#somehow missed our past thread but take this as a gift

[g0dcountry]

WHEREABOUTS SECURED: SAT WITH ONE FOOT IN THE GRAVE AND THE OTHER IN THE DIRT, WITH @finalghost

isla’s words slid into the night, soft as smoke, curling around the fire like the things that linger in corners—never seen, but always felt. her gaze didn’t shift from the shadows of the trees, where the dark seemed to stretch a little too far. as if something was waiting there, just out of reach.

“ i wonder, ” she started, the words thick in the air, like they were something old, buried deep, clawing to get out. “ what would’ve happened if it was us who went down that river instead? if it was us floatin' there, waitin' to be pulled out by god knows what? ”

her fingers moved in slow, measured patterns on the log, tracing the rough bark, like she was feeling for something—some pulse beneath the skin of the earth. the fire crackled, but it felt like it was too far away, like the warmth was just an illusion. “ you think you’d a’ jumped in? tried to save me, or would you have let the river take me? just like that? ”

isla let it hang between them, the words sticky and heavy, as if they were both an answer and a question, all at once. the shadows twisted, reached long fingers across the ground, but the moment was still, stretched tight like a wire ready to snap.

[crepe-of-wrath]

Shouta Scarf Saturday

Notes/warnings: 18+; fem reader; kind of stretching the scarf connection this week tbh; collar mentions; less smut and more build-up; blink-and-you'll-miss reference to past non-consensual touching; soft yandere Aizawa; no physical violence; Darling Reader fully submitting to Aizawa; big-time Stockholm Syndrome

(not a continuation of any other Scarf Smut Saturday pieces)

Were you really doing this of your own free will?

You crept into the hallway, a leather collar in your hand. Aizawa's voice, stern, commanding, and sexy, was clear from the other room:

"Are you following the rules? You can't come out of your room if you don't follow the rules."

"I know, Sir," you said, hopeful that your meek reply would manage to reach him in the other room. You tiptoed toward his voice. Why did he have to keep it so cold in the house? You only had panties on--that was the first rule--and you were freezing.

He was sitting on his leather sofa in nothing but black sweatpants. He was a very handsome person (you knew you weren't supposed to think that, but he was) and you just wanted to curl up against his chest and feel warm in his arms (you knew you weren't supposed to want that, but you did).

"Good afternoon, angel," he said in the same voice that you imagined he used with difficult students after their punishments. "I'm so glad that you've decided to be a good girl and come out and join me. I've missed you. If you're hungry, you can have some lunch and then you can choose our show. Just show me what gift you picked."

That was another rule: to be able to come into the rest of the house you had to wear one of his little gifts.

Shyly, you showed him the collar you had been holding behind your back.

His eyes and his smile got really soft and you could tell that, perhaps for the first time ever, you had genuinely thrown him for a loop. He crooked his finger and you walked over to him. He drew you into his lap--you shuddered as your nipples brushed against the hair on his chest--and fastened the collar around your neck, letting his hands glide down to the small of your back when he was done.

"You surprised me with this," he said, just before kissing you on the nose. "Looks like I'll have to use my binding cloth as a leash, because I don't have anything else."

Sure enough, he grabbed the scarf that, as you had learned early on, was always within his reach and (somehow) threaded it through the ring on the collar. Part of you was very hot and bothered, and, when one of Aizawa's hands wandered from the small of your back to the front of your panties, you felt your body respond. But, there was another part of you that felt ashamed and embarrassed that you were allowing this man to treat you like this, that you were giving in, not fighting.

He was an observant man and quickly asked, "What are you thinking about, sweetheart?"

"I don't know," you said quietly, as, for reasons you could not fathom, you started to cry a little.

"I think I understand why you've been so silly lately," Aizawa said, his voice as kind as his eyes, the fingers of his left hand now carefully caressing your cheek. "Understand why you've been misbehaving when you clearly want to be with me." His other hand gently rubbed you through your panties again, feeling more of your wetness.

He sighed in longing, then continued. "This is my fault. I wasn't thinking properly for us, and I'm sorry." He continued to lightly stroke your cheek, making you feel so precious and desired.

"My sweet angel, I should have realized that you'd have all sorts of awful ideas put in your head by this stupid, cruel world. It's such a bad world, precious girl. I see it every day as a Pro." Suddenly he looked so sad, and so you stroked his hair. That made him pause and you realized were awash in fondness for him.

Aizawa swallowed hard and continued: "It's why I had to take you away so you'd be safe. This world tells you that there's no such thing as pure love, all-encompassing love, total love. But there is, and it is what I feel for you, and what I think you could feel for me if you would just stop listening to those voices. Can you do that for me, angel? Can you stop listening to them and see if you can try to love me?"

He tenderly kissed your lips. You closed your eyes and your body surrendered to his kiss as your mind had surrendered to his words. Now, the thoughts that you had been keeping at bay--like the ones about how good it felt when Aizawa touched you even when you told him you didn't want him to (of course, now you realized that he just knew best)--could run free. Everything he was saying made so much sense. You did want this. Wanted him.

"I'm sorry, Sir!" you blurted out. "I'm sorry I've been so ungrateful. I just...I just...I didn't think...you actually wanted...you're so beautiful and I...I'm so plain, and--"

You were starting to cry again.

Shouta had started nodding his head 'no' when you had called yourself "plain," and his own eyes were shining as you were finishing your broken little apology and crumbling into even more tears.

"Shhh, shhh..." was all he could manage as he wrapped you in his strong arms and held you so deliciously tight.

After rubbing your back to calm you down a bit, Shouta stood up, beamed at you, and gave a playful tug on your leash. "Come with me," he said, as he moved toward his bedroom door.

Just before you crossed the threshold, you pulled on the scarf-leash to stop him.

"Angel? Is everything OK?"

"I have to take off my panties," you said. "It's a rule, right? No clothes in your bedroom?"

He didn't need to say it: his face showed he was proud of you for remembering. And that made you proud of yourself. It felt good. When you had removed your underwear, you nodded and Shouta led you to the bed.

Shouta straddled you as you settled into the comfy mattress, keeping your scarf-leash twirled around one hand, and starting to slide his sweatpants down with the other.

He settled back for a moment and tweaked your leash a bit. You sat up and put your arms around his neck so you were close to him.

"Angel," he whispered, "I am going to make love to you so many times that you won't be able to move when we're done. Then I'm going to bathe you and soothe you and feed you and keep you safe while you sleep and prove to you that you are the prettiest girl who has ever lived."

If you hadn't cried your eyes dry earlier, tears of happiness would have been flowing. Instead, you smiled and kissed him. What a relief it was to be so captive cared for and so owned loved. You had never been happier.

[evita-shelby]

Nothing More Difficult than Love

Chapter 4

CW: PTSD, flashbacks, fainting

Taglist: @whitejuliana1204 @lovemesomevesey @livelifewondering

Gif by @ihrinmunteanu

“Harry says you’re engaged to Mr. Shelby.” Grace asks when they run into each other on the street. They go to the haberdashers; Eva needs thread and some other things for her sewing. She was mending one of Tommy’s shirts, one Polly had hinted that he liked best. Grace had unknowingly taken the bait and followed her in.

“Yep.” Eva answers, trying to keep things vague and casual. “April fourth.”

Somehow, Eva gets a feeling their wedding will be postponed.

“How did you meet him, Harry said you’ve only been in England maybe two weeks at the most.” nosy, wasn’t she?

“Arranged, by my uncles and his father and aunt. Although we’ve been corresponding since January.” A lie they had agreed on.

“And here I thought arranged marriages were a thing of the past, Miss Smith.” Grace says keeping the conversation flowing.

“Believe it or not, my father, may he rest in peace, was a Roma Gypsy. They still have arranged marriages, my parents wanted me to marry a man of my father’s people and Thomas Shelby was the least likely to ruin us and our carefully curated image.” the Rileys needed to appear like equals to the upper class of any country they inhabited. They were, but their blood and nationality made some think they were unworthy bean eaters.

“But he’s a bookmaker and a ---.” Grace begins and Eva silences her with a look.

“And I’m a shipping heiress,” Eva snorts as if it was very stupid of her to point that out looking at the ribbons on display.

Eva wonders if this nosy barmaid might be the spy. If she was, then the Crown had really stopped training them right.

--

“Do you ride?” Tommy asks her as he stops on his horse at her doorstep.

She was pruning the small bushes of basil on her granny’s window boxes, Eva had found herself smiling when she saw it was him.

“Side saddle or astride like a man?” she asks taking off her gardening gloves and pitting them on the windowsill.

“Both.” He specifies as he dismounts.

“Then yes to both, even ridden bareback a few times.” She answers petting the horse and letting him eat out of the palm of her hand. Had a way with animals, part of being a witch.

“Pick a name, I’m buying you a white horse. Think of it as an engagement gift from me.” All business this man.

Eva had seen it earlier. “Do you have to pick a fight with the Lees?”

“Only way I can get Kimber to trust me. Have you decided on a name for it?” he asked again.

“Enbarr. Don’t put it in any races, it won’t live very long.” She answers and warns him. “Going to have an issue with its front right foot, won’t see it yet, but it will kill the poor creature. They’ll say they cursed you, but they just sold you a sick horse.”

“A gift for a you and I’ll have to put it out if its misery.” Tommy huffed.

“I have a sleeping tonic that can kill a horse if too much is used.” Eva suggested. “If you want, I could also go with you and make things worse.”

She likes him, he likes her. Friendship was better than nothing. Even if he did cheat on her, she’d succeed in making him feel awful about it.

Hence why she was befriending Grace. Same strategy she used when Carranza was hell-bent into making her life hell. Leopoldo had gone as far as asking her to marry him.

“I’d like to, but I don’t want to risk you being hurt. I might take you up on the offer on the poison. Never liked killing horses.” He admits and then retreats back in himself, as if he bad said too much too soon.

“If it makes you feel better I used to light candles at church for my pet rattlesnake when I was nine.” She says and feels a flutter in her heart when he smiles and shakes his head. “I only had her for three days, but I adored her.”

“Are you going to light a candle for the horse?” he asked, almost playfully. Tommy then did something she hadn’t expected.

Tommy gently caressed the side of her face and cupped her cheek.

“Who knows, I might.” She replies, looking into his eyes. He has beautiful eyes, she thinks, very expressive, and oh so breathtaking.

Like Adonis come back to life.

His thumb brushed her lower lip, as if asking her for consent. She likes that about him, always waits for a cue, just to make sure she wants it too.

And she kissed him, she shouldn’t, proper ladies don’t kiss men in full view of her neighbors.

But Eva’s never been proper, something her beau should learn soon enough.

--

“Congratulations, it’s a boy.” Eva kissed Ada on the cheek in greeting. She was here to see the wedding dress Eva had gotten done in New York. It was a little simple, but elegant and lovely.

“Between the boys and you, I’ll never have any fucking secrets.” Ada complains, helping herself to the pastries Eva has just taken out of the oven.

“I know when to keep my mouth shut and Tommy can’t do shit to me for keeping things from him.” Eva shrugs and drinks her coffee.

“Will you tell him everything you know?” Ada asked and Eva shook her head.

“Only if there’s no other choice, but you’re his sister and I’m a person he’s only known for three weeks.” In three more weeks they’ll be husband and wife.

“He’s soft and sweet with you, could spill hot soup on his lap and he’d apologize to you.” Ada laughs. “He was worried you’d hate him; you know.”

Eva felt the heat rush to her cheeks, hard to imagine a man like Thomas be insecure.

--

Polly comes not even three minutes after Ada has escaped through the kitchen window and out the other end of the house.

“I knew you and my nephew would suit, just not this well.” Polly lights a cigarette and helps herself to water. Last time she tried the strong coffee Eva prefers, she claims she was up all night.

“I could get rid of Campbell myself, but alas until I am Mrs. Thomas Shelby I have as much power as, well, I don’t know yet.” Eva reminds her.

Could make a good profit and a bit of a difference with those guns. The resistance in Libya will have to wait until 1942 to see their people free from Italy, Mexico could use them now.

“And what would you do?” Polly says testing the girl who thinks she can run things better than her. If only Polly knew Eva would be her successor.

“Get in contact with Churchill, lie and tell him the guns are already halfway to President Carranza in order to exchange it for a pardon and a lift of my exile. He rescinds Campbell’s orders to find said guns.” the young witch answers leaving the best bit for last. “Once Campbell is gone, his spy will leave, we nab the spy and sell the guns to the rebels in Mexico, so the new president in 1920 can pardon me and my family.”

“Why Mexico? Not Ireland, or Libya?” Polly asked exhaling smoke.

“Mexico’s revolution ends in about a year, Ireland and Libya still have many years to go. The guns will endear us to my country’s next leaders and ensure trade continues. Tommy wants to rise up in the world, and the guns will help us do it.” Eva answers, wondering why she was dead set on getting rid of the guns.

“You and Tom agreed to all that already?” That was Polly’s gotcha moment.

“No, still ironing out some of the details.” Like whether revealing her abilities to Churchill is worth it, why the cards say to keep the guns here and how the fuck does Kimber tie in all this?

“Might say no if he finds out you’ve been keeping Ada’s secrets.” Polly warns her. Eva wouldn’t tell on her friend, something that bothered Polly.

“Have good reason to keep it. The universe has told me it needs to happen on her terms.” Ada would marry Freddie and little Karl would be born no matter what.

Perhaps she could cushion the news by having it come from her, but Eva doesn’t want to break Ada’s trust.

There was a betrayal in her future, no need to break Ada’s heart even more.

“It’s Freddie Thorne, isn’t it?” the older woman concludes.

“He loves, she loves him and they’ll love each other until he dies of influenza in a couple of years.” Eva answers. It was never about Tommy, something Tommy is too paranoid to see.

Its then she hears it, Campbell ordering his men to ransack the homes of everyone.

Eva tries to separate the cries and shouts in Small Heath from the crying and screaming of when the Americans descended on Veracruz like the vultures they were.

It’s Veracruz, Zacatecas, Celaya and Torreon at the same time.

People scream in terror, artillery goes off each second taking more lives with each explosion and Eva is dizzy as battles meld into each other in the quaint little house she’s in.

The young witch braced herself and leaned on the back of a chair as unwanted memories filled her head.

When the police kick the door open and they ---the police and the witches--- make eye contact, Eva’s eyes go white and she collapses on the floor.

--

“You scared me, Evie.” Polly puts a cold rag on her forehead and calms her down when she wakes up in a panic.

“I tend to do that often.” Eva says casually.

“I found Arthur curled up in a ball when Finn and Isiah were playing with firecrackers the other day.” Polly says softly. “Tommy wakes up screaming sometimes and John cried so much when he woke up and saw he had accidentally hit Katie.”

“Same hell, different war.” Eva lets herself be coddled by Polly, days like this she missed her mother.

“Will you tell me what happened to you?” Polly asked her softly as if se were a child clinging to her mother’s skirts.

Eva just shook her head and changed the topic. “Is granny alright, the dementia makes her frightened very often.”

“She’s fine, Mrs. Ross lied to her and told her you were just under the weather.” Polly assures her.

“Please don’t tell Tommy about this.” Eva pleads.

“I won’t.” Polly lies.

[linaxart]

Andromaquỳnh Secret Santa 2021

My secret santa gift for @abnerskrill who wanted affectionate Andromache and Quỳnh in a historical setting! So here's them cuddling on past South Viêt Nam + some words under the cut for kicks 💗

ID in alt text. don't repost. click to enlarge.

Andromache leans back against the tree with a sigh and watches with amusement as Quỳnh promptly lays down in front of her. Her head nestles into the cradle of her legs and unable to resist, Andromache gathers her hair to run her fingers through it. It’s tangled and a little rough from the journey -their whole bodies are in truth- but Quỳnh hums in pleasure at the sensation nevertheless.

The remains of last night's campsite are on one side, their boat safely secured on the other. They visited the village today and the day has left them exhausted. It’s the good kind of exhausted, body tired with mind invigorated. Quỳnh finally wanted to come back so of course, Andromache followed.

Her home village was long gone, lost to an invading force or civil war in the meantime, but the region retained its identity. Andromache herself hadn't been here for centuries. When she came back to find Quỳnh, that had been in the arid desert, not this lush, green landscape.

“So? How does it feel to be back? Does it still feel like home?” she asks as she finishes untangling a section. There’s many more to go and it doesn’t make much sense to do it when they’re about to bathe and get it tangled all over again. Andromache could spend an eternity with her hands on Quỳnh’s hair.

Quỳnh is silent for a moment, evidently thinking it through. She showed many things to Andromache on the market, at times delighted to find them and others disappointed when her questions about wares were met with blank stares.

“In some ways,” she recognizes. “Not in others. The air does, somehow.”

Andy scrunches her nose. The humid jungle air doesn’t agree with her.

"It's thick."

It makes Quỳnh laugh. She reaches out and grabs one of Andromache’s hands, playing with her fingers before intertwining them.

"It is. It's full of smells. I've missed that. I didn't even realize that it was so distinct. Now that I'm here, though, I can't believe I forgot it in the first place.”

“That happens." She can't mask the mourning in her tone.

“How about you? Do you miss home?”

“I didn't have a home,” Andromache replies immediately. At Quỳnh’s distressed sound she clarifies. “Well, I never did in the physical sense. We weren't stationary, we travelled where the seasons and our horses took us, you know that. We had the mounds, where we buried our clan members but that wasn't home, just a place we returned to.”

Quỳnh's eyes take a mournful sheen as she turns to stare at her upside down.

"Oh, please don't, this is not sad. Home for me was my clan, my family," her mouth twists to the side, their faces are blurred, but sometimes she thinks she can remember snatches of voices and laughter. Little bits of stories shared around campsites. "I get what you mean about the air, though," she says, scrunching her nose against the thick air. Hers was thin and sharp, crisp in a way that the jungle is not. "Home was my people. Now," she caresses Quỳnh's long hair, the black threads as smooth as silk now. "Now you're my home, my clan, my everything, nhà em."

"Andromache," Quỳnh breathes out, her voice thick and Andromache congratulates herself. There aren't many things that can bring Quỳnh close to tears.

"It's the truth," she reassures her, one finger trailing her cheekbone now that Quỳnh has turned to look at her.

Her dark eyes regard her, soft and depthless. They are one of her favourite things of her beloved. In those dark depths, so different from her own pale irises, Andromache can see antiquity reflected back at her. Their bodies remain young and spry, bounce back from the harshest of injuries. It's only their eyes that age. Andromache has spent thousands of years searching for a pair that even resembled her own. And here they are, right in her reach and filled with love.

"You and me, mình anh."

"Until the end."

.

nhà em: (term of endearment) my home

mình anh: (term of endearment) myself/my everything

[lavendermin]

if all stars fell at once (1) | xiao

pairing | xiao/reader

word count | 3k

genre | fluff, light angst, developing relationship, overall domestic

warning | eventual smut

The memory comes clear as the crystalline waters at the harbor. That day when rain poured mercilessly upon the land— the boy in a mask whose body trembled under an invisible burden. You remember the dark splotches on his body being washed away by downpour.

Blood.

Polearm supporting his body as it heaved, his face slowly turned to face you as an ominous dark mist accumulated around him. And when you blinked, it was as if he was never there; replaced by rain.

Whether it was the haze of sleepless nights getting to you or reality, you still had yet to know. Curiosity was fresh in your mind. His presence… though brief, held immense power and a tainted aura; enough to instill fear in the hearts of any who witnessed them. But you stood there, unwavering and eyes alight with awe and curiosity despite the rain that hailed mercilessly around you.

Weeks continued, and the image of the boy remained somewhere in your subconscious. Days came and went as your mind remained hazed, clouded with the fleeting memory.

The dark clouds overhead brought in strong winds; a sign of a storm rolling in. The laundry hanging outside would surely be swept away at this rate. Quick on your feet, you hurriedly pulled them off the clotheslines. Yet despite your efforts, a couple handkerchiefs you had embroidered were blown away by a harsh gust of wind.

