt, and some woman that Katie had never met before were all standing around outside the tomb Alaric was in. Alaric walked out of the tomb and took them all in with tears in his eyes. As his eyes landed on Katie, leaning on a statue beside Matt she couldn’t help walking over to him. He opened his arms for her and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “You’ll always be my favorite teacher.” She told him through her tears.
He laughed and pushed her back a little. “And you’ll always be my favorite and best student.” He told her as he wiped her tears with the back of one of his fingers.
“Good bye, Alaric.” She told him as she turned and walked away from everyone.
She didn’t know where she was going when she got into her car; she just knew she couldn’t go home yet. After thirty minutes of aimless driving she ended up at the Mikaelson mansion. Deciding that she ended up there for a reason she got out and let herself inside. “My survival will haunt you through Eternity.” She followed Klaus’ voice to find him looking down on his mother lying in a coffin. “You will never destroy me!” feeling her there he asked. “What do you want?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, I just…I was driving and I ended up here.” He turned and looked at her with angry eyes. "I’ll go.”
He noticed her reddened eyes and tear streaked cheeks. “Stay.” he told her quietly. So she walked into the room and around all the open empty coffins to the one Rebekah was in. A dagger was lying on the table at the head of her coffin. “So what exactly happened to her tonight?”
“My guess is my mother fooled all of us into thinking she was dead by taking over Rebekah’s body. When she no longer had a use for it she had someone dagger her so she could jump back into her original body.” He told her then walked out of the room full of coffins.
“I think I hate witches just as much as I hate this town.” Katie sighed as she followed him to the kitchen where he grabbed a bottle of alcohol and poured her a drink and one for himself.
“You forget, you wouldn’t be alive right now if your witch friend hadn’t linked you to Elijah.” He pointed at her with his hand that held his glass as she sat down in the barstool across from him and picked up the glass that he slid to her.
“Yeah, and look where that got me.” She commented with a motion around her.
“Sharing a drink with a friend?” he asked playing stupid.
“Stuck in a world of pain and misery. Of one disappointment after another…of lies and hollow words and meaningless promises. I don’t even know why I’m still in this town.” She told him then threw back the drink and pushed the glass across the bar to him.
“You’re still here because you’ve never lost sight of your true goal.” He told her as he poured her more and slid the glass back to her. “Graduation then med. school.”
“That’s the funny thing.” Katie pointed at him then dropped her hand to the bar and picked up her glass. “Elijah left me because he didn’t want me to die before I accomplished my dreams. Now I don’t see the point of it all. My dreams mean nothing if I have no one to share the victory of accomplishing them with.”
“I would argue that they mean more because you accomplished them all by yourself.” He told her then took a drink.
“How can you encourage me to be alone when you yourself can’t even stand the thought of it?” she asked then through back her drink and pushed it across the bar to him. “I mean, isn’t that why you want Elena alive? So you can use her blood to sire a back up family when your blood family fails you?” he set his drink on the bar and blinked at her. “I’m not judging, just sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong. I apologize.”
“Maybe you should slow down.” He pointed out not giving her a refill.
“I don’t want to slow down. I want to get so drunk that I can no longer feel my face much less the weight that is constantly sitting on my chest.” She told him as she hopped down off the stool, walked around the bar, grabbed the bottle and looked him in the eyes as she pressed the rim to her lips and took a large drink.
“You really think that’s a good idea?” he asked as he watched her move the bottle away from her wet lips then wipe her hand over them.
“Probably not.” She told him then turned her back on him and walked off, taking another drink as she did. He followed her to his studio where she started looking at the paintings on the wall. “I don’t know anything about art. So I’m just going to ask, how many of these did you do and how many are by famous artists?”
She took a drink as he walked over to stand next to her, “They are all mine.” He answered then took the bottle from her and took a drink. “The famous ones are scattered throughout the house.”
“Huh.” Was all she said as she turned around and walked over to the couch that sat in the middle of the room and sat down. "So why do you like to art?"
He walked over and sat down beside her, propping the bottle up on the arm of the couch. "Art, painting in particular, is a metaphor for control." He answered and she gave him a look that said, 'I'm interested, please keep talking'. He tried to pass her the bottle, but she surprised him when she waved him off. "Every choice is mine. The canvas...the color… As a child I had neither a sense of the world nor my place in it, but art taught me that one's vision can be achieved with sheer force of will. The same is true of life."
She felt the same way about her poetry, every word choice was up to her, a puzzle of her own creation. But she wasn't ready to tell him about that part of herself. So she kept the topic on art. "I had to take a couple of art classes in school, but our art teacher was a major pot head so we didn’t actually learn anything other than the ninja turtles are all named after famous artists. As long as we were quiet and did something even close to art we passed.”
“Please tell me you did not glue macaroni to a piece of paper and call it art.”
She laughed. “I’m not a three year old. I colored in an adult coloring book.” She told him with her chin held high and he smiled then closed his mouth deciding to keep his comments to himself. She laughed a little at his reaction. “I passed that’s all I cared about at the time.” She held her hand out for the bottle. He gave it to her and she took a drink then handed it back to him.
She pulled out her phone and unlocked it to see what time it was only for her eyes to land on the picture of her and Elijah after the ball. She couldn’t bring herself to change it yet. Her hand went to the infinity sign that still hung around her neck.
Knowing she was thinking about Elijah, Klaus plucked the unlocked phone out of her hand, took a picture of one of his more abstract paintings and made it her background. Now she didn’t see Elijah’s face every time she used her phone. He had sat back down on the couch and was handing it back to her when Rebekah came into the room. “What happened?” she asked with a tired look at the two of them.
“Excuse me for a minute, love.” Klaus told her then walked out of the room with Rebekah.
Katie wandered over to the table that had drawings scattered across it. Eventually she came across the one Klaus had drawn of her in her ball gown. She was looking at it when Klaus came back. “Why did you draw this?” she asked, holding up the picture as she turned to him.
“Because I find inspiration in beauty and it is no secret that I think you are beautiful.” He answered as he took the paper from her and set it back down on the table behind her. “And smart, relatable, strong, brave, honest, loyal, understanding, non-judgmental-”
“Stop.” She told him as she looked down at the floor. “Just…stop trying to make me feel better about myself when I know there has to be something fundamentally wrong with me.”
“Katie,” he stepped into her and hooked his finger under her chin, pushing her head up but she didn’t look at him. “Look at me, Sweetheart.” She lifted her eyes to his. “You…are a uniquely incredible woman.”
“If I’m so incredible why do I always end up alone?” she asked.
In that moment all he wanted to do was kiss her, take her to his room and show her just how perfect he thought she was, but he also knew that after everything she had been through in the past few months, despite the fact that she had flirted back with him tonight, her heart was hard as stone and it wouldn’t change anytime soon.
He sighed as he moved his hands to her hips and leaned down, his face just a few inches from hers. “I wish I could assure you that you are not alone and you never will be, but you do not need to be force fed any more lies.” She bit her lip to keep from crying and nodded. When he tilted his head slightly she thought he was going to kiss her, but instead, he pressed his lips to her cheek. “Goodnight, Katie.” He let her go and left her alone.
Not feeling like going home she grabbed the bottle of half drank alcohol and headed to the kitchen. Rebekah came in and found her eating a pint of strawberry ice cream she’d found in the freezer amongst other flavors she couldn’t stomach. “Sorry, I raided your stash.”
“It’s fine. I have plenty.” Rebekah told her as she grabbed a pint of buttered pecan then shut the fridge and grabbed a spoon. “I’m sure we could both use it after tonight.” she popped off the lid and threw it in the trash. “I’m sorry about your teacher. He seemed like a good guy.”
“He was. I’m sorry about your mom.” Katie answered as she played with the pink, slightly melted ice cream with her spoon.
“Are you staying here tonight?” Rebekah asked with a look at the clock.
Katie shrugged. “I don’t really feel like being alone in my house right now.”
“Well, you know where your room is at and I’m sure Nic won’t care if you stay.” Rebekah told her then started walking away, taking her ice cream up to her room. “Goodnight.”
“Night.” Katie called back. She grabbed the bottle of rum and took a drink then headed upstairs, grabbed a tank top and shorts and headed to the bathroom. After showering she laid down in bed and tried to go to sleep, but the way Klaus looked at her when he told her he intended on setting her ablaze, the feel of his hands on her while they danced, when he kissed her cheek after he killed Mikael, when he'd kissed her in this house before it had been renovated and when he kissed her cheek tonight filled her mind. The memories played in her head over and over until finally she sat up and brushed her fingers through her damp hair with an aggravated sigh.
She slipped out of bed and put on a satin robe then left the room and went out back to the garden that now had bright flowers where dead rose bushes had once been, taking a walk in the night air to clear her head. It worked for the most part, but on her way back to her room she noticed the light on in the parlor and her feet took on a mind of their own. They brought her to Klaus sitting on the couch, a sketch pad in his hand.
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“You couldn’t sleep either?” she asked getting his attention and he snapped the book closed before she could see what he was drawing. With suspicious eyes she leaned on the back of the couch, putting her head next to his, looking at the book in his hand over his shoulder. “What were you working on?” she asked as she reached for the book, but he tucked it under his leg where she couldn’t get it. She gasped exaggeratedly, "Was it something dirty?”
“A little.” He answered, peaking her interest given her recent thoughts about him.
“Show me?” she asked.
He looked at her over his shoulder “No.”
“Is it Caroline?” she asked.
He scoffed. “No.”
“Please show me?” she asked with her best puppy dog eyes and a quiet laugh left his lips as pulled the book out from under his leg and opened it. She wrapped her arms around him and held the book in front of him. He looked at the book as she took in the drawing of one of the photos he’d seen of her on her phone. She realized that this was finished and not what he had been working on. So she flipped to the front of the book and found a sketch of her in the dress she wore to the homecoming dance. On the next page was just a picture of her face and shoulders, every detail was spot on. As she continued to flip through the book the pictures, that started off innocent, became more and more revealing until she came to the unfinished one at the end, a sketch of her and Klaus in her bed. He was nude sitting up on his knees with her in his lap, her long legs wrapped around him. His arms wrapped around her hid her breasts from view. Klaus noticed that her breathing changed and he couldn’t tell if she was pissed off or turned on. She closed the book and tossed it onto the coffee table then leaned further over the couch and slid one hand to hold the side of his neck and the other over his cheek, turning his head toward her. His eyes met hers a split second before she pressed her lips to his.
He instantly kissed her back, catching her bottom lip between his. Wanting a better angle he turned putting his back against the arm of the couch with his legs stretched across it then wrapped his arm around Katie’s waist, easily lifted her over the low back of the couch, never breaking the kiss, as he laid her on top of him. She braced herself with her hands on the leather arm of the couch behind him, lost in his kiss and the feel of his hands untying her robe. She pulled back and watched his face as he pushed it down her shoulders revealing that she wasn’t wearing a bra under her spaghetti strap tank top. He couldn’t resist slipping his hands up her shoulders then over her chest and cupping her breasts in his hands. A hum left her lips and pleasure shot through her when he pinched her nipples over the fabric making him chuckle as he let go of one of her breasts and pulled her back down to kiss him.
“Oh bloody hell!” Rebekah’s voice pulled them back down to reality and Katie tucked her face into Klaus’ neck, too embarrassed to look at Rebekah. Klaus on the other hand glared daggers at her. “How many rooms are there in this house?”
“Go away, Rebekah.” He told her aggravated.
“Gladly, get a room next time so I don’t feel like stabbing my eyes out. Yeah?” She told him then turned and walked away.
