#please don’t hurt yourself on the shattered remains of your childhood magic

[no-song-so-sweet]

I want to talk about Harry Potter.

Well. Sort of. I want to talk about Harry Potter in a roundabout way, in that, I want to talk about the reaction my friend group had when shit started really going down with That Bitch Rowling.

Because Rowling is a horrible person. She’s a TERF, a denier of Nazi Crimes, homophobic, anti-Semitic, the list goes on and on (and most recently, has been attacking a trans soccer manager, if my dash is to be believed? Somehow, she just seems more cartoonishly evil with each passing day). But this isn’t about That Bitch Rowling, not really. Or if it is, she’s merely a footnote in the story.

Harry Potter was, and I think this is true for many of us, a large part of my childhood. While the writing may be mediocre at best, it was wildly influential. I didn’t know a single kid that wasn’t hoping for a letter to Hogwarts. It was a Big Deal for a lot of people, and that included my friend group. My friend group, which is made up of members of the LGBTQ+ community. My friend group, which includes a young lady who we didn’t always know was a lady. I’m sure you can see where this might be going.

The day I got a tear filled phone call about That Bitch Rowling was, frankly, heartbreaking. She was mad because a woman she had respected up until now didn’t respect her. She wanted to get rid of her copies of the books, but didn’t want to donate them. I never want to hear her cry like that again. So I made a decision.

I told her to hold onto her books for just a little while longer. I phoned the group. I figured out when everyone could get together for a weekend, and when I had hammered out dates, I packed up my car, and drove the six hundred miles back to my childhood home.

In the passenger’s seat, was my set of Harry Potter books.

Excluding my trans friend, there were seven of us. I had made a plan, and my father had the space to enact it - I grew up on acres of land; complete with 200 year old oak tree, creek in the woods in the backyard, and a massive fire pit.

Nostalgia and youth, I find, paint everything with a rose tinted hue; if Rowling had just kept her mouth shut, I’m sure many of us would have looked back on the Harry Potter series with some amount of shame. But I don’t think it would have suffered the sort of fall from grace that led us to this point.

The fire pit is important for several reasons. For example, it had been the popular gathering place for my friend group of literal decades at this point. Small towns mean that you know everyone from a very early age. We lived right beside the woods, so we used the fire pit to burn the leaves, and the branches storms took down, of which there were many. And when the first six of my friends rolled down the half mile driveway that day, I had already collect enough wood to get a decent fire going.

Six of my friends. We told the seventh a later time. We wanted to be prepared, and anyway, we all had the same cargo (six sets of seven books joined mine on a rickety folding table). I put them to work collecting more firewood (is it really a good bonfire if you’re not risking setting the barn on fire?).

By the time our last member rolled up, I had a fire going.

She had her set of those damn books too.

(There is a visceral grief that comes from being let down by your childhood heroes, and I fully believe that That Bitch Rowling embodies the phrase “never meet your heroes,” because folks, as a general rule, I am not a fan of burning books. But I was prepared to make an exception.)

We burned our copies of the Harry Potter books that day, all eight of us. They were well read, beaten to hell and back, with cracked spines, and dents in corners, and pieces of the pages missing where we had bent down the corners one too many times. And I won’t lie to anyone. We cried. Tears of sorrow and rage, for the piece of our childhood that we were choosing to give up, because to keep it would be to disrespect the woman we had known and loved for longer than we’d ever had those books.

Letting go sucked. But it was the right thing to do.

When they were gone, we put out the fire, went inside, and built the pillow fort of our dreams. We marathoned Star Wars, and ordered too many pizzas, and had way too much soda. We fell asleep playing Risk, because that’s what our friend choose, and in the morning, I made waffles with chocolate chips and too much maple syrup.

I wanted to talk about this, not just because this is a fond memory for me (even though it is), but because one of my coworkers confessed to me that they hated Rowling, and everything she stood for, and they refused to have anything else to do with the Harry Potter franchise, but they just couldn’t bring themselves to get rid of the books.

I said I was happy to host another book burning.

But I wanted to write this down because I know that sometimes it’s hard to take that final step, to leave behind that last thing. So for anyone who needs to hear it, it’s okay to grieve the things we loose when we grow up. Letting go can be hard, but I promise you’ll end up better off. It’s been awhile since things really went downhill, but I maintain that, in this case, death of the author is nonexistent, and it is better to have loved and then lost, than to hold on too tight.

Don’t hurt yourself on the shattered remains of your childhood magic.

[hallospaceboyy]

My Soul Belongs to You; Part 2

Meeting the Parents

For @galaxy-nerd

Reader takes Lilith to meet her parents, and things turn sour when she tells them who Lilith really is.

Lilith x Female Reader

Lilith had just teleported the both of you to a secluded area not far from your parents’ house. You had spoken to them recently, told them you had found love, and they wouldn’t stop pestering you to meet her. When you broached the subject with Lilith, both of you laying on her large, luxurious bed, you had expected her to refuse instantly. But she didn’t, had agreed, laughed at your shock. Now you both stood on your parents’ street, your nerves hit you with full force, and you glanced down at the mark on your wrist, the sigil that had been burned there when you gave your heart and soul to Lilith that night six months ago, wondering if you should have tried to cover it, but Lilith wouldn’t have let you anyway. You weren’t ashamed at what you had done, have been the happiest you’ve been in the longest time, you were just scared of their reaction. Lilith stood beside you, scrutinizing your face, didn’t need to wonder why you haven’t moved, too attuned to your emotions by now. Lilith wore a form-fitting, red floral dress, and she looked exquisite, lips painted their usual blood red. She reached for your hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

“You don’t have to tell them, you know. I’ve spent many a time playing at being mortal, I can do it for one more night,” Her cool blue eyes searched yours, and they looked almost pleading, knew that she would do this for you if you wanted, but that she didn’t want to. Wanted you to take pride in her for her, for all that she is – and you do.

“No, Lilith. I wont treat you like some dirty little secret. You deserve more than that, and I love you too much for that,” You cup her cheek, and kiss her softly. She gazes at you in earnest then, a softness in her eyes that made your heart skip a beat. She doesn’t answer you, doesn’t have to, you know that she’s grateful, that she loves you too. Even if she isn't brave enough to say it yet. Taking her hand, you lead her in the direction of the house, taking in a deep breath before knocking on the door.

The door swings open, and your parents stand there to greet you, all welcoming smiles and tight hugs, even hug Lilith after introducing themselves and you smirk, clearing your throat to cover the giggle at Lilith's stiffness at being manhandled. When everyone is seated, there a silence for a minute or so that almost becomes awkward, until your mother clears her throat and turns her attention to Lilith.

“So, you’re the lovely lady that’s made our Y/N so happy! It really is lovely to finally meet you,”

“Likewise,” Lilith smiled, and it looked genuine, ever the actress. “Y/N pleases me very much,”

Both of your parents blink in surprise at Lilith's statement, whether shocked by the formality, or the brazen sexual innuendo, you’ll never know, but you shoot Lilith what you hope is a stern look, and she simply smirks, averting her eyes to the carpet. You can see Lilith growing bored of the small talk that ensues, crossing and uncrossing her legs, eyes darting around the room, examining framed pictures on the walls. She smiles fondly at the childhood photos of you, suddenly standing to look closer at a photo of you as a toddler, grinning on a sunny day beside a small paddling pool.

“I see you’ve always been adorable,” and you all laugh, and things almost feel a little less forced. Almost.

“Is that a tattoo on your wrist?!” Your father exclaims, and all eyes fall to the sigil there. Your fingers instantly move to graze the mark, as you so often did. You'd grown very fond of it. Lilith spins round at the accusatory tone, the pictures no longer seeming so interesting – ready to jump to your aid if necessary.

“Um, I-I...” You fumble for the right words, and you meet Lilith's gaze and she raises her brows, willing you to say something, and her presence suddenly reassures you, some of your courage returning. “No, it’s not a tattoo... it’s...” You let out a sigh of frustration, rubbing your temples. Both parents watch you now, faces etched with confusion.

“There’s something I need to tell you both about Lilith. She’s not exactly... human. You’re going to think I’m crazy, but just... hear me out,”

Your parents look from each other, to Lilith, back to you, and they both start to laugh. They soon trail off when you and Lilith don’t join them, and Lilith still stands awkwardly by the wall, shuffling her feet. “W-What are you taking about, Y/N? You can’t be serious,” Your mum says incredulously.

“Mum, I am. Lilith is... a demoness. She was the first wife of Adam, exiled from Eden for refusing to be subservient, she was the first witch, and now she has devotees of her own... and I’m one of them. I gave my heart and soul to her, and got hers in return,” You swallow thickly. Your parents remain silent, and you look to Lilith. “You’re going to have to show them. Do something to prove it, please,”

Lilith nods. “Alright... if they freak out, I can always eat them,” She mutters, and you give her a stern look.

“You're not eating my parents, Lilith. Just do something magic,” Lilith rolls her eyes, and with a flick of her wrist, the mugs of tea on the table in front of you all float a few inches from the surface, then begin circling, so fast they are no more than a blur, and your parents look terrified now.

“She's not going to hurt you, Mum, Dad,”

Suddenly your father jumps up, eyes wide with fury, storming to Lilith and pointing a finger in her face. “I don’t know what the HELL you are, or what you’ve done to our daughter, but you’re not taking her from us! She's a good girl!” He shouts, face red with anger, and spittle lands on Lilith's face and it twists in disgust, and you jump up yourself, stepping in front of the brunette, bringing your arm out to push her behind you. The mugs fly from their formation, shattering against the walls, tea coating the pale paint in ugly stains. Your mother startles at the smash of the china, and rises from the sofa to stand behind your father, still shaking with fury and glaring at Lilith over your shoulder.

“I can assure you Mr Y/L/N, I’ve done nothing to your daughter except love her. Her soul may belong to me, but it was willingly given. And yes, she is a very good girl,” She smirks devilishly then, and your father lunges forward, tries to push you out of the way but you push him back. You glance at Lilith and see the rage bubbling to the surface now, her eyes are dark, and you’re suddenly not sure who you’re protecting. You stand your ground, remaining a barrier between them.

