#we read this wonderful beautiful melancholic book once called

[nephrosoupp-archive]

#asks#book recommendations#idk I read ..odd obscure things that peak my interest sorry#I like Ann Rule’s true crime novels! I just re-read uhh Last Dance Last Chance by her#it’s about a narcissistic murderous cosmetic surgeon heheh#and Oo I very much enjoyed The Night Stalker by Philip Carlo#on the life and crimes of Richard Ramirez#I think it was the first true crime novel I ever owned 👌#mya rambles and is dumb#classic literature is also good.. the stuff they teach in ap English lit was amazing#though I don’t think any of my classmates much enjoyed them haha#we read this wonderful beautiful melancholic book once called#The History of Love by Nicole Krauss and wow...

-tags from nephrosoupp

Hey Mya! Have you been reading anything recently? I'm most of the way through a book I've enjoyed very much. Now I'm trying to hold myself back from buying many, many books since I know I'll start a new one when I finish my current one jdhskdh

Hello how are you : D ? aw geez I think I spent most of my allowance on books as well.. it’s difficult to get English books here, which is frustrating (I borrow books from open library and archives.org though, which is noice! I finish most in one day :”) )

I re-read The Minus Man by Lew McCreary because,, the film is good but the book is spectacular, and hmm I re-read Spider by Patrick McGrath as soon as I finished Minus Man, bc they gave me similar vibes (?)

And oh! Birdy by William Wharton and I read a couple stories in some of McSweeney’s Publishing’s collection of books, they’re absurd and quite hilarious.. I also finished Leaving Las Vegas (John O’Brien) a while ago and it made me cry 🥲

I have a goodreads account (though I can’t go on there as often as I’d like because, even with vpn the app short circuits a lot in my country rip) but m-maybe there’ll be some books in my ‘want to read’ section that might interest you? Sorry for the long response aa please recommend some books to me as well

hope you’re having a wonderful day ! 💛

[moonlitdiane]

Queen Mother of the Dead The Abyssal — Xiwangmu 西王母.

Tales of a goddess of Death who wore a flowing white hanfu and a mask of bones once filled every corner of Hylaria. Once, she was the Queen Mother of the Dead and now; she is only The Abyssal. Once, people believed death was a chance to start anew, now death is an inescapable nightmare. Death used to smell of chrysanthemums and calming petrichor. Now it is rotten but deceptively sickeningly sweet.

"Xiwangmu once wore a terrifying mask to cover half of her ethereal beauty, the same face that had the mighty Sol falling from his throne. Doashis used to tell me that this was to symbolize the complicated nature of death, that on the surface it might seem terrifying, but if you just bothered to look past its icy surface, you will stumble upon its melancholic beauty—the beauty of the temporary.

Although we know her as Xiwangmu, there are whispers of a name only one pair of lips can utter. Xiao, is what Sol called her. Xiao. His little dawn. My job is not to sit here and dreamily sigh of my deity's matrimony, it is to preserve her in the way her followers remember but I cannot deny the inherently romantic about the goddess of Death being the god of Life's very own dawn. The light that breaks through the darkness of his nights.

Unfortunately, that was once upon a time long gone. We had been forced into hiding after the gods turned their back on her, after the entirety of Hylaria turned their back on us.

Did you know that the reason we play guzheng at funerals is because Xiwangmu herself was an exceptional guzheng player? There is also one tale, of a war forgotten, mostly unimportant. Xiwangmu joined none of the spats the rest of the pantheon got themselves into, but the one time she did—it was said that the sound of her fingers as it roughly, loudly, and terrifyingly plucked the strings of her ivory guzheng had paralyzed the entire world. She had finished a war even before it started. Her fingers bled for days, they said, that the blood that fell to our earth grew what we now know as red spider lilies.

Why do I tell you this? I know none of her followers will ever say it out loud, in fear of being more prosecuted than we already are but we are all desperate to hear the sound of strings playing loud enough to shake the core of Hylaria and strike fear into the hearts of the betrayers.

You know, dear reader? Sometimes I feel my own heart race reading about the things Sol himself had done for Xiwangmu but most times, I feel nothing, knowing that no matter how much they love you, they are still capable of destroying your heart, life, and being."

— excerpt from "Memoir of Shadows" written by Sun Fuchun, a follower of Death.

𓆩♡𓆪 PINTEREST BOARD 𓆩♡𓆪 PLAYLIST 𓆩♡𓆪

So...I might have impulsively made my Death in Sims 4????? The "excerpt" is also a preview of an edit I've been putting off for a while, I've had this idea of making a fake scan of a book about my Death in a while now, I just need to finish writing a few pages. Just wanted to post this one real quick because The Abyssal is still my favorite IF and I really wanted to post something new. And of course, as usual, The Abyssal is written by @theabyssal and their wonderful gorjus gorjus big brain!

[x0401x]

Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #15

Feel free to message me about possible corrections, and please consider supporting the creators by purchasing digital copies of the official releases: Novel || Manga || Fanbook. In case anyone is feeling generous: Ko-fi | PayPal. ( ╹◡╹)っ’･*

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Richard-sensei’s Cooking Classroom

On a bright morning in Kandy, a provincial town from Sri Lanka, a man was standing still in his kitchen. Leaning against the wall was a Japanese book titled “Breakfast for People Who Live Alone”. There were three items on the menu. Just an omelet with ketchup on top, boiled sausages and fruit salad yogurt.

Regardless, the kitchen where the man was standing was an explosion of colors, as if it were the atelier of some Dadaist painter. Perhaps he was wrong in trying to make an omelet, the blond man thought, tilting his head despondently. Loved by the god of beauty, his blond hair swayed smoothly, and on the wall behind him, the exploded omelet was scattered in all directions, giving off an artistic atmosphere. It was obvious that in order to cook an omelet on a frying pan, it was necessary to shake up said pan, but the specific method of how hard one should shake it had not even once made an appearance in his life, much like fairies and unicorns from fictional stories. As a result of him jerking the pan with moderate adjustment, the omelet had flown off, hitting the wall and dripping down under the influence of gravity.

The beautiful man cast his eyes at the opposite side of the kitchen with a melancholic look as well. His golden eyelashes reflected a rainbow-colored prism and shone like an emerald-green sea under the morning sun. In a corner, where a microwave and water heater sat on top of the kitchen table, something orange had burst all over the place from within the microwave. Just why did food blow up so often, the man wondered, silently ashamed of his ignorance for trying to reduce just two rules of thumb to common sense. When he put three vacuum-packed blood sausages in the microwave and warmed them up, the sausages lost their original shape with a faint explosive sound. Obeying the instructions that said, “Bain-marie or microwave”, the man had chosen the microwave, which seemed less difficult, but probably due to some process being neglected or the heating time being incorrect, the sausages had undergone a magical transformation, looking like some sort of eerie monster.

Moving his feet so as not to make a sound, the man headed to the dining room, lightly placing a hand on the large table and elegantly gazing at the tabletop. Fragments of yellow and green were floating on a sea of white.

“Fruits yogurt,” the man whispered, as if it were a magic spell, heaving a spring breeze-like sigh.

It was just chopped fruits floating on yogurt. Taking into account the possibility that he could not cut the fruits too meticulously, the man was out of luck to have a slicer with him, and by the moment he realized that this one was apparently not supposed to be used for fruits but rather for slicing things such as cabbages and carrots into thin pieces, the fruits that he had failed to chop had gone flying over the table, surrounding the bowl of yogurt and instantaneously creating a Genesis-like scene on the tabletop. It was chaos.

On 360 degrees, no matter where he looked, it was a foodstuff hell. After looking around one more time at the artistic misery he had created and sighing coarsely, he started anew and began doing a quick cleaning.

   “Morning, Richard. You slept well, I see.”

“Good morning, Seigi. So you wake up early even in Sri Lanka. Short sleepers have shorter lives. Didn’t you go to bed yesterday when it was already past midnight?”

“That’s fine for today. I have a guest here, after all. I’ll catch up with my sleep tomorrow.”

“I have not done so much to be called a ‘guest’.”

“There, there; let’s leave that for after we eat.”

His face looking like he was checking on something, the man whose appearance was impeccable even first-thing in the morning, as usual, glanced at the kitchen and dining room of my Sri Lankan house, and then let out a tiny sigh, stopping by a place close to the garden.

“Hey, could it be you woke up early this morning? Like, around 5AM...”

“Why?”

“I wonder if it was my imagination.”

In this three-story house, the first floor was a shared space for the dining room and bathroom, while the second and third floors had bedrooms. The room that I used as my main one was on the second floor, and the room on the third floor was used when Richard came over to be my overseer, but only the first floor had a bathroom. Whenever someone was going down to the first floor, one could tell by the sound of them stepping on the stairs. That was no big deal when I was alone, but this was the kind of house that would disturb other people’s sleep if I didn’t walk quietly whenever I needed to use the toilet in the middle of the night.

At around five o’clock, probably because I was drowsy, I had the feeling that someone had gone downstairs. I went back to sleep thinking that maybe Richard, who was looking after me despite having a jetlag, felt like having a late-night snack or something, but it was apparently a wrong guess.

Said man, dressed in a soft-looking shirt and the beige pants that he usually wore when he was relaxed, was standing still with eyes wide-open. It seemed he had noticed what was on the table. I was happy with the reaction.

“I’ve got breakfast for us. Hope it suits your taste.”

“Why? You said yesterday that your breakfast was just cereal and fruits.”

“I indeed said this yesterday, but I wanted to show it’s really not like that every single day. I also didn’t want you to worry for no reason.”

Plain omelets, sausages and fruit salad. For some reason, this house had many pottery dishes from European brands instead of Sri Lankan ones, but they were working out well for today. The paintings of green and pink pedicels over a white background were apparently from a German brand. It was actually my first time making a breakfast like this, which looked like it could show up in a commercial for some newly built apartment building and wasn’t as filling as its appearance suggested, but it had been surprisingly fun.

“I saw the recipe book in the kitchen. It’s a present for me, right? Thank you. I was happy to read a book in Japanese after so long, so I decided to make the part that showed up when I opened it into our menu. Now, now, please have a seat and eat up.”

For about solid ten seconds, Richard stared at the one-plate breakfast, his gaze looking like he was seeing a stone that he had never set his eyes on before, but then, after giving a start as if just remembering that I existed, he sat down with his same-old graceful demeanor.

“Well then, shall we?”

And so, Richard ate breakfast next to me. At times like these, this man would become extremely well-mannered, taking notice of and praising the details, such as the fineness of the omelet’s texture and the beauty of the fruit cuts in the yogurt, as if he were evaluating a five-million-yen jewelry or something. Even while being in Sri Lanka, I sometimes thought that if there were teachers like him in middle or high school around Japan, it would save many children.

“Thanks; that makes me happy. I’m benefiting from it too. Getting so many compliments for just boiling sausages.”

I didn’t know very well how to describe Richard’s face when I said that. His expression seemed like it could be the theme of a masterpiece painting, as if the exceptionally beautiful man had suddenly been reminded of an indescribable pain in the depths of his chest, but was struggling not to expose it in his facial expression. When I asked what was up, the reply was a gentle smile. His usual face was already back.