When Katie heard Rebekah’s stomping footsteps disappear upstairs she pulled her face out of Klaus’ neck and looked him in the eyes. Deciding that she wasn’t going to let Rebekah’s interruption ruin her night she stood up and held her hand out to him. He took it and let her lead him to her room. “Are you sure about this?” he asked as he watched her shut the door.
“All I’m sure about anymore is that I have been nothing but miserable since Elijah left. And tonight, when I was feeling lost and aimlessly driving around because I didn’t want to go home to a house that is filled with a thousand haunting memories, I ended up here.” She slipped her hands up his chest and held the sides of his neck. “I no longer believe in love nor do I want it. I do however,” she grabbed one of his hands in both of hers and started kissing his fingertips, “want your sexy hands to touch every inch of my body…” She brushed her lips over his fingertips then kissed his pointer finger, slipped it into her mouth and looked him in the eyes as she slipped it out, “and for you to let me feel every inch of yours.”
A heavy sigh left his parted lips as he smashed them into hers. A moan bubbled up from her throat when his tongue found hers. He grabbed her sides, picked her up and she wrapped her legs around him. As his lips attacked hers she wrapped her arms around his neck and he whooshed her back, pressing her against the wall. A growl left his lips as he attacked her neck with kisses and nibbles, pulling another moan from her lips.
When she pushed at the hem of his shirt he pulled away and looked into her eyes as he pulled it over his head and she did the same with her tank top. Desperate to have his lips back on her she grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him to her catching his bottom lip between hers.
When she lightly bit his lip he moaned and whooshed them over to the bed, grabbed her hands from around his neck and pinned them down next to her head. A mixture of kisses and rough nibbles were trailed all over her neck and chest before he finally let go of one of her hands to cup her breast. She rolled them over and started undoing his belt, button and zipper.
As soon as she was done he rolled them back over losing his pants in the process then tugged her shorts and panties down her hips, tossing them haphazardly to the side. Wanting to see what he had envisioned in the drawing he sat up on his knees, running his hands down her thin sides over her curvy hips to grip her legs and wrap them back around him, admiring the sight before his eyes. Knowing what he wanted, she sat up. As she did he slid his big hands up her back until his palms were pressed to her shoulder blades.
She wrapped her arms around his torso and lightly ran her fingertips over his back making him sigh as he looked into her eyes and rested his forehead on hers. After a few seconds she noticed his gaze fall down to her chest and a smile spread over her lips. He looked back up at her with a smile of his own as he slid one of his hands around to her stomach then up, pausing when his thumb and pointer finger outlined the underside of her breast. He tilted his head, brushing her nose with his before he pressed his lips to hers.
A satisfied sigh slipped from his lips when she kissed along his jaw to his neck where she bit him without breaking the skin. His hand moved up, cupping her breast as he lightly pinched her nipple pulling a little whimper of pleasure from her as her head fell back and eyes slipped closed.
He watched her bite her bottom lip as she picked her head up and opened her eyes, looking into his as she grabbed the sides of his neck. Needing to taste her again he kissed her, his lips massaging hers before his tongue found its way into her mouth pulling a moan from her. Their hands explored each other as they made out.
Eventually when they both needed more Klaus slid his hands down her back, grabbed her butt and picked her up. Knowing what he was about to do she pulled back and looked into his eyes as he slowly lowered her down on him.
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They both sighed in satisfaction then pressed their foreheads back together not breaking eye contact as he started moving her up and down. Eventually he laid her back and kissed her chest while one of her hands gripped his hair and the other gripped his back. “Klaus.”
His name rolling off her lips in a breathy moan nearly pushed him over the edge and he pulled away from her breast and looked her in the eye. Seeing the lust and pleasure in them let him know she was just as close as he was. “Let go for me, Sweetheart.” His whispered words were all it took to send both of them spiraling off into an intense state of pure pleasure.
As they came down from their high, both still breathing hard, she tucked her face into his neck and kissed it. After a minute he rolled onto his side, sat up, grabbed the sheet from the foot of the bed and pulled it up over them. When he looped his arm around her and pulled her into his chest she laid her head on his bicep and pressed her palms to his chest, content to cuddle in silence. But after ten minutes of he began to worry. “If you do not say something soon I’m going to assume you regret what just happened.”
She pulled back and looked him in the eyes. “I definitely don't regret what just happened.” she told him quietly with content smile and a shake of her head. “I’m just…still enjoying it.” He gave her a curious look. “At any given moment of any day my mind is racing ninety to nothing and here recently my mind has been a very dark, self loathing place.” He brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek, knowing what she was talking about all too well. “But in moments like this…my mind is tranquil. It may be weird, but I enjoy the calm of after just as much as the storm of during.”
“You…are a very interesting woman.” He told her as his eyes traveled her face. He called her interesting, but her mind suddenly went into overdrive and replaced the word with a thousand different ones all muttered in her grandfather’s hateful voice. She couldn’t tell the voice that he was wrong this time. Damon, Tyler, Elijah now Klaus all within a year's time? She was throwing herself around like a common whore. She frowned and dropped her eyes to his chest.
To silence the voice and get her head elsewhere she started kissing his chest, pulling a sigh from him when she kissed his nipple then a chuckle from him when she playfully bit it. She decided then that she liked the sound of his deep relaxed laugh and pulled away to look into his eyes. He hooked his fingers under her chin and ran his thumb over the corner of her mouth then looked at her eyes.
She grabbed his hand and pressed their palms together taking in the size difference. Thinking about his slightly obsessive drawings she propped her head up with her hand and elbow and asked, “So, how long have you been working on that sketch book?”
“Pretty much since you walked into that gym on senior prank night with a fire in your eyes and an I-don’t-give-a-damn attitude.” He answered. “Then seeing those pictures on your phone didn’t help nor did the noises that floated down the hall to my room when you were with Elijah. I’ve got to admit, I’m a little jealous I didn’t get those same wall shaking moans from you.”
“I doubt you ever will.” She answered, remembering blood sharing with Elijah.
“I’m not sure if I should take offense or accept the challenge.” He told her with a slight glare.
A cheeky grin brightened her face, her fingertips slipping up his arm and over his collarbone as she looked him in the eyes and whispered, "I think we would both enjoy it more if you accept the challenge." Her pointer finger slipped under his chin as she caught his lips with hers. His hand gripped the curve of her waist as the kiss deepened then slowed. When it broke he gripped her hip, slid his hand down to her thigh and pulled it over his hips, letting her feel and see by the look on his face what would happen if she kept teasing him. She laughed. "Seriously though, that wasn't meant to be a blow to your ego. My link to Elijah tends to enhance certain things.”
“Then maybe I should find a witch and have them link us.” he told her with a devious smile.
“Please, for the love of god, don’t.” she told him with an eye roll as she pushed his shoulder for him to lay on his back so that she was sitting on his lower stomach. “Because of that stupid link there have been times when I didn’t know what was organic and what was magic and I told myself it was all real because I desperately wanted it to be. But I no longer want head over heels, whirlwind, short lived, magically enhanced love that consumes me.”
“Then what do you want?” he asked, looking her up and down, admiring her naked body.
“This.” She fell forward bracing herself on her hands on each side of his head. “You. Real.” she kissed his cheek, “Raw.” the side of his neck, “No promises.” his collarbone, “No lies.” the hollow of his neck, “No expectations.” the center of his chest, “Just two people,” she bit his pec next to his nipple, "who fancy each other," then pecked him on the lips and looked into his blue eyes, "having fun." As she sat up, she slipped her hands down his chest settling them on his sides then looked at his face. “If that’s okay with you and you can handle the three no's of course.”
“That is more than okay with me, Sweetheart.” She gave him a look that told him to say out loud that he agreed to her terms. "You have been burned by promises and lies in the past and I do not wish to cram you into a mold of who I think you should be." He told her with a pointed look. "So no promises, no lies, no expectations. Only fun." He told her as he hooked his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her down to him, kissing her deeply and passionately. When the kiss broke he rolled over onto his side and propped his head up on his hand, looking at her. “I find you…" He started ghosting his fingers up her arm in thought.
"Weird?" She asked because that's what everyone always said about her.
"Intriguing." He finished as his fingertips moved lightly across her chest. "You were willing to die in the place of Elena's aunt even though you had everything to live for…you weren’t scared to die.” He told her with a confused shake of his head “You've also never been scared of me.” He grabbed her thigh and pulled her leg back up over his hips.
She slid her hand over his shoulder. “You’ve completely and utterly terrified me.” she absentmindedly drew invisible swirls over his arm with her fingertips.
“I stabbed you in the back and broke your neck that night. How can you even stand to be in the same room with me?” he asked. He wasn't complaining by any means, but he couldn't help being curious.
“I have an uncanny and very stupid, ability to over look the bad in people and only focus on the good.” She answered with a shrug. “I’ve learned over the past year or so that it’s a little too easy for me to turn a blind eye to the horrible things people do.” She looked at her fingertips slipping lightly over his arm. “And if I’ve learned anything since senior prank night, it’s that I am drawn to you.”
“And what good do you see in me that draws you in.” He asked as he slipped his hand over her hip, to her fleshy rear.
She looked up at him with a frown. “I don’t know what draws me to you…I don’t think it’s necessarily anything good or bad…” She paused, thinking about what she wanted to say. “But I know why I can’t hate you like my ex friends do.” He gave her a look that asked her to keep talking. “When I look at you…I see an innocent version of you. He has been rejected, abused, hurt and thrown away far too many times and it’s caused him to be wrapped in a thick cocoon of anger, distrust, paranoia and hatred.” She told him and he blinked rapidly as if to hold back tears. “I see you…as mirror image of myself, but your side of the reflection has far more cracks, chips and complexities that I know I can not even begin to understand.” She looked down at her hands on his chest for a moment, feeling like she wasn't making any sense, then back into his blue eyes. “So if I hate you…it feels like I hate myself and who I could very easily become.” He just stared at her with wide eyes and when several long seconds passed she was sure she had gone too far…said too much and pissed him off. But he surprised her and pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that quickly deepened and turned passionate before he gripped her leg that was still over his hip and turned onto his back, taking her with him and letting her take the reins this time...
A/N: This is my favorite chapter to date and there are 50+ chapters to this story so far...Please tell me what you think. I love feedback. And I appreciate those who've recently expressed how much they like this story. :-)
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ask-them-bois · 4 years
Text
Ancient Sounds 5/5
AS.pt.1 AS.pt.2 AS.pt.3 AS.pt.4
Tw: Mild blood, cult
The tapping, clicking sound of Oliver’s cane on the ancient stone was the only sound the blind oliveblood heard as he navigated the dark tunnels with ease. 
He wore his black ice skating uniform; an outfit he never wore on the rink. It was sleeveless, to show off his tattoo, but had a high neck. It clung to his body like a second skin, the gems splattered across it like bloodstains glittering like fire in the faint light. It matched the black band that covered his eyes. A feather-shouldered, glittering cape flowed behind him, just barely kissing the ground, where his black and silver heels walked. The golden rings on his horn were traded for black-gold, although the emerald that dangled from the tip stayed.
Faint sounds, that would have been invisible to less-trained ears, drew Oliver deeper into the underground. Deeper and deeper he went, until the smell of fresh air was all but gone.
He was walking through a long abandoned brooding cavern, left to collapse and be used by wild lusii. That had never happened, though. Instead of a home for beasts, it had become a sanctuary for much rarer creatures.
The noises grew louder, louder, until Oliver could pick out the sounds of voices, music, and the clink of glasses individually. She rounded the final bend, and entered the largest, deepest chamber.
“Master!”
“The Master has arrived!”
“The Phoenix is here! Someone fetch the other master!”