“Please, stop! Lilith is kind, and gentle. She would never hurt me, never has and never will. I know this is a lot to take in, but she’s not some monster! I love her, very much, and no amount of violence is going to change that,” You feel Lilith's slender hand grip yours, and your father takes a step back, looking defeated, deflated. “Try and hurt her again, and I’m gone. And it wont be Lilith taking me away from you, it’ll be you pushing me away,” Your voice shakes, and you clench your jaw, fighting back tears.

“Now, I think it's best if we go. Give you both some time to think. We can come back, if you want us to. Another time,” You turn to Lilith and send her a curt nod, and her rage is gone, replaced by adoration and affection at your defence of her. You feel the rush as she teleports you both away, back to her bedroom, and the scent of brimstone, and your entire being visibly relaxes.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know. Antagonise them, for me,” Her voice is soft, and she wraps her arms around you as your arms snake around her waist, seeking comfort in her warmth, cheek resting on her clavicle.

“Of course I did. It was either that or let you play fisticuffs with my dad, and I’m not having him hurt you, or vice versa,” You close your eyes, a tension headache already finding it’s way behind your lids. “I couldn’t bear it. Him talking about you like you're some creature to be feared, accusing our relationship of being the product of bloody Stockholm Syndrome,” Lilith chuckles, pressing a firm kiss to your head.

“They may never understand, Y/N. Is that really what you want, a rift like that? Just for me?”

“I want to be with you, Lilith. They’ll either come around or they won't. But I made you a promise that I intend to keep,” You raise your wrist, stroking your fingers over the delicate mark, and Lilith smiles, and kisses it, sending a jolt of warmth through you. You could swear you saw her eyes growing wet.

“I love you, Y/N,” She whispers, and there’s a vulnerability there that you’ve never seen before, and you cup her face and press your lips to hers.

[writingonesdreams]

Backstory Weeks: Siblings - 5th Magic

5th Magic Intro 

For @yourocsbackstory​ week 4: siblings. Jumping on at a very fitting spot. 

Children are taken by the military to be trained for the Mage War. Acacia is of age and the plan is to prevent it. But plans don't always work out - and no one is touching Acacia’s little brother. 

I run from my room when I heared the door opening. They are here.

My parent's worst nightmare finally happening.

The military officers are young sympathetic men that ask, quite politely, to get to see the children for their magic talents.

Children develop their magic when they are about 3 years old. Without practise the ability disappears in puberty. That's why they try to check at the kids at this age, because those are the ones who trained and mastered it to the point it stayed with them.

I'm 14 years old, right on the edge.

We have been preparing for this. Cutting my out of the Magic Practice subjects at school, not letting me use it in public, shutting the door to nosey friends and neighbours. So that I wouldn't be dragged away. Wouldn't be made a soldier in the very present Mage War.

"Come here, Acacia." My mother's voice is my clue. Act innocent. Inconspicuous. You don't have any magic in you.

It's from her manual of 'How to deny the most important part of yourself, so they don't take over it'.

I step down the steps, greeting the soldiers with a nervous smile and fidgeting hands.

They are soldiers, it's not abnormal to be uncomfortable. I'm a good girl, an obedient daughter, with good reputation. The plan should work just fine.

My brother Casey is sitting in the hall, holding his toys, but not playing. He is trying to listen to the action, knowing his part is not to take part.

I walk by him, brushing a hand on his hair. With his 10 years, he is in no danger of being scouted just yet.

"The reports from school show your eldest daughter has very poor results in magic. Is it, true, Acacia? You have lost the connection with your magic?" The older soldier asks directly, looking me up and down.

"Yes." I look away, playing the shy girl.

"That's a very shameful thing to let happen," he says it to me, but turns to glare at my parents. "Considering the situation our side is in? Every family is required to contribute with a child for the sake of a free future. You belong to the Aural territory. Our aural mages are fighting for all of us against the oppression of the other Mage Types. How can you endanger the future of the nation - of your own children - like this?"

My mother and father obediently turn to sad and guilty expressions. It's a well played game. They couldn't care less about the "territory" they belong to. They aren't mages and there is no cause worth risking the safety of their children.

The soldiers turn to leave. There isn't really much they can do in such a case.

It's then that my brother runs up to my mother, relieved and happy the plan has worked as we trained it. The second soldier turns abruptly and grabs him by the arm.

"Since you left your eldest child, the one required for the service, give up her magic, you have proven yourself unreliable to raise magic talent in your offsprings. You have failed in your citizen obligations. We will have to take the second child before his time, to make sure his talents don't go to waste."

There is a smile in the the man's voice, though his expression remains neutral as he drags my brother to the door.

No. Please no. Not him!

Casey starts to scream, squirming, kicking, trying to free himself from the hold. My mother lungs behind the soldier, but the other stands in her way, clutching her shoulders. My father raises his voice as well.

The room turns to chaos, but I almost can't hear them. Time seems to stop, as the heartbeat in my ears drowns everything else.

My brother will be taken, because I couldn't be. My 10 year old brother, with blond wild hair and a carefree smile, warm brown eyes that are michevous and kind at the same time. Being shaped in the military? So soon? Before he had his childhood, a proper chance to grow up?

I can't let it happen.

The force that raises from my body is a familiar one. The golden aura surrounds me in a second, natural and smooth like ice. It springs out into every direction, pushing the soldiers away, lifting them abruptly and throwing them through the wide kitchen window.

Glass shatters and the screams of the soldiers mix with my mother's as father throws himself over her to protect her.

But they aren't harmed. I would never allow my magic to hurt them. It's an extension of myself, my soul, my will. It never does what I don't want it to do.

Casey knows. He is standing in the middle of the room, free and untouched by the mad whirlwind of manifested golden magic.

His eyes are wide though, as he realises, just as me, how I just changed both our fates. I reach my hand out in his direction, but he is frozen to the spot with horror.

"So she has magic!" The older soldier is already standing up, his face amazed. "I have never seen magic as strong as this! Not from an untrained teenager. This girl is a magic prodigy!"

The younger is right behind him, brushing the glass shard of his uniform with angry expression.

"You are coming with us, Acacia. The law commands it. If you come in peace, we might decide to spare your family from prosecution for attempting to hinder military orders." 

This is exactly what we didn't want them to know. For them to see. The worst case scenario. I look at my parents, my lips trembling. It's over. The plan has failed.

I'm so sorry, mother. But I couldn't have let them take him. I just couldn't.

She is crying already, tears running freely down her cheeks as she stands up with my father's help. Those defeated desperate faces are going to hunt me...

Or not.

I decided in that instant, I won't be a victim. They won't drag a screaming little girl from the overworrying parents that couldn't protect her.

It was my decision. My brother who will be spared. I can do this. I can bear the consequences myself.

So I gulp down the emotion and fear, blink my tears away and strech myself to my full, if not yet complete hight.

"I will just say goodbye."

I cross the room in a few quick strokes, hugging my parents close to me. My father's hand in my hair, my mother's arms wrapped tightly around my waist.

"Don't worry. I will be fine," I whisper into her ear. Not like hope, not in that defeated way people say it, praying it will come true. I say it as a promise, to her and myself, that I can be strong. I can do this. I think she notices the difference. 

Wiggling out of that embrace is still the hardest thing I have ever done.

I hug my brother next. His head doesn't even reach my shoulders yet and he is shaking. I hold him longer, cause he needs it.

"It's okay, Cas. Take care of them. I will be alright." I flash him a smile and the look we exchange is more than thousand words.

I step through the broken window to join the soldiers waiting patiently in our family's garden. I haven't taken anything with me. Things I have won't be of any use for the future that awaits me now.

I left my old cozy life behind, pretending not to be shaken, until I could believe it.

[minniepetals]

String of Fate 03

— summary: they set fire to the world around them but would never let a flame touch her.

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: fluff, angst || poly!au, soulmate!au, mafia!au

— word count: 4.5k

— warnings: none

╰ Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 

"Dahyun? What's wrong?"

Sitting against the edge of the couch, knees up against her face as she sat there, head huddled by her arms, Dahyun looked up at the sound of your voice. You winced at the sight in front of you and instantly felt like crying with just the sight of your best friend's tears.

"Y/N, when you fall for someone, I hope they will love you just as much because you deserve so much better." Hearing the croaky vulnerability in her voice, you were almost instantly right by her side.

"What did he do?" Your brows furrowed, blood boiling with anger as you watched the tears restlessly flow down Dahyun's cheeks. "What the heck did he do?" You demanded.

But Dahyun shook her head, the warrior within her usual self already thrown out the window. "It doesn't matter anymore," she sniffed. "We're over. It just proves that we weren't meant to be."

Clenching your jaw, you felt ready to storm out the apartment. "I'm going to—"

"Please don't," Dahyun told you otherwise as she held your hand back from leaving. "When I said that I needed a shoulder to cry on, I actually meant that."

Sighing sadly at her unusual vulnerable form, you gently wrapped your arms around your best friend. "I'm here. You never deserved this. He doesn't deserve your tears," you said softly, rubbing her head with one hand while the other gently patted her back to help her breath.

You had wanted to talk to her about your own problems but you knew at the moment, it wasn't right. Your best friend who had always been there for you had fallen in love for the first time...and gotten her heart broken as well. Both of you were amateurs in love, knowing nothing of its experience and the painful emotions it gave, which was why you didn't know what to say to her.

You've only ever read and watched romance scenes playing out, never actually experienced them. You didn't know whether it was due to the fear of it or just the fact that you were still waiting.

Still though, seeing your best friend crying over a guy was certainly making you have second guesses on what you were going to do with the seven Bangtan men. If you'd ever see them again.

But they knew you—well, your name at least—and that was something still swarming around your head, amongst the other things.

"This is why I never wanted to try out love."

You sighed sadly. "Honey, how were you supposed to know he'd end up leaving you?"

Dahyun shook her head stubbornly. "I shouldn't had involved myself with him in the first place. I shouldn't had fallen in love."

"Dahyun—"

"I'm so freaking stupid." It was hard to deal with a stubborn Dahyun but with knowing her your whole life, you knew how to handle her. She was going to be like this for some time, regretting on things but eventually forgetting it in the end.

"It's going to take some time to forget this," you nodded empathetically with acknowledgement. "But I hope that you know that you have me. I may not know anything about relationships and stuff, but I'm here."

Slightly letting her go, you looked into your best friend's eyes to show her you were serious. Of course Dahyun had already knew that but still, you could tell showing her your support and comfort would make her feel better.