“I believe I have already said this several times, but you are extremely smart. You decipher the texts, assemble the methods in your head and put them to practice. There are more hardships in this process than you can imagine. Nevertheless, you specialize at it. This is clearly a talent of yours. Be sure to cherish it.”

“I will. But, well, I think doing my best because someone else’s gonna eat it also counts.”

For security reasons, I wasn’t allowed to invite guests to this house. I was sometimes called over to the house of a local friend I had made, and then I’d cook a simple dish there, but guests that make several meticulous dishes on the spot were probably not very welcome. So whenever there were days like these, when “guests” officially recognized by the house’s owner, Saul-san, occasionally came over, it was a great opportunity for me have a change of pace.

While thanking Richard for washing the dishes, I cleaned up the dining room and before moving on to stone study, which was my daily routine in the morning (at any rate, I had to examine stones thoroughly, guess their prices and drill the right and wrong ones into my head; pretty simple), I asked him about lunch. Richard-sensei was very busy. No time for leisure.

“You’ll be off again in the evening flight, right? What we gonna do about lunch? If you’re leaving at three o’clock, then you’ll still be in Kandy at noon, right? Can we go to a restaurant I like?”

“What a good thing it is that you found a ‘restaurant you like’ in this country. Allow me to accompany you.”

While smiling, Richard was about to let out a yawn, yet he hastily bit it down. He was like a prideful cat. As I thought, he seemed a little sleepy. When I suggested him to go to bed again, he said that he didn’t mind it, since he was going to sleep in the night flight either way. And yet he was calling me a short sleeper.

I glanced at the dining room and the kitchen. They were neatly organized. From their tidy and orderly state, I could tell with just a look that I obviously hadn’t cleaned them to this point last night. There wasn’t a single speck of dust on the floor. Despite the difference between the inside and outside of the house being so vague. There was no evidence left, but it was clear that something had happened here. Not a murder, but a more peaceful and heartwarming incident. The suspect showed no signs of confessing. So I wouldn’t say anything either. No particular comments on the multiple rags and some food remains at the bottom of the organic waste bag. I only had one thing that I wanted to say no matter what, so I hoped he’d just let me say it.

After finishing the meal, I waited for the beautiful man to stand up, and then I went behind Richard, clutching his shoulders. I was going to say it before he turned around, asking what I was doing. It was best if I didn’t see his face. There was no telling what I could say when I was staring at him in fascination.

“I myself don’t know very well what I’m talking about, so I want you to forget it in two seconds, but I was reeeally happy for this morning. Really happy. To a shocking extent.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I said I didn’t know either, right? I don’t get it, but anyway, I was happy. That’s all! Aight, study time.”

Without looking at Richard’s face until the very end, I started knocking a thousand gemstones in my workspace on the first floor. I had to look over them while it was morning. This was my current job. Richard didn’t say anything else, but his back looked calm under his shirt, so I was a bit relieved as well. Thinking back on it now, I had taken the wrong path at that time. I should have told him “not to overdo it” more clearly.

Two weeks later, Richard came back, but this time, I heard a small explosion at 6AM. Three times in a row. What did it take for things to turn out this way? The current time was already 7AM. Between getting up right now or not, which one would be less of a hassle later on? I didn’t even want to think about what had been made of the dining room. There was no one other than the two of us in this house and this wasn’t a matter that I had to go as far as asking the landlord, Saul-san, for advice on, so I knew I was the one who had to deal with it anyway. I wanted someone to decide in my stead. What should I do?

[roc-writes]

Blooming Ventus

I only started playing Genshin Impact this week but I HAVE FEELINGS and I WILL share them. In fan-fiction form B)

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Pairing (If you squint): Venti x Traveler Warnings: It’s a tad bit melancholic but the ending isn’t!

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"Dandelion, Dandelion, ride the wind to a faraway land," The story began, as it always did, and the memories of your favorite story flooded back once you turned the page. It was evening in Windrise, underneath the titanic oak tree the people of Mondstadt associated The Falcon of the East with. Its broad leaves had become something of a comfort for you whenever your travels brought you back to your first home, where you had awoken in Teyvat. You paused from rereading the anthology clutched in your hands to laugh. No, calling Mondstadt your first home would be doing it a great injustice. It has, and always will be, your only home. It sounded ironic, calling this place your home when Barbatos himself declared this the city of freedom and never remained so rooted to one spot, one home. Or that’s how you saw it, anyway. You called this your home, but it and your entire life remained a constant and forever.

What would he think, you wondered to yourself. Actually, he would have just teased you, the answer was clear as the stars above Teyvat. Barbatos… Venti seemed to have no greater pleasure in this world than popping as many of your veins as possible in a single sitting. You loved that though. No matter how turned around the Anemo Archon made you, how many jabs and jokes were played at your expense, they always seemed so soft and playful. He would sound of the softest wind-chimes whenever he laughed and you could never stay upset. And if you had the right mind to jab back at him his laughter only grew before both of you ended up in a fit of laughter. It reminded you of your sibling that still evades you no matter how far and wide you search for them. That is why you were here, underneath the tree and down on your luck. Zhongli may be a retired Archon, but even he couldn’t make the search instant and you understood that. His connections asked you to wait for more information, and thus you found yourself back in Windrise with a copy of your favorite book at your side.

“The Fox in the Dandelion Sea? How odd, I never considered that your type of read.” Lisa murmured one day while she approached your table with two plates of food. It was return day for the books lent out of the library, and she somehow always managed to rope you into tagging along. It was her turn to pay and you had taken to reading your book in the time you were apart. The witch eyed the leather binding, worn in places along the spine where you rested your palm against, but the foiled pages within were kept in immaculate condition. “But I can tell it is very beloved. That’s so hard to find these days.” You finally snapped yourself out of the passage you were reading to eye a beaming Lisa.

“Ah… about that, interesting story…” You trailed off, feeling a heat rise to your cheeks as your fingers drew anxious circles into the leather. Lisa immediately cooed and plopped down onto her chair beside you. There was no way out of this now. “It was a gift. Or, almost. A friend of mine showed me around the city one night. He kept raving about how he thought of me when recalling this story, but it just made me angry at first.” Lisa quirked her head to one side, almost frowning.

“Oh?”

“I skimmed the last book before reading the first ten. The ending left a sour taste in my mouth.” There was a resigned sound coming from your friend and you shook your head quickly. “I gave it a shot, nonetheless. And it changed everything entirely for me. The story is beautiful, and bittersweet. It’s hard for two worlds to collide, I mean just look at me. Mondstadt is what I know and love, no matter how much I travel it feels… strange to be away from home.”

You smiled softly as you came back to the present. Visiting past memories that are full of happiness and friendship is what you did most days. Everyone has a life, people they care about, and your life was pulled from normalcy, thrown off course, and shattered all your preconceptions. When you were with friends, that truth was easy to hide. When everyone was off with their responsibilities, the truth came crashing down onto you. And you felt much too imposing to ask to tag along. You sighed softly, looking at the spaces in between each leaf that hung above you as they rustled in the breeze. At least the wind was always there for you. Closing your eyes, you nearly fell asleep underneath the massive oak, but that was nothing new. You spent more time here than your own room offered to you by the Knights of Favonius during your stay.

“…?” You opened your eyes as something distinctly sounded like a voice with no words, finding a small wind sprite directly above you. You had spent many nights under this tree, but never have you seen this one. You offered a small smile.

“Hello there, I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.” You spoke softly. The sprite floated upside-down, watching you with two small pinpricks of eyes. Something about the carefree floating spirit just made you laugh softly. “But it is lovely to meet you.” Satisfied, the sprite flitted down to sit on the book at your lap. “Ah! You’re wondering what I’m reading? It’s my favorite book, The Fox in the Dandelion Sea.” To clear the way for you, the sprite switched positions to rest atop your shoulder. It tilted its head just a bit and you were reminded of Lisa in that gesture.

“You want me to read to you? I…” A moment of pause came from you and you swallowed thickly. “I… I can’t. I’m sorry. The only person I’ve read to before, you see, showed this to me in the first place. And the night before I left to travel across Teyvat, I read the first chapter aloud…” Unable to control the sudden pain you felt in your chest and eyes, you clutched the fabric of your clothes and stop thinking about the book’s history. “I never saw them again and… I’m afraid someone else will leave if I dare utter another word aloud.” The first droplets of tears collided onto the parchment and you quickly closed the book shut before your unplanned show of Hydro could damage anything. The sprite’s little feathers drooped at those words, eyes looking down. The wind that had been quiet shook awake once again, lifting the droplets of tears into the air. You inhaled deeply.

“The wind amongst the branches feels good, I love the way it smells… That’s what we say when we’re down on our luck, right?” You spoke to the wind, wondering if it would carry those tears to Venti in some poetic manner. You wanted both for it to happen and not. Clutching the book close to your chest, you pulled your knees up to lean against. “I miss you so much Venti… Had I been born a fox, I could transform into a dandelion and float to you. I just want to see you.” The ground you were staring at stopped shifting, the wind had stopped. And then it suddenly blew harder than it had ever before. You could hear it howling against your eardrums, deafening, frigid, and powerful. You had closed your eyes, hugging your precious book close, the only physical memory you had of Venti. You could handle the sorrow of the universe, but not the possibility of losing him.

It was then that something squeezed your shoulders, urging you to open your eyes. Bright cerulean ones blinked back at you, braids that ended in an ombre blue dancing wildly around them. Your eyes welled up in more tears.

Venti.

[lifeofkaze]

A Summer Night’s Dream

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x Reader (kinda, but not really)

Prompts: A Whole New World - Aladdin

Object: Ornate Mirror

Dialogue: Okay, now I’m impressed.

 Colour: Lilac

Word Count: ~ 1.700

I looked at the girl staring back at me. She sat across from me and was brushing her long silky hair. The curtain behind her billowed in the breeze entering the room from the widely opened windows, carrying on it the melancholic song of a nightingale, the scent of the blooming lilac bushes littering the gardens heavy in the air.

My eyes shifted to the door of my room as my mother appeared in its frame. Nothing more than her silhouette was visible against the bright lights of the hallway behind her.

“Our guests will be arriving soon. Do you have everything you need?”

She saw me nodding in confirmation and walked over to the windows, shutting them tight.

“Mother, can you leave them open? It’s such a beautiful night.”

Her reflection appeared next to the girl I had been looking at in the antique ornate mirror of my vanity. She bent down, her face next to mine, mother and daughter a spitting image of each other. She smiled patiently, while her skilled fingers weaved my hair into a braid.

“You know I don’t like it when they’re open. You could catch a cold.”

She pressed a kiss onto my head and I stifled a sigh. Of course.

I wished her a good night and turned around to observe my reflection once again. Looking back at me was a perfect little girl, ever the obedient daughter. All my life I had followed the rules my parents had set for me, never failing to meet their expectations.

But tonight was different.