“Ah…!” Despite your attempt, the wind plucked them out of reach. All you could do was helplessly watch as they were carried by devious winds further down the mountain.

Those were for… Ah, I guess I’ll have to redo those, you pondered anxiously. If they were all to be delivered in 3 days, you would have to stay up fairly late just to finish replacing them.

The candle light cracked and flickered as night crept over Liyue. No use stalling. With a sullen crack of your neck, you shut the windows and got to work. The relentless rain was your sole company as you worked through embroidering the replacements well into the night. Despite the nimbleness of experienced hands, numbness settled in after hours of working tirelessly to replace the delicately embroidered handkerchiefs. And with patterns and threads so intricate, they weren’t something you could rush.

The moon came and went that night, having accompanied you behind the storming clouds as it rained and ceased. Yet, late the next day when you returned from running errands, there upon your open windowsill were two neatly folded handkerchiefs safely held in place by a beautiful stone. You examined them— with no doubt, the ones that were swept away.

And as a breeze picked up once more, you didn’t dare look back but hoped the wind would carry your words to the deserving.

“Thank you.”

:

.

.

That was the first time in over a millennia that Xiao was thanked by a mortal for one of his many silent deeds.

———

Soft colors of fading blue and powdery orange iced the sky with the setting sun. You reminisced past memories fondly as you picked a few herbs from your personal garden. The day was slowly dwindling to a lethargic end, but the land ceased to fall into rest to savor most of what the day had to offer.

“Do you remember that, Adeptus Xiao?” you asked with a fond smile. It was met with silence for a moment before a voice spoke up from the roof of your house.

“So, you knew I was here. Mortals truly are something I cannot understand,” he clicked his tongue, shifting to get comfortable where he rested comfortably on your roof. “Or perhaps, it’s that our ties are too strong. Curious…” He pondered to himself, brows slightly furrowed as he contemplated.

With a stretch of your back you stood up, basket in hand. “I know my grandmother’s home is rather quiet here in Qingce Village, so I’ve noticed the roof has become a favorite spot of yours,” you observed with a small shrug he couldn’t see. “Call it a hunch.”

Though he wouldn’t admit it, Xiao knew your guess was right. With your home tucked furthest away at the top of the village, there were seldom any onlookers in the tranquil area. A perfect, stress-free corner for him to visit.

With a huff and trained grace, he hopped off the roof on playful winds and followed you indoors. There was still a cautious air about him but never the same as when you first met him all those months ago.

It seemed like you understood him more than he understood you sometimes, and it puzzled him to no end. Mortals were usually more predictable; working in routine and habits as he had seen of the many centuries that passed. Or… at least he thought. It was no secret that he found mortals to be indecipherable.

In the small kitchen, he was presented with an enticing dish that you laid out; his favorite, no doubt. “Here. I’m heading out to the harbor to run some last minute errands, but you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like,” you reassured him with a smile. “Thank you for keeping me company today.”

At your genuine, radiant smile, Xiao couldn’t help but avert his gaze shyly. Truthfully, it always caught him off guard to be thanked for such trivial things that were somehow meaningful to you.

Before you reached the front door, Xiao called out after you. “If you are out late, summon me— call my name. I will guide you safely home.” With firm reassurance, he held your gaze under piercing amber. “Promise me this. Do not be reckless.”

There was no fighting the grin that lit up your face. “You worry for me, Adeptus?” you teasingly prodded, and placed a quick peck on his cheek. “How unexpectedly cute of you.”

At the gesture, his eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his composure returned. Pensively, he folded his arms across his chest, and you swore he could practically be pouting.

“The safety of Liyue is my duty as an adeptus. As a tool to be used, and nothing more.”

There was a brief sorrow reflected in your eyes, and before Xiao had a chance to address it, you were hurriedly giving your final goodbyes with your usual warm energy.

“I promise I’ll be safe.”

Left to himself, he accepted your gifted offering of almond tofu. I love the way your eyes practically sparkle when you take that first bite, you once teased.

The memory picked up the thrumming in his chest— uncertainty accompanied by rose-dusted cheeks.

With each delicate bite, his mind upheld more questions. The feelings that burst subtly in his chest— what were they? He searched his heart for answers to describe it. Peace of mind? Loneliness?

As many times as his mind decided to go through the same painful cycle of thoughts, ultimately he was left with more questions than when he started. There were no answers within him.

Such as the moon replaces the sun and the days dwindle into night, he too would let it be for now.

And as the sun slowly retreated more and more behind mountains and thin clouds, Xiao couldn’t help but wonder why he continued to keep near you. A tie foraged with a mortal that strangely did not instill the overwhelming need to leave.

Even the room he was in caused no discomfort or suffocation. The cycle started once again as he wondered, why? He often resided at Wangshu Inn, but never in a room. The rooftop high above any wandering souls was his claimed accommodation. The balcony just below that was seldom used by guests was the only other space he occupied there— eyes able to survey the land from a higher vantage point.

However, here in this small shelter you called home there was none of that, yet he stayed. Curiously, his eyes wandered the room to take in the oddities and trinkets that were used as decorum. The bookshelf across the room posed with great importance, and as he approached it he took in the vast collection of books and small items that decorated some empty sections.

Gloved fingers grazed over the elegant, gold-foil titles of some of the books. Some he has partially read before, or listened to you read aloud while he rested on your lap under the large tree outside.

He found himself plucking one out tentatively, flipping through some pages of a thick storybook with worn corners. Another book from the shelf— a thin book of floral poems and sonnets. His mind idly worked to put together what these books could possibly say about you.

After neatly putting another book away, a small glint caught his eyes. Toward the end of one of the shelf rows was a pile of three books with a precious stone sitting atop them.

Ah, the cor lapis stone he had used when he silently returned the two missing handkerchiefs to you many moons ago. An unknown feeling settled in his chest, warm & persistent. It flourished— euphoric, almost, and not too unpleasant. He wondered if it was somehow related to similar chest pains he’d dealt with. Could he really call it ‘pain�� if it wasn’t truly hurting him? The feeling was foreign and he was utterly clueless.

He moved the stone to check the book underneath, flipping through the pages curiously. Amber eyes indifferently skimmed through a page his finger landed on, curious to what contents the vague title held.

A romantic novel from the looks of it.

The words were needlessly descriptive, the dialogue a little confusing to understand. Such flowery language was a bit bold and the more he read, the more the imagery they tried to paint became vivid in his mind and—

Xiao quickly shut the book, his face warm as he neatly returned the book to its rightful place. Well, it was an interesting book to have in your possession, to say the least. He didn’t have much experience with what it described, but the erotic imagery the dialogue described still left his face a little flushed and brows furrowed as he huffed in indignance at his flustered state.

Mortals do such things? Well, he knew they did, but he was never one to look into it more since he had no reason to.

He had no experience in such intimate matters, nor did he pay much interest in them with his hands usually full on a daily basis. Yet, somehow the thought of you now caused a swirl of emotions inexperienced by him before. Or rather, if he did, he no longer remembered. New questions piled up in his mind.

He shook his head, practically wincing at the odd sensations that kicked him low in the gut as the heat rising high on his cheeks subsided.

“How bothersome,” Xiao muttered to himself with a sigh.

On that same train of thought, he glanced out the window. The sun was merely a whisper that remained as it tucked itself farther behind mountains and dipped below the horizon.

Gloved hands momentarily clenched by his sides, flexing to ease the small seed of doubt. Mortals were unpredictable and reckless, that much he was aware of. With a sigh he watched as the sky over Liyue settled into the tranquility of night.

Though night had fallen, there was still no sign of you returning.

And so, Xiao set off on his usual routine. Out he ventured to vanquish the scattered hotspots of evil activity that surfaced. Be it from subdued gods or his own karma, Xiao relentlessly made quick work of any and all evil.

It was his eternal duty, as bound by contract from the Geo Archon himself—this he knew. If anyone should have witnessed his swiftness as he worked solemnly, they would’ve noticed how he worked just a little harder to clear out any evil nearing your usual route home.

The moon rose high in the sky, a dusty blue as it cast soft light over Xiao’s masked form. His polearm jabbed into the ground and dissipated along with the yaksha mask he donned for battle. The roads that led back to Qingce Village were all cleared, yet still no sign of you.

Approaching the marsh under blue moonlight, his gloved hands created ripples in the calm surface. The reflection of his concerned eyes stared right back at him through the tumultuous ripples that distorted his reflection over playful waters.

Under the watchful eye of the moon, Xiao diligently washed away the impurities that remained on him from battle. Clear waters surrounding him became murky before clearing once again as the blood and grime was carried further down with the current. Xiao closed his eyes and allowed himself to bask under the moonlight, taking in the rare moment of tranquility.

And then it rang out, soft and clear like a wind chime dancing with the gentle breeze.

Adeptus Xiao.

Shrouded by darkness, he answered your summons. As the thin veil of dark entity surrounding him dispersed, he found himself next to a bridge. The waterfall behind him brought a refreshing breeze, and just beyond him he could see Bubu Pharmacy below as well as the harbor.

“You called,” Xiao inquired. “It’s fairly late.”

He wasn’t here to admonish you, though it sounded very much like it. With a playful grin, you smiled up at him from where you sat on the grass next to the bridge.

The way you carried yourself without a care in the world— it was almost endearing how you looked up at him with such fondness.

“Can I ask why you’re here of all places?”

Your nimble fingers continued their work on the flowers you had in your lap, and you almost looked away bashfully. “I wanted to gaze at the stars for a bit,” you admitted sheepishly. “I finished my errands earlier, but then I ran into Mister Zhongli from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and, well… The conversation went on for a while and we ended up here.”

Silently, Xiao took a seat next to you, eyeing the handful of glaze lilies that softly glowed on your lap.

“What did you talk about?” he inquired to fill the silence. He delicately twirled one of the glaze lilies between his gloved fingers.

“Oh… this and that,” you shrugged.

Xiao hummed in response, not wanting to pry into the conversation, until he felt the softness of petals brushing his forehead.

“Mister Zhongli… he showed me how to make this.” There was hesitation in your downcast eyes, and you peered up at him through your eyelashes. “Do you like it?”

“A crown of… glaze lilies,” Xiao noted slowly. Their soft fragrance was delicate and sweet, like the gentle presence of the moon. It reminded him of you. “I’m unfamiliar with mortal customs of exchanges. Is it an adeptal offering?”

You blinked, taken by surprise at the question before sputtering out in a fit of giggles.

“Oh– No, no! This is what we call a gift.”

Xiao furrowed his brows, taking in this vague description. “Hm… I see. What meaning does this gift have?”

You perched your chin on your finger, contemplating. The only ‘gifts’ adepti were familiar with were the offerings that few who went before them brought. Usually, an offering entailed the bargaining of a mortal’s wants and desires to come true. Selfish, wishes he was all too familiar with hearing often.

“Gifts are given to people you consider special,” you started. “To those people who are important to you, usually you put extra effort into the gift. Handmade gifts as well… embody special significance since they hold all the feelings poured into them to be given to your special person.”

The chirps of crickets and running water soothed over the momentary silence as he took in your explanation. Mortal customs were more emotionally driven than he once thought.

“I see. Then,” Xiao delicately tucked the glaze lily he held into your hair. “This is my small offering.”

The rose that dusted your cheeks as your grin lit up your features, it bloomed his chest with that foreign warmth. The weight of reciprocating the gesture without a second thought— he had just openly admitted to considering you a special person. It felt… right.

In the lateness of the cool night, you both sat side by side looking out at the display of glittering stars. He felt as your pulse would briefly quicken under his gloved hand whenever you stole a quick glance at him, and he would offer a gentle squeeze of reassurance in response. Curious, this human next to him— and yet he found himself enraptured by your simple presence.

Across the endless sky, you halted what you were idly chatting about as a speckle of light shot across the sky.

“A falling star… There’s rumors that making a wish on them will help it come true.” Xiao hummed in response, eyes closed in peaceful tranquility. “Hm…”

You pulled your knees closer to you as you contemplated your wish. Xiao watched you with one eye open, observing the way your features subtly scrunched up as you profoundly debated within you what your wish would be.

“So.”

“So?”

“What did you wish for?” Xiao asked quietly.

Mortal desires were usually the same. Wealth, power, lavish items— these wishes Xiao had heard of many times before. Yet—

“I wished…,” you scratched your cheek sheepishly. “I wished for a restful sleep.”

Your cheeks were quick to flush a deep crimson as you heard what sounded like a chuckle next to you. It dawned on you that you had never heard Xiao laugh until now. It was melodic, innocent.

“D-Don’t laugh!” you halfheartedly admonished with a playful huff. “Well, then— What’s your wish, Xiao?”

He pondered for a moment, closed his eyes and spoke soft as the flitting breeze.

“I wish to get to know you better.”

Perhaps he didn’t have all the right words at that moment, but he was bound to discover them sooner or later. Somehow, he was sure you would be the light that guided him the right way to go about these foreign feelings— feelings he was sure weren’t malignant, so he allowed them to persist.

These unsorted feelings for you... they weren’t getting in the way of anything. They were harmless, until proven otherwise.

[harrypotterbrainworms]

Growing Love

Summary: Neville is the best plant scientist man and y/n is a little dumb dumb, but loves his smart boyfriend.

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Male Reader

Key: (Y/N)- your name.

Word Count: 1028

Neville sat quietly to himself, smiling fondly at the beautiful bloom he had created. It felt nice to be good at something for once. He’d taken such care with the now not so small plant. It’s soft blossoms freshly awake upon hearing Neville’s cooing and encouragement. It almost looked like it leaned towards him with its fragile frame as Neville tendered to its aquatic terrarium. Four small bottles of honey with different labels sitting in front of four similar terrariums.

“Can I taste it now?” (Y/N) impatiently tapped his foot against the stool as he hovered around the project. Neville shook his head at his boyfriend as he took down his daily plant report.

‘Week 3, Day 23, flower blossoms unaffected by picking. Roots intact and water level not past an acceptable level. Counter potion to the weed taken-‘ He tries to think for a minute, then looks at his watch ‘1 hour and 23 minutes ago. Taste test 1:’ He sighs, looking at the different bottles and then back at (Y/N).

“Are you sure you want to do this? I could’ve made an error or missed a step or messed with the breeding-“ He was about to list every one of the cons on his pro and con list for this project, but (Y/N) stopped him.

“Free honey? Duh, I want to. We took a counter potion made by yours truly. I have full confidence in potion skills” He sat proudly, pointing at the half empty foul tasting potion they had drunk.

“Your funeral.” He sighed again, warily picking up the first bottle and a spoon.

“OUR funeral.” (Y/N) clarified which made Neville look a little sick. He took his hand and placed it on Neville’s forearm, squeezing it in reassurance.

“Hey, hey. You’re an expert at this, Longbottom. You’ve been on this-“ He vaguely circled his hand around the crossbreeds. “When this succeeds-” “If.” “WHEN this succeeds, you’re gonna be a legend. Imagine the big fat HUGE book you’re going to write about these beauties. I’ll read it, even if I don’t understand a word” (Y/N) smiled, making Neville a bit better exploiting his boyfriend’s taste buds.

Neville gulped as (Y/N) took the spoon into his hand, opening up the first of the four bottles. “Not too much.” He put a hand on his boyfriend worryingly so. “I know, I know. You’ve explained it 500 times.” He took Neville’s hand away from his own to dip into the honey.

(Y/N) dipped the spoon in, pulling it out to let it dip down slowly. Taking care to make sure there was only a thin film of honey covering it. “This one is?” He asked looking up at Neville. “Dandelion gillyweed crossbreed honey. It’s supposed to taste good according to…” He looked down at the recipe book on the table, the name ‘Alice’ with a vicious scribble next to it and an arrow pointing up to replace it with ‘Longbottom.’

“A-according to mum.” He said after a small pause, (Y/N) gave a nod and licked the spoon, his eyes widened as he looked back at the honey and back at Neville continuously. Once his mouth wasn’t attacking the honey, he took a breath and spoke.

“Wow. That was… that was delicious. That was incredible! That… that doesn’t taste like anything I have EVER tasted.” He exclaimed, beaming up at Neville who looked back at the cookbook with a blush creeping on his face.

“I thought that m-maybe giving the gillyweed a sweeter taste combined with the previous things discovered about dandelions could…” He trailed off on a usual dump of information, something about the stomach acid properties of dandelion roots and the gillyweed effects on immune system responses. He couldn’t understand most of it, but the way Neville explained it made it sound interesting enough. (Y/N) couldn’t stop looking at his eyes lighting up and the sweetness of the honey he just sampled that when Neville went quiet and looked back at him he barely registered it.

“Neville?” He smiled fondly at his boyfriend, making Neville swivel his head back to the report, writing something he was sure was of some importance.

“Yeah?” He replied as nonchalantly as he could without acknowledging the redness of his face. (Y/N) came up behind him and hugged him from behind, placing a little peck into the back of his neck.

“Keep going.” He hummed satisfied to listen for another day if Neville needed it. He always noticed Neville’s best was when he could bounce ideas around others and this was by far the most complex experiment he had come up with.

“If you insist,” Neville smiled to himself as he wrote down a little note ‘thank you gift for (Y/N), very important!!!’ scribbled next to the sketch of the dandelion/gillyweed hybrid.

After an hour of tasting, testing, and reviewing the honey. (Y/N) concluded that the first one tasted the best, followed by a very lovely looking somehow purple lavender honey that he swear tasted like Year 3 summer making Neville’s blush worsen. With the sun low below the clouds and the potion wearing off, they decided it was time to get dinner and sleep finally.

“Are you sure I didn’t bore you?” Neville nervously fidgeted with a frayed end of his tie, twisting and twirling at the thread.

“For the millionth time, Neville Longbottom, no! If I didn’t enjoy watching you dork out about plants, I don’t think I would be here, would I?” He pulled Neville down by the cheeks looking him in the eyes with a fiery ‘Say another bad thing about my boyfriend and I’ll kiss you so hard’ look on his face and a little determination.

“No” Neville frowned under the cheek holding and (Y/N) sighed.

“Exactly, I love your nerdy little brain” He pulled squished Neville’s cheeks toward him scrunching up his nose,then pulling his face in, he went for a kiss on the forehead, cheek and then lips.

“Now when are we going to test it for real, huh?” He smirked, looking back at the jars of honey and notes.

[nihyunluvskookie]

my birthday with her~

Bang Chan one shot

Pairing: Bang Chan × Female reader

Genre: Fluff with a bit of angst

Warnings: no warnings as far as I know

Word count: 1.9 K

Author’s Note: It’s his birthday, one of the best leader, best human, I love him a lot and I have no words how much, i am just blessed to have him, I am just grateful.

“Chan, get ready we are going out for dinner tonight”

“okay”

“Chan, just listen to me, son it’s fine.” Mum left after this, I went to my closet and picked the black silk shirt, my favorite and wore black jeans, I was wearing all black, how can I not wear black on my birthday. We literally had a feast in lunch and now they are taking me out, I should be the one taking them out, this is my first time spending my birthday here after I debuted. And I hope… I hope I get to see her today…

“Come down in 20 minutes, everyone else is getting ready”

“Mum I am supposed to take you all out tonight”

[Flashbacks]

“This is my first time going back home in September, this is my very first time celebrating my birthday with my family after debuting. I just feel happy Lix”

“I am happy for you and I hope you meet her”

“Lix?”

“Yeah?”

“Meet whom?”

“What do you mean by whom?”

“I mean whom?”

“You know it very well, and all of us know but we don’t ask you anything because it should be you if you want to open up with us about something. I just hope you at least hug her; you seem to miss her and how can she not try to find you because we go to Australia for tours. This way or that way I just hope she finds you or you find her this time. I really want to ask her what did she do to you.”

“Lix, she didn’t do anything and she’s just a friend okay?”

“I can see how much this friend matters to you”

“Lix!”