She smiled a little at you, her lips tight together while her eyes stared at you with curiosity. "You were with them, weren't you?"

Them.

Did she knew? But how did she?

"Whatever you choose to do," she continued on, "whether it involves them or you ignoring every sign, I hope you understand that fate will always work it's way for you to be happy again."

You frowned, brows furrowing in confusion at your friend's words. "What are you doing? I'm supposed to be the one comforting you in this situation, not the other way around."

Dahyun chuckled lightly. "My duty as your best friend is to stay by your side and support you throughout your life."

You shook your head as you went on to wipe away her remaining tears still stained on her soft cheeks. "Your duty can be to stay by my side, but you should live your own life as well. For your own self, not for anyone else's. I know we've been together since childhood," you said, tucking back some strands of hair behind her ear, "and that while your parents died and my father took you in, you don't need to keep feeling like it's your duty to do anything for me. We're practically sisters. It's okay for you to go on your own without worrying about me. I'll be alright, and so will you."

In some ways, Dahyun felt like your older sister, in another way, she was younger. Either way, the two of you had taken care of each other for quite some time and you couldn't imagine your life without having her as your best friend by your side. She was there for you through your rough days, helping you sort yourself out, she knew you more than anyone. Maybe the two of you had been best friend's in your past lives as well, perhaps that was why you felt so close and connected to Dahyun.

"You never change," she smiled a genuine smile, the light finally reaching her eyes as she went on to ruffle your hair. "Thank you, Y/N."

"What are friends for?"

~~

Night after night, you've had nightmares of warship. Each time, you could feel your heart shattering into fragments, waiting for you to find your source so that they could mend back once more. If it weren't for you waking up each morning, you could've swore the wars were for real. Everything felt surreal, from the touches you felt, to the pains that stabbed through you. You couldn't understand it, why you kept receiving the same dream over and over from the night you had met them.

The battle cries and the flying arrows, you could still hear them as you went about your day acting as if everything was fine. But everything weren't, everything was completely wrong.

It was a week and two days later after your last meeting with Bangtan.

Yes, you were counting. You didn't know why but it just felt like the days were only dragging along. You dreaded the next day to come and a piece of you felt missing like that moment you left their place—only it was worse. Something didn't felt right and you wanted to fix it but had absolutely no idea what could be the reason to your distress. In your friend's case, she looked alright in the eyes of others but you knew she was dying inside, hoping and wishing the pain could just go away. At least she knew what her problem was.

You were walking down the same street you had last met Hoseok, feeling even more emptier than before. You could still remember those eyes, those warm eyes that had casted a spell on you and made sure you were alright despite your fear of him. Why were you scared? Even though he was a mafia, you knew his only intention was to help you out.

The same went for Jin as well, although you had never intended to look like you were scared of him, but you felt he had probably assumed that fear due to you leaving. And perhaps everyone else felt the same as well, that you were fearful of them.

But then again, why would their feelings matter?

You had never really cared much before, simply going about your days and ignoring every sign of love interest that could had happened if you looked back, cared, and took a moment to enjoy them. Yet something within you had always told you to keep going, to move on with your life even as some men might've shown interest, and to just leave them all because you were going to get the best if you waited for fate to do its job.

Yet now that seven strangers had came into your life, seven mafias, you've suddenly began to feel yourself drawn to them. It felt so unfair, how they seemed to know so much about you with just the warmth in their eyes, while you knew nothing.

Just trying to hold onto those fragments of broken pieces, hoping for it to magically form back. But you knew it wasn't going to be easy. You had to first find out your reason for your shattered heart.

You had to first find out who they were.

Because a part of you felt as if the source came from them, especially as you took a moment to stop walking in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at your hand where the gash should had been. Whoever they were, you needed to know.

When you looked back up from your hand, you saw a strange man standing just a few yards from you, eyes staring right at you without wavering a bit. Instead of panicking, you stayed there standing still, looking right back at his brown eyes. You stared at him, thinking back to that moment with you and Jin, alone in his room as he examined your arm with reassuring words to help keep you calm.

Looking back on it, he really did showed you nothing but kindness. Yet there you were, running away without an explanation. He deserved your explanation, he deserved to hear your reason out rather than to suddenly be left alone feeling as if he had done wrong.

Because he didn't.

You should had told him you only left because you had to, because of an issue. You should had assured him it wasn't because of him, that you hadn't at all been afraid of him. But you could still remember that hurt in his eyes, the ones that had downcast the moment you asked him for the exit. You should had said something else. Now you wondered if you'd ever see him, or any of them again.

It was then when you realized who the person you were staring at was.

Min Yoongi.

Mysterious out of them all, yet also had that same warmth and, at the same time like the rest of them, the pain filled his eyes as well. You took a step forward, wishing, hoping you could touch him. Yet the second you blinked, he was long gone, as if the man had never been there in the first place.

And that was when you finally panicked.

Your head swerved around, body turning and eyes searching for those familiar pair of eyes. Maybe it had been your imagination all along. Maybe everything had been your imagination. Perhaps because you had been alone for so long, you were craving for someone to come into your life to complete it, only to face not one but seven handsome strangers.

But you lost it and it was all your fault.

The tears wavered at your waterline, waiting to fall, and as you tried to blink them away, they only fell along your cheeks.

Where are you? Please, this can't be my imagination.

Maybe that was how Jin had felt when you left without an explanation. Yoongi showed up only for you to blink and he was gone before your eyes. How could you had let him go? Why didn't you called out his name when you saw him? Why weren't you fast enough?

You could still feel his presence near. You just knew Yoongi was there despite the lack of his actual presence, but he was there...somewhere.

"Yoongi," you called out softly, and you could've sworn a light gust of wind blew past you as if delivering the message of reassurance that Yoongi was really there. Only, he didn't show you his presence.

"Yoongi," you repeated once more, a little more desperately this time. But as another gust of wind blew past you, it delivered only a goodbye.

And you were left with a small flower sitting just inches from your feet. You had always been interested in flowers and their meanings, so when you went to pick up the small flower, you were quick to realize what it was.

Forget-me-not.

~~

The annual flower show had always been your favorite part of the year, but it was always so busy as well. Being a florist had its benefits, you've loved flowers since the moment you laid your eyes on one and never once had you stray away from that love. Still, even as you busied yourself, running all over the place to make sure everything was perfect for the flower show, your mind couldn't get off the forgot-me-not flower. They said that the one who gave the flower meant as a symbol for a strong love, to, like the flower's name, never forget them.

Was there something you were missing? Surely Yoongi, or any of the guys for that matter, was someone you've never met before, right? But the familiarity still couldn't get past your mind and you were left only to stare at the forget-me-not flower in front of you.

"Y/N, we're opening in two minutes!" You heard your boss yelling over and quickly remembered the situation you were in.

Gasping, you quickly apologized to her, following behind her to greet the upcoming guests.

It was a tiring yet exciting day, all of it worth it in the end as you walked home with a bouquet of flowers for your hard work. Night had already fallen and the only sources of lights were from the street light with occasional passing cars here and there.

You couldn't wait to just go home and fall asleep, that was the only motivation you had as each passing steps you took grew a bit more eager than the last.

Until you slowed down your steps after seeing a familiar figure just across the street. His body glowed under the street lamp, watching you with a piercing gaze. He wore a simple black suit yet the style on him made him looked so much more handsome than he already was.

You watched him silently from where you stood but was quick to call out his name the second the man took a step away.

"Wait! Jin!" You gasped but Jin didn't waited.

So recklessly, you ran onto the road, dropping your bouquet of flowers and not caring to watch for vehicles passing by, that being the last thing on your mind as your only concern was for you to reach Jin in time. It couldn't end up like Yoongi, it couldn't had been your imagination, nor could you let him go that easily either. You felt so desperate to reach him so that you could make things right and to clear up the misunderstandings he had with you.

The least you had expected was for you to trip on your high heels and fall on your bottom.

Well, at least that got Jin's attention as he was quick to run up to you.

"Why are you running in heels?" His brows furrowed as he examined your foot, eyes diverting yours.

You could only blush in embarrassment. "I was afraid you'd leave," you told him before adding in, "like Yoongi."

He was quiet for a moment, looking at nothing but your foot. It was the least of your concern though, because in all honesty, you hadn't exactly twisted it or hurt it in any way.

"You saw Yoongi?" Jin all but asked and you nodded. With the look on his face, you could tell he knew what you had saw. Still, he refused to look at you in the eyes.

"Jin—"

"Can you walk?" He interrupted with another question.

You shook your head, lying. "No." If the only way you could talk to him was by lying, then that was exactly what you would do. "It hurts," you said, pouting and faking a pained expression.

But of course, Jin saw through you. "Did you know that I'm a doctor," he chuckled before lightly poking at your nose. "You're a horrible liar too."

The light tone in his voice made you crack out a smile, until you saw his expression return to a serious, cold face. "What is it that you want, Y/N?"

Smile disappearing, you told him, "To apologize."

You saw the way his hands retracted away from your sight, placing them in his pockets as he stood up while you followed suit. You didn't know what was wrong, but you had an idea with the way he decided to hide his hands. You followed behind him as he walked the two of you away from the road, in a safer environment so that you didn't needed to worry about cars passing by.

"What for?" Jin asked, back still turned your way.

Your heart ached at the sight, craving to see his face. So you reached out to hold the hem of his suit, watching as Jin finally stopped walking yet still refusing to face you. You let out a sad sigh then walked around to let him see you. "I'm not afraid of you, if that's what you're worried about," you started as you looked at him right in the eyes as a sign to show him your words meant nothing but truth. "I'm sorry I made it seem that way, but I'm not afraid, why should I be?"

"You have every right to."

"No," you shook your head, disagreeing. "The only reason I left was because a problem came up that I couldn't ignore, I wasn't deliberately trying to ignore the sad glint in your eyes. I...I know you're special, all of you are. Yoongi disappeared right in front of my eyes - don't tell me it had been my imagination because I know it isn't - then with Hoseok, I closed my eyes and counted to five and the next thing I knew, we were right in front of your home. And you—"

With just the mention of him, Jin's jaw tensed and he was quick to looked away from you once more. Your brows furrowed with both pain and frustration that he thought so little of himself. "You helped me, Jin," you emphasized, meeting your hand with his arm in hopes of him turning back to you. "You healed me, how can I ever be afraid of that?"