My eyes shifted to the little note I had tucked under my music box so my mother wouldn’t notice it. An ancient, tattered looking owl had dropped it off on my windowsill this morning. The parchment was already crinkled and worn from the numerous times I had folded and unfolded it. A nervous excitement was rising in my chest, so I picked it up and read it again.  

Let me show you the world.

The parchment rustled as I carried it over to the window, quietly opening it again. The heavy scent of the lilacs enveloped me once more as I leaned forward to observe the starry summer sky. I wondered what it would be like to just take to the air and fly towards the horizon.

My gaze dropped to the lush green gardens of my family’s estate below me. There wasn’t a single corner I didn’t know by heart; my parents had never allowed me to venture beyond their walls without their company. They were afraid of the monsters lurking out there, waiting to devour their precious little child.

It couldn’t have been more than an hour later when I saw a small figure scaling the outer wall and dropping into the bushes lining the brick work. An excited smile formed on my lips as the person approached my open window and I leaned forward a little bit further.

Even in the darkness that was only illuminated by the scattered stars above, his ginger hair was glowing and my heart jumped in anticipation as my friend raised his hands to his mouth, forming a hollow space between them. A deceptively real calling of an owl echoed up to me moments later, the secret sign we had agreed upon.

The boy’s name was Charlie, Charlie Weasley. He and his family lived close to my family’s manor, but I had only met him last year when we had started our first year at Hogwarts together. Although we had been sorted into different Houses, it hadn’t taken long for us to become friends.

Both of us had wanted to get the same book from the library, a tome full of stories and myths about dragons. We had quarrelled over it for a bit, but then decided to share, reading it to each other in turns.

Charlie lived and breathed for dragons, there was nothing he was as passionate about as these magnificent creatures. As for me, I had always loved stories about dragons, fairies and adventures. It was my only way to experience something different, to get a taste of the world outside my cage.

He had a habit of teasing me because of my frail appearance and my small knowledge of the wizarding world, despite being part of one of the old pureblood families. On the last day of our first year, as we were boarding the Hogwarts Express, he had promised to not forget me; to come and make me see something special.

“Why are you still up there?” he called, careful not to raise his voice too loudly.

“We have guests, I can’t use the door,” I answered apologetically.

“And what now?”

“Wait,” I grinned, and set my foot on the windowsill. My hands and feet quickly found the familiar nooks and ledges in the walls as I climbed down through the green ivy, hopping down the last few feet.

It wasn’t the first time I had snuck into the gardens at night. My parents were very clear about leaving the grounds on my own; they had never mentioned the gardens.

I giggled at Charlie’s incredulous stare. The sound snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Okay, now I’m impressed,” he admitted with a laugh.  

“There is more to me than meets the eye, you know,” I responded with a smile.

His eyes lit up with mischief. “Do you want to prove it?”

I crossed my arms at the challenge. “How?”

Charlie turned around and walked back the way he had come with me following behind. I watched silently as he climbed up the wall again and perched on its top, looking down at me expectantly.

But I was tentative to follow him. I could have scaled it easily, but despite knowing what had been tonight’s plan, I hesitated.

“What’s wrong?”

I gulped. “I’ve never been so far on my own.”

Charlie smiled reassuringly at me. “But you’re not on your own.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

He leaned forward and extended his hand down towards me. His eyes sparkled warmly. “Do you trust me?”

I looked at him surprised. “What?”

“Do you trust me?”

There was something in his voice that melted all my doubts away. It was so confident and carefree and full of trust that nothing bad would happen; all the things I wished I could be.

“Yes.”

Answering his smile, I extended my arm to grab his hand and let him pull me up towards him.

 *

With every step Charlie led me away from my home I felt my concerns dwindle, making place for all the wonders I had only ever known from storybooks.

We wandered through the nightly fields, crickets chirping so loudly I had to shout to make myself heard.

We waded through a nearby brook with bare feet, the icy water making me shriek as my foot slipped on a stone and sent me tumbling into Charlie.

We feasted on blackberries straight from the bush, nothing I had known before having ever tasted as sweet.

We tried to catch the fireflies floating around us with our bare hands, releasing them again into the night after we had finally caught one.

And we lay on the top of a hill, gazing at the sky and watching for shooting stars. I was listening to all the stories Charlie told me of his family. The fun he had with his siblings, the fights they had sometimes and how they returned to a welcoming home after a day filled with love and laughter like only a family can.

I never knew such a kind of magic even existed.

As I lay in the cool grass, listening to the animated stories of my friend, the sky in the east began to lighten, slowly turning from ink blue to the lighter, softer shade of the lilac flowers in our garden.

Charlie pulled me up from where I lay and walked me back towards my home. As I saw the vast building approach, I grew more and more silent; as I hopped down the wall into the garden, I hadn’t said a word for a long time.

“Is everything alright?” Charlie asked softly, worry in his voice.

I nodded with a melancholic smile. “Yes, and I thank you a lot for this night. But every dream has to end sometime.”

I watched as the sun began showing on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pinks and orange, beautiful to behold. “It is time to wake up now.”

Charlie’s freckled face, usually never devoid of at least the ghost of a smile, showed concern at my saddened tone.

“It needn’t stay a dream, you know?”  

He stepped closer to me, embracing me in an awkward hug and quickly pressed an innocent kiss onto my cheek. He smelled like grass and wood and blackberries.

Both of us blushed deeply; my hand went to my cheek, while he fixed his gaze on the ground. When he looked up eventually, I could see determination set in his eyes.

“No one deserves to be locked up. I’ll come back for you, I promise. Your dream deserves to be real.”

And with that, he spun around, clambered back over the wall and vanished out of sight.

I stared at the spot where he had stood just a moment ago, before I shook my head with a smile and slowly wandered back through the lilac bushes towards the house. I deeply inhaled the sweet scent and reminisced the snippets Charlie had shown me of this other world. His world.

 *

After I had climbed up the ivy and back into my room again, careful not to wake my parents, I sat down in front of the mirror where I had sat hours ago.

Where the perfect little girl sitting on my stool had looked back at me with sad and anxious eyes before, she was now relaxed, smiling softly, her eyes sparkling with all the lovely memories she had made tonight.

I chuckled as I pulled some lilac petals that had tangled in my braid out of my hair and placed them next to my mirror.

Who knew, on summer nights like this, maybe some dreams did become reality.

[hellotvshowtrash]

Tale As Old As Time (Bonenzo)

A series of instances in which Bonnie and Enzo find themselves falling in love with one another until one of them confesses

Here is my entry for the #Happy2021promptchallenge! I had SO much fun with this prompt. Reblog/like if you enjoyed!

Enzo St. John x Bonnie Bennett

Warnings: sadness, “unrequited” love

Word Count: 1.3k

(credits to gif owner<3)

Bonnie sighed as she heard the strums of guitar strings in the other room of Enzo’s safe house. She squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears as she laid on the bed trying to study grimoires from her grandmother. Her elbows dug into the soft comforter as she propped herself up, trying to concentrate on her reading. Soon, the soft strums were accompanied by a melodic voice, Enzo singing to himself quietly. She paused her reading, her eyes slowly moving up from the book and to the door of the bedroom. She listened intently. Her irritation melted away as she heard his sweet, low voice. What he was singing was unintelligible to her, but the mumble of his singing was the most heart-wrenching sound. He sounded lonely, even though she was just in the other room. ’He is lonely.’ She confirmed to herself. ‘We’re two different people just trying to get by,’ She kept listening to his song, his voice rising and lowering with the chords of the guitar he played. He stopped singing as he finished the song, as the silence enveloped her once again, Bonnie felt lonely too.

--

Enzo stumbled into the cabin carrying multiple grocery bags in each hand. ‘Humans eat too much.’ He was mid-grumble when he caught sight of Bonnie sitting at the window, looking out into the sunlit forest surrounding them. The sight of her bathed in the bright light made his breath hitch, and it was then that he realized how really, truly, beautiful she was. Her hair was brighter in the sunlight, still a dark brown, but it seemed to move in waves of chocolate. Her eyes shone a brighter green than ever thanks to the sun’s reflection. Her lips were slightly parted and perfect. She seemed to be too deep in thought to notice he had entered, and if she had noticed, she probably would have ignored him anyway. So, Enzo steeled himself to look away from her and finished bringing in the groceries.

--

Bonnie bustled about the cabin, keeping herself busy with cleaning and reading, distracting herself from the boredom creeping in on her. As she wiped the window clean with a cloth, she caught sight of Enzo outside the cabin, chopping wood for the fireplace. It was the beginning of autumn, and the chill was starting to settle into the bones of the cabin and soon enough, Bonnie’s as well. The fact that Enzo thought deeply enough to chop wood to keep her warm melted her inside. She bit her lip to prevent her smile and she continued to clean the window. Enzo pretended he didn’t see her looking.

—

This time, it was Enzo who sat in a chair by the window, reading some fiction book that he’s read a thousand times over. Bonnie peered from the couch where she sat, the silence in the room was thick. The sun shone on his dark hair, caramel highlights making themselves known. His eyes were honey in the sunlight as they trailed the words in the book he concentrated on. Bonnie got lost in thought as she watched his hand delicately turn the page, nimble fingers lightly moving the paper. She sucked in a breath and moved her eyes back to his, which were looking right at her. She blinked a few times and shook her head, embarrassed, before returning to the grimoire she was trying to study. If she hadn’t turned away, she would’ve seen the smile Enzo sent her, and her heart would’ve fluttered.

—

The first snow had fallen and Bonnie couldn’t sleep. She lightly padded her way into the main living area. The cold had set in when the fire was put out. Bonnie thought about how easily she could light a fire with a simple spell before she felt melancholic thinking about her dearly departed magic. She knew the magic-suppressing-pills were to protect her, but she missed her craft. She perched herself on the couch. She let the cold pierce her skin, her sadness welcomed it as a friend. Like a breeze, Enzo had placed himself at the opposite end of the couch, watching her closely. Her features were tinged with sadness. She stared at the empty fireplace and Enzo stared at her. 

“I can feel you staring,” she said. He smiled slightly and looked away.

“Sorry, love,” his voice was quiet as to not disturb the blanket of silence.

“Don’t call me that,” her voice was flat and cold.

“Ultimately, it would be better if we could try to be acquaintances,” he muttered. His eyes travelled back up her form, curled tightly into the corner of the couch. She seemed so small. “I understand you’ve hated me since we met, but it would make this time together at least bearable if we could live in this space mutually.” He planted his fist into the cushion next to him, hoisting himself up from the couch. Before he could stand, he felt her cold fingers wrap around his wrist, pulling him back onto the couch. He turned his head to look at her, confused. Her face was almost pained, contorted in some embarrassed expression.

“I never hated you..” she whispered, her eyes were piercing as she stared at him. “You just make me feel things I don’t understand. I never wanted to fall in love with a vampire. I couldn’t understand how Elena did it.. Twice. And then I met you.” His eyes softened, but the other side of the statement didn’t go missed, and he was hurt by her selection of words. 