“You are still not scary, now go see your parents are waiting and mine too, and let’s meet soon” Felix hugged me and I was still looking at his face, that silly and teasing smile didn’t leave his face. I spotted Felix’s dad, he waved at me and Felix left me there. I have no idea how this guy got to know, since I never told anyone and was it that obvious, last time we came to Australia and it was 2 years ago, and that’s where I felt I saw her but I couldn’t meet her because I was unsure since that day, she never left my mind. How can I not recognize my childhood bestfriend and how she never tried finding me, what was stopping her?

 [Present]

Felix’s words were not leaving my mind, everything he said on airport that day, I hope I meet her. It’s been more than 10 years, I saw her and I doubt she even remembers me, I wish she does.

After getting ready I went down and saw the lights were off, probably because everyone was outside already. I went to dining hall and I heard mum say “Channie” I turned back and I heard party popping sounds and saw a birthday cake,

“Happy Birthday Chan~” it was mum and then lights were on, oh my god.

Felix was there, few of my friends and ….she was there? If I am not wrong, if I am really not wrong, she was there standing between my friends, smiling cutely, her dimples looked cute on her and she was wearing a white floral print knee length dress, a daisy pendent, hair down and it looked perfect on her, her face didn’t change she still have that cute face. I was amazed, I just couldn’t understand what I was feeling, all the emotions, I was happy, overwhelmed and felt loved, as if all the love was making me feel these emotions.

“Chanie hyung come here make a wish and blow up these candles.” I went near the cake, I closed my eyes and made a wish; after opening my eyes I blew the candles and cut the cake.

I looked at the room, it was decorated so beautifully and they did it, everyone was smiling, everyone came and hugged me gave gifts, there I saw her talking with my mum.

Lix came and hugged me tight “Once again happy Birthday bro.”

I smiled at him “Thankyou Lix” we broke the hug, suddenly Lix came near my ear and whispered “She’s pretty” I was taken aback. I looked at him with disbelief on my face, “How are you sure, it’s her?”

“I have my ways and instincts”

“Lix”

“Go talk to her”

He left me there, I wanted to talk to her but I was way too shy to even ask her how she is, I am seeing her after nearly 12 to 13 years and I don’t know how would she even feel to talk to me, and all these years we never contacted eachother, it was just me who saw her two years ago when I came to Australia and that was also not face to face, I just happened to see her. I was about to take a step closer and then I saw her getting a call and going to upstairs.

I decided to follow her, I can gather some courage and even if I am nervous doesn’t change the fact, she was my bestfriend even though I don’t know what we are right now and why am I feeling like this; all these unknown feelings are keeping me awake and making me feel things I never felt. I pushed all my thoughts aside, and went to upstairs, and then I saw her going to the rooftop. I saw everyone going out because mum called everyone to the backyard and Felix just smiled at me, I went to the rooftop.

“I couldn’t give the flowers to him but don’t worry I will give him, now bye. I will call you later!”

I saw her hanging up and resting her hands on the railings, she sighed. I took steps towards her. She turned around definitely hearing my footsteps.

“Oh! Hey!”

“Hey…”

I went near her. She looked so beautiful under moonlight, she looked just like an angel. Her cheeks had a tint of pink, she looked beautiful when she smiled and her dimples were showing.

“How are you?” I asked her, I don’t even know how to start a conversation

“I am good… you?”

“Me too”

“Happy Birthday Chan”

I went closer to her, our hands touched… accidently and she pulled her hand, abruptly. I felt a bit sad but I held it inside me and when I looked at the beautiful her who stood under the moonlight. She was shining, she had a halo… I couldn’t believe that we were this close, but somehow… she felt so distant.

It was a spur of the moment thing, but I felt like this was my last chance.

I took a deep breath, got my emotions under control, at least tried to and whispered, “Maple… Do you remember me?”

It felt like the world went still… I could hear my heartbeats, I could feel my heart thrashing loud against my chest hard, really hard.

The silence went for too long and I thought I should break the ice but before I could--

“Chan… how can I even forget you” the air felt heavy, everything felt so heavy right now, there was no overwhelming feelings anymore, it was replaced with sad, disappointment, curiosity, longing, reminiscing and sighs.

“Then why did you never try to find me?”

“Chan…”

“Maple…”

“Why?” I asked her again

“Chan, you left me alone here, what was I supposed to do, I cried for years, I missed you. Nothing felt the same anymore, why was everything so hard. I waited for you all these years so you would come.”

“Maple…”

“Do you know how hard it was for me? and when I saw you here today, I was taken aback, I was surprised when your mom called me a week ago and told me you’re coming and she wants to throw a party and I’m invited since I am your bestfriend. I waited to meet you, and today we do, my emotions were a mess, Chan do you even have any idea how hard it was, to tell myself that one day I will meet you one day and I always thought you forgot about me since, you never contacted me, I don’t know why, I thought you made new friends, forgot about me, and that’s why I never contacted you, I was scared, scared of losing you and hearing ‘who are you?’ from you, that’s a simple rejection. You have no idea how it was for me. and since last 5 years, things were very downhill for me, I always wanted you by my side but I shut down myself from everywhere, I stopped meeting everyone I was just alone. Chan we were kids, when you left, I always thought you would be that friend who left me and both of us will forget eachother as we grow up, this is how it looked like, years passed, no calls no texts, leaving without a goodbye or see you again? but you left and how could I even believe the lie when you were my bestfriend, mine. I grew and all my emotions started becoming stronger, missing you? Feelings are a mess, emotions are a mess and I never knew looking at you like this right now, my heart would get anxious, beat so fast for you, which was very expected but unacceptable for me, I don’t even know what you are thinking right now. And you ask me why I never tried finding you? It’s because I shut myself off, these feelings were growing day by day and I was holding a hopeless thread and was scared, and didn’t even know if I will ever meet you or not and whatever I’m feeling is wrong, I can’t feel like this to my bestfriend, are we even friends now?”

“Maple…”

“What Chan? Just what?”

“I missed you”

“I missed you more-

I couldn’t hold back anymore; I took her into my arms, we both were a bit stiff, but with each passing breath, she relaxed. I felt her face against my chest, I was hoping that I didn’t make a fool out of myself as my heart had gone out of control… but I probably did cause I heard her chuckle.

Let’s just say the time and situation felt too unreal but surreal at the same time, I wanted to make this moment last a bit longer and asked her something, that my sane self would never.

I whispered into her ear, “Can I kiss you?”

‘ahhhhhhhhh… Bang Christopher Chan …did you JUST do That? Did you really ask her if you could…umm…her? On the first day?’

I felt like I couldn’t show my face to her… someone dig me a hole, I want to bury myself there for eternity.

Just when I was thinking of ways to go into the past and hit myself hard before I asked that to her, I felt some movement and looked down.

‘Did….Did she just nod?’

I pinched myself…’ah’ it hurts?

She looked up… It could be a filter of a guy in love, but her eyes really held all the stars in the world… they looked mesmerizing.

‘This is your chance… Be a man’, I told myself and pulled her closer and kissed her. First it was just me, then she gave in. She was holding the hem of my shirt and my hands were resting on her waist.

[ashdoesfandomarchieved]

of all i am made of (perhaps you are too)

ao3

Hugo does not believe in soulmates.

To be fair, he doesn’t much believe in anything but the feeling of coin in his pocket and the clever bite of his dagger. What use has he for god and destiny when he carves his own path of lies through time, with a sharp tongue and a cocky smile.

Why should Hugo believe the universe would gift him a soulmate when it already has made it perfectly clear that nothing is free?

Besides soulmates are rarities of the past--legends and folktales on the lips of elders and religious fanatics; the former clinging to superstition from the od era, the latter feeding false promises and hope to the instupid masses.

Soulmates are for hopeless romantics and tiny children. Not for Hugo.

“That does not surprise me,” Nuru says, the beginnings of a smile forming on her face.

She’s lying down in the golden field where they’ve set camp for the night. The contrast of the bright yellow against her dark skin is stunning-particularly in the moonlight, with her dark hair fanning out about her head.

Hugo, who is sitting upright a few paces away and playing with his daggers, frowns.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, unsure if he should be feeling defensive or not.

Nuru folds her arms beneath her head, propping herself up enough to make eye contact with him. “Even if you had a soulmate, you wouldn’t know what to do with them,” she scoffs.

He snorts. “ You believe in soulmates?”

“Is that so surprising?”

“Yes, actually. I thought you were the rational one in this party.”

Nuru gives him an expression that indicates how stupid she thinks he is. “I might be the only person who can keep their head in a crisis, but that doesn’t mean I can’t believe in a higher power, Hugo.”

She rolls over, so that she’s laying on her stomach, facing him. “Burning stars fall in my homeland every year. There are stories of a sun princess who’s tears heal the dead. Varian somehow hasn’t strangled you yet. I think you’d better start believing in a god.”

“Or soulmates apparently,” Hugo mutters.

“Or soulmates,” Nuru says. “Would it really be that far-fetched?”

“Do I believe there’s someone out there who shares my dreams? Or has my name written above their heart? Hard pass, Princess.”

“Alright then, how about sharing the same soul?” Nuru asks, folding her hands together and resting her chin on them. “You’re telling me that doesn’t sound at least a little romantic?”

“I don’t have a soul.”

“Now that,” she says, a grin stretching across her face, “that I can believe.”

___

“I think Anya’s my soulmate,” Yong says dreamily, staring at Varian’s redheaded cousin like she hung the fucking moon.

Hugo, despite secretly adoring the round child, rolls his eyes. Hard. “Do you even know what that means?”

“It means we share the same time threads,” Yong replies distractedly.

Varian and Anya are nerding out over something-something Hugo would find interesting or fun to mock them over, but right now, for some reason, he’s more interested in Yong’s adorable-if not misguided-crush on Varian’s little cousin.

“Time threads,” Hugo laughs, cracking his knuckles. Yong winces at the noise, momentarily taking his eyes off the two babbling alchemists. “Alright, color me curious. What are time threads?”

Yong frowns. “You’ve never heard of time threads? Every child in Koto learns about them.”

Ah, must be some religious poppycock only spread in the fire kingdom.

“Well, I’m not a child living in Koto, am I?” Hugo replies lightly. “Spill, little pyro.” He pokes the kid in the shoulder repeatedly until he gets swatted.

“Her lady, Odiyesi, spins a thread for each person,” Yong recites in a sing-song voice. “This thread contains the beginning, the middle, and the end of our lives. If she so chooses, two threads will be intertwined-maybe even beyond the Snip, if she wills it.”

“The Snip?”

“Oh yeah, that’s when you die,” Yong says, side eyeing Hugo.

Hugo ruffles Yong’s hair. “And you think Anya is your thread partner. That’s so cute .”

Yong ducks out from under his hand, scowling. “Why did you ask if you don’t even believe it?” he mumbles, face pink.

“You know what I think?” Hugo asks, pretending like he doesn’t hear Yong. “I think you should go right up to here and tell her all that. Give her a heads up about your eternally bound souls.”

“Your soul is eternally bound to the underworld,” Yong shoots back, with a surprising amount of fire.

Hugo bursts into laughter. “That,” he says, “is the first thing you’ve said all day that makes sense.”

___

“What do you think about soulmates?” Hugo asks mildly. He has a glass of wine in one hand, but he’s barely tasted it. Instead, he stands, staring out the stained glass window and into the courtyard.

Donella, sitting behind her desk, looks up from Varian’s Ulla’s journal-recently procured by Hugo.

The amount of deception and sneaking around he’d gone through to actually get it out of Varian’s line of sight had been painstakingly difficult. And it had been even harder coming up with an excuse to Nuru why he needed to spend the night somewhere other than their current lodgings.

He doesn’t really remember the lie. Just the trust in the Princess’s face when she’d briefly patted him on the shoulder, telling him to be back by sunrise.

Donella closes the journal with a snap, leaning back in her chair. “What a curious question. And from you, no less.”

When Hugo turns around, she’s smiling that sharp smile-the one that makes his stomach plummet with discomfort. Something in him churns at that dangerous expression now, unsure of what he’s suddenly gotten himself into.

He gives a casual shrug, raising his glass to his lips. “Just making idle conversation, I suppose.” The wine tastes terrible. Still, he takes another sip before setting it down on an end table.

“Hmm.” His mentor eyes him skeptically. “What do I think about soulmates?” she muses, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “I suppose the proper answer would be that I hate them.”

He frowns. “So you don’t believe in them?”

“You can’t hate something you don’t believe in, Hugo. Of course I believe in soulmates.” Donella must see the surprise in his expression because she laughs after a brief pause. “I would be hard pressed not to believe in them after seeing it with my own two eyes.”

Hugo blinks, startled. “You met someone with a soulmate?” he asks, disbelieving.

“You could say that.”

“How do-how did you know they were-”

She opens the stolen journal again, long scared fingers deftly flipping back to her reading place. “Because I could feel when she was in pain. Now shut up, Waif, I still have three quarters of this tedious reading to get through and only five more hours to do it.”

___

Even though Eugene has decided to make the conscious effort not to kill Hugo, the guy still shows mild animosity. And by mild, Hugo-of course-means that he drags him around, making him do tedious tasks and scowls whenever he gets close to Varian.

Whatever. It’s not as if Hugo’s going to complain, considering that it’s mostly his fault there was a demon monster briefly unleashed onto Corona that destroyed most of her capital city. As long as Varian isn’t blaming himself, Hugo calls it a win.

So he lets the Prince Consort drag him around the city and put his alchemy to work.

“You don’t have to stay,” Hugo says, at one point, when it becomes apparent that even though Eugene has no idea how alchemy works , he was still going to hover. “I’m not going to cut and run.”

The man had snorted. “Yeah, I already figured that one out for myself,” he’d muttered and then proceeded to not explain what that meant.

So here Hugo is, with an ever present shadow, hovering like he’s a fucking five year old. Hugo honestly doesn’t see what Varian sees in the guy-or Queen Rapunzel for that matter. She looks at the ex-thief like he hung the moon and all the damn stars in the sky.

“It’s because they’re soulmates,” Eugene’s buddy-Lance, Hugo thinks-had said when he caught him staring.

Hugo had scoffed.

Now, bored and overheated after a long day’s work, Hugo watches Eugene frown over some blueprints in the Queen’s study. Hugo’s not exactly sure why he has to be present for this particular part of the renovation project, but he’s too tired to protest.

“Are you and the queen soulmates?” he hears himself asking.

Eugene lifts his head, eyes alight with surprise. He glances back down at the blueprints once, before leaving the table to join Hugo by the open doors leading to the balcony.

“Weird question, coming from you,” he snorts, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms. “But yes. We are.”

Hugo doesn’t know what to make of that. “How do you know?”

The older man hesitates, something like understanding dawning on the man’s face. A small smile crosses lips. “Have you ever met someone that no matter how many times you tried to walk away, you couldn’t?”

Hugo swallows.

“That’s how I know. Now,” he claps Hugo on the shoulder. “If you’ll stop messing around, I need your opinion on whether Yong’s demolition idea or Varian’s solvent solution is going to work best for the lower district’s avalanche problem.”

___

At the end of all things-or perhaps the beginning-Hugo finds Varian on a rooftop.

It’s not hard to find him, as when Varian is brooding, he likes to perch. It’s a habit that the alchemist has either picked up from spending most of his time in a castle with high roofs or perhaps it’s born of chasing his dumb racoon into precarious positions.

Either way, Hugo learns early into his friendship with the darkhaired boy, that when he’s being introspective, he likes to pick a high roof and perch like a fucking woodland creature.

So when Varian goes missing in the middle of Corona’s lantern festival, it takes precious few minutes to find him.

“You are so predictable,” Hugo says, dropping down next to him. Heights don’t usually bother him, but the castle is impressively tall.

The other alchemist doesn’t really seem to mind, however. He lets his legs dangle over the edge, occasionally swinging in the air.

“Or maybe I wanted you to find me,” Varian replies easily. His head--tilted up, toward the stars that are mirrored in the constellations of freckles on his face-is wearing a peaceful expression.

Something in Hugo’s chest clenches tightly at the sight of it. There was a time, not too long ago, where he was convinced he’d never see Varian happy again.

But now, Varian turns his face toward Hugo and offers him a smile. “Or maybe I’m just predictable to you.”

The tightness in Hugo’s chest dissipates. What is left aches for something he can’t have.

“Or that,” Hugo says, instead of doing something stupid like trying to hold Varian’s hand or kiss the stupid expression off his face.

Varian turns back to the stars.

“You know, they say shooting stars fall in the direction of your soulmate.”

Hugo rolls his eyes. “Not you too,” he groans, eliciting laughter from his friend. “I thought out of everyone, you would be on my side here.”

“Aw, don’t believe in soulmates?” Varian teases, grinning boyishly. “Sun and moon, I should have expected that.”

“Yeah?” Hugo raises his eyebrows. “How so?”

“You’re so cynical. And not in the way Cass is-she’s like realistically -cynical. You’re just oh poor me I could never have a soulmate because my soul is made of garbage -”

Hugo clamps a hand over Varian’s mouth, shrieking when he tries to lick him. “I- stop -I don’t have to listen to this slander -”

“-and if you ever did find your soulmate you would be insufferable about it,” Varian goes on, catching Hugo’s wrist when he tries to silence him again. “You would spend the entire time trying to prove to yourself and everyone else that there was no possible way they could be your soulmate and when you couldn’t you would-”

He stops. Blinks at Hugo with realization dawning across his face.

Hugo’s wonders if Varian can feel his pulse racing where the smaller boy’s fingers wrap around his wrist.

“Yeah? What would I do?”

Varian’s lips purse. “I don’t know what you would do. I’d hope you would be smart about it.”

He lets go of Hugo.

Hugo immediately misses his warmth.

“And what would be the smart thing.”

“Well,” Varian draws out the word thoughtfully. He scoots close enough to Hugo that if the taller boy wanted he could wrap and arm around his shoulder. “Well, an excellent start would be telling them.”

“And how would you tell them? If it were you,” Hugo adds quickly, when Varian shoots him a questioning look.

Varian leans back on his hands, head tipped back, exposing his throat to the sky. “I would tell them my heart started beating at the same time as theirs when we touched. That there’s a silver dagger inked on my shoulder that burns when they’re angry and sings when they’re sad-”

“Varian.” Hugo’s heart clenches so hard he briefly wonders if he’s having a heart attack.

“-I would tell them that I dreamed in color the first night we lay side by side in the forest,” Varian goes on, ignoring him. “I would tell them that when we touch I see every color-even the ones that don’t belong here.”

“Varian.”

Hugo’s hand finds his soulmate's.

Varian turns his head to the side slightly, finally meeting Hugo’s eye. With his free hand, he cups the side of Hugo’s neck, tentatively.

“I would tell him that our souls are made of the same thing.” He smiles gently. “It’s just science, Hugo.”

Hugo laughs, pressing his forehead into Varian’s. “How is that the most romantic thing you’ve said yet?”

“Because you’re a closet nerd,” Varian says, right before he leans in.

Underneath a starlit sky, Hugo kisses the boy made of the same stuff as him.

___

[sgtjbbhasmyheart]

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Two

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2921

Warnings: bad language words, blink and you’ll miss the angst, just some fluff

A/N: divider credit- @firefly-graphics

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission

You awoke with a start, feeling as if you were late for work or something important and forgot to set your alarm. Your heart beat an erratic tattoo against your ribcage. Scrambling for your cell phone, you blindly reached across the side table near your bed in a panic. Unplugging the phone, you brought the device an ungodly closeness to your face. It was only 6:17. On Saturday.

Your pulse throbbed behind your eyeballs, and a strange stickiness coated the inside of your mouth. Did you drink that much last night?

How could you not? Timmons was a fair boss, and you enjoyed your job, but that dude loved the sound of his own voice.

The quarterly business dinners were mandatory for all employees, even for the P.A.s. Typically, they weren’t so bad, but last night, Timmons felt the need to toot his own horn for landing a massive contract with Stark Industries slash The Avengers. He went on and on about how great it was for the firm.

He was like a giant kid in a candy store with his ramblings. ‘We will be promoting the face of The Avengers and everything that goes with it,’ he spouted off like the firm was god’s gift to public relations.