The voices of Oliver’s Black Hand made them smile.
“Good evening, my lovelies!” They cried, only to be answered with uproarious cheers. The crowd parted to let them through, only to surge forward and crowd around at the same time, the members trying to touch their leader’s cape, cane, anywhere they could reach.
Oliver purred, holding out a hand to them and letting them touch his fingers, kiss his palm and knuckles. “Hello, my dears, hello, yes!” He crooned gleefully, as if he was speaking to grubs. He blindly cupped the face of a believer, stroking their scarred and pockmarked cheek, before releasing them. Immediately, the crowd surged towards that troll, wanting to touch their face, too.
Oliver snickered, as the crowd had moved enough to let her through to her place; part of the ground was raised in a gentle ramp, up to a perch that let her oversee the entire cavern. Not that she did much of the overseeing. Still, she stopped and turned back towards the cavern, her ears doing the looking for her.
She could hear the ever-so-faint buzz of the strings of lights that were mounted along the walls and ceilings, under the music that pumped from the speakers.
The smell of food to her left indicated the secondary chamber was offering food. The sharp smell of polish told her someone had cleaned the altar and shine on the right. Incense pumped from burning orbs on the ceiling, filling the cave with the smell of spice.
Even that, though, could not cover up the smell of rot; the smell of disease and sickness that clung to nearly every one of her underlings. She could hear their wheezing breaths, their croaking words from raw throats, the fluttery, uncertain beats of their blood-pumpers. Among them, those who were not sick still smelled wrong; mutant bloods, those with extra limbs, eyes, tails, or just off colored ichor in their veins. They held up those too weak to stand as the crowd fell silent and turned to look up at their leader.
“Good evening, my brothers and sisters!” Oliver said again, beaming down at them, “It’s been much too long since we were in one another’s graces. It pained me to be away from my sweet siblings for so long, my very soul ached to be near you all again.”
There were murmurs of ascent from the congregation. Oliver simply waited for them to be silent again.
“I can feel the pain you have all suffered since we last met, my loves. As always, the shrine is open to those in need of the Slaughtering Scapegrace’s light. The bowl is out for any who can spare their caigers for their siblings, and for those who need to take coin to cover their expenses. And my ears are open, to hear your voices.
Tonight, not only will you all be graced with my presence, and the voice of our lord, but I have a very, very special treat for you. But first- where is he? Where is my most precious diamond, the second master of the Apocalyptic Blight’s grace?” Oliver held a hand out, searching, pleading.
There was shuffling movement and the sudden sound of running footsteps.
“I’m here, baby!” The loud, bellowing, gleeful voice of Oliver’s morail cried. He skidded to a stop and fell to his knees before the oliveblood, grasping their hand.
Instantly, Oliver was flushed through with the pinkest, palest adoration. That was the voice they knew all too well, a hand they knew as if it were their own.
“Welcome home, Bohwie Akshai.” Oliver breathed.
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Bohwie looked up at his morail’s face and smiled, kissing their knuckles once more. He rose from his knees and embraced the oliveblood, who instantly clung to him in return, pressing their face into his chest.
“How I’ve missed you, my love.” Oliver breathed, her claws digging into his back.
“I missed you, too, Olly.” Bohwie crooned, pressing a kiss to Oliver’s hair before he pulled away.
Oliver smiled up at him, before she turned to address the watching crowd, still holding the cerulean’s hand. “My sweet siblings of darkened fingers, now I may tell you the wondrous gift I have brought for you!” She announced. There was a ripple of murmured excitement as she dug in her pocket. She pulled out an old, recently cleaned and polished, bronze pocket watch on a black chain.
He held it aloft, so that they could all see it. “Over four hundred and sixty-one solar sweeps ago, a man named Dmitri Akshai stood in these very caverns. He was the first troll to feel Neviserrath Apocriyna’s power, the first to be gifted his grace. He reached into Grimruinox, the realm of our god, and was duly embraced by the Shifting Darkness. He was named the Hierophant, for he was the leader of our band, the interpreter of our god’s word.  He founded the Black Hand, so that all may be embraced by the Horrendous Black.
When Neviserrath claimed him, none were strong enough to hold our lord’s might, and the Black Hand faded into the night. Now I, with his descendant at my side, have rebirthed the Hierophant’s work!” She clutched Bohwie’s hand and held it aloft, and the watching crowd broke into a frenzy of applause and cheers.
“From the ashes and fire, as your phoenix I was born, and with the Hierophant’s blood-son at my side, we gathered you!” Oliver cried over them, “You, our greatest, strongest, and most noble of siblings! While the Empire spits upon you, buries you, and mocks you, they are blinder than even I to the power you possess! Weak as your bodies may be, your souls burn bright enough that even I can see them! Tonight, let that flame consume you!”
Descending from her perch, she walked over to the shine, pulling Bohwie with her, and laid the pocket watch on the altar as if she were laying down a newly hatched grub.
“Tonight, my siblings of blackened grace, we call back the first of our kind, the one who began it all! We hail is name, only second to Neviserrath, in the hope that he will honor us, come before us, and know of our greatness!” He cried, grinning. He turned towards Bohwie, his smile softening. “There is only one more thing we need, my love.” He said, suddenly quiet, the crowd hushing so they could hear him. Holding up Bohwie’s hand, he ran his fingers over the cerulean’s palm. “The blood of our first leader rushes through you. Would you not give but a few drops to meet him?”
Bohwie closed his hand, gently squeezing Oliver’s fingers. “For our siblings, for our god, I would let you bleed me dry, my love.” He breathed, his voice trembling with excitement. “I need only a blade to do the deed with.”
Instantly, the crowd responded. The smell of steel was sharp in the air as each of them produced their own blades and held them out to their masters.
“Use mine!”
“No, mine!”
“Mine, please!”
Bohwie giggled, giddy, and reached across the altar to take one, thanking the troll who offered it. Turning back to his morail, Oliver cupped Bohwie’s free hand in their own as Bohwie placed the knife to his palm.
With a flick of his wrist, he scored the blade across his hand, and watched as his deep blue blood beaded up, pooling in the lines of his hands.
Oliver breathed deeply, the iron tang of blood burning her lungs. Cradling Bohwie’s hand, she extended it over the altar and released him, leaving him to turn his hand. She heard the blood splatter on the stone, her breath hitching in her chest.
“The blood is on the watch, my love.” Bohwie reported, a smile in his voice, “What now?”
“Now it’s my turn.” Oliver rumbled. Bohwie stepped back, and Oliver moved to stand before the altar. He pressed his hands together as if he were praying, before he reached up and undid the ribbon around his eyes. He let it flutter to the floor and opened his sightless, black and green eyes.
Oliver placed their hands on the altar and bowed their head.
There was a silent, tense moment, all eyes on the Blind Phoenix, as the oliveblood took a deep, slow breath.
Then with a bellow, he threw back his head and slammed his hands onto the altar.
Light and noise exploded around the shrine, the roar of wind and fire consuming the Black Hand leader as the light blinded the congregation. They cried out and shielded their eyes, clapped their hands over their ears, and shied away from the brunt, almost physical force of power that burst from the altar. There were pops and cracks as the strings of lights shattered and snapped. Ceramic shards hailed from the broken incense orbs.
All of it happened in the span of a moment, before the light vanished. Torches, set in sconces around the walls, suddenly burst into flame, returning light to the cavern.
The members of the crowd hesitantly looked towards the altar again, to see a physical, black shadow manifesting on the stone. It grew thicker, more solid by the second, taking on the form of a troll. The shadow moved, rolling off the altar and standing, before the darkness that cocooned it vanished.
And there, in the flickering light of the torches’ fire, stood the Hierophant.
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The elder cerulean blinked, looking around in visible confusion, as if he’d been suddenly woken.
Behind him, Oliver had pitched forward and fell to her knees, shaking and panting with exhaustion. Still, she pulled herself up and turned her head towards the older troll. Bohwie stepped closer and pulled her to her feet, letting her lean on his side.
“Dmitri Akshai,” She rasped, forcing a smile. Hierophant turned to her. “I am Oliver Maddel, your humble servant and successor to your throne. I welcome you, back among the living and among your siblings of the darkened claws.”
“Dmitri,” Bohwie began, “I am Bohwie, your descendant.”
The Hierophant looked between the two of them. “It is an honor to meet you, Bohwie Akshai, descendant.” He said. His voice was deep, rich, and firm. He bowed slightly to Bohwie, before he turned to Oliver. “But you,” He continued, glaring over the top of his glasses, “are not my successor.”
Oliver’s eyebrows rose and he stood up, able to stand without his morail now. “I do not understand, my master.”
“I am not your master, either. There is another. Neviserrath tells me they wear the robes, when you clearly do not.”
“R- robes?” Oliver repeated.
Bohwie suddenly gasped. “Musrio!” He snarled. Oliver stiffened.
“What about him?”
“Hierophant, his- his robes- they look just like Musrio’s! Only blue!”
Oliver’s mouth fell open in shock.
“Musrio?” Hierophant repeated. He closed his eyes momentarily, a blissful smile on his face. “Yes. That is his name. Musrio is the one who succeeds me. Neviserrath chose him, just as he chose me, then.”
“But- but master, surely that is a mistake! Musrio- he- he wants to be rid of us!” Oliver cried. She lurched around the altar and grabbed Hierophant’s sleeve, her face tilted up towards his, her expression pleading. “He wishes the Black Hand gone! He does not worship Neviserrath, only uses his powers like playthings! He stole our chosen child, the one who would truly hold our god’s power and change this wretched world!”
“No, Oliver.” Hierophant removed the oliveblood’s hands from his sleeve and stared down at him coolly, “It is you who plays with Neviserrath’s gifts. You were not chosen. You took your powers, did you not? Demanded our god to give them to you? You took what was not meant to be taken, only given. Musrio was gifted his powers, and his robes- the robes meant for the harbinger. There is no “chosen child”. The holy war you insist on fighting does not exist. There is only one who could ever dispel our god, but she is far, far from Alternia.”
“But- but I brought the Black Hand back from the ashes! I am the Blind Phoenix!” Oliver insisted, his voice cracking.
“The Blind Phoenix? Is that a name you chose yourself, or did Neviserrath give it to you?” Heirophant inquired, a soft, cruel smile on his face.
“I… I-”
Hierophant chuckled. He adjusted his robes and turned away, heading for the exit. “Oh, my dear Oliver Maddel. You have no idea what powers you toy with. You are ignorant, nay, stupid, to take what is not yours. Our god does not love you. You are being set up to fail.”
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EVERYONE PLEASE WELCOME BOHWIE AND DMITRI “HIEROPHANT” AKSHAI!!!
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beyondconfessor · 4 years
Text
Principle Decisions [16/24]
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Zelda Spellman/Lilith
Summary: They were in the middle of an interrogation suddenly, and propriety dictated that Lilith should be the one to decline to comment, but Zelda could see that she was, for the first time since she’d known her, uncertain in how to do that. 
N.B.: Also posted on AO3. This is pure fantasy, please suspend your disbelief.
Zelda shuffled the newspaper, looking around it to peak at Sabrina. Her niece was sitting at the table, eating at the pancakes Hilda had made. 
She knew she should say something. Advise Sabrina that she was friends with her principal, and yet all Zelda had managed to say was that she was having a few people over for dinner. The family was welcome to be there, but it was for a small gathering of friends as she hadn’t hosted anything in some time.
It had involved her scrambling to invite Constance over, and then she had found herself inviting Shirley as well, because, well, she was technically Constance’s friend as well and Constance had asked and Zelda didn’t want to refuse her despite how much of a cow the woman was. And technically, Shirley had been nothing but polite to her since returning from her mother’s funeral.