“I assure you, if you don’t want to fall in love with me, you’re not obligated,” he bit back, removing her grip from his wrist and standing. “We’re not enemies, Bonnie. We’re on the same side. And in case you were wondering,” he bent down and kissed her forehead gently, “I love you, too.”

Bonnie felt her heart warm and ache at the same time. “I didn’t mean it like that, Enzo. I just mean.. I want to fall in love with you. But I’ve seen what can happen and how bad it can hurt if something does happen.” She said sheepishly, looking at her hands on her lap. Enzo moved to put more wood into the fireplace and strike a match. The fire started to grow, and he crouched next to it, his eyes watching the flames lick the fresh wood. Bonnie lifted her eyes to look at Enzo, to appreciate his muscular form, his slick hair. She stood too and moved over next to him, sitting crossed legged on the floor. 

“I know what can happen too,” he muttered, the fire dancing in his eyes. “But anything that could happen can’t be worse than living without you,” he turned to look at her, her eyes flooding her tears at his words. The cold finally melted away, not because of the fire, but because of him. Their eyes remained locked on one another, and he smiled gently, reaching a hand out to wipe away a tear that had fallen down her face. “I know these last few months have been hard on you. Let me help you,” he whispered, cupping her cheek gently. She nodded as another tear spilled down. He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers, allowing the electricity to run between them. She sighed lightly, her eyes drifting closed. He kept his eyes open and on her face as he pressed his lips to hers again, more sure of himself now. He pulled away and watched her reaction as her chest heaved, her breath escaping her in the best way. He grasped her hips and turned her to face him before sitting himself in front of her, kissing her again and again, the intensity growing with each peck, nibble and breath.

The snow fell outside the cabin, cold and foreboding. But inside, the cabin was filled with love and warmth and peace. Bonnie and Enzo didn’t know what came next, but they knew that they would face it together.

[shianhygge-imagines]

Silver Rose [Vergil/Reader] [V/Reader] {Devil May Cry} The Mortal Half

AN: I apologize for the wait! The road of life took a bit of a wild turn, and my writing (along with a few other things) suffered for it.

On another note... anyone as excited for DMC5: Special Edition as I am :D 

This chapter is a long one that I wanted to write and post as soon as possible (I was tempted to wait until all chapters of Visions of V were out). I will probably come back to re-explore V’s character at a later time because damn it, Visions of V really kicked my ass with the character development.

WARNING: As I have mentioned in a separate post, there is a section of smut in here. This is actually the first full smut scene I’ve ever written, so please excuse the awkwardness... and the kinks... and if it sucks.

So, yeah. It’s now a Vergil/Reader as well as a V/Reader story. Cheers!

If you like the content I create, please consider donating to my Ko-fi! Please help me feed my tea addiction!

|Masterlist Link|    |First Chapter|    |Prev. Ch.| --- |Next Ch.|

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

4th May 01:40pm

When you woke the next morning, Shadow was still curled into your side, its eyes closed and seemingly content despite the afternoon sunlight pouring through the windows. Though you’d slept peacefully through the rest of the night, it was rather strange having another presence in the same bed as you. After all, you hadn’t shared your bed with another individual since Vergil had started leaving on his alarmingly frequent trips away from your home in Red Grave City. And although it had been years since you visited that place, the mere thought of those nights brought a frown to your previously content face. Closing your eyes and exhaling slowly, you mentally gave the box of memories a rough shove away.

It’s best not to dwell on unpleasant thing, Y/N. You muse to yourself with the slightest tensing of your body.

Sensing your change in mood, Shadow shifted to rest a lightly dozing head on your stomach, cracking a single ruby eye open to check on you as a purr rumbles throughout its body in an effort to calm you.

Running a hand through the shadow panther’s silky ‘fur’, you hummed absentmindedly in response. “Just unpleasant memories, Shadow.” When the remnant of your husband’s memories merely huffs in a feline scoff, you turn to cuddle into the Nightmare demon. “I am 100% sure that V didn’t tell me the truth last night… but if there’s anything I’ve learned over the years, prying is generally not the correct course to take to learn the whole truth. Still though,” you sigh wistfully, “My life has been so chaotic and cryptic that there are times where I wish that I was born a normal girl.”

Although you wished to say more, your lips clam up the moment that you hear a knock at the door. “Y/N? It’s nearly 2pm. Are you awake, yet?”

You share a look with Shadow, “Well, speak of the devil, I guess.” You don’t bother moving as you call out to the moral man, “You can come in, V. I’m awake, but I sure as hell ain’t getting out of bed yet.” Even though you say this, you lift your head to peer over Shadow’s dark body as V enters the room with an eyebrow raised.

“Do you have any intention of leaving your bed, Y/N? It’s well into the afternoon.” V inquires with a furrowed brow as he closes the door and continues forward to the side of the bed with a limp.

“Oh…. Is it? I hadn’t noticed.” You remark cheerfully, settling back down into the sheets as you pet Shadow. “I don’t think I will any time soon, no.”

Unsure as to how to proceed with your blatant denial to rise from bed, V gestures towards the edge of your king sized bed. “May I have a seat?”

“Knock yourself out, V. This bed is too big anyways, so… ‘free real estate’ I guess.” You found yourself repeating the meme that a group of orphans in Fortuna City had taken the time to teach you… though you were unsure if you had used the meme in the proper context.

Your eyes shifted to meet V’s green once you felt the edge of the bed dip to your left. In the daylight, with the sun’s rays pouring into the room, V seemed… sickly. It was worrying how skinny and pale he was despite the hint of power you could feel in him. If it weren’t for his contract with Vergil’s remnants, you would not have any confidence in V’s ability to defend himself should you all take on Urizen. And once Vergil had been defeated again (though you found yourself in pain just thinking about killing your beloved), would the powers disappear and leave the young man before you weak and on the verge of collapse?

“There’s no need to worry, Y/N.” V’s gaze is almost gentle as he reassures you, “I promise that I’ll not suddenly collapse.” Not realizing that you had been staring, you blinked your eyes and mumbled an apology. “No, don’t apologize. It is only natural to doubt my abilities when I look like this.” The young man gestures towards his weakened body with a carefully bitter expression that would stick with you for days to come. “My powers are limited, which is why it is absolutely imperative that we stop Urizen before he grows too powerful.” When you don’t respond, trying to find a way to comment without offending him, V took it as a sign of sadness. “I couldn’t help but overhear you before I entered. That you wished that you were born to a normal life.”

Your face scrunches up as you force yourself to sit, “If I’m being perfectly honest, V… I don’t really know you well enough to pour my heart and soul out.”

V’s smile remains slightly bitter even as he pulls out the anthology of William Blake poems and hands it over to you. “Fair enough, Ms. Y/N. By all means, save your words. I only ask that you listen to what I have learned about you and your past.” When you reluctantly take a hold of the tome, V gestures towards it, “The note written on the back cover of that volume seems to imply that the person who gifted it to you was rather fond of you.”

The book’s cover was immaculate, but upon closer inspection, you noticed that the pages have yellowed from its age. Brows scrunched and curious, you immediately flipped to the back cover and withheld a gasp at the painfully familiar handwriting scrawled along the back cover.

To my beautiful silver rose,

Perhaps it is just the slightest bit vain that I gift this book to you. After all, an exact copy of this anthology sits on my book shelf in the study. But I noticed that you’ve taken a deeper interest in these old poems as of late, so I sought out a copy for yourself. Please do not think I turn a blind eye to your sadness when I am away, Y/N. I do my best to comfort you while I have you in my arms, but I must see my goals through. When I am gone, please read these poems and think of me. Just as I will think of you.

Rest assured that no matter how far I travel, Y/N, that I will always find my way back to you.

Your loving husband,

Vergil Sparda

“You were in that place, weren’t you?” You asked V as your fingers traced the note written into the cover. “There is no way you’d have this particular volume if you hadn’t been.”

V nodded, his eyes carefully watching as you caressed the book. “When I found Vergil’s remnants, they had been drawn to that book which had been left in one of the upstairs bedrooms.”

“I left it there when Vergil embarked on his quest through Hell.” You admitted, melancholic. “The book had been a constant reminder of an empty promise, so I tried to bury my past. Obviously it didn’t work, but I left the book in Vergil’s childhood room regardless.”

“Why the book?” V wondered, “Aside from the note in the back, the tome seems ordinary.”

Handing the book back to the younger man, you merely smiled a tame smile, “It was a symbol of hope that I didn’t want, as well as a constant reminder that the man I love abandoned me in favor of demonic power.” Slipping out of bed, you grabbed a robe and ventured into the bathroom, only a final statement leaving your lips before the door shut behind you, “And nothing’s worse than to be reminded that I wasn’t enough.”

22nd May 11:32am

You’re not sure if you should be worried or relieved by how easy it was to trail V through the city wreckage as you sprinted and jumped from one roof to another. The mysterious young man traversed the streets below with his Nightmare demons protecting him as low leveled demons appeared along the path. Over the course of the past few days, you and V had taken shelter within your home in Red Grave City. Although there were times where you interacted, V regularly ventured out into the city on patrols and supply runs, seemingly under the impression that you were still injured from the encounter with Urizen at the heart of the Qliphoth Tree. More often than not, V would leave in the afternoons and return in the morning.

Although you were touched by his care for your well-being, you still couldn’t but feel distrustful and suspicious of V. The names of his demon contracts… Hence your current trailing… and as it turns out, his actual hair color is white.

With how many demons there were roaming the streets, you were surprised that V had lasted this long. Though, from your spot seated on the roof above the corner where V fought to protect a small group of surviving humans, you could tell that the younger man was becoming weaker the more he used his abilities. You would jump down and aid him if he needed it, but only if he needed it.

Your initial assessment of V was that he didn’t care for humans in the slightest after watching him walk fast the human corpses without a care. The way the younger looking man had gazed upon the carnage with indifference… you remembered shivering and thinking that there was no way he was completely human. Though, after that night, you were pleased to learn that V had quickly taken up the role as protector while the humans evacuated.

Your attention drifted back into the present when V slumped over below you, exhausted as he sat upon a pile of demon corpses. The humans that he had protected were cowering against the wall opposite of V, and you frowned when none rose to offer aid to the sickly man, who had begun to pale more than he normally did.

You heard V heave a tired sigh as he asked Griffon a question, “How many days has it been?”

The demon summon flapped its wings and hovered above his master, “Three.”

V slumped over, curling in upon himself, his dark hair hanging to cover his face. “I’m not sure that I can even last a month.” Your frown deepened at that comment. That’s news to me… shit. Now I feel bad for not helping him. You rose from your seated position and removed your eyes from V to sweep the area with a vigilant gaze.

“You’re just going willy-nilly, spending all your strength like that.” Griffon squawked mockingly, “Nicely done, buddy. If you continue like this, you’re gonna croak before the kid even returns.”

So, V’s dying? You wondered, Who is he? What’s his deal? How is he involved in this mess to begin with? Your gaze also darkens when the humans call V and Griffon monsters. We have to protect humanity, yes. But this is one of those times where I understand Vergil’s distaste for humanity. Then again… nothing is perfect.