Taking you by surprise, Jin looked at you but with a glare as he aggressively asked, "Why aren't you afraid of that?" You flinched backward and wished you hadn't, otherwise you wouldn't had seen a more hurtful gaze on him. "See?" He scoffed bitterly. "You're afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid of you," you denied stubbornly and desperately.

"I'm a mafia, Y/N, don't lie to me. You don't even know anything about me."

That hurt. It had hurt for Jin to say that, letting him sink in the reality that you really were gone from his grasp and that you remembered nothing of him and the others. And it had hurt you because you knew it was true, yet something told you you should had known. There were so many things inside of you, telling you all sorts of things.

One told you to leave and admit to reality that trying to convince a mafia you weren't afraid of him wasn't worth anything. Yet another thing told you that you should stay, to try and get to know him, to understand the situation you were in, to stop escaping. Of course the latter was the choice you decided in making despite the fact that he was a mafia. At that point, it really didn't even mattered that he was a mafia. The only thing you saw was that Jin was a human capable of human emotions.

"No, I don't," you admitted, looking away from Jin as you watched a car pass by before returning your gaze on him. "But you do, don't you?"

He averted his eyes with that question, so of course, you knew it was true. "There's obviously something I'm missing and I'm the only one in this oblivion. There's something I'm...forgetting. Just like that flower Yoongi showed me, that forget-me-not flower." You looked away once again, only to go in a little shock as you realized another passing car had ran over the flower bouquet you had dropped.

A small gasp escaped your lips as you watched the petals fluttering into the air, ripped and torn. "Oh no."

You wanted to rush onto the road and recollect it and you were about to but Jin had grabbed your wrist before you could. "Don't. It's not worth it."

"But the flowers.." Your eyes saddened at the sight then turned to him to pout. "This is your fault," you pointed accusingly. Sure it was actually your fault for running out recklessly, but technically he was the reason why you had dropped your flowers in the first place.

"The car even ran over the flower Yoongi gave me," you said with a frown.

A soft sigh was heard above you and you felt a hand patting you on the head. Soft as you knew he was, you couldn't help but let your heart flutter at just the simple touches from Jin. "I'll give you new ones," he promised you.

Meaning I'll see him again.

You felt ecstatic over the revelation and smiled up at him, deciding to take that chance to ask him something. "Then can you also walk me home?" You wished aloud, hoping he'd agree, but was instead greeted by another dark frown. Jin's hand retracted and you watched the way his brows furrowed, eyes wondering away before meeting yours again.

"I'm a mafia," he repeated once more as if trying to get you to realize the situation you were in, that you were refusing to leave a mafia alone.

"I don't care," you simply stated, once again following your heart rather than your mind, because at this point, you felt your heart was actually telling you the right thing to do. "I'd feel more safer if you were by my side than to walk alone while the moon is high above the sky and shining brightly."

He took a few seconds to look upon your eyes as if searching for confirmation that you indeed weren't scared of him. Jin was already insecure, as much he hated to admit it. He hated doubting himself around you and hated the most of the vulnerability you made him show. But how could he not when just one look at you could just break him?

You were so persistent, so stubborn, and Jin knew you were still quite clueless to the truth.

But perhaps that wasn't a bad thing.

"Alright," Jin decided and you let out a bright smile, a smile he had grown to love so dearly.

~~

"Miss Lee?"

Your boss looked up at you while her hands continued staying busy in arranging some flowers. "Yes?" She responded coolly. You had always thought you were one of the luckiest people out there who got to enjoy comfort in spending time with their boss. After all, there were a lot out there who feared whomever they were working for. As for you, however, your boss had always felt like a second mother to you. She was always caring and had been the one to recognize your talent in flowers.

"Tell me about the forget-me-not flower," you asked her as you reached for the lilies for your own flower arrangement.

You watched her as she reached for the calla lily and a soft smile appeared on her face. "There is a sad legend that accompanies the forget-me-not flower, a sad German legend," she told you.

"Oh?" Your brows raised, hearing this for the first time.

"Two lovers were walking along the banks of a river," Miss Lee began and you felt already entranced by the story. It had always been fun to listen to legends, especially when they had involved lovers of some sort. "The waters had been angry that day, running wild and crashing against the rocks. On their walk, the young lady had spotted beautiful blue flowers and immediately fell in love with it. She wanted it, and so the young gentleman vowed that he’d get them for her.”

You stopped working on your flowers and leaned your chin against the palm of your hand, your elbow resting against the table. You saw as Miss Lee’s movements slowed down as her eyes casted a soft sad glint.

“The gentleman swam to the other side and grabbed the flowers, but before he could return, the rushing waters pulled him away, for the current had been much stronger than him.”

Your eyes saddened at the story, a small gasp escaping your lips.

“The last words he shouted were ‘forget me not,’ and the lady returned his words. And that, my dear,” she breathed in with a tight smile, “is how the flower got its name—at least that’s what the legend says.”

“What a sad legend,” you frowned, making your boss nod in agreement.

Was that how it was going to be with you? Ending up with a sad ending just like that legend? Or rather, had that already happened to you?

Maybe that was why Yoongi gave you the flowers, because some tragic past had occurred. But how when you didn’t even know them? Perhaps that was the whole purpose of the flower then, a sign of reminder, that old love was to never be forgotten. And maybe that could explain the war dreams?

Death, pierced through the heart.

A different occurrence of death but nonetheless, it was death.

“Y/N?” Miss Lee looked at you in concern. “Was there a reason why you asked about the flower?”

You nodded, deciding to be straightforward. “I received the forget-me-not flower by this gentleman,” you told her, still perplexed on Yoongi’s reasons.

“You do understand what that means, right?” She asked and you nodded once more. “Did something happen?”

“That’s the thing,” you furrowed your brows. “I don’t know.”

Your boss leaned back against her chair, arms crossed against her chest and looking as if she was trying to analyze the problem.

It was complicated, everything was so complicated you felt as if this whole situation was taking up all your time. There was no way you could give your full focus on other things when you still had a mystery to solve. If only things could just clear up, if only they could tell you what was going on.

“Then go.”

You looked back at your boss, head tilted in confusion.

“Go find him,” she said, giving you a confident smile. “Go to him.”

You sat there at first, not knowing what to do even as your boss had already given you permission to leave. With an assuring nod casted your way, you stood up to politely give her a short bow in thanks, then turned around and made your way out.

It wasn’t a him you were trying to find, it was a them.

[jenovahh]

KYKM - 14 Months, 24 1/2 Days

Let it never be said, that Zenos yae Galvus, Garlean Hunter, Prince of Garlemald, never feared for a life not his own.

Let it never be said, that he would never put his own life on the line for another.

Let it never be said...

That Zenos did not love you, the Warrior of Light.

Loved you so much, that he had obliterated a group of enemies with one swipe of his sword, ignoring the blazing city around him. Soot and smoke filled his lungs, but these scents were not unfamiliar. Not to a conqueror. 

In fact he reveled in it, completely unfazed by his grandsire’s showcase of his world as it was when it fell apart. He has enough tact not to show it however, seeing the anguish written on your face, watching as buildings collapse and the world around you burns itself to the ground.

He stays close.

He doesn’t leave your side as you trudge forward through each doom Emet-Selch puts before you, lending you his strength in the form of his raw power. He has the energy to spare after using so little of it during his time on the First. It feels good to stretch his muscles and sense his grandsire’s annoyance at him blazing through his trials with ease. Zenos considers it the first of many punishments he will exact on his grandsire for hurting you so.

There’s a strange satisfaction in the active desire to hurt someone. He had not felt this way since his training days of his childhood, the one who lit that fire in him to surpass all. This was...different somehow. He had wanted to kill his instructor as a show of strength. A show of superiority, to figure out the puzzle of his master’s strength. Now, he only sought out his grandsire in order to end his wretched existence for hurting you so.

Somehow, the desire of ending his grandsire’s life for your sake seemed far more rewarding.

Is this what they called a purpose?

“It burns.” He hears you rasp, eyes stinging with tears from the smoke or perhaps your own sadness. Maybe both. “Why do I...why do I feel so...”

“We are nearing our goal, Warrior. You must persevere a bit longer.” He urges, encourages, for you have already done so much for him. The least he could do is bolster you in this time as your body, your very soul is threatening to burst at the seams. Your hand is clasped in his own as you are transported to the heavens, looking upon the star itself as it burns. The Scions are following close behind, unwilling to be left in the dust as you two press onward.

“Well, well...you prevailed...”

Zenos’ eyes narrow as his grandsire appears from the aether, looking as bored as ever. His eyes roam across the group, judging, surveying.

Zenos is in front of you before Emet-Selch can even lift his arm, a rush of power assaulting the group, buffeting against his body. So strong is it that even he clenches his jaw as he bears the brunt of it, the Scions falling to the ground in a heap behind him.

“Your performance was underwhelming, and I remain unconvinced of your worthiness.” He drones, superiority dripping from each syllable. Emet-Selch’s eyes focus on him, lips curling into a wry smile. “And you, my dear boy...not that I had ever been around you much to begin with, I’m sure even your father would be shocked to see a monster like yourself doing something as selfless as shielding another with your own body.” He pauses to scoff bitterly. “You must be overjoyed, knowing that your precious love will turn into something just as monstrous as you.”

He doesn’t allow himself to be riled by his words, far too used to the political arenas of Garlemald. “You say that as if it’s a thing to be ashamed of.” He counters, finally drawing his sword. 

“Zenos wait,” He hears you plead, but he holds out his arm to keep you behind him. Before he can turn to speak, Alisaie rushes past him, rapier drawn as she aims straight for Emet-Selch. She’s stopped by a barrier of his making, not even bothering to lift his arms as she bears her full might against him. 

“Our worlds may not live up to your lofty standards...” She snarls, voice suffused with emotion. “But they are our worlds! Our homes! Full of life and love and hope!” She swipes at him once more, “And we won’t stand by and let you destroy them!”

With a single arm, Emet-Selch sends her flying, Alphinaud crying out to rush to his sister’s side. The paragon crosses his arms, looking down from his nose at the fallen girl. “You are a mistake.”

“For we who have known perfection, the shattered Source and these shards are ghastly mockeries of the true world.” He grins at the group, golden eyes gleaming. “The ephemeral lives you exalt are pale imitations, utterly devoid of meaning.”