You groaned at the reminder of last night’s presentation. The contract wasn’t even in effect yet, and you were sick of the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Timmons could be a real buzz kill.

Rolling to your back, you brought your phone up to tap the screen to read the emails you received overnight. On display was a text from 11:04 by someone named James. It read: “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

Your mind went back to last night again, trying to recall who this James was. He must be significant if you plugged his contact information into your phone already. Had you met someone last night?

Drawing a blank, you clicked on the text bubble to pull up the thread. Briefly scanning through the numerous texts, everything came rushing back. In an attempt to text your sister, Robyn, you mistakenly texted this mysterious, James.

You felt like an utter buffoon when you learned he wasn’t Robyn. You always did have a way with the cute boys. Probably why you were single. You groaned out loud as you read on.

You im safely inside my apartment. Pretty sure no one followed me home

James Did you triple check the lock on the front door?

You yes dad yeesh

James There are a lot of bad people out there. Just want to make sure you’re safe.

You sounds like you watch the news too much but its sweet of u to care

James I know from experience.

You r u the bad guy or have u been the one mugged?

James Let’s just say I have friends that have dealt with the bad things of the world.

You right i almost forgot ur a military-trained assassin athlete mchottie

James Did you ever send your sister a text?

You shit thanks for reminding me i have such a crazy story to tell her

James Only good things, I hope.

You oh yeah all the good things an enigmatic yet handsome stranger cares more about my safety than any of my ex-boyfriends ever did.

James My ma raised me right.

You id say

James_ I hate to cut this short, but I think you need your rest. Especially if you’re meeting your sister tomorrow._

You i dont want to agree but ur probably right

You whats ur name btw?

James My name? Why? Do you plan to continue texting me after tonight?

You duh ur fun to talk to

James Oh.

You or not its cool if u dont want to

James It’s James.

You nice to meet u james im (y/n)

James Nice to meet you as well.

You my sister just texted me back and were still meeting at 9 i should go 

You goodnite james

James Goodnight, (Y/N).

Oh. My. God. Had you seriously drunk-flirted with a stranger and offered to keep texting him? You had no shame with a few drinks in you.

You brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose and sighed loudly.

What did you know of this James? He had a New York area phone number. Check. He could have been a real dick about your mistake but wasn’t. Understanding. Check. He worried about you getting home safely in your inebriated state. Caring. Check. Not too forthcoming with the nine to five. Secretive. Check. His mouth looked so soft and plush, and his eyes were made to drown in. Gorgeous. Check.

A heat simmered beneath your skin as you recounted the shortlist you’d made. Were you lusting over someone you’d exchanged less than forty texts with? Had you somehow woken back up in high school?

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you stared at the screen displaying the message thread. Were you really considering this? You nodded your head to answer your own question. Where was the harm in a little shameless flirting? If worse came to worst, you could always block him.

With your mind made up, you began typing into your phone, constructing an apology.

You Good morning! First off, I want to apologize for the way I behaved over text last night.

You Though, I do like to imbibe in the occasional drink or two, I am, by no means, a lush.

You Please take everything I said with a grain of salt. Apparently, I get loose-lipped and cheeky with free wine. 😐

You Again, I’m sorry and understand if you wanted to cease our correspondence for my behavior.

You blew out a breath and tossed your phone aside. It was up to fate now and a stranger named James.

You laid in your bed for several minutes staring at the ceiling, contemplating between whether to send a ‘haha just kidding’ text and what the weather would be like, so you could forego shaving your legs in the shower today.

Your phone chimed during the pondering of hair removal, indicating a new text. You knew it was James proclaiming you a freak and to forget his number, but secretly, you hoped it was Robyn canceling today.

Seizing the phone from your mattress top, your heart’s beat increased with each second you went without looking at the screen. Finding the courage, you flipped the device over to read the message.

James Quite the formal apology, Ms. Professor.

You smiled at the text. It didn’t tell you to pound sand or eat shit. No, it was teasing and in jest. You sighed in relief.

You Cease our correspondence too much?

James No, no it was perfect if this was 1863, and you were breaking up with me via telegraph.

You Stop!

James Exactly! ‘Never speak to me again!’ Stop. ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’ Stop.

A belly laugh disrupted the tranquil air of your bedroom. You quickly thumbed out a reply once you caught your breath.

You You’re incorrigible.

James I’m glad to see you are using proper capitalization and punctuation this morning.

You Ha!

You When you are buzzed and/or tipsy, capitals and periods be damned. Like you’re so perfect when you’re drunk.

James We all have our flaws.

Was he implying he was a sloppy texter when drunk, too? You shrugged it off as him being cryptic again.

You What are you doing up so early on a Saturday? I didn’t wake you, did I?

You were suddenly stricken with guilt. You should have waited for a more reasonable hour to send out rapid-fire apology texts. Not at 6:36 in the morning. You didn’t want last night’s behavior hanging over you, though. Better to clear the air now than later. You could always ask for forgiveness again if you had disturbed his sleep.

James I had just gotten back from my run when I saw your texts. I have training this morning.

You Oh, right. For your hush-hush, super top secret mission/quidditch game.

You You ever gonna tell me what you really do?

James_ Maybe. Someday._

How far away was someday? Was he planning to text you until you both died or until he got bored? How did texting relationships even work?

You Or is it one of those situations where if you told me you’d have to kill me?

James 😈

You There you go again--being all mysterious.

James Keep ‘em guessing and coming back for more.

You Has that strategy worked well for you in the past?

James Got you to text me again this morning, didn’t it?

You scoffed at what he had suggested. He was correct, but your stubborn streak would deny everything.

You The only reason I texted you this morning was to apologize for acting like a drunken fool last night.

And to squash the curiosity burning in your veins. But he didn’t need to know that.

James Oh.

The reply caused you to furrow your brow and your stomach to drop. You regretted not adding more levity to your last text. Of course, it wasn’t the only reason you were drawn to him.

You I appreciate that the selfie you sent wasn’t a dick pic. And you genuinely seemed to care about me getting home safely. Thank you.

You And maybe- a teeny, tiny bit- is honestly interested in getting to know you better.

You waited on pins and needles for his text, watching the pulsing ellipsis on your screen. Was he just humoring you?

James Hook. Line. Sinker.

Reading his response generated a flush from your jaw to your hairline. You growled in embarrassment. You fell for the oldest trick in the book. He baited you for a compassionate answer, and you delivered beautifully. Hook, line, and sinker, indeed.

You You’re an ass. I take everything back.

James Don’t be mad. I wasn’t sure how it was going to go, but you played into my trap wonderfully.

James If it makes you feel any better, all kidding aside, I want to get to know you better too.

James I fell asleep with a smile on my face last night and woke up with one this morning.

James Because of you, (Y/N).

A flutter broke apart in your chest. You hadn’t time-traveled back to high school; no, this was junior high territory.

You You’re lucky you’re so damn charming, James.

James Doll, you have no idea.

The subway ride into Manhattan usually gave you the chance to get a little reading in since it took nearly fifty minutes from Queens. Not today, though. You spent the entirety of the train ride texting back and forth with James. It was mundane stuff, but you were getting a grasp of who James was as a person.

You Favorite color?

James Black. You?

You Blue.

You Favorite ice cream flavor?

James Chocolate. Yours?

You Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia.

James I didn’t realize we were getting specific.

You We weren’t, but that’s my favorite.

You Favorite movie?

James I like the classics- The Wizard of Oz, It’s A Wonderful Life, Frankenstein.

You I have too many to list, so don’t ask.

You Okay. Lightning round because I’m almost to my stop.

James Where are you going again?

You paused your reply for a brief second, wondering if you should divulge your destination. You’d known James less than twenty-four hours; although, it felt like weeks after this morning. Where was the harm in telling him where you were meeting your sister? There were nearly nine million people in this city. There was no way you’d ever bump into each other.

You A bakery in the Upper East Side called Two Little Red Hens. Ever been?

James Don’t think I have.

You Well, since you like chocolate, they have a fantastic cake called Brooklyn Blackout. Super rich but delicious.

James Sounds right up my alley.

You Cats or dogs?

James I’m gone too much, so cats.

The answer piqued your interest. Maybe he was an athlete. Wouldn’t it be practice and not training, though? Or he’s FBI or CIA.

You Socks on or off for sleeping?

James Off.

You Silver or gold?

James Silver.

You Morning, noon, or night?

James Night.

You How do you take your coffee?

James Room for sugar and creamer.

You Boxers or briefs?

James Boxer briefs.

You laughed out loud, looking around the subway car to see if anyone was paying attention to you. Per usual, they weren’t.

You Touché.

As soon as the train stopped, you gathered your purse close to your body and made for the exit. You followed the crowd of fellow passengers through the turnstile and ascended the stairs onto street level.

The morning sunlight caressed your skin like a warm blanket. The humidity wasn’t too bad, yet, but the threat of afternoon thunderstorms still hung in the air.

Even with the reasonably early hour, the sidewalk was stuffed with people, carrying to-go coffee cups or shopping bags. You fought for your little spot of real estate on the grimy concrete.

Stopping at a red traffic light, waiting to cross, you typed out another question for James.

You Pineapple on pizza--yay or nay?

The light changed as you finished, and the throng of pedestrians around you guided you across the street. You spotted Robyn outside the bakery as your phone dinged with a new text alert.

“Wow, I’m surprised you made it on time,” Robyn said as you hugged hello.

You looked at the clock on your phone. 8:58. “You and me both, sister.” Glancing back at your phone’s screen, you giggled.

James What kind of monster puts pineapple on their pizza??

“What’s so funny?” Robyn asked as you accompanied her through the bakery’s door.

With a grin on your face, you punched out a quick reply:

You Well, it was nice knowing you, James. It was a swell friendship while it lasted--a whole 11 ½ hours.

Robyn elbowed you softly in the ribs with a look on her face, seeking an explanation.

“Ow,” you grunted. “What?”

“You tell me. I half expected a zombie to walk through the doors today after your text last night. Not Suzie Sunshine.”

You both edged closer to the counter as the line in front of you dwindled.

James Say it ain’t so, doll! Pineapple on pizza? Really??

You let out a low chortle as you skimmed the text. You glimpsed up at Robyn as you shuffled forward in line again. “Believe me, I’m pretty hungover,” you replied, shoving your phone in your back pocket. “It’s a funny story. I’ll tell you everything when we sit.”

Robyn stared at you warily, still trying to figure out what had come over you. “Okay,” she conceded, stepping to the register to order.

With each of you supplied with an iced coffee and a peach ginger scone, you found an empty table by a window along 2nd Avenue and proceeded to tell Robyn about James.

When you stopped to catch your breath, remembering the whirlwind the last twelve hours had been, you peered at your sister for her reaction.

She stared at you like you’d grown a second head. She shook her head in disbelief. “(Y/N), what where you thinking?”

Your brow pinched in confusion. Was she actually scolding you? You crossed your arms over your chest. “I was thinking about how my big sister is always telling me to meet new people and how it’s time I thought about settling down.”

“Not like this it’s not,” she hissed. “This is how your body parts end up in someone’s freezer!”

You choked on the piece of scone you shoved in your mouth before she started ridiculing you. After coughing to clear your airway and taking a sip of your iced coffee, you leered at Robyn. “Oh, my god! Dramatic much? Have you been binge-watching Dateline again? Jesus Christ, Robyn, he’s harmless,” you countered.

“You think you’ll be so careful, but you’ll let one little detail slip, and he’ll find you,” Robyn said before taking a pull from her coffee.

“You mean, like, how I was meeting you at Two Little Red Hens at nine o’clock?”

Robyn’s mouth popped open in an O. “What the hell, (Y/N)?” she stage-whispered. “Are you trying to get yourself kidnapped and sold into sex trafficking?”

“Please,” you drew out in one long syllable. “He doesn’t know what I look like. How would he snatch me?”

“He could look you up on Facebook.”

“Without a last name?” You shook your head, no.

“What about a reverse search on your number?” Robyn asked, pushing the plate holding her scone away. “That’s a thing.”

“Perhaps, but it seems like a lot of effort for a mistake I made. It wasn’t like he was seeking me or anyone else out.”

Robyn huffed out a breath and folded her arms in exasperation. Always the protective big sister. You could tell you were breaking her down, though.

“C’ mon, Robbie. It’s all in innocent fun. I’m not saying I’m hoping he’ll turn out to be Mr. Right, but the banter is fun,” you remarked. “James is charming and witty and nice to talk to.”

Robyn shook her head once more, frowning. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

You reached across the table for her hand and squeezed gently. “Me too.” You smiled slyly, remembering last night’s dinner and Timmons gushing about The Avengers. “If not, I know how to get ahold of a couple of centenarians who know chivalry isn’t dead.”

Chapter One | Chapter Three

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[tiifalockhart]

Freckles

Pairing: Zack x Sephiroth

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: None

A/N: This is for a dear friend of mine’s birthday <3 Happy birthday Ana, I hope you like your gift!! Inspired by her obsession with Sephiroth’s tiny freckles in AC <3

Masterlist || Ao3

A secret that Sephiroth somehow managed to unintentionally hide was the fact that he had freckles. 

The moment Zack realized it, it was like he fell in love all over again. 

It wasn’t an easy task to get close to Sephiroth, both emotionally and physically. Sometimes, it felt like you were speaking to a brick wall whenever you came into contact with him. He was formal and polite... That was about the best most strangers could describe him as. Sephiroth didn’t really open up to anyone, and anyone who wanted to try had to work very hard for it. There were very few people he naturally bonded with... One of those people being the “puppy” of SOLDIER.

Realistically, Zack was the only one close even to get a good look at Sephiroth’s facial features. The silver haired SOLDIER rarely let someone get close to him, even if they dared to. Most people were simply too intimidated to look him in the eye. 

Zack knew Sephiroth’s face like the back of his hand (mostly from the many hours he’s spent admiring and kissing it). He knew the way his cat-like pupils reacted to the lighting of the room, the way his face would get a pink tint whenever Zack said something mildly inappropriate. He knew the way Sephiroth would apply his mascara to hide his white eyelashes or the slight pout that would form on Sephiroth’s lips whenever Zack would take too long to join him in bed. Zack even knew the curves and strong features of Sephiroth’s face, his fingers trailing along with his cheek and jaw bones seemingly unendingly. The most enchanting part of Sephiroth’s facial features would be his tiny freckles that decorated the top of his cheekbones and nose. 

Sephiroth’s freckles are an easy feature to miss. No one knows where they came from, especially since none of Sephiroth’s supposed fathers or mothers had freckles. Perhaps it was from the sun from his many missions, but the rest of him never seemed to adopt this same tan (imagine the tan lines, though). It was a mystery for sure, but Zack hardly gave a damn about where they came from. 

The puppy’s favorite pass time quickly became kissing or counting Sephiroth’s freckles. Zack would squint and attempt to count them from across the room as if it was some kind of a game. Lazard definitely wasn’t seeing things when he saw Sephiroth’s cheeks turn slightly rosy from Zack’s gaze during a meeting one day. 

Every other day,  Zack would happily hold Sephiroth against his chest and recount his freckles, especially during their slow days. Zack continued to make ridiculous claims that Sephiroth had somehow developed yet another freckle. Most conversations went about the same. 

“Forty-five.... Forty-six.... Forty-seven.... Oh?....” Zack counted off as he examined Sephiroth’s face. The silver haired male was currently napping beneath him, lulled to sleep by Zack’s hand running through his hair. He nearly jumped out of his skin at Zack’s loud and dramatic gasp. “You have another one!! Forty-eight freckles!” He cheered. 

Sephiroth’s frown quickly turned into a pout as he sat up, removing himself from Zack’s lap. “You’ve interrupted my nap... Again.” He muttered, a sigh of defeat leaving his lips. “And I don’t have another freckle.” The SOLDIER added, moving over to the coffee machine and preparing for the evening. 

“You definitely have a new freckle.” Zack insisted, a proud smirk on his lips as he admired his boyfriend from afar. Sephiroth couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his lips. He knew better than to deny Zack, considering that Sephiroth never actually developed more freckles. Zack, frankly, was just terrible at counting them and would recount the same few freckles over and over again. 

...And Sephiroth had a lot more than just forty-eight freckles.

After a quick glance in the reflection of the metal in their microwave, Sephiroth let out a satisfactory hum. “It seems that I do.” He agreed formally, his straight face breaking as soon as Zack’s arms wrapped around him again. 

“Told ya.” Zack purred, that same proud grin decorating his lips. Sephiroth’s cheeks heated up at the touch, causing him to stubbornly look away.

“Don’t stare at me like you did the other day again during our meetings. Lazard asked me about the other day... I had to come up with a weird excuse.” He explained, handing Zack his overly-sweetened coffee before making his own bland and bitter black coffee. 

“Weird excuse?” Zack asked, pulling away and not really bothering to hide the smirk. “What did you manage to come up with? It’s not every day someone sees the hero himself blush.” He teased, replacing the ever-growing smirk with his coffee mug. 

“I... Do not wish to talk about it.” Sephiroth replied, looking away as he sulked. The images of Lazard’s disapproving gaze slowly changing into a knowing smirk will haunt Sephiroth forever. Zack could only let out a hushed chuckle as he shrugged it off. 

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, big guy.” He answered, reaching up to ruffle Sephiroth’s hair. The first class SOLDIER glared at Zack, an obvious gleam of playfulness in his eyes. 

Sephiroth ran his fingers through his hair, fixing the mess that Zack had made as he examined the younger. “It seems you wish to run more laps today, Zack.” Sephiroth quipped, causing the younger to raise his brows in surprise. 

“Hey, who told you that you could go all ‘Big Boss-man’ on me?” He complained. Apparently, it was Zack’s turn to pout as Sephiroth moved on from the kitchen, heading towards his bedroom to change. 

“I did. I hope you’ll be dressed before me... The track is looking quite lonely today otherwise.” Sephiroth continued, a smug glint in his eyes as he disappeared into his bedroom. 

Naturally, the two of them ended right back in the same spot later that night. Zack was cradling a sleepy Sephiroth, his fingers threading through his silver hair. Sephiroth wasn't much of a cuddler, especially with people who happen to be younger than him. Zack was very.... Proud, to say the least. It isn't just anyone who can make the top SOLDIER melt under their touch. Not even Genesis or Angeal had the same experience as Zack did. Zack definitely took this as a blessing and an ego booster. 

As much as Sephiroth dreaded it, he would occasionally feel the gentle brush of Zack’s free hand against his cheek as he once again counted the freckles on his face. Eventually, Zack will move on, Sephiroth thought. He will soon.... Right?

Sephiroth ended up being very wrong. How was he supposed to reject those heart-wrenching and cursed puppy eyes? Eventually, the counting exceeded past just counting. It grew from simple admiration to kissing. Sephiroth’s face would always end up with a slight pink tint by the time Zack moved on from decorating each of his freckles with two kisses each. 

This obsession also resulted in... Weird nicknames. Sephiroth, admittedly, wasn’t quite sure how he felt about most of them. They ranged from pretty normal names to something he would name a dog. For example, “Speckles” was certainly somewhere in that grey area. Over time, Sephiroth found himself growing more and more used to these... “Nicknames,” even responding to those that sound absolutely ridiculous.

Any time Sephiroth would come home to Zack, a bright grin was always present on the younger’s face. It made his heart swell... The thought of someone caring about him enough to be excited to see him every waking moment. “Good evening, Zack.” Sephiroth greeted somewhat formally, still adjusting to the whole ‘boyfriend’ concept.

Zack looked up at his lover. “Evening, cupcake with sprinkles.” He chimed, catching Sephiroth off guard. The silver haired male stopped in his tracks, slowly turning towards the other. 

“...What did you just call me?” He questioned, a confused and slightly bewildered look in his eyes. Sephiroth swore he had misheard Zack.

Zack laughed quietly and pushed himself off the couch, giving Sephiroth his greeting kiss. “Cupcake with sprinkles?” He replied, the statement sounding much like a question. “No good?” Zack asked, grinning at the older SOLDIER. 