Your eyes sweep briefly back down to make sure that V was in the clear while searching for food just as you felt several demonic presences appear behind you. Stepping away from the ledge, you nodded and unsheathed the Totsuka just as several Hell Bats and a Lusachia attempt to ambush you.

Your steps are quiet as you slide under several fireballs and sprint across the rooftop to a less narrow roof. “Okay, folks. I’m going to have to ask you to be as quiet as possible during this entire transaction we got going here.” You chirp with a smirk, voice carefully lowered to just below your normal speaking voice. “I don’t want my friend knowing that I’m spying on him. Heh.” As expected, none of the demons respond, opting to rush you with fireballs and incantations.

Your feet are moving before your brain catches up with the attacks, running in wide arcs and tight turns to avoid the incoming fireballs and incantation circle. “Sorry, what was that?” Your grin is feral as you push off from the rooftop in a wide swipe at the Lusachia, striking it with a shallow cut before kicking off of it in a backflip, free hand pulling out your Silver Rose to shoot it in the face a few times. “I couldn’t hear what you were saying!” As you stick the landing, you shoot it once more before raising the same hand to your ears, “You’re gonna have to speak louder!”

Of course the Lusachia can only groan as it falls, dying from the wounds you’ve inflicted upon it. Around you, the Hell Bats screech and rush, swooping down in lines of fire as you duck and dodge. “No, no! I wasn’t talking to you guys! You’re a bit too loud, so imma have to ask you to shut up!” Just as two Hell Bats swoop down to attack you from both sides, you holster the Silver Rose and Totsuka, getting into a wide stance. When the bats are close enough, you unsheathe the Totsuka in a single movement, cutting down the demons before they could even touch you.

The remaining Hell Bat screeches and flies back towards the grocery store’s roof, but you only grin and follow, Totsuka sheathed once more. “No, no! I’m gonna getcha!”

You are probably a step away from killing the bat yourself, when you notice a giant meteor suddenly appear in the sky above you. “Ah! Nope!” You are just in time to kick off the grocery store roof and flip to safety when Nightmare crashes into the grocery store, completely decimating the building. Wincing at the loss of the area’s last remaining food source, you crouch down upon the ledge of another roof and scan over the wreckage below. “…that was overkill.”

It seems… from how loudly Griffon was protesting, that it agreed with your assessment. “You’re killin’ me here, V! Didja really have to take it that far? You could’ve just-oh, I don’t even know where to begin!”

You watch as a boy and his mother walk out of the wrecked grocery store before jumping down from the rooftop, casually strolling over to where V and Griffon continued to converse. You were about to speak when V crouched down and suddenly took a bite out of a demon’s carcass.

The only thing you could do at seeing the younger man eat the demon meat was dry heave loudly.

Both V and Griffon freeze before turning their heads to look at you. “Aw shit!” Griffon curses, “It’s the Lady Sparda!”

You hold back the gag threatening to escape as you approach the two, eyes trained on the blood staining V’s mouth. There’s unfiltered horror on V’s face even as you crouch down and wipe away the blood with a handkerchief. “Raw demon meant cannot be good for you.” The horror softens when you sigh and offer V a hand, “Come on. I still have canned food in the pantry back home. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You don’t see the grief and regret upon V’s face as you turn to lead him out of the wreckage, hand in hand.

~~~~~

V’s Point of View

V’s green eyes never leave your back the entire way back to the house that Vergil had bought you all those years ago. He is exhausted from overusing his abilities, his mind muddled and unfocused. V can tell that the silence bothers you. He’s known that the silence bothers you ever since you’d both fled from this very city when you were children. Still, the past few hours have rendered him too tired to speak. So the silence continues.

Even as you fix him a meal.

Even as you sit down with him to eat.

Even as you guide him to the bathroom.

Even as you place a set of his pajamas on the counter.

Even as you leave the bathroom with a comment that you’d be in the study.

Even in his mute state, V doesn’t fail to see the melancholy in your eyes.

As he undresses, leaving his demon blood soiled clothes in the sink, V laments his current situation.

The house that he’d bought for you is still very much the same as it was over twenty years ago. Aside from the changes in products and appliances on the inside, it is as he left it. There are signs that Y/N doesn’t live in the building as often as she should… canned and dried food products in the pantry… a fridge empty except for bottled water and frozen meals… untouched kitchen appliances… a vacuum that seemed to be over ten years old… dust gathering in the unused rooms where they had planned to put a baby crib… his old clothes packed into boxes and shoved into the very same dusty rooms…

When the overly large bathtub is filled with hot water, V forces himself into the separate shower to quickly rinse off the dried blood and grime coating his skin. In the back of his mind, he recalls a memory where you told him that it was gross to sit in filth when taking a bath. The memory brings a constricting feeling to his chest and he doesn’t care that he drips water everywhere as he leaves the shower in favor of the bathtub.

The soap used in the shower is the same scent you’ve always used. The brand has changed, but it seems that you haven’t. His chest constricts some more when he realizes that you haven’t changed much since the last he saw you aside from your overuse of snark and slang. Sinking into the hot water and wrapped in your scent, V laments that the melancholy in your eyes was nothing new. When he was Vergil… a young Vergil from over twenty years ago… the last year spent with you before Temen Ni Gru… there were times where he noticed your eyes fill with melancholy. V winces, visibly in pain as he forces himself to remember. Vergil had known you were sad and lonely… but he had chosen to ignore your pain.

And even now, when he was no longer that man, V continues to hurt you.

The mortal half slips under the water before he knew it, his mind running wild with reflection.

Strange.

I feel rather peculiar.

I’m scared because I am weak.

I’ve resorted to depending on others because I am afraid.

That is what the weak do.

I’m…

…ever since I got this body, all I’ve been doing are things that I don’t want to do.

All of my thoughts are things I don’t want to think about.

(Y/N. Mother. Dante.)

While I’ve always intended on reflecting on why I lost (to Dante… to Mundus),

The reality is, I’ve moved on a long time ago.

I always thought I could fill this emptiness with power.

Anything that I lacked could be compensated with raw power.

How ironic.

It was only after I was stripped of all my strength that I realized…

That it was always within reach.

Always.

Deep inside, the answer was always there.

~~~~~

Y/N’s Point of View

“V?” You knock on the door to the master bathroom after around ten minutes, intent on taking the man’s clothes in order to wash them. “V, I need your clothes so I can put them in the wash.” When there is no answer, you knock again, “V? If you don’t answer me, I’m just gonna come in.” Your brows furrow at the lack of answer. “… Well, I warned you. I’m coming in.”

There’s a distinct lack of sound inside the bathroom when you enter although the dirty clothes are in the sink, “Um… V?” Your gaze sweeps across the large bathroom to rest upon the filled bathtub, and you frown when you notice the bubbles rising from the middle of the large tub. Creeping closer, you can see V under the water, his gaze empty and melancholic. No more bubbles rise from his lips, and you suddenly realize that V might be too tired to notice that he was drowning.

You don’t notice the wet floor, and you don’t care that the man is completely nude. Something in you beckons you forward, and you practically sprint to climb into the bathtub, taking a firm hold of his torso and lifting V’s upper half out of the water.

V’s green eyes blink blearily as he stares into yours. “V?” You whisper, letting go of his torso once he’d sat up on his own. Your hands come up to brush his dark hair out of his eyes. “Are you okay?”

The man lets out a shaky breath and ducks his head, nodding. “I appreciate the sentiment, Y/N. But I wasn’t in any danger. You didn’t have to climb in to save me.”

“You weren’t breathing, V.” You deadpanned, bringing up a hand to flick his forehead. “Nobody’s dying in my house.”

The two of you are quiet for a few moments until V turns to look away from you. “As much as I am grateful for you kindness, I don’t want to imagine what your husband would do to me if he finds out that you bathed with another man.”

You flush a deep red when you notice the position you were in… straddling a completely nude V in the bathtub while you sit in a soaked white nightgown that was becoming see through. “I… uh…”

You’re at a loss for words and continue to be at a loss for words when V turns back to stare you down with darkened eyes. He scoots you closer, pressing you against his body as he teases lowly, “Unless… I entice you…?”