Zenos prepares to strike, but he feels you brush his arm, clinging tight to his sleeve as you pull yourself up. Your eyes burn brightly with indignation, determination, the will to fight.

“Fool. Who are you? No one. Nothing.” Emet-Selch seethes, lips curled in a smug smile. “Once I have reclaimed my heritage, my first act will be to expunge your stain from history’s weave.” He takes a deep breath, eyebrows furrowed as you slowly drag yourself toward him. “My world will have no need for heroes.”

“Emet-Selch...” You breathe, slowly taking steps toward him.

“Still fighting the good fight...” He drawls, shrugging his shoulders. “Why do you press on...? Weary wanderer-- you’ve no fight left to fight! No life left to live!” He taunts, only driving Zenos’ ire higher as you continue to trudge toward his grandsire. “Don’t tell me; do you envision a life with that boy? Once again ready to strike down the villain, save the day, and live your wretched life in contentment?!” He nearly roars, power filling the area.

“Emet-Selch...” you repeat pleadingly, before you cry out in pain, light shining from beneath your skin. “Warrior!” Zenos calls as he rushes to you, arms rushing to keep you upright.

Emet-Selch cackles loudly, palms outstretched. “You see! The Light will not be denied! Surrender to your fate, and let the transformation take you! Rise up in madness and fury! Devour the vermin infesting the land which is rightfully ours!”

Thancred launches himself overhead the two of you, striking hard at Emet-Selch’s barrier. “Now Ryne-- now!” He shouts, growling as he fights against the Ascian’s might. He hears Ryne’s fumbling footsteps as she struggles to run toward your prone form, Zenos’ watching her approach until instinct prickles down his neck. Quickly, he turns his head to see Thancred be flung away from Emet-Selch, the older man falling to the ground like the rest. With a wave of his hand, he watches at Emet-Selch flings an attack...straight for Ryne.

“Foolish girl!” He curses underneath his breath, quickly snagging Ryne by the arm, shielding her with his body. The pain is instant as the attack hits; he can feel blood slowly trickling from the wound beneath his clothing.

The one time I forgo armor...

He collapses to one knee, ignoring the distant laughter of Emet-Selch in the background. He can hear cries of his name from Ryne as he slowly crumples to the floor, snarling at his own weakness. What made him jump in front of this girl?

“Zenos!”

Don’t say his name like that. Not again.

“Zenos please,”

“Don’t look at me like that.” He spits, reaching a hand to your tear stained face. There he goes. Making you cry. 

Again.

You crumple atop him, sobbing into his chest, even as your own soul is falling apart. The fire within your eyes now sputters, in danger from being snuffed out in the tide of your helplessness. Your hopelessness. You must not give in. He did not come this far to see you give up.

“Will you let it end here Warrior?” He rasps through the pain. His grandsire’s magic must truly be powerful to wound him so. “The outcome you desire...will you let it die here?” Your body is shaking above him, both in sorrow and in pain as the light slowly overwhelms you. It cannot end like this.

You cannot end like this.

“Hear me hero.” He reaches a hand to your face, jerking your face to stare hard into your eyes. “Endure. Survive. Live.” He snarls, grinning as he sees that spark in your eye. “For the rush of blood, for the time between the seconds--live.” He continues, watching as the spark turns into a full on blaze, your body glowing with light.

“For the sole pleasure left to me in this empty, ephemeral world,” he growls, watching as you slowly stand to your feet. There’s a shift of energy, your body no longer hunched over in pain as the Light fights to over take your soul. You stand tall above him, staring down the Paragon whose face is twisted in outrage, fists clenched at your sides.

“Live.”

[98hwas]

strings of fate 🎀

featuring :: fan chengcheng

summary ::  the red string looped around his fingers laid hanging by his pinkie, a lucky being whose life wasn’t played in the hands of whimsical fate yet, a man free to love whoever he wanted. and there was you, a being blessed by fate with eyes which saw the fate of others, but never yourself. 

genre :: angst, fluff

rating :: some light swearing? so pg13

word count :: ~3.3k

style :: bullet scenario

so you have this gift curse but i guess people call anything magical a gift because being normal is boring and that’s the real curse but yes, you can see the strings of fate of others

so a little more detail on your little gift, you could see the string of fate of others, a singular thread, the one which represent the fated person who will complement you well. some people have their fates matched since young, others have a free hanging string waiting for them to discover their fated person, or sometimes fate will match them later on in life.

and there was one last group, a minority that you were convinced you were the singular being within that category, you didn’t have the red string of fate

nothing

nothing at all, no matter which angled you tried to look, or tried to find that red string, it had never been there

you used to convince yourself that it was simply a blindspot of the ability as any superpower had it limitations

although you could never quite get the nagging feeling that perhaps you never had a fated person to begin with but you were quick to push these thoughts aside since it was better to see things positively

so you were been friends with chengcheng, a pure coincidence born because you attended the same kindergarten as the boy and your surname fell close to his and the teachers made you pair up with him and thus began your interactions with the boy

so it has been 14 years??? and somehow you’re still stuck with him, although you’re not complaining since along the years, maybe around high school, you realised you were crushing on your dorky childhood friend who ate too much, annoyed you from hell and all the way back, but always stayed loyal to you as a friend despite your bickering over sometimes the most absurd things

“the taiyaki should be eaten from the tail”

“no nononono, you start from the mouth”

also had once said that he eats marshmallows straight off the bag without roasting them in a barbecue because they are the same as roasted marshmallow and he didn’t see the difference and you got so offended that you spent the next fifteen minutes of your life toasting the perfect marshmallow to prove him wrong only to realise he had said that to trick you into roasting the marshmallow for him because he was too lazy

but yeah, you had that kind of friendship dynamics going on which you were fine with

okay

you were not so fine with because a heart in love just wants more but you were too damn scared to act on your fat crush

the fears gnawed at you, even if he accepted and became your boyfriend, what were you supposed to do if chengcheng’s string suddenly connect with someone else?

do you give up on him? and just let him go because there is someone who is destined for him out there and him being tied down to you was denying him of a future he should have

or worse what if he leaves you because you were always second and never the first choice for anyone because you have no fated person to begin with

you had given up on hoping for your pinkie to grow a string because, honestly, it isn’t going to happen

so with these fears, you had instead chosen to simply take the grand first row seat as the oblivious boy told you his crushes and you pretty much became the confidant whenever he had a significant other

oh i forgot to mention but your secret ability to see the string of fate of others? you told no one, not even chengcheng because your mum really felt like she will murder whoever knows of this family secret

and yes, so you have witness 3? 4? relationships in the past 14 years of friendship with the male and all of which you tide over by throwing yourself in anything and everything that you can distract yourself with

you even tried going out with other people but most of them ended within months so you eventually gave up

although you couldn’t help but feel relieved whenever you glance down and see that his string remain unattached even through so many relationships he was in

although you lived with trepidation, in fear to see that one day, his string would attach to someone and that was the last straw that kill any hope of your love being reciprocated because you will. WILL. have to back off, you may be in love but you were such an asshole to deny chengcheng of a better future

also he noticed your habit of looking down at left hand

“y/n, i notice that whenever you see me, you always look down at my hand???”

and you needing to not expose yourself and your secret you always shrug and change the topic before he could press any further

it was university, both of you were freshmen, of the same faculty, same major

so you were still stuck with chengcheng and still had the front seat to his love life

you noticed his crush earlier than chengcheng himself

a young boy in love, awkwardly shy but incredible soft, a side you never knew he had beyond the dorky self he was and that made you jealous

but with countless experience, you kept it cool because better being friends than having any semblance of relationship shattered over your petty feelings

so one day when both of you were lounging in his bedroom, taking a break from the project you were working on as he said, “y/n. you know qinqin?”

you glanced up from your phone only to spot the same shy boy, show hesitated with the beginning of a smile curling his lips, your heart dropped a little but you merely hummed, “yes? what about her?”

“i think i like her”

and like always, a practiced line came out automatically as you encouraged him to do what you wants as long as he didn’t regret it

although this time, you found yourself asking, the question passing your lips even before you had the chance to process them

“hey, chengcheng, do you believe in the string of fate?”

and the male who was amused replied, “maybe? but that did be so dope if it is true. but why though?”

“nah… just curious.” you were surprised that he didn’t catch the bitterness behind your words.

within a month, chengcheng began going out with qinqin, a girl who you had known her name and face but little to nothing about her

but it was a glance at her pinkie did you see the red string around her pinkie extending to connect with another school mate, a male who seemed to be acquainted with qinqin as well

and the sirens in your head went off, you could almost foresee the future events, one of heartbreak for chengcheng, and you knew the male had always been particularly sensitive and you didn’t wish to see his heart get broken especially knowing how deeply invested he was in the current relationship

so you tried to hint to him, an uphill task which was hard because you had to hide your ability while trying to convince chengcheng who interpreted your actions as trying to tear him apart from qinqin because you were jealous of his closeness with qinqin

and of course, i guess the frustration got to you because you spouted a rather careless remark, “i hope you don’t regret not listening to me when it really happens”

oh boy did you fuck up big time

and both of you slipped into a period of cold war

a first in 14 years of your life and you felt bad, super awful over what you said but you can’t take back what you said and chengcheng pretty much pulled a ninja card on you and was never in sight when you tried to find him, and when you do find him he was with other friends you didn’t know or qinqin herself

so you gave up trying, only to have yourself to blame for meddling

it was one day when you have thrown your miserable self deep into your studies did you receive angry knocks on your door

opening, standing by your doorstep was chengcheng, broken and bitter, he chuckled bitterly, “we broke up.”

your eyes darted down to his left hand, the string was still unattached

“are you happy now, y/n? that what you hoped happened? that i didn’t listen to you?”

your eyes dropped to stare hard at the wooden flooring, the back of your eyes stinging with the sudden gathering moisture threatening to fall

guilt, it gnawed at you, hurt, it struck at you like a dagger digging into your stomach and ugly ugly relief washed you, making you disgusted.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn-”

“well it is too late, y/n, you can’t take back what you-”

“I know!” the words burst past you lips as your gaze flew up to meet his, which were dark with stormy emotions

“i know…” you whispered, swallowing the growing lump pushing against your throat

“if i wasn’t cursed with these ability” 

your mutter didn’t go unheard by the male narrowed his eyes at you, “what do you mean?”