Which meant that she had three guests and four family members, and would be sitting seven people––except Ambrose asked if he could bring Luke, which meant eight, and then Sabrina asked if she could bring Harvey, nine, and then Hilda, not wanting to feel left out, requested to bring Doctor Cee. Ten.
Ten people were to be sitting at an impromptu dinner and Zelda had to buy groceries, and wine and decide on what to cook––and then try to get her sister and Sabrina to help her, because god forbid she do all the cooking herself.
Ten people. It was certainly to be a dinner party at the very least, and all because she wanted people to see that her and Lilith were friends. Though she supposed she should refer to her as Mary during the party, to prevent anyone from getting confused.
Zelda had the family cleaning the house from top to bottom, ensuring cobwebs were removed, the floors were mopped, and rugs had had the dust and dirt beaten from them, giving them new life. 
She also made sure that the upstairs was just as clean, though it was unlikely anyone would be heading upstairs. She didn’t have to worry about Sabrina, who, like herself, tended to keep a tidy space. But Hilda and Ambrose both ended up having a lecture from her for the state of their rooms, both bowing their heads and grumbling under their breaths as they spent their Thursday and Friday evenings cleaning them. 
Heaven only knew why it took them so long, but so be it.
Saturday morning, she began prepping the food with Hilda. During that time, she received two text messages from Lilith (one of which was just a photo that Zelda quickly responded to), five from Constance fretting over what to bring, and one from Shirley (who was only asking for confirmation of the address). 
By four, the house carried the scent of a cooked roast, with entrees already set, leaving her enough time to shower and dress, preparing herself to look good. 
She fiddled between jewellery, a nervousness filling her before she finally managed to decide on a complimentary emerald set to the dress she wore. And then by the time she was downstairs, ensuring the white wine was in the fridge and the red wine was set out, to decant, the first guest had arrived.
Sabrina answered the door, tugging Harvey inside who looked wide-eyed at the adults. “I…” he said, holding out a bouquet. “Um, didn’t know what to bring.”
Zelda softened at the flowers, noting that they were not an inexpensive set. “Thank you, Harvey,” she said, taking the flowers in hand and making her way into the kitchen. It was an odd choice of gift to bring, but given that the boy couldn’t bring a bottle of wine, and likely felt embarrassed at the idea of bringing dessert (something Zelda would have taken offence to, anyway) she settled that the flowers were a polite choice.
In the kitchen, she unwrapped them, setting them in a vase with water, before taking them to the dining room table as the centrepiece. This way, the boy would likely feel welcomed into the home, and Sabrina would feel that she was making some effort to be respectful towards their relationship. 
As she was fixing one of the flowers, the doorbell rang again. Zelda turned around, moving to greet the new guest only to hear Sabrina’s blanched voice, “Ms. Wardwell?”
“Sabrina,” Lilith greeted, smiling tightly as she entered, holding a bottle of wine. “Hilda, lovely to see you.”
“Oh, Mary, Zelds didn’t tell us that you were her mystery friend.”
Lilith’s eyes turned to Zelda’s, a strange look filling them. “Didn’t she?” 
Zelda flushed. “Well you’re here now, and there’s no need for introductions.”
“When did you and Ms Wardwell become friends?”
Zelda drew in a breath. She’d prepared an answer and yet, faced with her niece, it felt flimsy at best.
“Your Aunt and I happened to keep running into each other, quite accidentally. I believe she thought I was a parent at the school until that nasty fight occurred.” 
Zelda’s shoulders relaxed with those woods. There was truth enough in them that she didn’t need to worry about Sabrina poking holes into it. 
“Oh,” was all Sabrina said. There was a furrow to her brow, as if she wasn’t entirely pleased with the situation, but in fairness, Zelda couldn’t blame her. It was one thing for your Aunt to prolifically know quite a fair amount of people in the town due to having taught them, it was another thing entirely for her to be good enough friends with your Principal that she invited her over for dinner.
“I brought a bottle of wine,” Lilith said, holding up the bottle in grip before she handed it over. Zelda took it, glancing to the label and noted that was it was a midrange bottle. Not so expensive to draw eyes, but not cheap by any means.
“Thank you, this will go lovely with dinner.”
Lilith’s lips twisted into a smirk, and then before she could even think of saying something, the door was ringing again. 
Within forty-five minutes, everyone had arrived, with Constance been the last person––profusely apologising, advising that Faustus had been home late and the au pair was off sick, so she’d been unable to leave any sooner.
“It’s not an issue,” Zelda assured, leading her to sit down. “It’s good to see you.”
“Honestly, these days, he’s home later and later, and I––“ Constance seemed to catch herself, realising the setting. “I’m tired of looking after the twins,” she finished. “One child is a full-time job, but two!” 
Zelda nodded, “A glass of wine, perhaps.”
“Please.”
The table was set, and Zelda noted that Lilith took her left-hand side, across from Constance, who sat next to Shirley. The table filled with people sitting side-by-side with their respected guests, leaving Sabrina to sit at the other end of the table, Ambrose to one side and Harvey to the other. 
Which meant that Hilda and Doctor Cee were sitting across from one another in the middle, but so be it. 
Food was served, the wine passed down the table, with Sabrina and Harvey permitted to have a single glass with dinner (though Harvey politely refused). 
Ever the hostess, Zelda led the conversation with Constance and Shirley, discussing their end of terms, before their plans for the winter break. 
“Oh, Faustus and I were planning to travel, but I think with the twins it’d just be too difficult, so we might stay for the winter.”
“I had plans with my mother,” Shirley said. “But, that’s all gone now, so I suppose I’ll just spend Christmas alone.”
Zelda felt a flare of annoyance rise in her at Shirley’s unsubtle attempt to shaft her mother’s death into the conversation, but relaxed when she felt Lilith’s hand slide covertly under the table and settle on her thigh. The fingers squeezed over her knee and with it, Zelda felt her emotions soften.
She turned, looking out the corner of her eye and noticed her inquisitive expression towards Shirley. “Do you have any siblings?” Lilith asked
“No, only child.”
Lilith nodded. “It must be hard.”
Shirley gave a wave of her hands and a tight smile. “You do the best you can,” she said. “It’s just my first Christmas without my mum, and pfft, Dad left long ago.”
“You’ll have the memories of all your Christmases before with your mother. It won’t make it easier, but it definitely…easies the ache to know that you had that time together.”
“Did you lose your mother, too?” Constance asked.
“Oh,” Lilith pulled away, and Zelda felt her hand drop away as she gave an awkward laugh. “I suppose so, but I…never knew my parents,” she said, finishing tightly with a soft shrug of her shoulders. “But in the end, you make your own family.”
A silence pulled then, and Zelda turned and looked at Lilith, asking her softly. “What about your foster parents, or adopted–?“
“I never had a steady home,” Lilith said, and then her eyes pulled away. “I was on my own at the age of sixteen, but that’s neither here nor there.”
“I didn’t mean to pry,” Constance said, “It’s just that you spoke of loss.”
“Have you lost someone recently?” Shirley asked. “A sister, perhaps or…brother?”
Lilith looked awkward then, and Zelda realised there was a deep, pained expression. Lilith didn’t want to discuss whatever pain-point that was, and yet no one else on the table seemed to notice. All of their attention was focused on her, eager to see what story would unfold. 
Zelda felt nauseous by it. They were in the middle of an interrogation suddenly, and propriety dictated that Lilith should be the one to decline to comment, but Zelda could see that she was, for the first time since she’d known her, uncertain in how to do that. 
“I think it can be said that we’ve all lost someone close to us,” Zelda spoke. “I know that losing Edward and Diana still brings a painful reminder when the holiday comes around. Mary’s right, the time we spent, and the memories we carry of them remind us of how precious the time we have together is. And the pain of knowing what we lost reminds us that we’re still capable of carrying on that love of them in our hearts.”
It was a sappy speech, but effective nonetheless as Hilda gave a misty-eyed look to her, tilting her glass in agreement, as soft murmurs broke over the table.
And then, the conversation drifted––Hilda began speaking of Edward and Diana fondly to the keen attention of Doctor Cee and Sabrina, as Constance and Shirley began discussing the dullness of wills and funeral affairs. 
To her side she noticed Lilith stiffen, her expression far away on something else. 
Leaning towards her, she asked loud enough that others would hear, “could you help me get dessert ready? I need to let it sit.”
And then they were pulling away, glasses in hand as they went into the kitchen as the conversation began to return to lighter topics behind them. 
Lilith held her glass of wine, and before she could say anything, Zelda filled the glass and then her own. 
In the kitchen, the dinner party seemed far away and Zelda was able to sip at her wine as she watched Lilith take a mouthful before setting it down on the counter. There was still a distant stare in the woman, and Zelda ached as she looked at her. 
She knew better than to ask. If and when Lilith was ready, she would reach out on her own terms.
The Lilith took a breath, standing up straight as she masked her expression to say, “I apologise. I didn’t mean–-“
“There’s no reason for you to apologise, you did nothing wrong. Everyone else forgot social decorum and decided to dive straight into your history like you were some bleeding heart poet.” Not that Zelda was surprised. Lilith was a new a face, with a mysterious background, of course, everyone would be curiously picking at whatever they could find. 
Turning away, she went into the fridge and pulled out the dinner, setting it down on the table. There wasn’t anything she needed to do with it, but if she was being honest, she didn’t want to drift back to the party and listen to Shirley whine about being motherless.
Zelda barely cried when her mother passed, and she certainly didn’t drag it into every conversation possible to tug at the heartstrings. She simply moved on, as was expected, and continued her research. 
Hilda had been a bit more sentimental and had cried in her room for days. But by then, they’d already lost their father, and the only reason their mother remained alive had been out of sheer spite, it seemed.
Lilith stood awkwardly in the kitchen, as if she didn’t know quite what to do with herself, and Zelda could sympathise. “I did warn you,” Zelda said, trying to lighten the mood. “My family are gossips.”
“Well, I suppose it’s to be expected.”
Zelda peaked out of the room, looking at the dining table before returning to smile at Lilith. “You know, it will probably take them a few moments to know we’re missing. If you wanted a distraction. I could show you around my home.”
“Show me around?”
“Mm. I’ve seen your office, it’s only fair that I show you mine.”
Lilith’s eyes lit-up, a half-smile tugging at her lips. It was an interest, and a chance of topic, at the very least. “And just what does the great Zelda Spellman’s office look like?”
Zelda smiled before nodding her head to exit out of the kitchen, towards the hallway. There, she led her to the large oak door. She turned back to glance at Lilith before twisting the handle, opening the door up to her office like it was a secret place, reserved only for the elite. 
In a sense it was. She didn’t permit guests into her office and her family certainly knew better than to step foot in it when she wasn’t present. 
Lilith entered the room behind her, her eyes drawing over its contents as she circled the office space. Her eyes wandered across the shelves, to the desk, touching over the variety of knick-knacks as Zelda closed and locked the door behind them. 
At the sound of the lock, Lilith turned. “Presumptuous.”
“I didn’t want any interruptions,” she said. “But if you are after something, we’ll need to be quick, before they notice our absence.”
Lilith smirked. “I’m sure there’ll be time yet. You’re giving me a tour of your house, after all.”
“Am I?”
Lilith picked up a framed picture of the family before setting it down, and then her eyes were flicking over the shelves, glancing over their titles. Without looking away, she said. “Take off your underwear.”
“Is that how we’re going to play it?” 
“I won’t ask twice.” Lilith glance at her then, and despite the severity of her expression, warning her to obey, Zelda could see the sparkle in her eyes, before the woman returned to perusing the shelves. 