Sephiroth, attempting to suppress the red color on his face, looked away. “It’s quite... Unique.” He answered, attempting to salvage Zack’s feelings. “However, you have come up with better in the past.” He continued, pulling away and stepping into his bedroom, beginning to change. 

Zack leaned against the door frame and raised a brow, crossing his arms as the smallest smirk formed on his lips. “Oh yeah? Like what?” He hummed, a somewhat teasing tone to his voice. Sephiroth’s mind began to swarm with the many, many terrible names Zack managed to come up with. Don’t get him wrong, he found it quite endearing... But at the same time, it was just downright weird stuff sometimes. 

A stifled cough left Sephiroth’s lips as he searched for an answer, before sighing in defeat. “...I thought freakles was quite unique and amusing.” He confessed, rubbing the back of his neck as he slid past Zack. 

Zack’s eyes lit up with admiration and interest, he obviously wasn’t expecting that answer. “You liked freakles? Out of every other nickname I’ve ever come up with?” He questioned, a hint of surprise in his voice. Sephiroth sighed in defeat as he grabbed some leftover food out of the fridge. 

“It is certainly better than ‘cupcake with sprinkles.’ I am not a cupcake, Zack.” Sephiroth explained, attempting to bite back the smile that was fighting its way to his lips. “Freakles was... Witty. I liked it.” He explained, crossing his arms as he turned towards Zack. 

Zack raised a brow and nodded lightly. “Who knew you liked dad jokes so much?” He retorted playfully, winking at the older. Sephiroth scoff as he watched his food spin in the microwave. 

“I only like them because you never stop telling them.” He pointed out, raising a brow. “You’re worse than Angeal’s old jokebooks.” The first class SOLDIER teased. 

Zack pouted up at his boyfriend, crossing his arms stubbornly. “I think you meant better?” He argued playfully, his voice holding an astronomical amount of sass. Sephiroth merely rolled his eyes and grabbed their food, placing it on two plates for them both. 

Eventually, this obsession Zack had developed moved onto simple admiration. Zack constantly had eyes full of love for Sephiroth. It was absolutely adorable to some (like Angeal), and really gross to others (like Genesis). The puppy would get in the same pose every time, his chin would rest on his right palm, his lips would curl into a pleasant smile and his gaze would hold love in it, as if he were falling in love with Sephiroth all over again. There was a point in time where Zack was no longer afraid of people finding out about their relationship. Hell, what is there to be afraid of? 

Sephiroth could always feel Zack’s gaze on him, but it didn’t bother him. He had grown used to his unreserved displays of love. PDA had never been something that Sephiroth was fond of, but he would let Zack get away with a lot of it. Most of the time, Zack would pepper kisses along his freckles. Other times, Zack would simply hold his hand, looking like he was the proudest SOLDIER out there. Sephiroth... Admired Zack for his explicit nature when it came to love, he personally could never imagine being so open with the public in such a way. In some weird manner, this open display Zack constantly put on was some version of security for Sephiroth. Surely this meant that they were in it for the long run? Sephiroth wasn’t going to complain, he loved Zack and wanted him to know it at all times as well. 

So, from the moment they started being more open about their relationship, there was hardly ever a moment in time where Sephiroth felt lonely and unloved. Zack was always by his side, giving him words of encouragement and kissing each of his freckles. Sephiroth couldn’t ask for anything better at this point. He felt safe knowing that he won’t ever lose Zack.

...And that his crazy nicknames finally stopped.

[thecagedsong]

Forgotten Light: Chapter 9: Leads

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Chapter 9: Leads

“Caretaker, I present Ruta, Hollea, and Mizelle, Dryads of the South and East forests, to present their case to the caretaker,” Henrick bowed and the ladies stepped forward. Official business must be what let them walk on the road.

Agad whispered behind Seth, “Ask them the nature of their visit.”

“Ah, welcome,” Seth said, feeling a little silly, “Um, what is the nature of your visit?” His mouth quirked up at the pun. They all looked a little familiar, they must have crashed the Zzyzx opening and closing party.

“That information is private,” a blue haired one, Ruta, said. “It regards the recent adjustments of leadership and a possible danger to the fae of this preserve.”

Seth glanced at the sun, he’d guess it was a little past 10 AM, “Uh, how long is this going to take? Because if we could meet up tomorrow, that would work so much better for us.”

“I believe you will want to hear us now, Caretaker Sorenson,” the middle one said, standing a bit behind the other two. Pure black hair was tied up in a bun, rounded narrow black eyes demanded respect over high cheekbones. She was the only one armed.

“Alrighty then,” Seth said, turning to Agad, “Uh, where’s the best place to talk with…our friends?”

“Ladies, please follow me,” Agad said with a bow.

When the four of them were a little ways away, Seth stepped up to Henrick, “Hey, you missed some important stuff,” Seth whispered, “Grandma and Grandpa are in the winter study, they need your help and can catch you up. I’ll check on you guys after this, but you can go on without me.”

Henrick nodded, then reported at normal volume, “My rounds on the preserve show that everyone is restless. Far more restless than they usually are, so soon after the solstice when they tend to be tired. Repairs to the roads are happening on schedule, the Taurans have settled back into their domain, and many creatures are awaiting news of the next confrontation between you, your sister, and Celebrant.”

“I wouldn’t want to disappoint my adoring fans,” Seth joked, “I’ll make sure it’s a good one. I got to go.”

Agad had just turned a corner around the outer wall, and Seth ran to catch up. Sitting there was a room like the safe huts along the road. They weren’t restricted to mortals, however, and Mizelle was seated at a round table with seven chairs, while the other two waited outside.

Seth walked in, took a seat opposite the dryad and said, “Okay, what can I do for you?” he wished the other two dryads were here, Mizelle scared him a little.

From a pouch at her waist, Mizelle produced an hourglass, and turned it over. The number four was embossed in gold at the top. Mizelle glanced at him.

“Ah, nipsie. You are welcome at this table, if the caretaker gives you all his confidence,” Mizelle said graciously.

Once again, Seth had completely forgotten about his friend. A slight jerk in the corner of his eye where Agad was standing suggested that the wizard had too. Whoops, sorry about all those secrets.

Seth took Calvin from his pocket and placed him on table. He bowed, “My lady.”

Mizelle smiled, “Rise, small sword. Know that while the four of us talk, none can overhear us. This trinket thought up and enchanted by my sister Nika ensures that.”

“Marvelous,” Agad said, examining the item.

“Yes, but we are here for business,” Mizelle said, “Specifically, your sister, where she is, and what she is doing.”

“Do you know where she is?” Seth asked, “Ronodin and the Sphinx captured her after she lost her memory. We’re looking, but haven’t found anything yet.”

Mizelle slammed a hand on the table, “How could you let that happen!”

“Hey, Ronodin got the drop on Bracken,” Seth shot back, trying to cover up that she had made him jump, “I don’t see why Kendra is any more at fault than him.”

“Oh don’t worry, my brother won’t be spared my ire either. The fool just barely got out of captivity, and he so quickly jumps back in.” Mizelle spat. “When will that fool learn to keep his horns where he can see them!”

Seth pulled back, “Wait, brother?”

Agad blinked, “Excuse me for not recognizing you earlier. You are a unicorn?”

Mizelle nodded, “I am the eldest child of their royal majesties, and the leader of the warrior fairies of our realm.

“You’re… more intense, than I expected a unicorn to be,” Seth admitted. He’d met Bracken, the Fairy Queen, and the Fairy King, and he’d never seen a look as intense as the one that Mizelle was shooting him right now.

“Yes,” was all she said. “I take it Kendra did not explain the full nature of her abilities?”

“I am familiar with the abilities of Fairy Kind,” Agad said. “But I fear their nature is a closely held secret. I assumed it functioned similar to how fairies share their power with the fairy struck.”

Mizelle nodded, “Kendra had permission to inform her brother and grandparents. It appears she did not take it. Kenda is literally a receptacle for the Fairy Queen’s power in the mortal world. It is similar to the relationship between the Fairies and their fairy struck, but instead of a gift of shared magic, it is an open spring. She is a direct connection to Mother and the magic that fuels Fairy Realm, and therefore, is a direct weakness. This is the secret, and of the few people that understand this magic, Ronodin does.”

Seth paled, “Ronodin is hurting Kendra?”

Mizelle shook her head, “Worse. It appears he is taking advantage of her memory loss, and teaching her to poison her magic and my mother by proxy. He is leading Kendra quickly down the path he used so many years ago to corrupt his own horns.”

“Kendra would never do that.”

“That is obviously what my Mother thought,” Mizelle said drily, “With effort and training, Kendra is able to use the wellspring of fairy magic inside her and craft magic. Not as a wizard or a unicorn crafts, but as mortal does. Should she tend to a herb garden, those plants will take on magical properties. Should she weave thread with intent to protect, the cloth will become armor. When trained, her abilities are a fairy’s creation magic inspired by human emotions and ingenuity, a power Mother should not have released on the world so easily or in one so young, but here we are. Ronodin is teaching her to craft curses and items to harm and poison. It will pervert her magic, and the effects will reach straight into my mother’s heart.”

“Oh dear,” Agad said, head sinking into his hands. “I am getting too old for this. How is the Fairy Queen?”

“She is attentive and well-attuned to her magic. She noticed the change immediately, and analyzed it as much as she could before cutting her connection with Kendra completely. An unfortunate necessity, especially since my mother can’t undo the changes she wrought in Kendra and is merely cutting the girl loose, but it is the only solution that slows down the taint.” Mizelle said, “Kendra is much farther from aid than we feared.”

“What do you know about where she is?” Seth asked.

“Kendra was in the realm opposite my mother,” Mizelle explained, and held up a hand at Seth’s outraged look, “Not the demon prison. The realm of the Underking. Demons can survive surrounded by light, and as my father has shown, beings of light can survive surrounded by demons. The denizens of the Underking are fundamentally incompatible with my kind. Their darkness will extinguish our light, and our light will extinguish their darkness. Many fairies have died, trying to light up the darkness for even a moment. Mortals refer to the Underking’s domain as the Phantom Isle.”

“How does the Queen know that’s where Kendra is being kept? Does she know where the Phantom Isle is currently located?” Agad asked.

“It is part of the connection Mother shares with Kendra, is it unequal to even what she shares with her family.” Mizelle said, massaging her temples, “The magic flow remained strong, but that is the only place on earth where her senses are truly dulled. Ronodin is somehow protecting Kendra’s light from going out, but he is only preserving it in order to mutate it. If he corrupts Kendra to a level near his own corruption, the source that Kendra and Mothers draw from will become poisoned, and the realm of light falls.”

“Okay, Phantom Isle, how do we get there?” Seth asked.

Agad shook his head, “It moves around. It has connections to our world all over the place, but very few beings are able to utilize them. The Underking’s realm is the home of phantoms, zombies, liches, wraiths, and every other possible thing that made a deal to give up living for longer life.”

“Okay,” Seth said, “Not a popular vacation spot. Is it an actual island? Cause that explains the barrel underwater bit.”

They both nodded. Mizelle didn’t consider any information about barrels to be important, and didn’t ask.

“Do you know anything else about Kendra?” Seth asked.

Mizelle shook her head, “I can tell you that it will take time to turn her. Mother felt shadows passing over the soul, but that is the first step to a long descent that Ronodin has taken over the course of his life to replace all his light with darkness. However, Ronodin is cunning, he is skilled. It will be that much easier if Kendra has no memories of goodness. Unfortunately, Mother will not be able to continually check on her.

“Think of the source that Kendra and Mother draw from as a well with a pipe directly to the Fairy Queen. From the Fairy Queen, magic flows to all creatures of light. When making Kendra Fairy Kind, Mother expanded the width of the pipe, and created a secondary pull from the Source before the magic reaches her to reach Kendra instead. An offshoot pipe before my mother’s reservoir. Kendra’s poison is travelling back up the pipe towards the source, and to prevent immediate contamination, Mother had to build a wall separating the streams of magic. Because of her actions, it will take the corruption much longer to reach Mother. Kendra will have to poison the source first before it reaches the Fairy Kingdom.”

“That’s fascinating, is that really how fairy magic works?” Agad asked.

Mizelle shot him a deadpan, “No. It is incredibly more complicated. I am describing astrophysics to someone who hasn’t figured out how to make fire yet. But it is a sufficient metaphor for what you need to know.”

“Could you give us a timeframe?” Agad asked.

“That depends on Kendra’s resistance,” Mizelle said. “With the circumstances as they are…find her before the fall equinox. That is the soonest Kendra could reach that level of corruption. Find her as soon as you can, but that is your deadline. We are unable to help you more without declaring another war that we are sorely ill prepared to handle. As a mortal, Kendra does not belong there, but nor is she banned from it.”

“I’m going to get her back much sooner,” Seth swore, meeting the intimidating gaze full on.

Mizelle met his gaze, and when he didn’t waver, she gave him a small nod, “I don’t doubt your courage or will, and I pray for your success. Of all the beings to reach the heart of the Underking’s realm, a shadow charmer has a better chance than most. Not a good one, but you have proven yourself before.”

Mizelle stood up, “Hurry, but do not go unprepared. I will be busy managing the affairs of the Fairy Realm, let no one know of its weakness. You have been a good ally to us before, Seth Sorenson and Agad the Young. Unfortunately, we must rely on you once more.”

There was still a little bit of sand left in the hourglass, and Seth stood up too. “It’s my sister. I’ll dig a hole there myself if I have to.”

“Mortals,” Mizelle said, somewhere between scoffing and amusement, “I did not inherit Mother’s love of mortals, nor did any of my sisters. Only Bracken claims that. In addition to most of her looks, it’s why he is her favorite. I, personally, am still struggling to see the appeal.”

“Wait until we…er,” the sand in the hourglass ran out, “Wait until we manage your request, and you will see what mortals can do when people we care about are at stake. I think you’ll figure out why we’re pretty cool.”

“I await proof, Caretaker,” Mizelle said, offering a hand. Seth shook it. Agad stood up and shook her hand as well.

After seeing the envoy of “dryads” off, Seth didn’t move. He was hoping that any spy had left him for more fruitful pastures after seeing they couldn’t overhear what the dryads wanted.

“Send Marat to the stables,” Seth said, quietly, waving at the departing figures from the archway. “See which mounts are interested in another adventure. Then go to Grandma and Grandpa, if their plans look good, approve it.”

“Where will you be?”

“Shadow hunting. I’ll take a late lunch.”

He turned back towards the Keep, speaking at a normal volume, “Their issue wasn’t that big, right? Henrick can help them.”

“If you tell him to,” Agad agreed. “First we should weather tonight.”

Seth started walking towards the winter study, but sidetracked into a…music room? They had a music room? The map was going to be useful all on its own.

He turned off the lights, drew his sword, and started walking. He tried to turn off all the lights around him, but it was hard when only some of the rooms has electricity. Most were gas lamps, and for about the hundredth time he wished he was a fully trained shadow charmer. According to the Sphinx, a shadow charmer can dim flames, bring cold, and a bunch of other cool stuff that would be really useful for figuring out if there was a spy in the Keep.

He decided to start at the top and make his way down, following Tess’s group wasn’t going to be any good if the spy was doing that already.

Luckily, the Keep was meant to be a fortress, and there no windows on the ground floor. When he approached the winter study, he listened carefully, looking for another spy, but didn’t find anything. Agad was talking about the best way to inform the staff, so Seth moved on.

Seth made his way to the dungeons next, checking various rooms as he followed the strained whispers of the undead. Unable to see in the dark, he stuck close to the walls. He approached the room with the barrel in it, hidden amongst the empty cells. One of the minotaur’s, not Brunwin, was guarding it along with a dwarf.

Seth imagined himself as part of the darkness, and tested how close he could get.

Seth could have stabbed the Minotaur through the chest. He was within the torchlight hanging near the entrance, but with the sword helping him, still the guards hadn’t noticed. Then Seth was actually standing behind the minotaur, reaching for the gate, when the dwarf saw him, cursing in dwarvish, as he pulled his shortsword free.

The Minotaur spun around, and Seth held up his hands without letting go of his sword, “Don’t attack! It’s only me,” Seth said. “Sorry, I was just trying to see how far my shadewalking and this sword could get me without being noticed.

The Minotaur lowered his axe, shaking his head, “I didn’t see you at all. I didn’t smell or hear you either.”

“And you can do all that now?” Seth asked.

They both nodded.

“Okay, good to know,” Seth said, “I’m going to go in the cell, check up on the barrel. Is there anyone in there right now?”

“Agatha,” the dwarf said, “She’s keeping watch over your note.” The dwarf handed him the key.

“We got a believable threat to Blackwell that’s supposed to come tonight,” Seth said, “My grandparents will fill you in soon, but be as vigilant as you can. Okay?”

They both nodded and Seth walked in. Agatha was apparently one of the old women, she was knitting an enormous sock, and smiled pleasantly when she saw him.

“Ahh, Young Master. The letter remains untouched and unmoved,” she said.

“Err, awesome. Good job,” Seth said. He felt a little uncomfortable having the old woman be the last or first line of defense should something happen with the barrel, but something about the click of her needles made him think she wasn’t as harmless as she appeared. There was no one else hiding in the cell with her, so he walked back out and continued towards the Blackwell.

As he wound closer to the Blackwell, he heard Doren, “Look, it’s really not necessary to go closer. Seth even told us not to touch this place.”

“He isn’t the boss of me,” Knox said, a slight tremor in his voice. He wondered how bad it was this close to the Blackwell for people without magical fear immunity, “We should look in, figure out the shape for the map, then we can go.”

“I don’t want to go any closer,” Tess said, almost crying.

“You don’t have to,” Knox said, sounding braver. “I’ll just crack open the door.”  

Seth waited, pulling himself into a little nook around the corner of the prison door. It was round indent, about three feet deep, and he pressed himself to the wall, focusing on listening.

“Well, it won’t open. And if it’s locked for us, its probably locked for everyone one else. Move along now, we still need to get through the first floor before lunch. I for one, don’t plan on missing a meal because we stared at a door too long,” Newel said, “Off we go.”

Seth watched, holding his sword ready. Any tails the group had would have to back track, if Seth remembered right. He kept his eyes peeled for movement, ears alert for the sound of shoes separate from the others. Surprisingly, the ghostly wailing wasn’t overwhelming like he remembered the first time. Seth could firmly place it within his head, and it quieted while he focused on his non-shadow hearing.

His friends passed without a sound. Newel was holding the torch, the rest their papers and clipboards.

Seth waited for Tess to point to him and ask to talk, but her eyes slid right past his hiding spot. He felt the light touch him, but a single torch wasn’t enough to take away his advantage in this area. That meant that while she could see through distractor spells, shadow magic eluded her. It all depended on what the spy was using.

The group continued forward, and Seth waited.

And waited.

He made himself wait longer, just because time flew when you were waiting for something to happen. A trained spy would know that, even though the group was out of earshot.

Nothing happened.

It didn’t make sense. If the spy was tailing this group, which he thought any reasonable spy would be, he or Tess should have seen the person. This was a dead end! The spy wasn’t tailing his grandparents, he didn’t think. Any plan of the Sphinx’s and Ronodin’s wouldn’t be thwarted by increased security. Did the person stick to Agad, knowing the old wizard was the most powerful of their group? That didn’t seem right either, Agad had been as clueless as the rest of them in the meeting, and Seth had put him on magic defenses, which were already confirmed to be holding strong. Tailing Seth? The Dryads and Mizelle’s item would have found the spy if they were using distractor spells, and Seth would have found them using shadow disguise magic.

Sending two children and the satyrs through the nooks of the lower levels clearly presented the most unassuming group, and therefore the most suspicious. Considering they hadn’t even considered a spy until mid-morning, the spy wouldn’t have assumed Seth to be a good enough strategist to do what he did. Seth hadn’t been banking on the spy following this group, but even if the spy wasn’t listening in on the War Room meeting, the four of them tromping through the underground should have caught the spy’s attention.