You swallow hard when you notice that something hard is pressed up against you.

~~~~~~

Third Person Omniscient Point of View

“I… don’t…” The water is starting to cool in the bathtub, sending chills up your body even as you flush from head to toe. The only source of warmth is from V, who holds you close, his green eyes gazing at you with a myriad of emotions… Lust… Affection… Loneliness… Guilt… Mischief… Love… It has been over twenty years since someone has made love to you, and for all your faith and devotion, you want to feel that intense pleasure… that warm intimacy once more. You know that a demonic Vergil has run rampant across your home city, that what remains of your husband’s humanity has bonded with the man before you… You know that something within you call for V and beckons you to continue… to give in.

The moment that you pulled V out of the water, soaked from head to toe with concern in you eyes, V knew that he could continue this charade with you. He’d been cruel to you for most of your life, and he couldn’t bear to be cruel for another minute. He wants you to know him completely once more. As Vergil as well as V. What he wanted and need this entire time had been something you’d been willing to give him from the beginning, and Vergil had been a fool to cast you aside. Yet, with you pressed so close to him, your scent invading his senses, all V can think about is his love for you. A love that had never died, just stubbornly ignored. He’d neglected you for over twenty years because of his mistake. And now, if you are willing, he would make love to you until that melancholy has been chased away.

You gasp when V presses his lips to the crook of your neck, whimpering as he simply brushes his lips over your skin in light caresses. The mortal half smirks against your skin and whispers to you in a low rumble. “I’ve slacked in my duties, Y/N.” His hands trail up your bare thighs resting on either side of his hips, bunching up the material as his hands rise sensually to rest upon your waist.

“W-what are you…saying?” It would be remiss of you to not notice the same phrase that Vergil used on the day he asked you to marry him. When did your breathing become heavy?

V’s lips trail upwards along the column of your throat achingly slow as he kisses teasingly along the way. His thumb traces gentle patterns on the skin of your waist even as he lifts you from his hips to place you close to the edge of the bathtub. He’s on all fours, knelt before you with his arms propped up on either side of your head as he continues the kiss until he’s at your ear. “I’ll show you how much you mean to me, my beautiful wife.” V growls as he gently nips your ear.

Shocked, you pull away to stare at the man. “V…” you plead, voice weak from arousal and heartbreak, “Please don’t play with my heart like this.”

The dark expression softens as V leans forward to press a loving kiss to your lips before pulling back. “I’ve made so many mistakes in the past, Y/N. The greatest was leaving you in pursuit of power.” His green eyes are filled with guilt as he sighs miserably, “You were right. Power isn’t everything. And I was wrong to call you a burden all those years ago.” At the reminder, you flinch backwards, and suddenly it is no longer just guilt on V’s face, but self-loathing. “Because of me, we lost so much time. Over twenty years of sorrow and regrets, and I didn’t want this to be another regret.”

“So, you’re…”

“I am Vergil… but not quite.” V confirms, “I… made another mistake, and this is the result.”

V’s lip move to continue, but you quickly shut him up by pressing your lips firmly against his. Your arms are raised to drape over his shoulders, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss with a hungry moan. You part your lips before V can tease you, and heavy desire pools below when his tongue teases the roof of your mouth.

V’s hands find their way to the hem of your soaked nightgown, grasping the edges firmly and lifting when you separate briefly to assist him in undressing you. You hear your nightgown flop into the water as V tosses the article of clothing to the side, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You press yourself into V, hands rising to hold his face as your lips capture his once more. “Explanations can wait until tomorrow.” Your voice is thick with desire as you pull away just the slightest to leave the bathtub.

After casually slipping your soaked panties off, you turn back to V to beckon him after you. You can hear him leave the tub as you walk out of the master bathroom and into the bedroom.

(Smut Alert!!!)

You don’t make it to the bed before V catches up to you, his hand snatching yours and halting your progress forward. The air conditioning is on, and the cool breeze on your wet skin elicits a shiver through your body just as your nipples harden. Soon, your shivering is not from the cold air, but from the heat of having V’s naked body pressed into your back. His right arm moves to circle around your waist, pressing his palm flat against your pelvis while his left arm releases you in favor of cupping your left breast. You can feel him hard against the small of your back as V presses urgent kisses along your shoulder.

“Tell me, Y/N.” His voice is a husky growl between sensual kisses as his fingers tweak your nipple with a quick flick. “Did you ache for me while I was gone?” V’s right palm lowers to rest just over your mound drawing molten patterns just upwards of your clit. “Did you stay up touching yourself to thoughts of what I might do to you when I returned?”

You know your husband, and even if V wasn’t completely Vergil, the teasing was enough of a tell to know that he could play the long game. If you don’t answer. If you don’t let out the sinful sounds he’s looking for… V would refuse to continue. And after twenty plus years without, you didn’t want to wait another moment.

“Y-yes!” You moaned, body aching for more as your pussy gets wetter. “Every night that I’m alone.” The tortured whimper from your lips pleases V immensely as his hand dips lower to cup your sex, long fingers swiping just lightly before pulling away to show you just how wet you are.

“And when you thought of me during those nights, were you as soaked then as you are now?” His voice had been sinful as Vergil, but the deep airy whispers that V makes has you licking your lips in anticipation as his fingers play with your juices. V rests his chin upon your shoulder and brings his fingers up to his lips, “No, right?” You can’t reply, too entranced as he licks your juices off his fingers. “Hmmm.” He moans as you whimper, bringing his hand back down to rest exactly on your clit. “I want to taste more of you.” V growls, a finger toying with your clit while his remaining fingers dip into your slit, spreading your juices all over your lips.

Head tilted, you can only moan when V dips a long finger into your pussy before immediately pulling out. “V… please s-stop teasing me!” You beg, quivering as your hands raise to tug his arms close.

He hums and thrusts his hips into your back slightly, not enough for him to receive any pleasure from it, but enough so that you know how much harder he’s become. “Hmmm” V purrs into your ear, turning his hand so that it locks with yours, fingers intwined for just the moment, “Well, if that is what my love desires…” In a single fluid movement, he’d spun you around and gently guided you to rest upon your bed. “Then who am I to deny?”

Although sickly, you can’t help but salivate over how the black markings decorate his torso and arms. They trail in intricate patterns all over his torso and down to his pelvis, ending at… oh. Fuck. He’s longer than I expected. The part of him that stands at attention, partially curved up, draws your attention better than his beautiful green eyes and dark hair. You’re sure that V can hear how fast your heart is racing as he smirks, completely at ease as he saunters forward and crawls over you. There are whispers at the back of your mind telling you to touch him, but you only ignore them as V presses slow, open mouthed kisses along every inch of skin on his way up to your mouth.

He stops just shy of kissing your core, where an unbearable amount of heat has gathered.

He presses gentle, mournful kisses to the spot that Vergil and Urizen stabbed, his eyes briefly meeting yours with a silent plea for forgiveness.

He licks up the valley between your breasts, eyes closes as if he’s savoring the taste of your skin.

He issues a silent challenge by meeting your gaze as he pulls one of your nipples into his mouth while a hand plays with the other. You meet his gaze and stubbornly refuse to look away even as you feel his tongue flick and lap, even as the heat of his mouth becomes almost too much to bear.

When he finally makes his way to your mouth, V’s smiling, something that has always been rare even when he was Vergil. The slow kiss that follows is sweet and loving, but is interrupted as you gasp. V smirks smugly as his fingers circle your slit a few times before he presses a finger into you… then two. His green eyes watch you in adoration as he pumps his fingers in and out of your soaked pussy, taking in your moans as if it were the sweetest melody he’d ever heard.

You can’t help the moans that fall from your lips or that your legs spread to give V more space. You want more.

“V!” You whimper, even as he presses a third in. “P-please!”

He pretends he doesn’t hear you, continuing to finger fuck your pussy as his thumb plays with your swollen clit. It has been over twenty years since he’d had you beneath him. And with all the shit he’s pulled in the past, he wants you to cum at least once before he takes you.

After years without, you don’t last as long as you’d hoped. The rush of pleasure builds up faster than you expect. Your legs stiffen and your toes curl as the heat builds up to a climax, sending you over the edge of wild abandon and heavy breaths.

You come back from the haze to find V grinning triumphantly, licking your juices from his fingers once more. When scowl dangerously, V only continues to grin. It doesn’t take much more than a push to reverse your positions, but still V’s grin persists.

“Not satisfied, my love?”

“You know damn well that I’m not satisfied.” You mutter with a pout, throwing your legs over his hips so that you can press your soaked lips against his throbbing cock. Biting your lip, you stay still for a few moments as you look down at V, his dark hair sprawled upon the bed and lustful gaze staring up.

“And how would you have me repent, Y/N?” The words are out of his mouth before V realizes it.

You hum, tracing your fingers along the black lines adorning his chest before moving your hips to slid your pussy along his cock. “I want you to fuck me, V.” His body tenses when you continue to tease him, “I want you to fill me up. To make me cum so many times that I forget my name. To make me scream so loud from pleasure that fucking Urizen can hear it from his stupid demon tree.”

A growl is your only answer before V’s gaze darkens once more and you find yourself pressed into the bed, watching as V positions himself between your legs, lining himself up so that the head of his weeping cock is pressed to your opening.

“If Urizen hears the sounds of your pleasure, he might be compelled to take you as well.” He’s teasing you again.

“Urgh, V, jus-ah!” You’re interrupted when his hips snap forward, sheathing his cock to the hilt.

“I’ve never been one to share.” V gasps, holding onto your hips as he pulls away and snaps back.

All you can do is moan and move to meet his hips, lewd noises filling your quiet home as V sets a quick pace. After years of denying yourself the pleasures of the flesh, you can feel your cunt stretch around V. Already sensitive from your previous orgasm, it takes everything for you not to cum again just from being filled. Your soft moans and gasps of his name fuel V’s desire, and soon, as you cry for more, he sets a brutal pace, pounding into your pussy as your writhe beneath him.

His green eyes are wild as he pounds deep into your womb, something like determination in his eyes, “Y/N.” Your name is like a prayer upon his lips, “You asked me to fill you up.”

If it was possible, another jolt of pleasure shot through your body and straight to your core, and you found yourself tightening around him at what V was implying. “Yes.” You moan, throwing your hands up to wrap around his shoulders, “Yes, V! Fuck! I need you to cum in me!”

Unable to stop himself anymore, V let go of whatever control he had and thrust into you with wild abandon. He didn’t even know if he could impregnate you in his current state, and he knew that it was reckless to try, but fuck if he wasn’t going to try anyways. It was all you’d ever wanted with Vergil. A family. And if he could give you this, too…

God, you wanted to be filled. The thought of finally having a child leaves you wailing and on the edge of release. You could feel him throb as he abandoned rhythm, muttering ‘I love you’ as his body quaked with each thrust before abruptly stopping. The moment you feel his warmth spilling deep into you is when you finally allow yourself to fall over the edge with a wordless moan, pussy pulsing as you milk V of his release.

Coming down from the high, you find yourself entangled in V’s arms, the both of you breathing heavy as you both lay on the bed. Like all times before Vergil left, the two of you lay in silence, content with each other’s presence.

(Smut end… *fans self* as a side note, they absolutely cleaned up after an additional two rounds :P)

23rd May 09:32am

You woke up to the sounds of a struggle, bolting from the bed with light steps and snatching the Silver Rose from your nightstand. You heard something clank and clatter from within the bathroom just as you pressed yourself to the wall, gun raised as you peered into the room. What you saw in had you in a fit of laughter.

“Ahahahahaha! Oh my gosh! V!” Your finger leaves the trigger as you bend over with a laugh, , “I have a washer and dryer for a reason!”