They both needed a distraction, so be it.
Zelda smirked, and then slid her hands up her dress, sliding the lace down before she stepped out of them and picked them up in her hand. She intended to set them aside, except, as she walked to her desk, Lilith turned around and snatched them from her grip, smirking. 
“You’ll need to be quiet,” she said. “Can you be quiet for me?”
Zelda grinned. “I can be quiet.”
“I thought I’d ask because you were rather vocal in my office, and I doubt a mouse problem would be so easily believed,” Lilith said as she stepped forward until she was in Zelda’s space.
Zelda’s face tilted towards her. “I can be quiet,” she assured.
“Let’s see, otherwise I might have just the use for these,” she said, holding up the lace, and then leant forward and kissed her.
It was a needy kiss, demanding with biting and sucking and Zelda revelled in it, sliding her hands over Lilith’s shoulders and through her hair before she felt the woman’s hands settle on her hips, as she pressed Zelda backwards until her back hit the wall. 
Zelda gasped as Lilith pulled back, her face inches away before she tugged Zelda’s dress up, high on her hips and began purposefully sliding her fingers over her sex. 
At the very first stroke, Zelda’s head rolled back, eyes squeezing shut. 
“Uh-uh, eyes on me,” Lilith said, and tugged Zelda’s face towards her. “Look at me, Zelda.”
Zelda nodded, watching Lilith’s face shifted with pleasure as she continued to stroke, drawing it out in a slow tease. “There we go. Aren’t you just delicious,” she said. 
Zelda whimpered as she felt the woman slide inside of her and then Lilith was pressing against her, one hand stroking inside of her as the other splayed across her sternum, holding her firmly against the wall
“Be quiet. We wouldn’t want anyone to hear.”
“I am––“ and then Zelda stopped, feeling a hand wrap around her throat, pinning her there. Her eyes fluttered shut at the feeling. 
“Open up,” Lilith said. 
Zelda obeyed, opening her mouth only to watch as Lilith grinned and lifted the black lace in grip, before pressing them into her mouth.  Zelda’s mouth closed over the underwear, tasting her arousal as she watched as the pleased expression wash over Lilith’s face as she continued to fuck her.
The hand on her throat was firm, but not restrictive, in that when she swallowed her saliva, she could feel the muscles press against Lilith’s palm.
But as she whimpered, the hand grew tighter in warning, reminding her.
It was painfully erotic, to the point Zelda could feel her response pulsating between her legs.
Zelda had engaged in light choking in the past and hadn’t mind how it felt with her other lovers, but when Lilith was fucking her like that, holding her throat like that, Zelda struggled to recall that there was a world outside of this room, outside of sex, outside of Lilith. 
She wanted to go home with her, or take her upstairs and revel in a night of fucking. But she couldn’t. There were other people to think of, consequences for actions. 
But Lilith was holding her firm and Zelda felt like she might break if she let go. 
Her heart ached and she watched the woman’s face staring at hers as she bit back her whimpers and hushed moans, feeling the woman draw her close and closer to climax, until she was finally squeezing around the fingers, feeling her pulse thump against the woman’s hand.
And when the climax ceased and Zelda was drawing away, feeling it wash away from her as Lilith drew out the make-shift gag from her mouth, she watched a strange expression pass on Lilith’s face—not unlike it had all those weeks ago when she’d made her climax against the knot on the rope.
“Lilith,” she said, watching as the woman stepped back, her hands falling away. “Lilith, whatever it is you, you can speak to me.”
The woman’s eyes looked up at her.  “I like you a lot, Zelda,” she admitted. “It’s…been a while since I’ve had such a vested interest in another person.”
Zelda nodded, swallowing. “It’s been a while for me too.”
Lilith smiled at her, but there was a sadness to it, and for a horrible, sinking moment Zelda thought the woman might cry. But then Lilith was blinking and the emotion sunk away from her face, leaving only an echo of what had been there. “I’m sorry for––“
“You have nothing to apologise for,” Zelda assured. She reached out then with her empty hand and took Lilith’s hand in her own, squeezing her fingers. “We don’t have to go back out there.”
“It’s your dinner party,” Lilith reminded. “Whatever would people think if the hostess disappeared?”
“I don’t care what any of them think, I didn’t do this for them.” She felt her words die away, knowing she’d revealed too much of herself in those words. Letting go of Lilith’s hand, she looked away. “What I meant to say was that the whole point of this damned party was for us to show that we were friends.”
“And yet you hid that revelation from your family,” Lilith pointed out.
Zelda looked away. “I––didn’t know how to tell Sabrina. But I’d hardly say that I hid the fact, merely…delayed it.”
Lilith blinked, leaving silence to press between them before she asked, “Are you so worried about if she approves?”
Zelda squirmed uncomfortably at the words and looked away. She didn’t know how to put it into words, but the answer was yes, she did care. She cared about Sabrina’s thoughts. Deep in her heart, she knew why, but to admit it to herself, let alone Lilith, was too vulnerable of a position to put herself in.
“You’re not…ashamed of––“
“No,” Zelda assured. “I’m not ashamed. I…wanted more time of it just being about you and me.”
“It still is,” Lilith assured. “Why do you think that’s going to disappear if people know?” 
Because things were good, she wanted to say. And if her family got involved, they would ruin it unintentionally. They wouldn’t mean to, but they would. They always did. “Is it so wrong to want you all to myself?”
Lilith’s head tilted and a strange expression crossed her face, as if she was tasting the words, poking at the deeper meaning of them.
Zelda flushed and looked away. “I just mean––“
“I know what you mean,” Lilith said, as she stepped back. Her hands crossed underneath her chest as she seemed to pull away, looking as upset as she had been before, at the dinner table, which was the opposite of what Zelda wanted. 
“No, I don’t think you do––Lilith, I’m a private person. All my life, my family think of me as some emotionally repressed, ambitious…hussy,” she added as an afterthought, remembering Hilda’s words from the other week. “I want one thing untainted from them, because inevitable they’ll show you how…broken I am, and you won’t want anything to do with me.”
“Do you think you’re broken?”
“Certainly not,” she said. “But…” she didn’t know how to explain it to her. “They have a way of bringing out the worst in me.” She paused then, looking away. “When I was younger, I had a very active sex life, and that reputation has followed me my entire life. Even when I began at the University rumours followed me. Students still whisper about me sleeping with graduates to pass the time and that, on top of how difficult my family can be. How nosy they are and how selfish I am as a person…” she trailed off and drew in a breath, trying to centre herself and remember what she was trying to say. “This is good. Whatever this is, it works and I don’t feel ashamed of it. But I don’t want other people’s perceptions to take away from this.” 
“You’re worried people will find out and think you’re some kind of deviant?” Maybe, Zelda realised, exhaling. She didn’t feel shame, just a need to keep that side of herself separate. “I’m not going to air your dirty panties, Zelda,” Lilith teased. “But I do want to be your friend.”
“We are friends.”
“Are we?”
Zelda frowned. “What makes you think we’re not?”
Lilith shook her head and smiled. “You’re right. Of course we are.” She smiled and then drifted her eyes around the room. “I should make my way home soon,” she advised. “Before it gets too late.”
Zelda opened her mouth to argue that she could stay the night, if she so wished, but the words didn’t come out. “Stay for dessert at least?” she asked.
“For dessert,” Lilith agreed. 
And then Zelda found herself walking towards the door, unlocking it before she pointed out to where the downstairs water closet was.
Lilith drifted down towards that bathroom and Zelda made her way into the kitchen, where she washed her hands and caught her reflection in the mirror. Thankfully, there was no lipstick marks on her neck, just an ache over her body. A need to request Lilith to stay so she could take her to bed––and honestly, a part of her just wanted to get naked and fall asleep in the woman’s arm.
When they both returned to the dining room, Lilith’s expression had shifted easily to a masked expression, her smile bright, but Zelda could see where it didn’t quite meet her eyes as she spoke with table about art and philosophy, diving into the conversation easily. 
It left Zelda pondering the incident. Lilith had lost someone, and it was evident by the way she’d withdrawn that it was still recent, or deeply painful and somehow, whatever Zelda had said was wrong. 
A strange, hollow feeling settled in her chest and Zelda set it aside, not wanting to deal with it. It wasn’t a feeling she wanted to dwell on, and the selfishness of it made her tear her eyes away from the dinner party, feeling an ache settle in her chest.
She was better than that. 
The rest of dinner passed without issue. Dessert was served. Shirley remained a bitch, and slowly Lilith’s expression turned with genuine interest. 
And then Zelda was serving coffee as Harvey and Sabrina disappeared with Luke and Ambrose. And the remainder of the party moved to the parlour. There, she found herself sitting between Constance and Lilith, aware of Lilith’s body heat as her thigh pressed against her own. And then, very casually, she felt Lilith lean forward to the coffee table, her fingers drifting briefly against her thigh as the woman’s eyes caught hers. 
The other guests were caught in a rapturous discussion over books, but for the life of her, Zelda couldn’t follow what they were saying when she felt the brush of fingers against hers.
But as Zelda went to subtly enquire as to what the woman was implying, Lilith was thanking her for food and company and advised that she needed to leave to get through some administration. 
Oh. 
At that, Shirley and Constance agreed that they, too, needed to leave. Which prompted Doctor Cee to make a vague excuse and resulted in Zelda walking everyone out of the house, her eyes lingering on Lilith as she fought the urge to kiss her goodbye.
And then, they were gone and the house was empty. 
There was still the children upstairs, but if Zelda was being honest, she didn’t care. They’d sort themselves out.
“So you and Mary?” Hilda inclined.
“Pardon?” 
“You and Mary are friends?”
“Oh,” Zelda nodded. “New friends.”
Hilda gave a strange look, before shrugging to herself. “Well, she’s all alone here. I’m sure she needs a friend just as much as you.”
Zelda hummed to herself and drew away from her sister. Exhaustion filled her and there was still a twisting feeling in her stomach as she thought of Lilith’s expression as the woman had pulled away. Zelda was familiar enough with that deep, aching pain to know that if Lilith wanted to speak of it, she would. As it were, they weren’t dating each other and Lilith had no requirements to share what she was feeling.
It still didn’t stop her thoughts running wild.
She showered, thinking of it, changed into her pyjamas and then climbed into bed, still thinking of Lilith. She was just closing her eyes to sleep when she noticed her phone flash in the dark. 
Reaching to the bedside table, she pulled it off its charge and looked it over.
Thank you for tonight. I enjoyed the evening.
And then before Zelda could think of an adequate reply, another message was sent through.
That Shirley woman’s a bitch though. How did you two end up as friends?
Zelda felt a wave of indignant annoyance at the mention of being friends with Shirley Jackson. She wrote back a furious response, ensuring Lilith was aware that she was absolutely not friends with the woman, and only invited her because Constance had half-invited her to begin with. 
There was a back and forth banter for a few minutes and then the phone was ringing and Zelda answered, feeling an anxiety pull at her as she sat up, pressing against the pillows on the bed head. “Lilith?”
“I owe you an explanation about my behaviour tonight.”
Zelda’s chest tightened at the words. The last thing she wanted was for the woman to feel guilted into revealing her past. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“I do,” Lilith said. “Not that long ago, before Greendale, there was someone. We were planning for the rest of our lives when, very suddenly, he was in a car accident. Adam––“ she paused and Zelda heard the heaviness in her breath Lilith tried to find the words. “He was good. For a long while, I’d forgotten to ask myself what I wanted and he reminded me. And then he was gone, and I moved to Greendale to get away from the life we were building together. And it seemed like such a long, hard thing to do, so I went back to what used to bring me joy and began my Dominatrix service again…and then I saw you.”