Seth was looking at this wrong. Or maybe it was crazy, thinking there was a spy already here. Maybe the spy had known about the dead end and hadn’t bothered to follow them towards the Blackwell already, and instead stopped before —

Seth froze, then immediately forced himself to relax. He stood up straight, as though getting ready to leave and stepped from the nook.

 Seth spun with all his strength, sword extended. Steel sparked against stone wall. A dark figure crouched, sparks landing on their hat. Seth had put too much force into the swing, and had trouble pulling back. The figure used that millisecond to run. An arm shot out, shoving him.

“Hey!” Seth yelled, scrambling to his feet. “Intruder!”

Seth ran, eyes darting everywhere, looking for the figure, catching the barest flicker of movement turning corners. He hit the main hallway, and there was nothing. No doors swinging, no locks rattling, no flickers of coat. Seth hurried forward and reached the cell with the barrel, and found the minotaur and the dwarf, braced and ready for action.

“Did you see anyone?” Seth asked as he rushed closer.

They jumped, only spotting him as he spoke.

“Right, new plan,” Seth said, putting a hand on his head, trying to think through this.

He was planning on taking the barrel with him out of Wyrmroost in the late afternoon. It had seemed so much more likely that they were going to attack at night. Now that the spy had been spotted, would their enemies try to move up the plan? What did Seth want the spy to think? If Seth did nothing, the spy would know that something was going to happen.

If Seth saw the intruder, and Tess didn’t, that meant shadow magic. Being unable to see in the dark meant that even if he could see past the shadow magic, he wouldn’t be able to find the intruder easily. That was a dumb trait. There had to be some aspect of being a shadow charmer that let him sense others in the dark.

But it was reality, and it meant that keeping their biggest weakness at the bottom of the dungeon, near the Blackwell, was a mistake.

“Okay, uh, remind me of your names?” Seth asked apologetically.

“Borum,” the dwarf said.

“Romnus,” grunted the minotaur.

“Right, Borum, you’re on guard duty with me. We’re moving the barrel, Romnus is going to carry it. I know this is one of the most protected areas, but we’re dealing with someone even better at shadow stuff than me. This is going too the High Judgement Court,” Seth said.

“Where?” Borum asked.

Seth opened the door to the cell, “Oh, uh, the center thing at the top. It doesn’t have any walls?”

“He means the pavilion,” Romnus said. Seth put his back to the cell door as Romnus explained the situation to Agatha.

“You lead, I’ll bring up the rear,” Seth said. Borum nodded, and they made their way out of the dungeons. Seth’s eyes were starting to hurt from spending so long trying to decipher the darkness, but he didn’t stop looking until they made it all the way to the top.

They attracted a trail of people, running into Tess’s group on the first floor, then Marat and Agad as they made their way to the kitchens.

They all asked Romnus, Agatha, and Borum questions, but they were directed to Seth who shook his head, motioning for everyone to follow quietly.

With everyone gathered at the pavilion, the harsh sunlight let Seth finally lower his sword. He sheathed it and looked in the barrel. The note remained, having shifted only a little bit during the trip.

“Okay,” Seth said, “I found the spy. Didn’t get a good look at them, but they are definitely using concealment shadow magic to hide themselves. Something I can sort of see through anyway. Which means its definitely going to be weaker up here.”

“Until nightfall,” Romnus said. “New moon tonight.”

Seth nodded, “Yes. This will still need to be guarded, but I already feel a lot better with it away from the Blackwell. Any conversations you have from now on, we should probably assume we’re being spied on. With the barrel up here, assuming they still go forward with their plan, the spy will have to wait until nightfall. If their plans involved the Blackwell, they’re going to have a lot farther to go, giving us a chance to stop them.”

“Is there anything else we can do? Tess didn’t find anyone,” Knox said.

“Oi, Tess was looking for people?” Doren said, “I thought we were making a map!”

“I thought the point was to get the spy to follow us,” Newel said.

Doren looked betrayed, “You knew it wasn’t about my map making skills!”

“Guys, it was all those things,” Seth said. He crouched and put a hand on Tess’s shoulder, who looked scared, “Hey, you did great. I never would have found the spy without you.”

He waited until she nodded and gave him a smile.

Seth stood up, “I want your map in the War room, because there’s always the chance that we missed a weakness down there. Agad, I want you to go over it with Marat after lunch, see if everything looks like you remember. I’m pretty sure the spy was following you guys the whole time, which means the rest of our conversations were probably private. Let’s head down to lunch, see if we can think of anything else. I’m starving.”

The Satrys whooped and hurried down, Tess and Knox following after.

“I have been giving some thought to where you need to go,” Agad said. “And I am starting to believe it was a mistake to think you didn’t need to be trained in your Shadow Charmer abilities. A fully trained shadow charmer would have been able to sense the shadow and concealment magic, and would be able to sense it now.”

“I’ve had plenty of people offer,” Seth admitted, “No one I felt like I could trust. Kendra told me that a demon she knew vouched for other demons that hate the dragons a lot more than they hated humans, but I already forgot their names. She didn’t want me learning from demons anyway.”

“But still she told you,” Agad said gently, “She would have let the information die with her memory if she didn’t trust your judgement. Demons are different among the denizens of the magical world, they are not always bound to their word as Fairies and Underbeings are. In order to deal with demons successfully, you must always have your goals aligned. Is there anywhere she would have written it down?”

“The journal of secrets,” Seth admitted, “But she writes that by umite candle and in fairy languages.”

Agad hummed, “There is a surprising store of Umite candles in the stockroom, and I believe that with Tess, fairy languages aren’t the bar Kendra trusted them to be.”

Seth grinned, changing direction at a hallway, “It looks like Tess has some homework. Do you think being a Shadow Charmer would help me rescue Kendra?”

“Having your abilities fully trained would indeed let you walk among the denizens of the Phantom Isle. From what I understand, you could no more walk on the Phantom Isle unseen than you could walk in the Fairy Realm without the Queen’s knowledge.” Agad said, “But if there is a way to take back what belongs in the light, a trained shadow charmer has a much better chance than many others.”

Agad stopped Agatha, who they had caught up to in the halls, and requested a set of Umite candles be brought to the kitchen. She nodded, and went to do it.

“The staff has been put on alert, watch and rotations set, for your information,” Agad said.

“Great,” Seth replied opening the door to his sister’s room. He immediately went to the desk in the corner and looked at the underside. It was much lower to the ground, and the journal wasn’t there. He checked Kendra’s other hiding spots, and in her desk for good measure. Agad watched.

“I have the feeling this isn’t your first time snooping on your sister,” Agad said.

Seth pulled the Journal of Secrets from the inside pocket of her duffle bag, which had been folded to fit inside the bottom of her laundry basket.

“Sisters, you know?” he said, grinning and tucking the book under his arm. “I wonder if Patton finished writing in it before or after the stingbulb was made? The first half is his journal, the rest of it is Kendra’s.”

Patton. The stingbulb had only a day left, how could they make sure Patton was used to the fullest extent?

Seth once again changed course.

“The kitchen is this way,” Agad said, amused, “It seems you really do need a map.”

“We want to go somewhere no has ever been, that constantly moves locations, and survive to tell about it?” Seth asked, smiling again, “Ten bucks says Patton knows where he left the t-shirt.”

 Patton’s eyes lit up, but the rest of his features had only a hint of amusement, “Seth, I hope you aren’t suggesting that you think I rang the Underking’s doorbell for the fun of it? There isn’t a fairy shrine there.”

“Patton,” Seth said, cracking his own smile, “I’m obligated to let you know that if you haven’t ding-dong-ditched the Underking, it’s going to be a crushing letdown for one of your biggest fans.”

Patton laughed, “I had a good reason, I swear. But the particulars of it elude me. Stingbulbs don’t retain a perfect memory, you know. There is a ship, mildly haunted, that a shadow charmer should be able to strong arm into giving a lift.”

“Lady Luck?” Seth asked.

Patton raised his eyebrows, “You’re familiar with it?”

Seth winced, “Yeah, you left some stuff for me with Cormic, and we used her to get to the Shoreless Isle to stop Zzyxx. I think the bell and whistle ended up at Fablehaven, but I left the music box in the Presence’s cabin. I didn’t think I’d survive, much less need it again.”

“You’ll get a lot farther if you assume you will survive,” Patton said, stroking his mustache, “And if you don’t, you leave some nice pieces for the next adventurer to pick up. It is possible the music box remains in the cabin, but if not, a Shadow Charmer can summon the presence of spirits, I hear.”

Something else he’d need to be trained on. He caught Agad’s eye, and nodded. Training him had to be part of their plan before they went to the Phantom Isle.

“Can you think of another way?” Seth asked.

Patton shrugged, “The old stories suggest sailing to the end of the world and falling off it, but that has obvious issues. There are many caves that lead to the Underking’s domain, but those are also constantly shifting and extremely well hidden.

“The Underking has a clever boat he uses to ferry his servants across the water, but I don’t know of any others like it. There are also certain fairies that strive to find their way to the Phantom Isle, they were born with a need to light up the deepest darkness. Called Nova Songs, they are exceptionally rare, but they could lead a normal ship to your destination.”

“Right,” Seth said, “Could you write those down?”

“Of course, my boy,” Patton said, accepting a piece of paper from Tanu. He started writing. “I’m glad I could help this much. I get the sense Patton was hoping I’d be able to be more of an assistance than what I have been. Aside from getting the winged mounts, I fear I haven’t lived up to Patton’s hopes.”

“Those mounts are more important than you think,” Seth said, thinking of their plan for escape. Was there anything Patton could do in the next half a day? Probably not with Kendra, that was clearly going to take longer.

“Actually,” Agad said, “There is something you can do. I refrained from asking about your journey here before, but is it true you hid one of the keys to the vault in the Dragon Temple?”

“I suppose I can’t make myself any less popular with the dragons than I am right now,” Patton said, handing Seth the note detailing his ideas, “I did indeed. I had a couple of important items that let me get past the guardians, a lot of time, and an urgent need.”

“You used the Unicorn horn to get past Stilletta, didn’t you?” Seth said.

Patton arched an eyebrow, “As did you, I assume.”

“We killed her,” Seth replied, “The unicorn horn fed by Kendra’s unending power helped us purify her to a crisp. By the time she figured out to use her claws, she was dead.”

Patton grinned, “Quite clever. Though taking a dragon’s life shouldn’t be done lightly, Stiletta was a piece of work. I procured myself a set of Pegasus boots. Allows for increased speed while hovering three inches above the ground. That, along with a scarf that turned the wearer invisible while moving, allowed me to make it into the Temple and out again.”

“How would you like to revisit it?” Agad asked. “The dragons have declared war, voiding the treaty that gave them the right to certain treasures. We will be needing them back. Any information on the status of the temple guardians would be most welcome.”

“I believe I can do that,” Patton said, “How will I be able to convey the information back to you? I will likely expire before I can make the return trip.”

“I believe I have something that will do the trick,” Agad said, “Follow me to the library. Seth, I believe your stomach is still growling, why don’t you take your sister’s journal to Tess, see if you can scrounge up any secrets that might have been lost with Kendra’s memory.”

“Hey Tanu? When can you be all packed up?” Seth asked.

Tanu nodded, mixing two vials. “Patton’s help was greatly appreciated. I will be ready to go by 4 this afternoon.”

Marat came up to him as he approached the kitchen, but thankfully didn’t try to pull him in a different direction. He really was starving.

“The flying mounts have agreed. The destination?”

“Err, Fablehaven, I guess,” Seth said, looking around. “Think they can go that far?”

“It is approximately 1600 miles,” Marat said, “It would take a dragon three days, two days without rest. I do not know how fast your mounts fly, but I would plan for a week.”

“A week? I don’t have that much time to spend roadtripping,” Seth said, “After we get to human towns, think we could buy plane tickets to Fablehaven? They’re Luvians, they should be able to make it to Fablehaven without riders.”

“I will consult with them, though that plan has merit,” Marat said. They made it into the kitchen and Seth finally got a lunch of barbeque and some kind of mashed potato thing.

Seth dived in.

“When do you intend to implement the second part of your plan?”

“You’ve been up to something else?” Grandpa asked, sitting down with his own plate beside him.

Seth swallowed and grinned, “Always,” he said. To Marat he said, “It’s what, 1 o’clock? Let’s save it for 4:30-ish, have everyone gather at the High Judgement Pavilion. That’s when Tanu will be ready to go.”

“It’s only because I heard about your encounter with our spy that I’m letting you get away with your secrets Seth Sorenson,” Grandpa warned. “We will be discussing this.”

“I appreciate your input as my assistant,” Seth said, nodding.

“Mind your grandfather,” Grandma said.

“Yes Grandma.”

[bluerosewritings]

Tarts and Kisses | Riddle x Fem!Reader

[Originally posted on “The Heart Mirror” on Wattpad]

Riddle stared at his phone, biting his lip. The red head wasn't usually one for late nights - if things were going his way, he would have finished going over his notes half an hour ago and would now be sleeping. Unfortunately, things were not going his way.

Because of rule 373 of the Queen of Hearts - 'if one is unable to be near the person of their affection, they must partake in a form of communication at the 9th hour of the 5th night' - the two of you always called each other at nine o'clock every Friday. The two of you had also decided to alternate who called who each week, this week being your turn to call.

Yet you hadn't called.

At first, Riddle had brushed it off as you being distracted. Sure, he was a little annoyed that you hadn't properly adhered to the rules, but whenever you hadn't in the past you usually had a proper reason.

So when Riddle watched the clock hit ten, he began to worry. Surely you wouldn't have taken this long to call? As menial as the calls were, you'd told him often how you "loved just hearing his voice". Maybe you fell asleep? But wouldn't you have told him how tired you were?

Unable to take it any longer, Riddle left his room. As he passed by the dorm lounge, he caught a glimpse of Trey out the corner of his eye.

"You're back late, Trey," Riddle said, slowing down his pace, "are you finished with the food for tomorrow's Unbirthday Party?"

"Hmm? Oh, Riddle. Thought you'd be asleep by now." Trey replied.

"Unfortunately, no. I'm on my way to check on (y/n)," Riddle frowned, "she missed our Friday call, and I... need to make sure that she has a proper reason."

Trey smiled, knowing how soft Riddle could be when it came to enforcing rules on you. Then realisation dawned on him.

"Ah, Riddle, she won't be in her dorm," Trey explained, "I asked her to help me with the last of the Unbirthday Party food, but we had an accident... nothing major. But it probably distracted her."

"I see... thank you, Trey. Make sure nothing happens while I'm gone."

"W-Wait, Riddle...!"

—

You pushed the tart to the back of the fridge. After closing the door, you looked over at the other treats lined up on the cafeteria kitchen's windowsill. Trey had said that they would be better there instead of the fridge.

Next, you walked over to the oven and peered at the tray of cookies. Rows of hearts, spades, clovers, diamonds and roses were hardening nicely from what you could tell. Since you'd left them until last, Trey had said to just let them cool and he'd ice them in the morning. That just left...

You turned around and grimaced. The giant pile of flour and the wrapping they exploded from taunted you. Where did they keep the broom again...?

Before you could begin your search, a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your body. You turned around to see who it was only to have a pair of lips crash against yours mid-turn.

At first you panicked, then your eyes noticed a familiar heart-shaped cowlick. Relieved, you relax into the kiss, wrapping your own arms around your boyfriend. When you sadly pull apart, Riddle presses a kiss on your cheek. You smile and nuzzle your face into his neck, allowing him to press a third kiss on the top of your head.

"You worried me." Riddle mumbled, stroking the back of your head.

"Worried?" You frowned. "Why?"

Riddle sighed. "(y/n), it's nearly 11."

"Wait, what?" You pulled away from the hug and went over to your bag. Once you fished your phone out, you cringed at the time on the display. "Oh, Riddle, I'm so sorry..."

"As you had a genuine reason, I'll let you off the hook this time," Riddle said kissing your other cheek, "however, next time it'll be off with your head. Understand?"

You giggled. "Yes, my Queen."

Before you could lean in for another, the oven timer went off. Remembering the cookies, you cursed and grabbed the oven mitts.

Riddle watches as you start unloading the cookies onto a cooling tray, his eyes brightening with amusement as you start moving the rose-shaped ones.

"Did you do these one?" He asks.

"That obvious?" You chuckle, feeling your cheeks light up slightly.

Riddle shakes his head, smiling. "We don't usually have rose-shaped cookies for the Unbirthday Party, so I figured you must have thought of it instead of Trey. They're cute."

"T-Thanks." You stammer.

You push the rack backwards towards the rest of the treats. Riddle takes the oven mitts off you and puts them away as you make room for all of them.

"Is everything meant to be on the side?" Riddle asks when he's back by your side.

You nod. "Trey said only the tarts had to go in the fridge. Everything else was better off on the side to cool - I was just making sure the cookies were easy to reach, since they need to be iced in the morning..."

Riddle hums in response. "If you want, I could help you move everything to Heartslabyul. That way-"

"No!" Riddle looks at you, confused. "I-I mean, I don't wanna risk dropping anything! Since, y'know, w-we won't have any time to remake it..."

"Are you sure?"

You nodded quickly.

"Very well..." He said, not full believing you but deciding not to push it. Maybe you were just tired.

You sighed in relief. Riddle already seeing the rose cookies was already a bit of a let down, but as long as he didn't see what was in the fridge, it wasn't all for nothing.

Your eyes caught sight of the flour pile again. "Oh, shoot, I forgot about that... Riddle, do you know where they keep the cleaning broom?"

Riddle followed your line of vision and saw the pile. It was almost up to his ankles, with parts of their bags sticking out. This must of been the accident Trey was talking about - flour bags all exploding on the ground.

He took a look at your face and decided it was best not to ask. Now that he got a good look at you, there were bags under your eyes. You really were tired.

"Allow me." Taking out his magic pen, Riddle chanted a short spell.

The flour and paper bags lifted off the floor. With another flick of his wrist, two of the bins opened and the levitating items sorted themselves into them.

You let out a sigh of relief and kissed your boyfriend's cheek. "Thanks. I really didn't want to deal with that..."

Riddle chuckled, catching your hand in his. "I could tell. Was there anything else? Or can I walk you back to your dorm now?"

"You may." You say with a smile.

You threaded your fingers between his as the two of you set off. While you tried to listen to what you boyfriend was telling you, a mix of tiredness and thoughts of tomorrow were making it near impossible. Even as you kissed Riddle goodnight and waved him off, all you could think about was his future smile at your present.

—

The horns sounded off. "Our great leader! The Crimson Ruler! Announcing Dorm Head Riddle!"

"Dorm Head Riddle! Hip hip hooray!"

He really did look like royalty, you thought, watching Riddle walk down to the head table, crown balanced on his head and cape fluttering behind him. As according to the laws of the Queen of Hearts, Trey as vice dorm leader was to his left and you as his girlfriend were to his right. Not wanting to risk any chance of him seeing your gift, you shifted your legs slightly to block the bag as best as you could, Riddle luckily being too preoccupied with checking the decorations to notice your fidgeting.

"You all have your teacups?" Cater nudged you and you quickly grabbed your teacup's handle. "Today is nobody's birthday, so to this Unbirthday Party! Cheers!"

"Cheers!" Rang out across the field.

You took a sip - earl grey for this month - and looked over at Riddle. His gaze was directed towards the selection of tarts Trey had made; berries and cream, raspberry almond crumb, brown butter apple. You saw the flicker of confusion in his eyes. Figuring now was the perfect time, you placed down your cup.

You pulled the bag onto your lap. "Riddle?"

Riddle turned to you. "Yes?"

Surprise lit up his face when you emptied the bag. Carefully, you held out a strawberry tart towards him. The tart was slightly smaller than the others, with the strawberry slices carefully arranged into the shape of a heart.

"Sorry if I seemed a little off yesterday," you said as he takes the tart off you, "I just didn't want you to find out. You're always so kind to me, helping me out even when we weren't dating... I wanted to do something for you in return."