“nothing,” hasty to cover up, the worst cover up lie was thrown only making the male advance closer, “lying now, huh? i guess our friendship is really nothing to you, y/n.”

and that’s when you snapped

“look, you want to know? alright, here’s the deal, so listen up, fan chengcheng. her string was connected to someone else that wasn’t yours and fate doesn’t give us humans much control over our choices, you will never becomes her first because is someone else much better than you for you. and i know what it’s like to always be second to someone and never the first, it hurts. it fucking hurts. i know i was in no place to say those things and regarding your question, if i was jealous of you and qinqin? yes i am, i am jealous that she had a chance with you because i will never have one but you know what, i am happy being friends with you but i guess we won’t be anymore seeing the state of things right now. so yeah, i’ve got better things to do so please get out.”

somehow you managed to hold your tears back as you pushed a stunned chengcheng out of your door before slamming it shut

it was over, you fucked things up big time, not only did you reveal your ability, you had dropped the bomb of your crush and ended your friendship with him

well done

well done indeed

and the weeks after that night, you became the one who pulled the ninja card on chengcheng, refusing to be anywhere near him because you knew you did sob your eyes out over ruining your 14 year friendship over something so petty because you couldn’t contain your jealousy unlike the previous times

four weeks in your mission to avoiding chengcheng, while rushing to a sudden change in project meeting venue, you had flung yourself into the seminar room ready to apologise for not noticing the message because you had drowned yourself in work, you had instead came face to face with the very person you were trying to avoid

“sorry, i think i’ve gotten the wrong room, i’ll take my lea-”

“y/n, can we talk? please?”

hands gripped the doorknob, you were ready to bolt until the kicked puppy eyed glance went your may made your will crumble as you sighed relenting as you stepped into the room, “alright. ten minutes.”

scrolling to set the timer, you hit the start button. 

00:09:59.37

he looked haggard, tired, worn, much worse than few weeks back, and you knew you were the cause of his current state, if you just didn’t open your fat mouth and let things take its course

you saw the male perk up but simply disregarded the action as you settled atop of the table, “what business do you have with me?”

“i’m sorry for that nigh-”

you could feel tears gathering at the very mention of that night as your hands sought purchase on the edges of the table, knuckles gripped white as he fought to maintain your cool

not in front of him

never

“it’s fine, i was clearly in the wrong for what i’ve done and if you wish to apologise, it’s heard and we are chill, if there’s nothing els-”

“y/n, please listen.”

the plea shot straight into your soft spot for the male which had never left no mattered how hard you had willed yourself to give up on the male, “okay”

“i’ve heard about it from your mum- regarding your ability, that is.”

your gaze shot up at his words, wide as saucers - you mum knew

you’re officially dead, your mum is going to ship you off to some deserted island to hide you and there went your youth-

“i explained the situation, and promised to not share your secret with my entire body and soul. and i’m sorry for putting you in such a difficult spot, you were looking out for me but yet i-”

“it’s fine, you didn’t know, i never told you,” you deflated a little as you shook your head with a wry smile

the silence dragged between the two of your until you heard a whisper, one which nearly got swallowed by the humming silence, “how long? for how long did you like me?”

lips pursed, your gaze cast down, refusing to meet the burning gaze that was staring right at you, “high school.”

“why didn’t you tell me?” 

“i was scared” you felt tired, your legs pulled up to fold against your chest as you buried your head against your knees

“… why?”

you felt a choked bitter chuckle escape your lips at the question, your eyes lifted to finally meet chengcheng’s

“why? because your string isn’t attached to anyone and-”

you sucked in a shaky breath, lifting your left hand to stare at the empty vacuum surrounding your pinkie, “i don’t have a string, chengcheng.”

your phone beeped and your hand was quick to snatch it up, grateful of the interruption as he pushed yourself off the table and grabbed your bag

just as you were about to leave the room, chengcheng blurted out, “then, can we at least go back to being friends?”

you hesitated, as seconds dragged to minutes, you shrugged, “if you want to.”

and you left

so post cold war period was a stage of rebuilding broken bridge, including chengcheng being overly eager to reconnect with you and make up for the time lost

and while you were still uncomfortable, the familiar presence of your childhood friend won out the uncertainty as you were glad to have your childhood friend back although you would never admit it back to chengcheng

some things had changed, chengcheng asked you a lot about your ability and knowing that you could talk about it freely, you began talking about what you can see and answering his curious questions

things were fine, some of the wounds in your hear never quite closed, and you know staying with chengcheng will only allow the sparks of love you harbour for him to linger but you didn’t care anyway, too relieved to have your childhood friend back

so fast forwarding a year, things were fine, both of you have settled back into a comfortable dynamic which never quite differed from the past although chengcheng seemed to be a little more attentive to you and your emotions than before which struck at your soft spot for him

and it so suddenly, at a time you never expected

he texted you asking you to come to a meeting room to help him to shift some files, and while you complained and grumbled, you had begrudgingly agreed

but the meeting room was pitch black

“chengcheng?” you had called and the lights flickered on, instead of a place filled with haphazardly stacked files, it was decorated with so much red that you thought your eyes were going mad from the red petals on the floor, red streamers crossing the ceiling

and you were like wHaT iS gOiNg oN??????

“what prank is this?”

and chengcheng nearly broke the face of seriousness to roll his eyes at your apprehensive comment

“do you like it, y/n?” he had gestured to the room

and you surveyed it once again - too much red - too much and all you could offer was a “maybe?”

although you were quick to supply a following statement in case the male got sad, “but a+ for the effort.”

and that made the male chuckle, a low quiet one as long strides were taken to close the distance between you and him

“i thought about it for a very long time, harder than i’ve done before.”

clearly not following where the male was trying to lead to you could only nod dumbly, and chengcheng suddenly lifted his left hand asking, “how is my string doing?”

“uhm? single pringle as ever?” you offered hesitantly only to see the male break into a wide smile as he dug into his pockets, turning his body away as though to shield what he was doing away from you

and you being you, you got a little impatient, “chengcheng, i swear-”

and you were hushed by the male who leaned in to press a finger to your lips before reaching to grab your left hand

a woolly feeling slipped around your pinkie before chengcheng glanced up with a smile, “what about now?”

a red woollen string extending from his left pinkie to loop around yours sat in your gaze before disbelief and denial set in

“chengcheng, if you’re joking right now, i think it is time to stop, and if this is out of pity, it is fine, i am happy being frie-”

“but what if i want more than that?”

you stuttered to a stop, startled by the sincere graze transfixed upon you, suddenly at a loss at what to do

and stupid stupid insecurities floated upon before any semblance of happiness could arise

“aren’t you cruel? what will i do if your string connects to someone else in the future?”

your head dropped fringe falling forward to shield the first wave of tears which slipped past

“it won’t happen.”

“liar, you don’t know, i don’t think i can handle another round of heartbreak, chengcheng,” you sucked in a shaky breath as your chin tucked itself further inwards

“it won’t happen, trust me?” from the edge of your gaze, you saw him extend an open palm towards you, the silly red woollen string sitting awkwardly around his pinkie

“prove it to me then” you felt petty saying that but you needed to prove to yourself that this was not a mere figment of your imagination

and you felt a hand gently tilt your head up, a thumb moving to vrush the stray tears away before your felt the warm sensation of lips ghosting the nose, a tender murmur breathed only for you, “I like you, I like you a lot, y/n. so go out with me?”

it was a leap of faith but for your one fat crush, you did take it anytime

left hand searching for his as he dived into his arms, your answers came in a chant of incoherent ‘yes’s before you looked at your boyfriend, a smile so warm, so soft, and so fond, and that smile was reserved only for you.

“you know, i think the reason why my string is always unattached because you’re the one i’m waiting for, until the day your red string appears, mine will continue to wait for yours.”

a/n: haha so i tried, this turnt out real long, and i think the ending is so cheesy good bye but i had to satisfy my chengcheng feels so hope yall enjoyed it ? and if yall want more, feel free to hmu and i will try my best to write them c’:

[itbeajen]

Agape [7] | Yuri Plisetsky | Witch!AU

Nameless Town - Before the Tragedy - Ages: 4 "You always carry that journal around, why?" Yuri asked as he walked beside you. You had came over to play again and you nodded happily, "Mama told me this journal is a family.. family... rail... hood?" "No, it's heirloom," Yuri's grandfather chuckled, and you nodded, "Ah, yeah! That!" "Ah.." Yuri pauses, his lips still pursed into a pout and he slightly tilts his head, "What's that mean?" The beautiful orbs that normally were filled with indifference were filled with curiosity. You hummed and mumbled, "I think it's something important we keep in the family." "Oh..." Yuri's voice trailed off and then he asked, "Do you write in that journal too?" You shook your head, silver locks swishing back and forth from their twin ponytails, and pouted, "Mama said I'm not allowed to. She told me to wait until I'm older." You paused and mumbled, "But I don't know why." But the thought seems to escape you when your visage suddenly brightens and you asked Yuri to wait. He stopped and watched as you pull out two identical pendants, they were both a dull blue with a shimmer of brightness that seemed to flicker between existing and not existing. His eyes widened at the sight and you smiled brightly, "Mama said to give you one since I have two!" You extended your hand with the other pendant and Yuri gently takes a hold of it and he asked, "I can.. really have this?" You nodded, and Yuri gently turns it over in his hand. The warmth ebbing from it made him feel protected, safe, and- "Wake up."