Zelda wanted to say something, but she wasn’t sure what an appropriate response was.
“I lied to you about a few things when we were starting. I have a few regular clients that I’ve always had, but there’s no one like you, Zelda. There’s no other client that I see that comes close to what I…permitted with you. Before Adam, I had a much more extensive business across the city, but not here.”
Zelda’s brow pressed, and then an old question rose. “Did you slip the business card into the book?”
“I did. You don’t recall but I was in the bookshop as well, and I noticed you pursuing the erotica and the self-help section before you set the books aside. When your sister had pointed to the book, I slid the card in, hoping you’d take an interest.”
“How did you know I would call?”
“I didn’t. I had no idea if you would or wouldn’t. I knew nothing about you except what book took your curiosity. But, I will admit, you were quite beautiful and I hoped. And then you rang.”
Zelda tried to recall the day in the bookshop, but she remembered nothing of any other occupants, her anger solely focused on Hilda.
“I understand if you feel misled.”
“I don’t,” Zelda advised. “You didn’t force my hand in calling you. I did it myself, almost eagerly so.”
“And then you came back for a second session,” Lilith said with a laugh and then she heard the sound of what sounded like metal on glass, tinkering in the background. 
“I hadn’t cried since my brother’s passing,” Zelda admitted. “For a while, I thought I’d forgotten how. I certainly felt vexed and frustrated to the point that only alcohol or cigarettes seemed to ease it, but I hadn’t…really allowed myself to feel anything for some time until that first session.”
“Well, if you ever want to be spanked until you’re a sobbing mess, I can always provide that.”
“I…will take you up on that offer,” Zelda admitted. It wasn’t the same as the ache she felt before, but there was a weight off her chest, as if something had shifted between them in the quiet of the room. 
“You should come over,” Lilith asked. 
“I’m not driving thirty minutes in the dead of the night,” Zelda scoffed. “I’m already dressed for bed.”
“And what does Zelda Spellman wear to bed?”
“Pyjamas,” she responded dryly. “What else would I wear?”
“Nothing,” Lilith replied. “In fact, I think you should take off your ‘pyjamas’ right now.” The tone had shifted again and Zelda felt herself sit up straighter as a result. She thought to disagree with her and advise that she was going to go to sleep, but all at once, she was wide-awake.
“Fine,” she sighed, before pulling the dressing gown over her head and setting it at the end of the bed before sitting back, bringing the phone to her ear. “I’ve taken it off.”
“And your underwear?” 
“Who said I was wearing any?”
Lilith laughed, and then it slowly faded and there was a pause between them as Zelda waited for the next instruction. “Tell me what you would want me to do to you if I was there.”
That was a change, and Zelda felt it hum down her. She swallowed, settling back on the bed. “We would have to be quiet,” she said, before biting her lip, that probably wasn’t a very sexy thing to say. “You would sneak into my bedroom, and get into bed with me.”
“Mmhmm?” She heard an exhaled breath and then Zelda realised what Lilith was doing.
Invigorated by it, Zelda sat up straight and then parted her own legs, following in the same stead. “Lilith all I want is to fuck you. I want to undress you and feel how wet you are. I want to slide inside of you and feel your hips rock and listen as you gasp and moan. I want to taste you and slide my tongue inside of you.”
“Is that all?” Lilith purred, and there was decorum before Zelda heard a gasp through the phone. “And if you had me, is that all you would do?”
“I would fuck you,” Zelda assured. “I want to see your face when I make you climax, and feel it around my fingers, and then, when you think I’m done, I’m going to turn you over and fuck you again, harder until your hands are clutching at my sheets and you’re left gasping.”
“Zelda.” 
“I’m going to fuck you, even if I have to tie you down myself and find that cock you love so much and bury it deep inside of you.”
She could hear Lilith panting now, there was no disguise to what she was doing. Zelda stroked between her legs, naked on her bed as slid inside of her self, her other hand stroking at her clit as her shoulder pressed the phone to her ear.
“If you come for me, you will say my name,” Zelda commanded it, and she heard a gasp from Lilith, unmistakable as the woman edged closer and closer. “I hope you know that I’m fucking myself just think about it. Of binding you up with your hands behind your back and bending you over my bed until I’m satisfied.”
“Yes,” Lilith panted, and there was a hushed moan.
Zelda bit her lip, holding back her pleasure. She could feel how close she was too. It was building inside of her as she dug her heels into the bed and then it was all she could focus on as she listened to Lilith keen closer and closer.
Zelda’s breath hitched as she felt the orgasm tug low, pulling at her. “Lilith,” she said. “I want to hear you."
And then, obediently, Lilith cried out and it was Zelda’s name on her lips. An earnest noise, void of performance. It was enough to topple Zelda as she found herself squeezing around her fingers before the orgasm pulled through her.
Her back arched, head pressing against the pillows as her heels dug into the mattress, and then it was over and she was sliding her fingers out, dropping them wetly against herself as she listened to Lilith catch her breath through the receiver.
Lilith gave a short laugh. “If you ever want to switch it up, I would be most pleased,” she said. “But I won’t be anywhere near as obedient as you unless you beg me sweetly.”
“I can handle a brat,” Zelda said, and Lilith laughed.
“I’m sure you can.”
There was a silence that pulled between them as they settled and Zelda felt her eyes close, a tiredness washing over her. “I’m glad you came.”
“Oh, as am I,” Lilith teased.
Zelda scoffed, but the sound barely had an impact on how tired she felt. “I’m glad you came to dinner,” she corrected. “It would have been intolerable without you.”
“Zelda Spellman, are you getting sentimental on me?”
She hummed a response, pulling the blankets up over her body. It was getting cold, and as her body cooled down, she was all the more aware of how empty her bed was. “I enjoy your company, outside of sex.”
“As do I.”
“We should…” and then she wasn’t sure what she was going to say, because the world drifted away as she slipped into a dream. 
_________________
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halothenthehorns · 3 years
Text
All in the Family
Chapter 29: The Dueling Club
Peter found it a genuine relief, once his head stopped ringing, to find themselves not in Hogwarts for now. There was just too much going on in their school that was giving him the creeps, too much trouble Harry kept getting into that they somehow managed to follow.
His confusion still rose of where exactly they were. There were glass cases lined all along the walls and a metal bar protruding from the wall in front of all that as if it were any kind of deterrent, and it took a few moments before he could get to his feet and peak into the nearest one, prepared to dart away the second another dangerous thing lunged out. Instead he found a strange, very tiny little creature with rough brown skin and buggering blue eyes. There were three prongs coming out the back of its head, but four legs that seemed webbed in appearance and a flat tail. His eyes swept down further and he saw a plaque reading Axolotl- Ambystoma mexicanum, with some description of the beast. Looking more properly now along the way again he saw the same type of thing in front of every display. They were in a reptile house.
He'd been to the zoo a few times in his youth, but his mum being a seamstress meant they hadn't much money and it had been a treat. As far as they knew Harry had only been the one time, but that didn't explain why they were here now. Up until this point they'd been following Harry along, this seemed rather out of the way.
"Hey, I think I found the boa Harry was talking to," Frank said as he eyed a great mound of green coils snoozing away.
"I don't think so," Alice corrected. "I distinctly recall that one being brown, and a Brazilian boa. The Emerald's are from Brazil, but not the right species."
"Maybe they don't have it on display anymore," Lily muttered, thinking that whether it had escaped captivity or been caught, someone likely wouldn't want it on sight anymore.*
"Oi, I found a door that opened!" Sirius whooped in triumph, keeping the book loosely under his arm as he sucked in the fresh air. "How about we put this nasty business on hold lads and get some space, I've never been to a zoo before!"
"That was just sad," Remus told him at once, and Peter was more than happy to follow them out of this place. Too many things in here would find him a snack, in both bodies he could assume.
"I want to see the Dudley gorilla," James agreed as he darted past, coming almost at once to a fork in the road. He didn't even hesitate, high on pure energy he darted right and took off at full speed still shouting about all the animals he wanted to see.
"I vote Wormtail fetches him," Remus smirked.
"You literally just used a Padfoot joke on me, I can't decide if I'm offended or flattered," Peter rolled his eyes as he strolled past the two, who were clearly enjoying the clear skies and shady foliage more.
"Go with flattered and do what he says," Sirius suggested.
Peter was already doing so, scoffing about the two turning into layabouts, but turning into a jog to keep James in sight as he took a left. He finally caught up to him as he was bouncing in place and reading the plaque of a reindeer. "Look, look it Wormie! My distant cousins!"
"Prongs, you know just because you can turn into one doesn't mean-"
"Shhh! Don't spoil my fun, think I can get in there with them? Bet I can be king of the herd!"
"James, I really wouldn't recommend-"
He was being ignored, he'd already slipped under the wooden boards and was standing in the space in between, fingers pressed into the mesh gate, eyeing the top as if he could gauge how far the jump was. "Wonder why they only have males in there," he said absently as he tried to fit a trainer into the metal.
"This is one of the few species of deer where females can grow prongs to, I'm sure they're in there," Peter said in resignation as he managed to get both feet off the ground, but stayed there for a moment rather than lifting himself higher.
James hesitated, trying to stretch his arm up higher to get more purchase without toppling over, but couldn't get his feet in well enough to manage such a thing. "Where's Sirius?" He demanded as he wobbled dangerously, looking for more backup than Peter's silent unsupport.
"He and Moony were taking their sweet time while you ran off."
"Been noticing that a lot lately," James groused as he let himself loose and hit the ground, deciding to focus on this. Of course he could have made the climb if he wanted to...it just would have been easier if he'd had his broom.
"Yeah," Peter agreed, keeping the bitterness entirely out of his voice as James acknowledged this as well.
"Probably just catching each other up on every mundane detail Pads missed the past month," James sighed, even as he did gaze back curiously.
"Wasn't much to miss," Peter reminded.
James ignored this, no need to go back and reminisce how quiet their life had somehow gotten with one of their numbers not on speaking terms, so grabbed hold of Peter and began towing him further on. "Oh well, they'll catch up. I saw an exhibit for meerkats isn't far off, let's go see your cousins Pete!"
"I think this place got the sign for this one wrong," Frank told Alice as he inspected the odd creature before him. "That's clearly some kind of zebra."
"Says here an Okapi is a subspecies of giraffes and zebras," Alice agreed. Shrugging at how odd Muggels were for their many sciences, especially in naming creatures. The two moved on, stopping with increasing frequency and more than happy to have Lily around whenever they ran across something odd, like a cart full of bobble-heads.
She seemed to be in a radiant mood, having tied her hair up and was all but skipping ahead of them and only rounded back when they called out a question to her. When curiosity had gotten the better of her and Alice had finally asked why, she'd just smiled and admitted, "the peace and quiet is nice."
It was true they hadn't heard a word of the book yet, which was rather odd, and they wondered if distance had finally pulled the magic too far and they didn't even know if the Marauders were continuing the story somewhere else. Only Frank seemed disappointed in this prospect, the mystery of that monster at Hogwarts still on his mind, they could be missing clues. He was having far too much fun though to really offer the complaint, and didn't dare suggest actually hunting the lot down, bringing the girls moods with this.
"Let's go find the birdhouse," Lily suggested, her eyes sparkling with excitement. They spotted a huge dome like structure in the distance which must have been what caught her eye and easily kept pace with her as she kept up a happy babble. Alice suddenly realized this was really the most she'd heard her talk since this began. "I love birds, did you know their bones are hollow, but still incredibly strong. You can't just snap them in half like a chicken bone."
"Do you own an owl?" Frank asked kindly, but to his surprise the smile dropped from her face.