A soft smile grew on Riddle's face. You swear you could feel your heart jump out of your chest when you two made eye contact, the adoration in his eyes making you melt. The kiss he pressed against your cheek didn't help.

"Thank you." Riddle seemed to whisper in your ear.

Riddle pulled away and placed the tart on a plate. Carefully, he took out a knife and cut out a slice, placing it on his plate.

"Shouldn't Ace do that for you?" You asked, remembering the Queen of Hearts rule 41.

"I'd rather do it myself." Riddle replied, prompting a small blush grew on your cheeks.

While Riddle tried to keep his adult composure, inside he was like a gleeful child. Cutting away part of the tart, Riddle couldn't stop his heart rate growing at the thought of you making this especially for him. It tasted different from Trey's - a little heavier, but somehow sweeter. So sweet. It was addicting.

He glanced over at you. You were watching him nervously, smiling when he caught your eye. Spearing another part of the tart, he brought it to your lips.

"Say 'aah'." Riddle wasn't usually one for public affection, but he felt it was only right to share the tart with you. The red glow on your face was nice too.

The tart hadn't tasted exactly how you thought it would, but watching Riddle immediately return to finish off the slice before cutting off another. As he offered you another taste, you wondered if Trey would let you help with baking again.

[aaronhart93]

incompleted discord thread featuring: Aaron & @river--holloway

When: march 2021

Mentions: @sxojun

Triggers: none

Description: river visits aaron at work and they catch up 

Aaron.BOT — 03/28/2021

Aaron was hunched over his large desk at Club Delilah, trying to focus on this paperwork that was long overdue. Ever since getting back from Milan, he couldn’t seem to get on top of all of his paperwork. He’d been pulled later nights just get things for the day done. He knew he needed to delegate more, but his father always told him that if he wanted something done right, then Aaron had to do it himself. Even to this day, Aaron couldn’t get his dad’s voice out of his head in everything he did - the way he parented, how he worked, his dad seemed to be whispering to him about his relationship too. He knew he was disapprove, but Aaron was successful. He knew that’s what his father would care about the most. Aaron’s thoughts were interrupted when he heard a knock at the door. “There’s someone here to see you.” His assistant told him. @Nix | Dorian & River & Amani

RiverBOT — 03/28/2021

River hadn’t seen or spoken to Aaron in quite some time and, truth be told, the professor missed his friend. Did their history make things somewhat complicated? Admittedly, yes. But, at the core of it all, the two were friends. And River preferred to keep it that way. He didn’t have many people that he considered his friends, after all. Arriving at Club Delilah and asking for Aaron, he waited to be allowed entrance into his office. When access had been granted, he stepped into the office and smiled politely at the younger male. Immediately, though, he could sense a disturbance within his friend that caused the corners of his mouth to droop slightly into a frown. “Hello, Aaron. Are you alright? I hope I didn’t come at a bad time.” @em || 𝐀𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 & 𝐒𝐤𝐲 & 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬

Aaron.BOT — 03/28/2021

It had been a minute since he’d seen River. In fact, if Aaron recalled correctly, the last time he actually say River was when they were fucking. He’d actually spoken with Seojun about his relationship with his former professor. Aaron was cool with it, of course. He’d had a relationship that was more than a friendship with both of them in the past, but Aaron was happy in his relationship right now. Besides, both River and Seojun were great guys. He was happy they’d found each other. “River…no.” He set his pen off to the side to give the older male his full attention. “How are you? Thanks for stopping by.” He smiled. @Nix | Dorian & River & Amani

RiverBOT — 03/28/2021

It was true that the last time that he and Aaron had seen each other, it had been in a much different context. With that in mind, the professor could admit that there was some slight awkwardness. But, overall, he was glad to see Aaron. The older male cared a lot about the businessman and considered him a good friend, despite the fact that their relationship had been more than platonic for quite some time. Not to mention they were both in relationships now, River’s in particular being one that he knew Seojun had recently made Aaron aware of. “I’m well, thank you. How are you?” River asked, taking a seat across from the other male. @em || 𝐀𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 & 𝐒𝐤𝐲 & 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬

Aaron.BOT — 03/28/2021

The small talk felt a little strange. Even though he genuinely cared about how River was doing, he could feel the elephant in the room. Aaron had a relationship with both Seojun and River that he wouldn’t exactly called platonic or casual. He had been friends with Jun for quite some time and there was always something…else there that Aaron couldn’t quite explain. And River was one of the most exciting flings he’d ever had in his life. Thinking about it made him excited even now. “I’m well. Des is in the talent show at school so she’s getting ready for that. How’s your kid? And, erhm….how are you and Seojun? I’ll admit I was a little surprised when I heard the news.” He confessed to the other male, a small smile on his face. @Nix | Dorian & River & Amani

RiverBOT — 03/28/2021

The interaction did feel strange. It was so much different than all the other times they’d interacted. He nodded his head, smiling as Aaron informed him of his daughter’s upcoming talent show. Sometimes, he forgot that Aaron was also a father because it wasn’t something they talked about often. He loved that they were both girl dads, though. “Oh, how lovely. What’s her talent? I’m sure she’s going to do a wonderful job at whatever it is,” He told him. “Haven is well. She’s coming home for Easter break on the 29th and then her sixteenth birthday is on April 2nd. I’m planning a nice sweet sixteen birthday party for her.” At the mention of Seojun, River chuckled a bit nervously. He supposed he should’ve figured that he would come up somehow. “We’re great. Were you? I didn’t know that you two were friends until he told me.” @em || 𝐀𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 & 𝐒𝐤𝐲 & 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬March 29, 2021

Aaron.BOT — 03/29/2021

"She's a woman of many talents." He joked, chuckling to himself softly. "She's singing and dancing. I think that's where she's meant to be actually. Got her talents from her mom that's for sure." He smiled because there was never a time that thinking about his daughter's relationship with her mother didn't want him smiling. He missed her, he really did. "I don't even want to think about Des turning 16. Damn, that's something I just don't ever want to have to do. Be a dad to a teenage girl. You're going to have to give me some pointers." He gave the older male a tiny smirk. It was a bit flirtatious, but he was also being genuine. Haven was a great kid, so River must have been doing something right there. "I was." Aaron nodded, pressing his lips together. "We go way back. You guys seem happy though. So I'm happy for you." He told his former lover. @Nix | Dorian & River & Amani

RiverBOT — 03/29/2021

The professor listened fondly as Aaron gushed about his daughter. He could relate. His own daughter was undoubtedly his favorite person on Earth and he could go on and on about her for days on end if given the opportunity. “That’s fantastic. I’m sure she did inherit those gifts from her mother. And did she inherit your intelligence and wit as well?” He chuckled as Aaron talked about fearing the day that Des turned sixteen. “I can hardly believe that I’m going to have a sixteen year old myself. I’m blessed though, Haven is an angel. She’s never given me the typical teenage rebellion. We’ve always had very open dialogue, so she has no trouble expressing her feelings to me in a healthy manner. I do have to worry about boys though, on occasion. I mean, naturally. She’s a beautiful young lady.” He smirked back at the businessman, not missing the slight flirtatiousness of Aaron’s comment. “You’ve got a ways to go before then, but I’ll give you pointers when the time comes.” River nodded as Aaron gave a brief explanation of his and Seojun’s history. “I see. He did mention that you’re his best friend. Well, thank you. We are happy.” @em || 𝐀𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 & 𝐒𝐤𝐲 & 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬March 30, 2021

Aaron.BOT — 03/30/2021

Aaron smirked over at the professor because of course Des had inherited Aaron's intelligence and wit. The kid was one of the wittiest and sassiest people he knew...including the adults. Of course she got it all from him. And now that she was living with Roman and Quentin too - she was even picking up some of their isms as well. Aaron was luck that his kid wasn't super weird considering all of the different adults she had in her life. "She got that all from me. Her good looks too." His smirk grew, then he started listening to River. "You know...Lan and I have always told each other that we were going to make sure Elle and Des got married. Like parent trapping them...but like...with our kids." He joked, knowing that idea was really twisted and wrong. But he and Landon still hoped for it anyway. It wasn't like he was going to force his kid to be with Elle or anything, and of course he wanted Des to do whatever made her happy, but the thought was still nice. "You know...I thought I had a long time until Des turned 6, and now here i am. I swear I'm going to blink and she'll be 16." He ran his hand through his hair because the idea of his kid getting old almost stressed him out. "Has Haven met Jun yet?" he asked, curiously. @Nix | Dorian & River & AmaniApril 4, 2021

RiverBOT — 04/04/2021

River laughed softly, shaking his head playfully. Something the professor had always admired about Aaron was his confidence. Sure, he’d been set up for success due to the family he’d been born in; but, without that charisma of his, he wouldn’t have that same flair and his businesses probably wouldn’t be quite as successful. He grinned as Aaron confessed to him and Landon fantasizing about their daughters ending up together. When Haven was born, he didn’t have any other friends with kids; and, now that he’s older, the other parents he knows still have much younger children than his. Sometimes, he can’t help but wish that he had more people in his life that he could closely relate with. That didn’t change the fact that he was very grateful for the friends like Aaron and Quentin that he does have. “I wish I could comfort you and say that’s not how it is, but that’s exactly how it goes. Children grow up so quickly. That’s why it’s so important to cherish every singular moment you have with them.” He shook his head at Aaron’s question. “Not yet. But she’ll meet him when she comes home Monday. They’ve spoken over the phone though.” @em || 𝐀𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 & 𝐒𝐤𝐲 & 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬April 6, 2021

Aaron.BOT — 04/06/2021

No matter how old he got, he still valued that knowledge that River gave him. Even though this wasn't in a classroom setting, Aaron always found River so sexy because of how intelligent he was. He loved just looking at the man when he was delivering any type of information. Even if it was about how fast his daughter was going to grow up and leave him - at least the person who was delivering this terrible news was some excellent eye and ear candy. "C'mon, man. Don't get me all emotional in the middle of the day like that. I have a meeting later." He laughed, but he almost did feel himself getting a little upset at the thought of Des getting older. "Oh..well...I'm sure she won't like him as much as she liked me." He joked and even added a small cackle, though he wasn't sure if that was exactly a funny joke. @Nix | Dorian & River & Amani

[sailingintothenight]

“HAPPY.” T.H. Imagine.

Tom meets a little angel and you, her mom.

A/N: This is the second part of this imagine. Thank yooooou so much for the love you all gave to the first part. It means the world to me. Thank u♥ Hope you like this one as well. Feedback is always welcome!!!

Sitting on the cold floor of the elevator, the pain finds a way to sneak through the cracks in his heart.

Let's talk about love.

Some say it's best to keep our emotions on the sidelines, to draw a line and never cross it, never fall in love, because losing a loved one can drive you crazy, and the line between sanity and madness is as thin as a thread. Explaining a love like the one you had was like explaining the origin of the universe, too deep as the sadness of losing him, forever. In Tom's case, loving and not being loved is bad, but loving and not being able to be loved by your lover is even worse, because you know that no matter how much you cry or ask heaven why it took him away from you, there will be no answer from the other side, only the infinite emptiness within a cold and lifeless body. But it makes you feel, oh, yes, it burns you skin until you can no longer breath, like being on the edge of the abyss and falling, again and again and again.

That's how Tom feels right now.

"So... have you always lived in London?" His brown eyes hide the tears at the edge of his gaze, and at that moment, you wish you had not heard the anxiety in his voice, or been able to recognize it in his eyes, because life gave you the experience of recognizing the pain in the heart of others. 

Because that pain came after losing someone, like you when you lost the great love of your life, with whom you were inseparable, becoming stronger regardless of the season. But the frozen blizzard of bad times had passed, melting into nothing more than lessons learned and old stories. Some say that you cannot run away from your past, only learn from it, so you did that, you took the lessons of the most painful moments and turned them into null feelings that you kept in a corner of your heart, managing to get out alive from that blizzard and get the prize as a winner. Although from time to time it is good to take a look at the past, open a door that you kept closed and search for those moments that you kept warm within yourself, remembering them with affection, and after that, put them back in the place where they belong.

"If I'm honest with you... I came to London to escape."

His curiosity awakens in his innocent gaze: Tom doesn't consider himself very smart, sadly, but the pieces of his mental puzzle fit together perfectly, creating a one single thought.

"From Marley's father?"

"What a subtle way to wonder if I'm taken." You say, and you chuckle, because his gaze is tender like that of a small child, like Marley's eyes when the world presents her with a new adventure, but then Tom's lips part as the coherent words have vanished from his mind. "Just relax. I'm kidding."

Tom laughs, relieved.

"Sorry, that was very personal."

"It's okay." You shrug and expertly, keep your emotions behind the line. "Marley's father was the best thing that ever happened to me, we had a story like those old love movies, but he left this world too soon."

Tom's heart is on fire, cutting his breath and closing his throat as a terrible fear trickles through his body.

“I think you are very brave, really. I don't… I don't think I can handle something like that.”

But you smiled sweetly, like the person who keeps a big secret.

"I can tell you that I had to be strong, and then I understood that I was." You tilt your head forward, and your cheek touches Marley's hair, which smells like chamomile. Tom can smell it on you and Marley, too: you both smelled like a childhood memory of his, somehow innocent, very different from what he felt being with Hanna. "I feel like you're the type of man who believes that all people act with good will, Tom, and although I'm sorry to tell you that not everyone acts like that, there are people who do: what I mean is that you shouldn't lose faith, because there will always be someone who deserves your love."

His name spills from your lips naturally, as simple as if you knew him, as if you had been good friends in another life. Tom knows, and feels it in his heart, that because of the confidence in your words and the way your gaze deepened when you look at Marley, you had survived because you had found someone to love without fear of being hurt. And if loving was like jumping off a cliff without knowing if we can fly, you had discovered that you had wings, because she had given them to you, because that is how we should feel a real love. But Tom bites his lips, pushing them into his mouth, and frowns with the weight of the pain he feels, because suddenly the memories of his life pass before his eyes like the saddest movie he has ever been a part of.

"And what if you're wrong? What if the person you thought was the right one turns out to be a bad person?"

Your lips part to speak, but the sound of the elevator coming back to life snatches the words from your mind, and the relief, returns to your soul and the body.

"Do you know what is the bad thing with not having Marley's father here?" You joke, but Tom is still waiting for an answer that gives him instructions on how to survive a deadly love. “That I don't have someone to hold Marley so I can stand up. And the truth is that my legs are numb.”

And then Tom does the weirdest thing, he smiles, he smiles and chuckles at a bad joke that should have made him even sadder but instead, makes him forget his sad thoughts.

"I can do it for you."

Tom places a knee on the ground and wraps his hands around Marley's body, taking her in his arms to place her against his chest, expertly, as if he had done it many times already. In dreams, and perhaps dreaming of a father she never knew, Marley recognizes the warmth of his body and clings to him, wrapping her little arms around his neck, hiding her face in the hollow of his neck. The image is like an example of what Noah would have been like with Marley, a painful thought that trickles down your memories as Tom reaches out his hand and helps you to your feet, so that finally the 3 of you can get out of the elevator to the parking lot in the basement.

"You know, Tom..." You say, breathing the cold air from a wide place, and empty at that time of night. "If you chose to love someone and you lost, it's sad, but you can't blame yourself for that because you didn't do anything wrong. Happiness is a choice, and I think happiness after sadness is a choice too."

For a moment, Tom feels his common sense slipping from his grasp, and it's almost impossible to control his emotions that overflow the edge of his wounded heart as it free-falls into sadness, hatred, and rancor, but at this very moment, he feels that it is as light as the breath he can take.

"Thank you." He says, and that word comes from the bottom of his heart.

"You're welcome." You respond shyly, because talking about feelings has always been your weak point. "Well... uh, I can take you home if you want."

Tom smiles, and again, his smile resembles that of a child who has no scars on his heart.

"That would be great. Thank you."

You nod once before leading the way to your black car not far from you, a gift from your older brother for your brave decision to move with him to a quiet London neighborhood. The key in your hand turns off the alarm and you open the back door for him, so Tom can leave Marley in the seat, so she can keep dreaming all the way back home.

"Would you mind if I sit with her behind?" Tom looks at you with his brown eyes, eyes like the color of autumn, innocent and sweet on a well-defined face and a well-worked body, a lethal combination. "I think Marley is too comfortable to let me go."

And she is, Marley sleeps peacefully against his chest, and that image is like a memory of something that never happened between her and her father. You mumble an okay, managing to make him smile before getting into the car with your daughter still in his arms. With the door closed, you walk around the car and enter the driver's seat, turnkey to turn it on and drive out of the hospital and into your new home. The weather is cold at that time of the year, but the heat of the car wraps you all in a warm hug as the London rain hits the window. Through the rearview mirror, you steal glances from Tom, who has his eyes on the landscape, with his hands around Marley's body, her big eyes are closed and hidden behind her long eyelashes, cheeks pink from the heat, her little body warm by Tom's jacket around her.

"So... do you live around?" His gaze returns to the front and makes you look away, back to the empty street.

"Uh, kind of... across the bridge, near Kensington Gardens."

"Great, me too." Tom smiles, and the feeling of living close to both of you squeezes his heart with happiness.

15 minutes later, you enter a quiet neighborhood with beautiful front gardens and lamp posts that shine above them in the solitude of a sleeping place.

"What other secret are you hiding from me?" He asks when you park the car in the third house, 4 houses away from his.

You laugh.

"I'll let you find out for yourself." Your gazes meet in the mirror, and your eyes smile before looking away, missing the moment when his eyes smiled back at you. You get out of the car to open the door for him, so Tom can leave Marley back in your arms and go home, but on your way to his side of the car, Tom is already outside, holding her back against his chest, his muscular arm at the height of her thighs to carry her as if she were his daughter. "I can carry her inside, Tom."

"Let me, I think even asleep, she doesn't want to let me go." Tom chuckles, and closes the door quietly so as not to interrupt her sweet dreams.

Confused, you follow him down the wooden path into the middle of a beautiful garden that your brother took over, to the wooden door that you open before you step aside and let him walk in. The lights come on and Tom blinks in the amber light, admiring the warmth of the place thanks to the hardwood floor and salmon-colored walls.

"Her room is upstairs." You say, and you close the door behind him so you two can go up the wooden stairs.

Austin's study had become Marley's new room: the desk and shelves full of books were off to the side, children's books added to them, a bed in the center, and a corner full of animals plush of all sizes. Tom walks in first, feeling the warmth of a girl's room and pulling himself away from her as he lays her down on the bed under the blanket, listening to her soft breathing that fills the silence of the place as he watches her sleep, his eyes full of peace, just like you when you saw Marley sleep when she was only one day old.

"Good night, angel." Tom whispers before walking away, giving you a peaceful look on his way to the door.

The room sinks into a slight darkness and you both walk down the second-floor hallway toward the staircase.

"You are very good with children, Tom." You smile. "You will be a good father someday."

"Thank you." Tom lets out a small laugh, shy but eagerly awaiting the day when he can call himself a father. "I hope I have a daughter as beautiful as Marley."

A crimson blush stains your cheeks when you arrive to the first floor.

"The future Mrs. Holland will be a lucky woman." You say honestly as you open the door for him, because from the bottom of your heart, you want a noble soul like him to get nothing but happiness, and never, never, have to cry for a love that would never return. "Thanks for being so sweet with Marley."

"I should thank her." Tom mutters, and his gaze travels behind you, towards the place where the little angel sleeps and finally, towards your eyes, the guardian of her dreams. "Thank you."

His gaze is deep, and he makes you tilt your head in confusion.

"For what?"

"For..." As easy as it is to think of the words Tom wants to say, saying them is difficult because of the lump in his throat. He wants to thank you for being the person you are, for being so kind to him, for being as bright as a star and for saving a part of his soul that night with the arms of the angel you created of the love you once felt for your lover. "Just... thanks for showing up in my life tonight, darling."

You smile, because the name he calls you by is loving, and because you know that Marley had somehow helped him heal his wounded heart.

"Good night, Tom."