V grumbled and flushed lightly as he wrestled his clean, but soaked pants from Griffon and Shadow. “…” The set of pajamas that you’d coaxed V into the previous night were thoroughly soaked through because he’d decided to hand wash and hand dry his only set of clothes.

“Guess we’ve been camping out too much, huh, buddy?” Griffon chirped after letting go of the black pants.

Shadow lets out a growl in warning, also letting go of the pants in favor of approaching you, rubbing its face against your side with a purred greeting. Though you raise a brow in question, you raise a hand to scratch behind the panther’s ears. “I have many questions, I’m not going to beat around the bush.”

V sighs and sets his clothes on the sink counter before walking towards to pull you into a loving embrace, “Let me change into some dry clothes, and we’ll talk over breakfast.”

His wet clothes feel cold against your nightgown, but you don’t mind, humming as you snuggle into V’s embrace.

15th June 06:00am

“Hurry up, Shakespeare! The Lady Sparda and I aren’t gonna wait for your slow ass all the time!” Griffon called back towards V from his perch on your right arm.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Griff. He’s trying his best.” You chide, turning to stare at V just as he closes the remaining few meters to stand at your side. The past month had been an ordeal, but here you were, about to meet up with your son to end this mess. Turning to V, you playfully nudge him, “Let’s go, V.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I will definitely be writing more about Reader’s time with V as chapters of Visions of V release.

As always, thank you so much for reading!

PS.  Hi, yes, Tumblr. Please don’t eat up my chapter again.（╹◡╹）THanks

[confused-stars]

what's the book/romance op

i'm so glad you asked

so i've been obsessed with these books since the first one came out

it's the Simon Snow trilogy by Rainbow Rowell (Carry On, Wayward Son and Any Way The Wind Blows)

it's about a British boy who was told at eleven years old that he was the Chosen One, destined to save the World of Mages, and he was sent to a magic school where he was magically assigned a roommate (oh my god, they were roommates) who came from an old family and was destined to be his nemesis (and is also a vampire). Simon also has an extremely capable best friend and a lesbian goat aunt (quoting the wiki here) and is dating the most beautiful girl in school and they're supposed to be, like, endgame, and have a bunch of perfect children together

yes, this totally sounds like a book series i will not name on this blog, except that this is all the backstory and setup, and the books themselves totally deconstruct all those tropes. it deals a lot with them all trying to find their own paths. like, why should they be enemies just because a bunch of adults and their politics tell them to? and there's a lot of Simon confronting what happens to you when you've been fighting all your childhood and were never able to catch a breath and then suddenly you can breathe freely and it feels like there's too much air-

these books also depict depression in the most accurate way i've ever seen. and the beautiful, perfect girlfriend Simon had just decides "fuck that, i don't wanna be part of this magical destiny and always get kidnapped so my boyfriend can save me" and she starts making her own way

also the magic system? you cast with words that are given power by how many people use them on a daily basis. so, like, idioms and common turns of phrase. nursery rhymes are insanely powerful. there's a moment where they're in America and they try to cast "Bugger Off!" but it doesn't work because Americans don't say that. "Fuck Off!" however, works wonders. there's spells like "Have a Break, Have a Kit-Kat" (breaks objects) and "Out, Out, damned spot" (cleans things) i could legit talk about this magic system for days it's so cool (a student once brought a whole classroom wall down by casting "Yeet!" and when i read that i had to take a whole five minutes)

there's also a magical creature called a lllama and that's very important to me

but anyway. the romance though. because the thing is. Simon and Baz lived together and were supposed to be enemies for seven years. Baz played mean pranks and Simon was convinced Baz was pure evil. except that (tiny spoiler) Baz is actually a Soft Boy and he doesn't really care about this whole war between the old families and the new magic regime or whatever.

so they obviously end up getting together, but then it's all about their respective trauma (mostly Simon's) and how they try to figure out who they are as their own people and how they fit together. it's so much about trying, and how hard it can be, and holding onto each other. they love each other so much and the struggles they go to are so real, and all the magic stuff around them is really just a framework for that.

everything always feels kind of melancholic, like they're always searching for purpose in their own narratives, but that's what makes the emotional scenes cathartic as hell

and because this wasn't long and rambly enough, have some quotes because i haven't even mentioned how well written and funny this is:

- Even some of our cookbooks are banned. (Though it’s been centuries, at least, since the Pitches ate fairies.) (You can’t even find fairies anymore.) (And it’s not because we ate them all.)

- "If you can't be gay at IKEA," Snow reasoned, "where can you?"

- At the moment, Simon was sitting across from me, eating toast. There was melted butter running down his wrist. I held out a napkin. "He can still have a drink," I said. Simon took the napkin, then licked the butter off his arm.

- I would eat butter with a spoon if it were socially acceptable.

- “Nobody’s seducing a vampire,” I say. Baz frowns at me.

- "Imagine the humiliation of dying at The Cheesecake Factory."

- He's not a monster. He's just a villain. He's not a villain. He's just a boy. I'm kissing a boy. I'm kissing Baz.

tl;dr: please do yourself a favor and read these books i promise you won't regret a second of it

[gilbertsannegirl]

The Scientist

Merry Christmas to @rootedbutfl0wing! Sorry it’s a couple of days late, but I really hope you do enjoy it! Hope your Christmas was wonderful, and it was a lot of fun getting to know you a little bit :) And thank you @kindredspiritssecretsanta (@royalcordelia) for once again hosting this wonderful event! Once again, cannot wait till next year x

Read it on AO3 / fanfiction.net

2019 Fic

2018 Fic

Summary: Based on The Scientist by Coldplay, which I thought kind of fitted Anne and Gilbert a lot (have a listen if you’ve never heard it before! It’s a beautiful song). Major moments of their relationship from Gilbert’s point of view, along with missing scenes and an AU ending, definitely enemies to friends to lovers. Hope you enjoy!

Come up to meet you; Tell you I’m sorry; You don’t know how lovely you are

 Red. He saw it, red hair. Never was there another colour like it. Gilbert slowly turned in his seat to see a scraggly, freckled girl seated next to Diana Barry. Who was this girl? The sun glinted steadily through the window onto that hair that had drawn his eye in the first place. Why it’s as red as carrots, he thought, continuing to do nothing but stare at the girl who he had never seen in his life. She glanced his way, to which he winked at her, smiling smugly that she’d looked.

After a muttered word to Diana, the girl gazed out the window and, at least what Gilbert began to believe, blatantly ignored him. Feeling the need to see those grey-green eyes look his way once more, he began to rack his brain for ideas. Carrots…

“Carrots,” he hissed softly while tugging gently on the red hair he’d already grown so fond of, “Carrots.”

She whirled around in horror, her eyes flashing a delicious shade of green. “How dare you!” she screamed, and the next Gilbert knew was she’d gone and smashed something over his head. Was that a slate? Either way he found himself apologising profusely to Mr. Phillips who’d rushed to the scene.

Ann Shirley has a very bad temper. Ann Shirley must learn to control her temper. * Was written on the board, and the girl grimly marched to the board placing an ‘e’ at the end of each Ann. Anne Shirley. What a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. Anne stood seething under that sign for the rest of the afternoon, glaring every now and then at the boy who started it all.

At the end of the day Gilbert waited behind for Anne to leave after her lecture from Mr. Phillips. Intercepting her at the door, he glanced into her eyes, “I'm awfully sorry I made fun of your hair, Anne," he whispered contritely. "Honest I am. Don't be mad for keeps, now." *

The lovely girl with the golden, red hair snubbed her nose, and marched away with Diana at her side. Despite this, he grinned dumbly. She’s simply lovely, he thought his eyes following her down the road as she made her way towards what he assumed to be her home.

 I had to find you; Tell you I need you; Tell you I set you apart

 With the mayflowers in hand, Gilbert set off towards Patty’s Place, smiling sweetly at what could come of this particular visit. He found Anne in the orchard her head buried in a book, and he smiled slightly at her usual Anne-ness.

Handing her the Mayflowers, he carefully told her of his plans for the summer: staying in Kingsport to work at the Daily News Office. Gilbert watched as her face fell, hoping this was as good of time as any to ask her the question he had yearning in the back of his mind ever since that fateful day he called her carrots. She quickly composed herself however, and before she could make any more excuse to leave to pick violets, he said, “Things can't go on like this any longer. Anne, I love you. You know I do. I - I can't tell you how much. Will you promise me that someday you'll be my wife?” **

Anne quickly turned away shaking her head. Gil’s face fell immediately. Perhaps he was deceiving himself all along. Had she really never loved him? What about at Echo Lodge? Surely there was something in her eyes then. She begged for his forgiveness, and he gently, in person and heart, let go of her hand.

“There isn't anything to forgive. There have been times when I thought you did care. I've deceived myself, that's all. Goodbye, Anne.” ** And as he walked away that day, malice entered his heart. He must never think of Anne Shirley again.

 Tell me your secrets; And ask me your questions; Oh, let’s go back to the start

 Gilbert sat, his work sprawled across his desk as he ran his hands carefully through his curls. Biting his lip, he thought carefully about what was bothering him so. It has been a year, a year to the dot. His eyes glistened with tears once more as he remembered the terrified look on Anne’s face as he told her of his love for her. Oh, how he regretted it now. Shaking his head, he recalled their beautiful friendship, dwelling on the secrets that she had lovingly entrusted him with.

“Gil,” Anne said, a little melancholic after a particularly deep conversation between the two of them, “Could I tell you something? Something I’ve never told anyone else?”

He looked at her curiously, “Not even to Marilla or Diana?” At the shake of her head, he swallowed carefully, “You know you can tell me anything.”

“Well, I never really thought of it till now. Do you really think anyone could love me? I mean romantically? I’m afraid that I’ve not grown up surrounded by love that I don’t know what I’m looking for. Marilla and Diana, they think me foolish with my fantastic ideals of love. But when I was about 5 or 6, I was living with a family who’d hired me as a work hand – to look after the children, you see. I remember their eldest son was much older than their youngest children. He was about 15 or 16. He wrote poetry and was melancholic. He was the only one in that household that ever paid any attention to me and snuck me food when no one was looking. I didn’t love him romantically of course, I was only 6, but I feel that’s where this all sprouted from in the end. Don’t you think it’s strange that these memories come back to us so many years later?”

Gilbert had stopped their walking a while back. He looked deep into her eyes and whispered, “Anne…”

Anne cleared her throat at the intimacy in his voice, and Gilbert immediately thought himself an idiot for letting such intimacy come about in this private moment, “Um, I should… go. I’ll see you later Gilbert.”

Thinking back to this moment now, just a few weeks before they went to Redmond, he knew how idiotic it was to ask for her hand. He wasn’t the brooding hero she had longed for her whole life – he was plain old Gilbert Blythe, ex-best friend of the most remarkable woman to walk the earth. Yes, she was…

 Nobody said it was easy; It’s such a shame for us to part; Nobody said it was easy; No one ever said it would be this hard; Oh, take me back to the start

 Gilbert saw the radiant girl – no, woman – waltz into the newly decorated hall on the arm of Royal Gardner. Her figure was dressed in an apple green with a low scooped neckline, and her ruddy tresses were laced with small snowdrops. She’s simply beyond beautiful tonight, and you can’t have her. He sighed, lacing his fingers with his ruddy curls, and pacing near the wide window that showed the snow covered land. His best friend – ex-best friend, he scoffed – was on the arm of another man and if the whispering around him was true, she would continue to be on his arm forever.

He felt a gentle tap on his shoulder, and he swung around to see Christine Stuart with a small smile gracing her lips. “Gilbert, are you ready for our dance? The band is set up now.” In the short while of pacing, the room had come to life. Women and men dressed to the nines, chatter erupting and creating an atmosphere of warmth. He nodded and grabbed her hand, placing it in the crook of his arm as they meandered to the dance floor.

They twirled and swayed slowly to the tune that was being softly played. Violins, piano, and flutes all filling his head with sweet song. Not as sweet as Anne, the thought rudely interrupted. He shook his head, gracing a glance at the couple dancing not two feet away from him and his partner. And I guess that is the man who will sit and read her Tennyson by firelight. Yes, but you would do that for her too…