"No, ah, my parents won't allow it." Her answer sounded very diplomatic, but Frank still regretted asking, having brought her mood back so low.
"My sister, really," she tacked on defensively, her tone edging harder every word now. "She, err, I've asked, but she hates animals, and my parents, err, I mean I have to respect her wishes too."
"Must be hard having siblings," Alice offered.
"Yeah," she agreed, her hand trailing up to catch strands of her hair now and playing with it, walking along at a much calmer pace so to stay even with them now. "She, ah, doesn't like that I can do magic but she can't. It's, been hard to talk to her lately. Last time we really did was our last trip to the zoo, first summer back from Hogwarts. It's like she forgot where I'd been gone all year, and we just talked and had fun all day. Even though she took no interest in the animals, we played games watching Muggles pass by and mum and dad let us even go off ahead of them a bit to show they trusted us being bigger. Then we went to the birdhouse, and I saw the most beautiful owl in there! I started telling her about all the ones at school, and -" She stopped there, both in speech and walking, staying frozen on the spot in front of a cart advertising plushies for all sorts of critters to see in this zoo.
Then she blinked as if coming back to reality and gave them a very guilty look. "Sorry, looks like I'm always putting my foot in my mouth no matter the company. I'll just let you two-"
"Don't be silly," Alice said at once, reaching out and taking her hand with the best smile she could offer. "As if we're going to let you off on your own after spilling your guts like that. Your sister's a twat for not wanting to hear about your life, but we'd love to."
Frank gave an encouraging smile as well, thinking the poor girl needed some fun in her life. Between such a home life and someone like Snape for a friend, she probably didn't get much. "We don't have to go to the bird house, how about we find the food court?"
"No, I want to," she insisted, her eyes lighting with some spark again. "I really did love the place, it's so exotic and probably as close as I'll ever get to seeing the rain forest. Err, it's also on the way to the restaurants," she offered herself.
"Sounds perfect," Alice agreed, now the one dragging both of them along.
Remus and Sirius were unintentionally taking turns watching each other. It was a miracle they'd managed to keep their school bags on them all this time, but when Sirius realized he had, he'd slipped the book into it without a second glance yet, and that had been almost an hour ago now. Finally he could just enjoy some time out, and some alone time with Remus.
The two had already stopped and had a good snog once already, before the sound of something had drawn their startled attention. It didn't sound particularly threatening, and in fact it turned out to be a lion attempting to mimic a roar, though it more sounded like a giant cat hacking up a hairball. Remus had dragged Sirius over and began mocking the beast, and the proud cat actually responded in kind. Sirius nearly fell to the ground laughing as the two kept 'roaring' at each other for a good few minutes.
Then the two had taken off to actually find their mates, looking first in the gorilla house where they'd expected to find them. They did indeed spot the apes, but in the very back hiding in the shaded trees and various equipment they had available to play in. Then they'd been sidetracked at where the warthogs were rummaging about, Sirius being genuinely amazed how tough they looked compared to the bacon he was craving.
Remus had to drag Sirius away from the anteater, while Padfoot still insisted he wanted a closer look at such an odd creature and surely it wouldn't run if he turned into a friendlier dog. They had another good pass at each other before they realized they had an audience in front of the lemurs, and still red faced and fixing their clothes from that, they finally stumbled across their friends gazing at some naked mole-rats.
"There you two are, we been looking all over!" James called in excitement.
"What's with you two, you look all hot and bothered," Peter agreed. There was an odd look in his eye as he saw the pair and then looked back at James, but both ignored him and the question.
"Probably walked right past each other in a place this size," Sirius said off hand. "Let's go find that place Harry mentioned, where we can get some ice cream around here."
They all stopped and had some fun in front of the tigers, each bidding how far they could get in before the big cat realized they were there. Peter insisted he'd make it the farthest, without becoming a meal. Then they came across a bear enclosure, two huge beasts tossing each other about inside. It seemed in good fun, for the animals.
"Come on, we run around with a werewolf once a month, I'll bet I can take them!" James insisted, now more than willing to levitate himself into the enclosure and give it a go.
"Prongs, you are literally something they'd have a joy eating," Peter tried to protest.
"Not if he has backup!" Sirius insisted, bouncing on his heels in preparation.
"You two idiots are going to be murdered and then we're going to be zapped around with corpses," Remus pleasantly informed them. "Please, let's go have some lunch, and then we can come back," he quickly pacified.
They were still happily bickering about it when they found a good sized restaurant and went into the cool air with gratitude, raiding the kitchens for the sweet treats and each making their own scoop before Sirius finally took a grateful seat at a table and digging into the bag for the book.
"So you weren't reading that this whole time?" Peter asked with interest.
"Nah," Remus shrugged, "was just having some jollies about the place like you two."
"I'd been wondering if we'd just get yanked out of here before we'd find you two," James rolled his eyes.
Sirius ignored him too as he finally got started reading the chapter title.
"Glory Black, we could hear you outside, can you yell that any louder," Smith said as she poked her head inside, her face flushed from heat as well but looking almost grateful to have found them.
"You just getting started on that?" Longbottom asked as he came inside as well along with Evans, all three clutching stuffed parrots.
"Yep, glad you could join us," James smiled and very obviously moved himself over to make room for them, her, nearly pushing Peter out of his seat in the process.
Peter scowled and shoved him back just as hard, James nearly face planting his ice cream.
Ignoring the two making snipping comments at each other now, the three sat around comfortably, though not nearly as far away as they could. James still beamed at the proximity, wishing they could spend the rest of this reading adventure here, it was clearly putting Evans in a good mood, she was even smiling as Sirius started off and it didn't even dim that much as the Muggleborns in the school were described during this monster fear.
Regulus spent the entire time staring at penguins. They were funny little things, he'd instantly decided, and had been captivated at once by the flightless birds zooming through the water at such speeds. For a moment he'd even tried to see if he could run faster and been amazed the bird swam the length of it's glass before he could do any such thing. Smiling as the one he'd locked eyes on darted away, he tried to circle around and follow it, finding a nice large tree he could sit under and observe the whole area.
He was sure if a Muggle were to come along he'd be terribly scolded, he'd had to clamber over a large ridge right into the enclosure and several of the birds came up to him within reach, clicking their beaks and eyeing him for food. When he offered nothing they lost interest and began preening each other, the splash of water as the bodies leaped free of their miniature ocean the only noise he heard until Sirius finally began reading the next part of the chapter.
His voice had been so clear Regulus had startled, scattering all the webbed critters that had gone near him back into the water, but when he looked around, there was still no one in sight. Sighing and inching himself further a bit more so that his feet nearly touched the clear surface, he relaxed again and let himself enjoy the tale from a distance for once. He couldn't hear the commentary going along, to which he was grateful for. He could almost imagine it all anyways, his idiot of a brother and his friends laughing about the Potter kid causing trouble in Snape's class, Smith and Longbottom being happy about everything and chatting about the good merits of a dueling club. By the time the chapter even got to the part of Harry attending it Regulus was so relaxed he'd even slipped his shoes off and dipped his feet in the water, surprised by how pleasantly warm it was.
Hearing of Harry actively speaking Parseltongue was of great interest to him, his fascination with Potters child growing all the more as he took control of the situation and spoke the language he'd only heard rumor the Dark Lord could as well. Knowing the child could and actively hearing him do it twice now was enthralling, what his family would give if he could do such a thing as well! Potter and his friends treated it like some bad thing, and Regulus just had to scoff, those kids didn't know how good their life could be if they'd just be a bit smarter, instead all three reminded him of his idiotic brother.
The idea of something happening to a ghost did get his attention, a chill sweeping through him that had nothing to do with the warm sun still beating down. He couldn't blame that Ernie fellow for thinking Harry had done it given the circumstances, but a pureblood should be smarter than that! He should realize you should always look at more options available than just blaming the obvious source, shouldn't he? He was really starting to question that, considering that Hermione friend of Potter's obviously knew better but so many purebloods didn't. Then he swallowed and looked around again, waiting for his mother or one of his friends from school to spot him having such traitorous thoughts-
He cursed and jumped straight out of the enclosure in surprise, not because Potter was going to see the headmaster, but a penguin had taken a nip at his foot, apparently under the delusion it was a snack rather than toes. He drew his wand and took aim at the pestilent bird, but lowered it at the last second as he conceded he had been asking for such a thing to be happening. Then he was pulled away altogether.
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highqueenofelfhame · 5 years
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25 Days of Christmas: Day Three.
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There had been a sinking feeling in my stomach all day from the second I had spotted Rhysand Asterie across the street. He had been laughing at something his cousin and my best friend Morrigan said, everything about him radiating such a beautiful energy that I wanted to drown in it. A long time ago, we had maybe been a thing, maybe had a future, and then I’d moved away for college and despite our best efforts we couldn’t make it work. To say he was my first love was an understatement. He was my first, current, and future love. I just hadn’t realized it until this morning.
Beside me, Tamlin had an arm thrown around my shoulder. His fingers were brushing swirls along my upper arm and I was tense and uncomfortable. Nauseous. Touching him felt wrong when you realize what it was you wanted your future to look like. Especially when your future had bronze skin, black hair, and eyes such a shade of blue that I swear on all that is holy you can make out constellations in the silver reflections in them. Rhysand was the exact opposite of Tamlin. Tamlin was the golden boy, he was like a god of spring with his golden hair and bright green eyes to Rhysand’s dark demeanor and darker reputation.
Except that the reputation wasn’t anywhere close to true, and there were only about six people in the entire world that knew so. Tamlin wasn’t one of them.
The room was full of my family, my three sisters and their respective fiance’s. Both of them were garbage excuses for men, but neither of them were ready to hear so. Tomas and Greyson were awful, treated my sisters awful, but in our small town outside of Prythian they were all any of us really knew. Had I never moved to Prythian in the first place, I probably would have married Isaac. Not that it would have been bad, Isaac wasn’t the worst of of the men our village had to offer, but I had the sinking feeling that I wouldn’t ever be happy. Just like I wouldn’t be happy with Tamlin.
Just like I would be ending our relationship as soon as he dropped me off at my apartment later on tonight.
Of all the things that I didn’t see coming, it was when during the gift exchange Tamlin exchanged a small glance with my father. It was something he didn’t think I noticed, but I had, and I only became more and more alarmed by the second when he got to his feet in front of me.
Our relationship had been great, at first. In the beginning he had treated me so well that I couldn’t really imagine being with anyone else - save the nights that memories of Rhysand woke me under the cover of the moon. Tamlin had been kind, he was handsome, and up until a few months ago he had been great. Our relationship wasn't perfect, but the steep decline in his behavior was directly linked to him being in love with me and scared I was going to leave him for someone else. I was half certain that Lucien had had something about my relationship with Rhys to him at some point, a relationship I’d never talked to him about, and that was why he got so uptight. I didn’t have proof that he knew, though. I just knew that somewhere down the line he had an issue with someone named Rhysand and judging by literally everything he said, I knew it was my Rhysand. So I kept my mouth shut.
So now, with Tamlin giving some form of a grand speech that ended with him kneeling in front of where I sat on the couch, I couldn’t hear a single thing. There was a certain roaring in my ears, a certain level of tone-deafness that had swept through my brain and blocked out all thought that didn’t revolve around Rhys. It was a miracle I even caught his question at all.
Will you marry me? His lips mouthed, and before I could stop myself, in front of my entire family, I said no.
Not only did I say no, I said it so quickly that it was unmistakably a denial. The ring was not at all my type - a large emerald on a yellow gold band that didn’t suit my complexion or my personality whatsoever. If it fit anyone, it fit Tamlin, but I’m sure that was the point he was trying to make.