"Good night, (y/n)."

------

@seapandora @hollandsdream @littlekidsteve @lyzalovealk @blueevelvt @the-endoftime​

I tagged the people who commented on the first story, sorry if you didn't want to!

[wujificrec]

Genre Highlight: LWJ’s POV

Cursed by Feynite

PG |  Lan Zhan/Wei Ying | One-shot: 2.8k | Notes: angst, family, grief/mourning, Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi, fluff

Summary:

The Lan Clan is cursed with Love at First Sight.

Ashes of Winter by joannjoann

PG |  Lan Zhan/Wei Ying | One-shot: 1.6k | Notes: Love at first sight, pining Wangji, angst, cursed, 13 years

Summary:

Usually, the calmest and most silent ones keep the strongest feelings. Lan WangJi in particular, feels more strongly than anyone could ever compare.

A glance into what Lan WangJi's went through shortly after Wei WuXian's death. He lost one life but found another.

you are the you who has dyed my lifetime red by Quixiote

PG |  Lan Zhan/Wei Ying | One-shot: 4.7k | Notes:flower symbolism, pining, angst, fluff, love confession, 13 years

Summary: Lan Wangji was born with a gift.

Red Thread by Aki_no_hikari

PG |  Lan Zhan/Wei Ying | One-shot: 1.7k | Notes: Soulmates AU, different first meeting, red string of fate, fluff, pre-canon

Summary: There were many reasons why a cultivator might never join their fated person, although that did not stop many from embarking in years-long searches for the person that was their other half, the one that would understand them and accept them, flaws and all. Others stumbled upon their fated person… sometimes quite literally. Lan Wangji happened to be one of the later.

The Adventures of Lan WangJi - Erotic Art by kitkat2010

NC-17 |  Lan Zhan/Wei Ying | One-shot: 2k | Notes: 13 years, Lan Zhan masturbating

Summary: A few years after Wei Wuxian's death, Lan WangJi goes to buy Emperor's Smile and erotic art books.

Return to Gusu with Me by EstelweNadia

G |  Lan Zhan/Wei Ying | Multi-Chapter: 5.5k | Notes: Fix-it (kinda), angst, friendship, friends to lovers, slow burn, what-if, canon-divergent 

Summary:

MDZS from Lan Wangji's POV. (ep 15 and ch 69 onwards) He would do whatever it takes, even if it meant laying his soul bare, for Wei Ying to come back with him. Chapter 1: Episode 15 - Beautiful Tranquillity Chapter 2: Episode 15 part 2- Honest Confession Chapter 3: Chapter 69 - Departure Part 1

just one minute more by dandelion_san

G |  Lan Zhan/Wei Ying | One-shot: 1k | Notes: Post-canon, fluff, sappy, cuddling & snuggling

Summary: In the hours while Wei Wuxian is still asleep, Lan Wangji struggles to get out of bed.

Sometimes when it's cold by taotrooper

PG |  Lan Zhan/Wei Ying | One-shot: 1.1k | Notes: 13 years, post-WWX death, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, cuddling & snuggling, scars

Summary: The scars on Lan Wangji's back still hurt during the winter.

growing pains by luchiden

G |  Lan Zhan/Wei Ying | One-shot: 3k | Notes: Kid fic, 13 years, Lan Sizhui, post-WWZ death, angst, mourning/grief

Summary: For Lan Wangji the world begins and ends with Wei Wuxian.

i went looking for love (and found you, you, you) by GeneralPo

NC-17 |  Lan Zhan/Wei Ying | One-shot: 6.5k | Notes: Alternating POV, non-linear narrative, post-canon, smut, angst

Summary: 

In defiance of every celebrated scripture of common sense upheld since the establishment of the orthodox sects, Wei Wuxian returns to the world of the living, thirteen years gone and somehow no less brilliant than before. ------- Before they are truly beautiful, they break; together, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian pick up the pieces of a conversation left behind thirteen years ago, reconnecting them to the feelings they share today.

等一不归人 by FateTrash

G |  Lan Zhan/Wei Ying | One-shot: 722 words | Notes: pining, character study, 13 years, post-WWX death

Summary: Thirteen years. He's been a fool for thirteen years.

a bout of teenage rebellion a few years behind schedule by bosbie

G |  Lan Zhan/Wei Ying | One-shot: 1.9k | Notes: pining, fluff, introspection on LWJ’s part

Summary: 

Lan WangJi sneaks away from a night-hunt (and his brother) and arrives at YiLing to finally make peace with this ill-fated love. That does not happen. Wei WuXian shines too brightly for him to let go.

won't by then_came_thee

G |  Lan Zhan/Wei Ying | One-shot: 921 words | Notes: Wangji introspection, 13 years, post-WWX death, mourning/grief, pining

Summary:

Lan WangJi sneaks away from a night-hunt (and his brother) and arrives at YiLing to finally make peace with this ill-fated love. That does not happen. Wei WuXian shines too brightly for him to let go.

yearning by wolframvonbielefeld (maknaeline)

PG |  Lan Zhan/Wei Ying | One-shot: 7.5k | Notes: Wangji character study, 13 years, post-WWX death, Lan Sizhui, angst, hurt/comfort, suicidal thoughts, depression, happy ending

Summary:

Thirteen years I have spent without you, Wei Ying, but my yearning has been fruitful.

Your - our son has grown up well.

Family by Quiet_crash

G |  Lan Zhan/Wei Ying | Multi-chapter: 47.1k | Notes: (unfinished), time travel, fix-it fic, 

Summary:

The truth of the matter was that when it came to taking care of people and their problems, both he and Wei Ying were of one mind. However, whereas Lan Wangji was taught to care for himself as much as other people, Wei Ying, from early age, was taught that him having needs was burdensome. He disregarded his own pain with frightening ease and offered up evey part of himself for others to use with no reservation.

Thus, Lan Wangji made sure that his husband's needs were never overlooked, his hurts never unadressed.

So it was that when they purified an ancient temple and its goddess benevolently offered them each a wish in return, Wei Ying asked for his family: for Jiang Cheng to never have lost his parents and his core, for Jiang Yanli to never have lost her husband and her own life because of him; Lan Zhan asked for Wei Ying.

The Price of Old Wishes by SoManyJacks

NC-17 |  Lan Zhan/Wei Ying | Multi-Chapter: 67.8k | Notes: Canon-divergent, LWJ POV, angst, depression, hurt/comfort, slow burn, happy ending, smut, sharing a bed

Summary:

With Lan SiZhui almost grown, Lan WangJi began to question if there was much else to live for. Then an old wish came true, but at what cost? Or, a retelling of the events of the novel from the perspective of Lan WangJi.

I Dreamed Of You At Nighttime. by cherryburlesque

M |  Lan Zhan/Wei Ying | One-Shot: 7.3k | Notes: Canon-divergent, Yiling Patriach, Sunshot campaign, angst, happy ending, character study, getting together

Summary:

A confrontation after a tense war meeting, and kisses stolen on a bridge in the dark.

Lan Wangji had long since accepted the fact that he had no sense when it came to Wei Wuxian. His vision always narrowed down to one singular point, and everything else was secondary, including the rules of his own clan.

He’d come to terms with that knowledge months ago, when he broke the rules Lan by being outside the Cloud Recesses at night, playing Inquiry for the upteenth time in the hope of an answer.

The long road home by dea_liberty

M |  Lan Zhan/Wei Ying | One-Shot: 9.1k | Notes: Post-canon, family, happy ending, feelings, marriage, angst, 13 years

Summary:

Lan Wangji doesn’t watch as Wei Ying walks away with half his soul, while Lan Wangji walks away with a paper man, infused with a little bit of Wei Ying’s spiritual energy, tucked in flat against his chest like it can replace half of his heart.

In the aftermath of everything, they weave their way through the past and the present, and towards the future they'll make together.

Finally, Lan Wangji finds his way home.

breathing gym by victortor

G |  Lan Zhan/Wei Ying | One-Shot: 2.9k | Notes: Canon-compliant, LWJ POV, panic-attacks

Summary:

Lan Wangji, in a pause.

Or,

At the rendezvous point, after capturing the perpetrator responsible for the rumors of Xinglu Ridge, Lan Wangji waits for Wei Wuxian to return.

After the Drought by Aki_no_hikari

G |  Lan Zhan/Wei Ying | One-Shot: 4.1k | Notes: Canon-divergent, Yiling Wei Sect, family, fluff, angst, happy ending, LWJ POV

Summary:

Point of divergence: chapter75, lwj stays to eat that night… and seeing that they need him, he stays the next day and the next...

Driven by feelings and morals, Lan Wangji leaves the Cloud Recesses and his family behind. Fourteen years of hardship later, he comes back as a father and leader.

asymptotic by chinxe

PG |  Lan Zhan/Wei Ying | Multi-Chapter: 26.7k | Notes: Canon-divergent, angst, happy ending, slow burn, misunderstandings, pining, LWJ POV

Summary:

The members of the Lan Clan have never been particularly well-known for their good judgement when it comes to matters of the heart.

Which is why it should come as a surprise to no one when Lan Wangji falls in love with an actual ghost.

Looking at You Always, All Ways by Keysmashed

PG |  Lan Zhan/Wei Ying | Multi-Chapter: 29.1k | Notes: Canon-divergent, time travel, fix-it fic, fluff, angst, happy ending, LWJ POV

Summary:

Lan Wangji thought it was just a dream but the pain of being pierced in the chest by his own sword, by his own self whose appearance was taller and older was too real. The ground under his feet disappeared and he fell, and fell, and continued falling until a voice he thought he would never hear again broke his fall and suddenly, he was no longer falling. It was the voice he had so dearly missed.

Wei Ying's voice.

----A Time Travel Fix-It where Lan Wangji goes back in time to his first fateful encounter with Wei Wuxian for a chance to rewrite history.

Why Didn't You Say? by preciousbunnynoiz

PG |  Lan Zhan/Wei Ying | One-Shot: 2.5k | Notes: Canon-divergent, fluff, angst, happy ending, love confessions, inquiry, 13 years, Lan Sizhui

Summary:

“Father? One of the other boys said that using the guqin you could...speak to the dead.”

Ah.

Lan WangJi had wondered when this would happen.

A-Yuan asks Lan WangJi to help him speak to someone who he barely remembers and that triggers a reunion and also confessions and confusions.

[blushing-starker]

For my Gracie dear. What would I do without you in my life? Merry Christmas darling. @vaguekiwi

"Well, you wouldn't really be in this position if you had accepted my proposal, baby cheeks. In fact, I'm practically drooling over the thought of you saying fuck it and coming to visit with a few surprises beneath that second skin you're rocking." Two sentences, two very different tones of voice, both trying to coax him in. Reprimand and flirt, the only possible courses of action for Wade when it came to them.

"So I guess it's true what they say; chivalry died when you were born, Wade. Every single conversation between us is proof and the world knows it." He grinned as soon as he heard the exaggerated gasps over the landline, always loved these tennis matches with his partner in crime.

Sure, the 'red devil' of Cliffwood often threaded barely subtle, often outlandish innuendos into their interactions and never denied the neighborhood a chance of seeing him draped over Peter, but it was, God forgive him, fun. Exciting and a little thrilling.

And also past their bedtime. So to speak. "I gotta go and I know Wanda likes to cook late. Go help her in the kitchen, Mr Gifted Hands. Vision might give me an A in the next exam if I told him I encouraged you to make his favorite lasagna." It won't happen, obviously. The Maximoffs, because Vision had adopted the name on his second date with Wanda long before their wedding, were usually chaotic neutrals that tried sticking to the right side of the law. Hopefully, Mr Maximoffs' morality would at least allow the man to add a five point bonus on Peter's next physics test.

"Oh, you finally admit my hands are gifted, Mr Parker? How forward of you." If there was one thing that he loved about being friends with the incorrigible Wade Wilson, it was how the man oozed sex like it was nothing. His surety in it, in flirting, in courting and joking made Peter feel at ease. Most people, even those like Mr Rogers with his slightly conservative views, enjoyed Wade's antics because they were harmless.

Most of the time. The guy had slept with two thirds of the town, after all.

"I'm not sleeping with you, Wade. What would Vanessa say of-"

"Please, the woman basically throws me at people in the hopes of watching me sleep with them."

"you being with me before her?"

"..."

Peter squinted at a shiny red nail, worried he'd somehow messed up Morgan's job of decorating him in the Christmas spirit. The lamp next to the couch is a tad dimmer than usual, right, he has to swap the bulbs. He'd completely forgotten in the midst of playing with Morgan and Rocky, baking them brownies, battling the upstairs shower mold, decluttering the toy boxes and throwing something semi appealing for dinner. There was a spare light in the, was it the garage? No, his memory had been reduced to physics laws and the kids' allergies, but Peter's sure he would have noticed. Maybe Morgan had hidden them in the office, Rocky liked chewing on light bulbs so it's not too unlikely

"Shit, Parker, now I'm thinking about that, Jesus. Christ on a bicycle! Hmm? It's nothing, Wanda, just Peter being a brat and a tease."

"Hey, I'm not a brat!"

"Says you. I bet a certain member of the awesome facial hair club could evidence the opposite. Actually, I'll go right over and ask, hey!" The sound of Wade distinctly face planting onto the Maximoffs couch sent Peter into enough hysterics he could barely make out what Wanda was saying.

"I sincerely apologize for the little devil-"

"I'm almost two heads taller than you!"

"that can't seem to mind his manners no matter how many times we try to teach him how to be human."

"It's," God, he's wheezing like a freshman first day of gym with Coulson, "perfectly alright, Miss. I'm the one that should say sorry for keeping him up so late, I know he has chores to do around the house. Lovely Christmas lights, by the way. I think you guys might win the competition again this year."

There's a tiny worm of guilt crawling up his throat; how could he distract Wade when Wanda had her hands full with an energetic baby ready to sprint out of the house at any moment?

"Oh sweet Peter," she drawls out the vowels, like they're honey and she's trying her best to stretch them out, savour them, "you really think so? I thought the yard looked perfect, but Vision insisted on decorating the roof to 'ensure our win against my dear brother in law'. And please, a happy Wade that's finished his teasing for the day is wonderful for us. He cleans faster and doesn't kiss my cheeks as much."

"Wait, you did the roof?" He knew the Maximoff siblings were intense, had witnessed Pietro stabbing flamingos into Clint's lawn just to add some color to his already bright remodeling a weeks ago.

"You haven't seen it? Tell Morguna's father to take you outside to see it while the kids are watching television. That way you can go back with an excuse if you get too nervous with him."

Peter spluttered, ignored the fact his cheeks were flaming, pretended he couldn't hear Wade's howling through the phone. "I don't, I wouldn't, it's not like, I mean. The, the kids will probably sleep early tonight."

"Perfect, you won't have an excuse and he'll finally kiss you. Oh, Vision. Hello, dear, I'm saying goodbye to Peter. That idiot might kiss him tonight."

"Hello? Hello, Peter. I'm very happy for you both; but may I request you kiss after midnight? I'm afraid I made a substantial bet regarding that kiss and was hoping to get Clint back over Banner and Natasha."

Great, he'd died and entered a hell where the only thing he could do was stutter and flush crimson. Typical Parker luck, really.

"SurebyeMrandMrsMaximofflaterWade."

He slammed the phone back on its pedestal, dove into the leather couch and screamed until his throat ached.

--------

"Daddy? Peter, daddy's here! Don't let him go to our room until we're done with the Christmas card, please!" He yanked his head from under the cushions, scrambled to the door, tripped over Morgan's race car, narrowly avoided the destruction of Rocky's Lego chop shop, hastily stashed a pink apron in the drawers by the door, failed to straighten his sweater (a gift from the kids' grandmother) and took all of ten seconds to fix his hair before opening the door. In the exact moment the owner of the house leaned against it to enter.

There's a second where realization kicked in, worry is splashed over both their faces, he darted forward to help so the man's heart didn't shut down on them right then, said man wanted to preserve such a young, healthy body; they tried to control the damage.

They failed. Spectacularly. Crashed into each other, somehow elbows and knees sunk into bad spots, bone snapped, ligaments wept in pain, a chest became winded, one of them got a black eye and the other a constricted throat. This was, of course, before it started raining and two idiots got drenched while piled up on the front door.

Peter gasped, wasn't sure whether it was better to lie under his dream, his wet fantasy, his goal in life or allow his brain some oxygen.

To be fair, this would only happen the once. He could breathe for the rest of his lonely life.

"Uh, welcome home, Mr Stark. How was work to, today, sir, that's not my thigh." Wade would know. Jesus, Wade would find out Mr Stark touched his dick for the first time and it wasn't even on purpose.

"Kid, I'm so sorry. Here I was wondering if I could give you your Christmas gift without ruining the box and now look at me. Peter, you don't have to come back to work if you don't want to-"

"Wait, you got me a gift, Mr Stark?"

"I will pay you for this whole month, obviously." The man shuffled back, attempted to shakily stand up like a foal and immediately slid down onto the sleek young man.

"Not come back to? Mr, ow, Tony, I'm not going anywhere. Not on Christmas, not ever. Look at me." Don't look at what's between my legs, Peter prayed, don't look at how you are between my legs, don't look.

Tony Stark glanced down, inhaled sharply and snapped his gaze to the au pair's. He may have leaned against what he hoped was his Christmas gift. Maybe.

"I'm not leaving, Mr Stark." The rain kept drizzling into the house, his throat continued to ache, the distance between their two bodies remained the same. But there was something in Mr Stark's eyes now, yes indeed, something Peter had resolutely ignored for the past six months while working with the sweetest family he'd ever known. It was the same something Wade yelled about when talking about his best friend's employer's face as it regarded the au pair.

"I think Wade might kill me if -"

"Rhode's is gonna choke me out if-"

"Are you two gonna kiss or not?"

They risked whiplash to peer right at, or, in Peter's position, upside down at Morgan and Rocky who unflinchingly stared at the ridiculous site their fathers made. Rocky even shook his head the way Tony did when he was disappointed. Little Morgan criss crossed her arms and Peter thought he'd sob because that's just how he taught her.

"We were going to put mistletoe on the door when you came in; we finished the holiday card months ago so that was the one thing left on the to do list."

"Months ago? I helped you two make one last week!"

"Oh yeah, how were you going to hang up mistletoe, daughter mine? There's no nail." A soft thwump over the doorway. It seemed Clint had given Morgan her own bow. And she knew how to use it.

They collected their courage, scraps of reduced pride, some drool and a tiny drop of sweat before turning to the man they'd been waiting for for so long.

"Mr Parker, will you do me the honor of bestowing a kiss upon an old man with creaking bones and heating hair?"

Oh. Oh, this was happening.

"I love your hair and I'll get you a walker that has a cup holder for water and a few pain pills. Mr Stark, will you kiss a kid from Queens who's so into you the red devil of Cliffwood himself doesn't dare sleep with either of us and get in the way?"

"Well, first of all. A walker, really, am I that old. Second, nice call on the pain pills, very good save on the hair. And please. He'd never get in the way of us two-"

"Great, are you gonna kiss me?"

"Why, Mr Parker. Don't mind if I do." It was a soft statement he would otherwise confuse as a plea.

"Fucking finally." That was a bit more of a pained gasp instead of a sigh of relief, but Morgan and Rocky were doing enough sighing for the both of them afterwards.

Afterwards though, when the blood is finally distributed to the right places

"Yeah, I think I broke my wrist and you should get that throat checked. I'll get the car."

"Tony, it's the fifties. I can get the car while you call Bucky to look over the kids. Anyone talks to me and they'll think you had something to do with my throat."

"That is a fantastic idea, sweetheart. Save it for later, maybe raincheck?"

"Get the car, Tony."

"Yep. Come on, you rascals. Help an old man out."

----------

Wade can't look at Tony without howling, mutters something about a limp wrist while Vanessa sighs and apologizes, compliments Peter on surviving life with a ridiculous best friend by his side. He says it's ok. Wade's his go to guy for whenever Peter has to get his head in the game and his lips on Tony's.