His eyelids flutter momentarily before he finally manages to focus on the scenery before him. His eyes narrow at the sight before him. No longer was he in the cave, but rather in an intricately designed place. It was though he was sitting, or perhaps floating, among the stars. Everything felt warm, but at the same time, empty. His blue-green orbs finally settling upon the scenery before him and he groans in pain as he attempts to move. "You're awake." He whips his head in the direction of the voice. No, it's her voice. Yuri looks around, confused. He swears it's your voice. He knows it is. But where? He frowned, but it's quickly replaced by a look of surprise as a younger version of you appear before him. Your silver locks weren't as long as they were now. They were not cascading down your back like a waterfall as they do now, but instead they were neatly tied up in two. A hairstyle reminiscing the past; of a childhood that was filled with laughter and joy. Your small pink lips curve up into a weak smile and you asked, "Confused, right?" He slowly nods, and asked, "Where.. are we?" "I guess you can say your subconscious?" He looks at the way you cutely tilted your head and you said, "What did you see?" What did I see? The lines on his forehead grows as he knits his brows together in confusion. What does she mean... what did I see? But his eyes widen in realization and he mumbled, "Us." You merely look at him, as though urging him to continue and he mumbled, "I saw us... Before everything went wrong..?" There's a dull throbbing in his head and he slightly winced, but asked, "Do we... We knew each other." "Yes." Your voice was soft, and wavering, as though ethereal. He frowned, "Who.. are you?" Your visage flickers between hesitation and rejection, and Yuri doesn't know why, but he feels his heart ache at the sight. He subconsciously reaches out for you, but you take a visible step back, shaking your head. His throat feels dry, and he swallows, and slowly asked, "Why? Why can't you tell me who you are?" "You..." you paused, and corrected yourself, "I can't. In order to protect you." "I don't get it," Yuri lowered his hand back into his lap, and his head slightly lowered with it. He stares weakly at his hands and he muttered, "Why are you protecting me? I'm a hunter. I'm supposed to be the one protecting you." "No.." your voice is softer, but it sounded closer. Yuri looks up, and your kneeling beside him, your hand resting over his and you softly continued, "It's better if you don't remember who I am." Yuri clenched his fist and his voice slightly wavered, "But why?" His head raises, just enough so that you can see the pure unadulterated anguish shining within his irises. "Why would you prevent me from remembering who you are? You.. and her, you two are the same right?" He sees the slight confusion, but also there was the suspicion, that shone in your eyes and you asked, "Who?" "[F/N]." The way he had breathed out your name, it was soft, gentle, and, if you must, filled with love. Although this was only a portion of you that you had sealed within his subconscious, you couldn't help but feel warm and loved. And he noticed it, the way your breath hitched and your lips trembled. He gently captures your petite hands in his and he asked, "Tell me that you're her, please..." His head lowers, and his voice drops into a whisper, "Let me see you one last time. I don't even know if you're alive anymore, [F/N]." It's me. You wanted to scream out, but you couldn't. The spell, or perhaps it was a curse now, that you had placed upon the both of you prevented you from doing so. But he knows the answer when he sees the unshed tears in your eyes, and immediately he whispered, "Why did you leave? Why can't I remember you? Why, [F/N]?" Yuri's heads were swimming with thoughts, but most of them were regarding you. How could you have left him that day- No, let him leave you? Why did you disappear, and where did you disappear off to? Are you still alive out there, waiting for him like he was for you? Or were you gone, forever? But no... the worst would be... if you're alive, and you're her. You lick your lips, and he sees you swallow, and you weakly muttered, "I never wanted to hurt you, Yuri." The familiar ache in his heart reconfirms its presence the moment you put life into his name, and his grip on your hand tightens, not enough to hurt, but enough so that you couldn't let go. You lowered your head, as though in shame, and continued, "But I had no choice... I have to protect you from me. From the curse of being with me. It's the only way that this toxic cycle could end." "I don't-" "I know you don't understand at this moment, but you will." Your voice was weak and he licks his chapped lips and asked, "But are you-" "I'm sorry." The ever growing gut feeling he had - one that had tormented him since he first laid eyes on you in the library - pierces through him and he opens his mouth, and then closes it, and repeats. He didn't want to believe it and he asked- No, it was not a question. You can see it in his eyes, from the way he looked at you as though you had not only just ruined his life, but also crushed and shattered whatever hopes and dreams he had remaining. "Why did it have to be us?" But you don't answer, and with a fleeting yet sorrowful smile, you disappear, and he frantically reaches out for where your childish figure was once standing and he slams his fist down. He's about to cry out in anger, but the sudden realization of being able to physically hit something makes him pause and reevaluate his situation. I hit something? Yuri opened his eyes in shock and finds that the location has changed. It was the town where you and him had grown up. And his eyes widen upon seeing you standing before him, back facing him, but your hair was gently fluttering in the wind as the breeze played with it freely and carelessly. He feels his breath hitch and his voice cracks upon calling your name. But when you turn around, he feels warmth coming from his chest, and he glances down. "The pendant.." "You took so long to remember," you teased, but the playful tone was flickering away, like a candle that was on the last of its spark. He looks at you, the identical pendant resonating with his, the glow and pulse ebbing towards each other and then away, much like waves reaching the beach shore. "You better be fucking around with me that you're the White Witch," Yuri growled, but it was weak and he loses his hostility upon seeing the sad smile gracing your lips. And he shook his head, "Why did it have to be you?" "I don't know." "What am I- How am I-" Yuri's fist clenches and he vehemently muttered, "How do you expect me to handle all of this information at once? You're alive. Otabek's dead. You're the god damn White Witch and the two of us are supposed to be the saviors of this blasted world and protect people from the Sorcerer. Do you have any idea how much crap I went through because of this stupid legend?!" You don't respond, but you don't flinch. Your normally warm orbs harden to steel, and they were as cold as the snowstorm in which Otabek has first found you in. Yuri muttered, "White Witch. Hunter. Sorcerer. This whole legend is messed up and-" "The legend is a legend because no one knows the actual story." You cut in, and he looks at you in surprise, but you weren't looking his way. Your gaze fell on the town square where you, him, Otabek, and many other friends of yours had once played together in a time where there was no such thing as war. "But the actual story is the key to ending this," you softly whispered into the wind as it harshly blew past you and him. He raises his arm to shield himself from it, but once it dies out, he sees that you were no longer standing there, but instead behind him. This time you stood in front of the stone buildings that were what you once called home. He waits for you to speak, and you glanced at him, before looking away. "The White Witch and the Sorcerer were originally one being," you admitted, and his eyes widened at the new information. As though you knew he was about to speak again, you continued, "But they were separated some time after the birth of the White Witch. She was the first human to show signs of magic, if anything, we can say all magic had stemmed from her originally." Yuri watches the scenery before him change, to something like a flashback, or perhaps a window into the past. Although the figures were nothing more than silhouettes, it is clear which character is which with the way they were colored in and how the detail around them seemed to help color their identities. "But the magic was too much for one person to control," your voice filled the air, and the silhouettes began to change. "The White Witch's health wasn't strong enough to hold all the magic on her own, and with the convincing of her mother, she spread the magic to others who had an affinity for it. But the White Witch kept the darkness to herself, knowing that it was much worse to plant seeds of dark magic into innocent people." "So she kept it herself," Yuri muttered, and you nodded. You paused and sighed, "But she couldn't control it." Yuri looks over at you and his eyes widened, "It can't be." "The Sorcerer was created from the dark magic that had no place to manifest," there was a frown on your face and you muttered, "And the only way he can be defeated is.. well," you stopped. Yuri looked at you, waiting for the answer. But from the way you looked so determined, so resolved, and so accepting of the future, he felt his initial shock switch to horror and then anger. "You're lying." The way you looked at him, it wasn't asking for pity, or sorrow. You were apologetic, he could see that much, but you already had a resolution and he growled, "[F/N]! You can't be serious!" "There.. is no other answer," you retorted, but it was weak, and not filled with the determination he saw externally and he scoffed, "No other answer? Are you serious? It doesn't have to end that way. It's a legend right?! That means that-" "The story I told you was the truth, it was inscribed on the walls of the cavern and signed off by the first White Witch herself," you interjected. The intensity in your gaze made him take a step back, and your visage softens and he muttered, "Why?" "Because.. I guess to get rid of the problem, you always have to go to the very source of it right?" Your smile was weak, and although you tried to play it off, you couldn't. And Yuri clenches his fist and he muttered, "I hate you." You looked at him, eyes wide in shock. Of course he would. Of course. You closed your eyes, as though fighting back the tears. I sealed his memories, and now I told him the only way to end this is if I die too. And not to mention all the negative expectations and pressure I indirectly put him through after I sealed his memories off. What was I- "But at the same time, I don't." Your eyes flutter open in shock, and you meet his gaze. His eyes were filled with vulnerability and he takes a step towards you and he asked, "Tell me, is this really the only way?" You're suffocated by the emotions within you and you softly nod. Before you know it, he's crossed the distance between you and him, and his hand gently takes hold of yours. He clears his throat, "I don't accept this. I won't." "But it's the only-" "I know," Yuri muttered, and he leans forward until his forehead is resting against yours, "But I'm going to do everything in my power. Everything." "Yu-" "Shut up, [F/N]," and you do, albeit the pout on your lip makes him smirk. And then he pulls away with a shaky sigh, and he muttered, "So now what?" You look at him, and gently intertwine your fingers with his and give him a reassuring squeeze. "We end this madness," you responded, and then gently lean forward, resting your head against his chest where his heart is beating. Your eyes close and you mumbled, "So wake up Yuri, for the both of us."

[awkwardblushing-blog]

Cullen’s Cottage Chapter 3 and 4

AO3 Link: (Will update when I regain control of my AO3 which has gone awol)

When he woke once more, the soft light of the rising sun was drifting through the windows, and he was alone. There was no food on the fire, though it sparked happily, and the gentle sway of the curtains was the only motion. He slowly pushed himself to sitting, his back significantly better. He thought he remembered waking to eat, to relieve himself with an embarrassing amount of assistance, having his bandage changed once more, it was all so blurry he couldn’t quite recall when any of that had occurred. Where was he?

The door opened softly, a barely audible creak filling the silence of the room. The woman returned, arms supporting two large baskets. He tried to stand and help her, but a look from her made him stay put.

“I know you are feeling better, but you cannot go back to your normal activities just yet.”  She set the items down on the counter with a huff. “If you want, we can walk around the cottage, but you cannot fall, I had a hard enough time getting you into that bed in the first place. I’d rather not do it again.”

She wiped her brow and gave him a wide, teasing smile as she began to place the produce filling the baskets into the ones near the fireplace, more potatoes, some carrots, a few apples, and a few ripe looking pears. His brow furrowed. How had this slight, wisp of a woman managed to get him here in the first place? Surely she’d had help? He glanced around; it didn’t look like there were any other inhabitants here aside from her, though it would comfortably accommodate a couple.

“How did you manage?” He shook his head, “To get me here, I mean.”