“No,” I said again when he reached for my hand, my head shaking still as I stumbled to my feet and ran out of my father’s house and left the man I had spent the last eighteen months with. I could hear him coming after me but I didn’t stop until I was in my car and speeding out of the driveway, away from the lights that my dad had decorated the outside of the house, away from my siblings and their gross fiances that I couldn’t stand.
I wasn’t going to settle. I refused to settle.
I didn’t even realize where I was going until I was in front of his house. Several cars were parked outside but it didn’t really matter, not when I started ringing the doorbell with shaking hands. It was freezing out and I wasn’t wearing a jacket. In fact, despite the falling snow, my dress was short sleeved and I’d not grabbed my shawl on the way out the door.
“Feyre?”
“Cassian. I -- Rhysand? Is he here?” It felt like a stupid question. It was Rhys’s house, of course he was likely inside, but Cassian nodded and moved to let me inside. I marched in on a mission, ignoring everyone until I saw him leaning back in a chair, tossing a small box over to Amren. Whatever was inside had pleased her immensely, for she gave him a wicked grin and pulled the jewelry from the box. “Rhys?”
I hadn’t intended for my voice to come out so breathlessly, but here I was hardly breathing as he stood and strode over to me. There was worry written all over his face, carefully taking me in as though looking for some sort of injury that he wouldn’t find. Physically, I was fine. Emotionally I was wrecked and wanted him to hold me until I felt whole again.
“Feyre, darling, what are you doing here?”
“He um,” I paused and had half the mind to ask him to go somewhere more private but I couldn’t get the words out. “Tamlin proposed. In front of my family. I saw you this morning. Outside of Rita’s  and I haven’t been able to get you out ever since and I… I said no. In front of everyone, the ring was… I said no. I said no and then ran out and ran here and I’m hoping. Hoping that maybe you hoped I would show up here and that I would say no when he asked me to marry him. Did you? Hope?” My cheeks were flushed and burning as I stared up at him. His eyes were so intense, staring back down at me with such fervor that it made me cheeks heat even more.
“Only for the last four years,” Cassian drawled from behind me, and I huffed a laugh. But still, I needed to hear it from Rhys. My leg bounced nervously as I waited, waited, waited, until his lips finally curved up into a smile.
Still grinning, he pressed a kiss to my forehead and whispered, “Only for the last four years.”
@starseternalnighttriumphant @musicmaam @kandasboi @empire-of-wildfire @schmlip-scribble @myfeyrelady @the-regal-warrior @tangledraysofsunshine @shyvioletcat​ @rowaelin-feysand​ i’m so sorry 
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ahtohallan-calling · 4 years
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chapter 25 of don’t read the last page is here!
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[kristanna / m / multichap / modern au with actress!anna and vetstudent!kristoff]
september 21st
It was, to be frank, not the sort of wedding Anna had dreamed of growing up. For one thing, she didn’t even have any white clothes left that fit; for another, the courthouse still sort of smelled like lemon Pine-Sol.
But her sister was there to walk her in, though there wasn’t really an aisle, and Honey and Ryder and Sven and Kristoff’s parents and siblings were all grinning from ear to ear-- well, crying and blowing her nose, in Bulda’s case-- and she did at least have the bouquet of sunflowers that was her one non-negotiable.
One thing, though, was the same thing-- same person-- she had always imagined, and when he blinked back tears as he slid the ring onto her finger she couldn’t help but think of her teenaged self scribbling furiously in her diary about how she’d wear a ballgown and he’d wear a tux and there’d be sunflowers and confetti and doves--
“I do,” Kristoff said, his voice thick with emotion, and really, that was all that mattered.
“Me, too,” she replied, without even thinking, and when he grinned in response as the officiant chuckled, she knew he was thinking the same.
---
october 17th
Kristoff came home from the clinic and found Anna sitting on the edge of their bed, staring off into space. “Everything okay, baby?”
She nodded. “Just...thinking about the premiere again. They sent the dress over again, said they tailored it for how big I’ll be in a couple weeks. And the doctor said it’s okay. I mean, he wants me to come in the day before, just to make sure, but…”
Anna bit her lip, waiting for a reply. A familiar flicker of protective, instinctive worry flared in his chest, but Kristoff held his tongue and waited for it to settle, the way he’d learned was-- especially now-- so important to making sure she felt heard.
And she kept quiet; he knew she was fighting the urge to ramble to fill the silence, to try and convince him of something before he’d even said he might disagree.
They were still learning, and from what his mother had told him, he knew they still would be for the rest of their lives. And of course there were still the silly arguments over what to watch on TV (usually ending in them watching nothing at all and instead kissing on the sofa while an alien show played in the background) and who was snoring louder (Anna, these days because of the strange poses she struck to try and sleep) and who had eaten the last of the pretzels (which usually ended with them both realizing it’d happened while they were watching the aforementioned alien shows).
But the big things, the ones that mattered-- they were careful, now, more than ever, to make sure that fight was never quite the right word for what transpired.
Kristoff sat beside her, taking her hand. “I mean, there’s no point in me explaining all the things that could go wrong, is there?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I promise, I’ve thought about all of them pretty much, like, nonstop,” she said, and he squeezed her hand in response.
Anna’s gaze drifted over to the emerald green dress hanging on the back of the closet door. Kristoff watched her for a moment before saying softly, “But you still want to go.”
She nodded, biting her lip again.
“Can I ask why it feels this important to you?”
He looked over and saw tears were beginning to sparkle in her eyes. “What if this is my only shot, Kris?”
“Your only shot at what?”
“At getting to do something like this. What if I never get a big movie part again? Or what if the baby comes, and I just decide to only be a mom and never act again? And it’s like...I’m not angry about it or anything, you know? Like I love him, and I love you, but this is still...it’s still what I’ve been working for my whole life. And all the shit I put up with filming this, and the stuff with Hans...part of me feels like it’ll be for nothing if I don’t go. And I know that’s stupid, but--”
“Not stupid,” Kristoff interrupted, and she sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. “It makes perfect sense.”
“I know it’s, like, scary to think that I could just go into labor on the red carpet. And maybe I’m a bad mom for even--”
“Anna. Don’t even think that, okay?”
She sniffled, and he lifted his arm to wrap it around her shoulders. “You’re allowed to be more than a mom,” he said as she leaned into him. “And you’re allowed to want things for yourself, especially really big important things like this. And I want them for you, too.”
“I know it makes you nervous, though,” she said softly. “That something would go wrong.”
“I’ve been nervous about that the whole time. But it’s up to you, baby. Well-- you and the doctor, I guess, but if he says you’re in the clear…”
She tilted her head to kiss his shoulder. “And it’s only for the red carpet bit. No way am I sitting through a three hour movie in a ballgown. Which, speaking of--”
She hopped up and waddled towards the bathroom, and Kristoff couldn’t help but laugh as he called after her, “Guess I ought to see if my suit from New Year’s still fits, eh?”
---
november 1
“Feels kind of full circle, don’t you think?” Anna mused as Honey carefully swiped blush onto her cheeks.
“What does?” Kristoff asked from where he was seated in the recliner, nervously fiddling with his cufflinks.
“I mean, a year ago today is when my first movie dropped, and now today is my first red carpet premiere.”
“Oh, shit, it’s only been a year?”
Anna giggled. “You’re telling me. I feel like I’ve already been pregnant that long.”
Honey rolled her eyes. “Hold still, Anna.”
“Sorry, sorry! Thanks again for doing this, by the way. I know it had to’ve been a pain in the ass for you to get ready so early and then come all the way up here.”
Her friend shrugged as she sorted through her stacks of highlighters. “More of a pain in the ass if someone who doesn’t know your face like I do messed you up. And anyway, you know the real reason I agreed to this. Come on, spill the beans.”
“I thought Anna was kidding about bribing you with that,” Kristoff said, raising his eyebrows. “I mean, we didn’t even tell Sven yet.”
“She was not kidding, but I think you’ll see my work is worth the price. C’mon, Anna, turn around and show the husband how gorgeous you look.”
She did so, and his eyes went wide. “Oh, shit.”
“Good oh shit?” Anna asked nervously.
Honey snorted. “Do you really have to ask that when it’s me doing this? Turn back and let me do your lipstick.”
Anna held still as Honey carefully daubed the scarlet shade they’d settled on together onto her lips. “So, since Anna’s occupied at the moment...what’d you guys pick?”
“Well, we were trying to find something to watch one night, and we both have the same favorite kids’ movie, and it just happened to be on, so we--”
“I didn’t ask for the story, Bjorgman. What are you naming my nephew?”
He grinned. “Milo.”
---
God, Anna had always been gorgeous, but the color of her gown made her hair gleam even more than usual, and Honey had done just enough makeup to bring out her eyes without hiding the way she was glowing these days-- shit, he’d thought that was just something books said, but--
There was a tug at his sleeve. “Kristoff? Did you hear me?”
He blinked, startled. “What?”
Anna smirked, well aware of what had been distracting him. “Hans just got here. Casey says two more minutes, then we’re up. She says that’s the perfect amount of time to make sure we completely upstage him.
He whistled. “Damn. Do you think Lena would have ever come up with something like that?”
“Absofuckinglutely not.” She grinned and set a hand on the side of her belly. “I think Milo’s excited, too.”
Kristoff laughed and set his hand next to hers; sure enough, there came a brief volley of kicks against the palm of his hand. “As long as you stay in there for a little while longer, buddy, kick all you want.”
“Easy for you to say,” Anna muttered. “Oh-- she just texted again. Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” he said as she signalled the chauffeur to open her door. 
Kristoff had to admit he was a little bit awestruck at just how gracefully she managed to emerge from the limo; he nearly tripped over his own feet, and he wasn’t even thirty-seven weeks pregnant.
He was by her side immediately, setting a hand on the small of her back, and not a moment too soon; it was as if their arrival was some kind of signal for the hundreds of photographers and reporters and celebrities and fans to all turn at once, Hans Westergaard and all his bullshit entirely forgotten.
“By the way,” Anna whispered as they began to walk towards the crowd, “if you hold my hand, Casey says to make sure it’s the right one.”
“What? Why?”
“So people can still see my rings in the pictures,” she said, putting on her best movie star smile as the first reporter reached them.
The next hour or so passed in a blur; they stayed well away from the crowd of fans at the doctor’s advice-- “never know how handsy they’ll get, you know”-- but it still felt a bit like getting swarmed with what felt like every reporter in LA dying to find out more about the sudden wedding and the impending arrival and whether or not Anna thought she’d get an Oscar nod for her part.
She answered every question with grace and charm, and Kristoff did his best to make sure his smile didn’t turn into a grimace, even when a cameraman stepped on the hem of Anna’s skirt.
The reporters left him alone for the most part, until one of them turned suddenly to him and asked, “So, Kristoff, how does it feel to be the internet’s boyfriend?”
“The...what?”
The reporter grinned and held up his phone, showing him a series of memes. He squinted, trying to make sense of it all as Anna held back a laugh. “You’re built like a brick shithouse and you hold puppies for a living. What’s not to love?”
“Um,” he stammered, looking to Anna for guidance.
“What my husband means to say,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief, “is that he’s flattered. And I for one am very grateful I managed to snatch him up before he became such a big star.”
They said their goodbyes quickly after that, and as they continued moving down the red carpet, Kristoff leaned down and muttered, “When were you going to tell me I was the internet’s boyfriend, huh?”
“When you figured out what Instagram was so you could find all the stan accounts for yourself.”
“The...what?”
She giggled and squeezed his hand. “Just smile and wave, honey. And think about the Taco Bell we’re getting after this.”
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