She paused what she was doing and hesitated, seeming to mull a thought over in her mind before smiling, “Determination.”

He stared at her blankly and she sighed, the smile not leaving her lips.

“Alright there may have been cursing. And a very large cooperative dog I had to bribe with a lion’s share of meat and promises. I did have to leave your armor though,” Her smile fell. “It was far too heavy, it would have been of no use to you. I am sorry if it was important to you.”

His armor? Why had he been wearing armor? He scowled.

She stood suddenly, her smile returning, digging in a small dresser and pulling out a fur mantle attached to a red cloak. “I did save this though. The back has a few stitches in it, like yourself, but it will work the same.” She smiled, holding it out for him, pleased to have kept a small piece of his armor.

A flash of it resting on a bed post, dragging it over his shoulders, fur tickling his cheeks in the breeze and tipped with snow… but he didn’t remember. It felt familiar, like he’d seen it before, worn it before, but was it his?

“Don’t you recognize it?” Her brow furrowed and she sat on the edge of the bed, the cloak resting in her lap, “You don’t remember. Try, what can you recall?”

He paused, thinking back as far as he could. He was startled to find he could recall very little. He knew he had siblings he cared for deeply, he knew he had a wonderful family and childhood, could even remember learning how to use a sword, anything beyond that…

“Do you remember your name?” She ventured, and his eyes lit up.  

“My name is Cullen.” He shook his head, “I have siblings... I can use a sword… Maker, why can’t I remember?”

She pulled his forehead to her shoulder in a strangely intimate gesture he couldn’t help but sink into. “It’s alright. You will figure it out. It is common in severe injuries, especially trauma to the head and blood loss, for one to feel lost upon waking. Give it time, you will be able to return home.”

He frowned, something about that thought sent a chill down his spine, he tried to push it away but it only grew worse, causing his whole body to tremble, a cold sweat breaking over his brow and back. He tried to calm himself, to gain some control over whatever this was surging through is body, this screaming in his veins, but he could find no hold. She sighed and stood, gently releasing him and grabbing a small potion from the table, it radiated a soft blue light. He snatched it from her hands but froze before he could drink it. His blood pulsed beneath the vial, crying for it, demanding it.

I should be taking it!

He shook his head, but his own voice radiated within, tired and rasping, Can’t you see why I want nothing to do with that life?

She urged him forward. “This will help you. There is only a small amount of lyrium –it will aid in the healing, it has been diluted with some crystal grace and elfroot, it will ease your symptoms just enough.”

His mind screamed to throw it out, to dash it upon the floor and be done with it, invoking his arm to launch it against the doorframe across the room, the glass shattered, raining liquid and glittering shards upon the floor. She flinched back, pressing into the wall herself as he clenched his fists, pressing them against his eyes, resisting the compulsion to race to the shards and lick them clean.

Lyrium.

His head began to ache, thoughts flashing against his eyelids, playing as if a movie. A magical cage, pressing down on his shoulders, of mages twisting and warping into abominations, of blood tracing the steps like a lazy stream, pooling to cover him up.

He fell back sharp against the bed, his back arched at the pain but unable to move as the thoughts forced their way in, every muscle in his body taught with the sheer force of them all. Of a girl, sweet and frail, failing her harrowing and turning into a monster, of a templar blade, falling swift and cutting her cry short, distorting it to a muffled gurgle as the blood filled her lungs. Of a once vibrant and clever man, quick to laugh and always welcoming, becoming still and silent, eyes hollow beneath the sunburst on his forehead.

An image of his friends, twisted, warped, and tortured before him before finally succumbing to their injuries. Of them standing to rise once more, taunting him, encouraging him to join, demons tracing tongues along his ear, whispering incessantly. Of the beautiful Amell, saving him. Of his release and demand for the mages lives.

To the image of a man, encouraging him to stay strong, green eyes firm and imploring before it all faded away.

He sucked in a much needed breath, his body sagging heavily against the headboard. He was vaguely aware of small hands pressing at his shoulder and, with what little energy he had left he obliged them, leaning forward to burrow his face against the slender neck. Her fingers raked gently through his hair while a gentle voice cooed his safety, whatever nightmares he had seen, were over and done with and far from them, that she would keep him safe. He pressed his burning forehead against her skin and sighed heavily.

“Hush now, it is alright, you are safe here.” He wrapped his arms around a small waist and pulled her tightly against him at her words. She returned the gesture immediately, cradling him against her chest as his trembling began to subside. When he stilled, she pushed him back, helping him turn to lie on his stomach.  The hands began to pull and prod at his bandage, a tsk resonating in his mind.

“You’re lucky this was as healed as it was. You’ve only split the center.” She sighed, pressing the bandage back down on his back. The poultice was still in place, and the wound would heal all the same. She stood once more, making her way to the basin in the corner to retrieve a damp cloth before returning, dabbing it gently on his forehead. She stayed silent, waiting for him to speak.

“I remembered.” He murmured into the pillow, his head still aching. “I was stationed at a circle… one of the mages became an abomination.” Her hand froze against his cheek, “My friends were brought back to life to taunt me, they tried to break me.” He didn’t hide the bitterness from his voice, his scowl fading only when he felt her shift away from him to stand. He turned to look at her, her hand raised, fingers lightly brushing the scar on her neck, her eyes wide and her skin unnaturally pale.

“You…you are a templar?” Her trembling voice was barely a whisper, a small, brittle thing. He furrowed his brow, why was she looking at him like that? He had given her no cause to fear him. He sat up, she stepped back.

“I am. Or…was.” He nodded, pleased to have a piece of his past once more in his grasp, but unnerved by her response. There was only one possible reason. He kept his voice as gentle as he could, since the war, you were lucky to find a single one of them who wouldn’t kill a templar on sight, or at least flee. What war? “Are you a mage?”

Her shoulders curled in on themselves, her already slight frame looking much smaller as she took several steps backwards, hand now covering her throat, her entire body trembling.

“It doesn’t matter to me if you are, if that is any consolation.” He said gently, keeping his own posture small. He’d encountered several other mages terrified of templars and had managed to befriend them as well, she would be no different. He paused, was that another memory? He shook his head, he needed to focus on her, no matter how blurry she was becoming. “I know there are templars who would hurt you, but I am not one of them. I am not that kind of man.”

She was silent for a few moments, a few steps further away, her body still trembling, her voice barely a whisper. “How do you know?”

He started. He didn’t. He had no clue what he was like normally. But he didn’t hurt women…did he? He shook his head violently.

“It doesn’t matter. I do not want to be that man. I do not want to take…,” He gestured absently to the scattered remains of the potion on the floor, “that and I do not want to hurt anyone, especially not you. You saved my life.” He sat back forward in the bed, turning to drape his legs over the side, barely managing to stand with the aid of the bed post. She vaulted to the opposite side of the room, bracing a hand against the door. “Please! Wait!”

She froze, turning back to face him, door partially open. What could he say to console her? What could he do that would prove he was no threat to her safety? But the world was only growing blurrier, and his motion to stand did him no favors. He sat back down, falling heavily and jarring his wound but he hid the pain as best he could. He rubbed his eyes but the world remained unfocused.

The soft sound of footsteps fell short of him but he kept his eyes downturned, his stature as demure as he could manage. He felt something cool against his hand and he took it gently, her arm a blur as she withdrew. The glass in his hand smelled sweet and he downed it readily, trusting implicitly that she would not harm him, templar or no. Where he developed this sudden certainty he would never know.

The mixture slid down his throat and lit a fire in his veins. He covered his mouth as its warmth flooded him. His back no longer hurt, his vision was no longer blurred, and the ache in his head vanished. He looked at the glass, then up at her, but she refused to meet his eyes, her posture that of a submissive mage accustomed to abuse at the hands of templars.

“You would take drink from a mage?” Her voice was a bit stronger, “You would lower your guard when I could easily have poisoned you?”

“You wouldn’t.” He said firmly, his gaze raising to hers, those beautiful aquamarine eyes finally returning to meet his. “Just as I would never hurt you.”

“How would you know?” She scoffed.

“You fished me out of a river, hauled me to your home and have been tending me for Maker knows how long.” He smiled, “Your pride, if nothing else, would see me live.”

A small smile quirked her lips but was quickly checked. He set the glass down on the small table beside the bed and folded his hands against one another.

“I know I am probably overstepping…but did templars give you that scar?” He knew it was unnecessary for him to point to his own neck, but he didn’t quite know what to do with his hands.

Her hand touched the mark in question and she nodded. “I found them injured on the road and offered to heal them. Once they were well and on their feet, they tried to remove my head. If we had been further from town, I would have died in the street. I was lucky that mercenary group passed when they did, and that they were friendly. If that woman’s arrow hadn’t struck exactly how it did, if he hadn’t fallen precisely as he did, my throat would have been slit regardless.”

His features twisted, his voice a growl. “Templars should protect, not torture and slaughter.”

“In these times, you would be one of the few who think so.” Her voice was soft, her footsteps nearly silent as she approached. She stopped a few feet before him and sighed. “I am sorry, for reacting how I did.”

“I am sorry my so called brethren gave you cause.” He yawned widely, despite his best efforts. But the conversation was taxing, and this was the longest he had been awake, not to mention the longest he had been upright. When his eyes reached her face, her smile was soft.

“Sleep, it has been a busy day for you. Hopefully in the morning, you will be strong enough to walk around the cottage.” She seemed unsure a moment, but she nodded to herself, her eyes hardening with determination. “Lie on your stomach. Now that you know I am a mage, you do not need to be asleep for your healing and I do not have to slow the process.”

He blinked and did as he was told. He’d thought he was missing days with how quickly his wound was healing, but she’d just been using magic in his sleep. The man he’d seen in those memories would never let a mage touch him again, yet somehow he was at ease. What was he missing? What had changed him?

Through the bandage, he felt the pressure of her hands, followed by a soft, almost tingling sensation that quickly spread, erupting into relaxing warmth, like basking in the rays of the sun on a cool day or sinking into a hot spring after training. He sighed as the torn flesh began to mend, muscles he hadn’t realized were tight began to loosen. But his mind was a jumble of new information, both of her and of himself. A thought suddenly struck him hard, he didn’t know her name. He was about to part lips and ask, when the most wonderful tune began to reverberate through him as she hummed the same song he’d seen her swaying to before, and before he knew it, he was asleep.