“Gilbert, is everything alright?” He quickly looked up and then down, realising that he had stopped their slow dance and there were people hurrying to avoid crashing into them. “You’re awfully pale. Did you want to sit down for a spell, or perhaps get some air?”

“Um, yes please. I just need to be alone for a little while. Will you be alright? I’ll be back by the next dance.” Christine opened her mouth, but Gilbert had already started walking away continuing his pedantic running of fingers through his hair. Oh, why did you ask her to marry you anyway. You ruined everything; she could still be on your arm as a friend – best friend – not on the arm of that Royal guy. He gasped in the cold air and his hardened heart frosted over as the rivers seeped from his eyes.

 I was just guessing at numbers and figures; Pulling your puzzles apart; Questions of science, science, and progress; Do not speak as loud as my heart

 Every day Gilbert placed one foot in front of the other to pull himself out of bed, through the door and into the gates of Redmond to face his studies, and it was paying off. Another year without Anne; another year of topping every class. It was the easiest distraction from the rushing thoughts and escorting Christine around to various social gatherings. Pouring into schoolwork was always something he had enjoyed, but especially now when it was the only thing in his life that he could fully control. Especially when flashes of red hair and green eyes invaded his dreams every night. Especially when he couldn’t have her.

 Tell me you love me; Come back and haunt me; Oh, and I rush to the start; Running in circles, chasing our tails; Coming back as we are

 It hadn’t been so long ago that they were walking through Hester Gray’s garden – she was picking flowers and he was desperately trying to see more in their friendship. Days often turned to dusk while they were together. And oh, they could talk, or rather Anne could. In every memory he had of her, there were glimpses of moments that he had misconstrued as love. Fleeting touches – of course they were by accident – meaningful glances – Miss Lavender’s wedding, I think she did love me then, perhaps for a moment.

Anne was still very much on the arm of Royal Gardner at every social gathering, while Christine Stuart was on his own arm. The distractions of schoolwork and being up for the Cooper prevented Gilbert from taking in much of the gossip that surrounded the couples. In the back of his mind, he knew what they were saying. Gilbert to wed Christine and Royal to wed Anne. He knew the gossip around his love life was not true, Christine was engaged to another man and he didn’t think of her in that way. But Anne… All of those rumours could very well be true. Where would that leave him?

“Gilbert!” No… it couldn’t be her. “Gil!” And just like that her red hair was staring him in the face.

“Anne?”

“Yes, of course. Gilbert, I just wanted to congratulate you. It seems we are both on the honours list, I’ve just come from the dean’s office. Here,” she shoved a piece of paper into his hands, “see for yourself. It’s all so exciting!”

And in that moment Gilbert allowed himself back to those friendship days of Lover’s Lane, the Dryad’s Bubble, the Lake of Shining Waters, and imagined what it would be like to be with her in those places now. She continued to chatter but stopped when he suddenly gathered her into his arms. “Thank you, Carrots.” And he walked away, leaving her mouth wide open and a few tears gathered on her eyelashes.

 Nobody said it was easy; Oh, it’s such a shame for us to part; Nobody said it was easy; No one ever said it would be so hard; I’m going back to the start

 That moment of the honours list sustained him for some time. She was radiant at convocation in her dress with his flowers. His promise to her all those years ago. If we make it to graduation I’m sending you a bunch of Lilies of the Valley. The Cooper’s Prize was his and Anne had made the honour’s list for English. Well, of course. In the times that he has known her she has been the storyteller, and so honours in English was never a negotiable thing.

The dance began and through the crowd he could see her. She was once again in a shroud of pale green taffeta, his flowers laced through her hair. Everything slowed as they made eye contact with one another. He stumbled towards her, dropping Christine from his arm. As if in a daze, he made his way through the ballroom. But then he saw the haze of her eyes, and the shock in her face as she turned towards the entry of the room. She began to run out into the cool of the early summer night.

In that moment Gilbert knew exactly what he was doing, and yet his knees never stopped knocking, his hands never left his curls. He was going after her. And this time nothing was going to stop him. In the craze of the ballroom, he flung himself around dancing couples and out the door. In the moonlight he saw the pale skin of her throat accentuated by the curls let loose down her back.

“Anne!” She stopped her dazed walk but did not turn to face him. He quickly caught up to her and placed both hands on her cold shoulders. “Anne-girl, what’s wrong?”

“You did it again.” She murmured, which he barely caught through the howling wind.

“What?”

“You call me Anne-girl, you send me gifts, flowers, you never break your promises. And yet you look at me in the same way you always have, even after I broke your heart. Gil? How can you still look at me that way? I’ve never deserved it Gil… I’ve never…” It broke his heart more to have this precious girl crying in his arms over unspoken words, glances, and touches. But he did speak his heart over two years ago in that orchard. Could it be that she’s changed her mind? “And now, you’re going to marry Christine and it’s all my fault that I never understood… I never understood…”

“Anne-girl,” he said in reverence, “is that what this is about?” She pulled her head off his chest to look into his kind, hazel eyes, and he reached up to wipe away her tears. “I’m not engaged to marry Christine. It’s all silly rumours, one’s which I never paid much attention to anyway. You see… I have a dream. I persist in dreaming it, although it has often seemed to me that it could never come true. I dream of a home with a hearth-fire in it , a cat and dog, the footsteps of friends – and you!” ***

And there was once again that moment in which Anne looked at him like he thought he must look at her and he knew there was no separating them again.

 *Anne of Green Gables Chapter XV

**Anne of the Island Chapter XX

***Anne of the Island Chapter XLI

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Book One: Gold (Prompto x Reader) Chapter XVII

The following day, the royal retinue and guardian left Lestallum. With Gladio now back with them and the mythril refined, they were ready to head back to Cape Caem. It was a two-hour drive and once they arrived, they headed straight for the lighthouse. As they were about to step into the elevator, a dog with black and white fur ran up to Noctis. The boy kneels down, patting the canine's head. He then checks the notebook it's carrying.

While Noctis read Lunafreya's message, the golden-eyed dog trotted over to (Y/n). The spirit glanced down at the animal, wondering what it wanted when it barked at her. Squatting down, she held out her hand. The canine licked her hand, then nuzzled its nose against her palm.

"Hey, Umbra likes you!" Prompto stated excitedly.

"Umbra?" The girl reiterated.

"That's his name. He's a divine messenger of the Astrals." Prompto kneeled beside her and petted the top of Umbra's head. He abruptly stopped his ministrations when a thought crossed his mind. "Wait, wouldn't you be considered a divine messenger too? Y'know, since you can talk to an Astral?"

"Doubtful," she scoffed. "I'm not a divine being like Umbra. All I am is a vessel."

"Still, it's pretty cool."

After Noctis writes his reply in the book, Umbra moves away from (Y/n) and Prompto. He sits and waits patiently for the raven-haired boy to put the book back in the bag. With the book now back in his possession, the canine takes off. Everyone then boards the lighthouse elevator and rides it down to a basement area in a seaside cave. There, they find the hidden harbor and a makeshift living room area. The boat they'd be using to cross the ocean was docked nearby. Talcott, Iris, Cid and Cor appeared to have been waiting for them.

The little boy stepped forward with an excited gleam in his eyes. "Look, Prince Noctis! Even the marshal came to say goodbye!"

When the group reached the bottom of the stairs, Cor spoke up. "Something I gotta get off my chest."

Noctis met the marshal's somewhat melancholic gaze. "What's that?"

"I'm sorry. Sorry I wasn't there for your father. I swore an oath to protect the king, but I wasn't strong enough to uphold it." Cor lowered his head in shame.

Cid, who'd been silent until now, spoke up. "Ain't nothin' nobody could've done to stop what happened."

Noctis was quiet for a second before responding. "Yeah, I realize that."

"But you need to realize just what you mean to the boys by your side."

"I do."

"Even if they can't solve your problems, you can't hide what's goin' on from 'em. It hurts like hell. Remember—those ain't your bodyguards, they're your brothers. Trust in 'em. Always."

As Noctis glanced at his three closest friends, Cor finally took notice of the (h/c)-haired girl standing behind Prompto. He saw her slitted eyes and the golden gemstone embedded in her upper right arm. After recognizing her as a spirit, he approached her. "You..."

(Y/n) met the marshal's gaze. She felt a somewhat familiar sensation when staring into his eyes. The moment she went to speak, Prompto beat her to it. "Is there a problem, marshal?"

Cor's gaze never left the guardian. "May I speak in private with her, Prompto?"

"Um..." The blonde glanced over at the girl. "I...don't see why not."

"Then let's head topside."

(Y/n) followed Cor up the stairs and into the elevator. They rode it back to the top and stepped off. He leaned against the wall of the lighthouse, eyes still focused on the guardian. "It's been a while since I've met a spirit."

"You're familiar with my kind?" She asked. The marshal slipped one of his hands into his pocket and pulled out a necklace. The jewel adorning it was black, cracked, and had a silver phoenix wrapped around it. The guardian easily recognized the gem. "Marshal, you...?"

"I once had a guardian. Viola was my entire world until the empire killed her. Her death was entirely my fault." Cor gripped the necklace tightly. "Before I became a full-fledged member of the Crownsguard, I was nothing but a punk. During my training, I was sent on a mission outside the city. Damn imperials swooped in out of nowhere and ambushed my squadron. She protected me and lost her life in the process. I truly never knew pain until I lost her."

(Y/n) hung her head with a sorrowful frown. "I'm sorry for your loss, marshal."

"Even though it was over 20 years ago, the pain has never faded."

"Was Viola the one to tell you about the conduit?"

"Yeah. She learned about it from an elder guardian and told me about it during our final mission together." The marshal put the necklace back into his pocket. "So tell me, are you the conduit she spoke of?"

"I am. I only learned the truth after leaving the city and encountering the Archaean," she stated.

"Then our gamble paid off."

(Y/n) blinked in bewilderment. "What gamble?"

"The Crownsguard was aware of your presence within the city. You were only four years old when you and a baby were brought to Insomnia by one of our spies. We've kept tabs on you and the child in secret to ensure you weren't a threat to Lucis. Turns out, neither of you are." Cor analyzes the girl's face, but was slightly taken aback when her expression mellowed out. "You're not surprised by this news?"

"I'd be lying if I said I was," she confessed. "I never knew how I got to Insomnia, but I was aware of who I truly was. Verstael Besithia is my true master, not Prompto. I'm not the real (Y/n), I'm just a reproduction."

"So your memories of your creation are intact," Cor muttered. "Remember anything else?"

"Of course I do," she sneered. "That bastard is the one who killed the real (Y/n). I was made to replace her after she betrayed him. He thought making a perfect replica would erase the memories of the past, but he was wrong. I remembered everything when I turned 12."

Cor was thoroughly intrigued by the revelation. "Why did the real (Y/n) betray him?"

"His mind became corrupt and she no longer wanted to support his twisted experiments. She was set on leaving and sharing his secrets with Lucis, but he killed her before she could." She turned her back to the marshal. "I'm but a mere imitation of her with her memories. I'm a false guardian. Why the hell would Brahma choose me to be his vessel?"

"You might be a copy, but you're still a guardian nonetheless. If an Astral deems you worthy to wield his power, don't question it." Cor took a few steps back towards the elevator. "I've kept you long enough. You need to be on that boat with His Majesty."

(Y/n) stopped him before he could call the lift. "Wait, I want to ask you one last question. How'd you know who I was?"

A smirk appeared on the marshal's face. "You threw a fireball at me when you were five. Guess you don't remember."

"That was you?" She gasped. "So this isn't our first meeting."

"I was impressed by your power for a guardian your age. I'm the one who told His Majesty to keep you and Prompto together. We gave the bracelet to him once he was taken in by a family."

She rubbed her arm with a smile. "And I'm grateful you did."

"You kept your presence hidden well from the family. I'm surprised."

"Yeah, well, I was slumbering in the gemstone until Prompto turned five. How would I explain my situation to his adoptive family in a way they would understand?"

"You got me there." Cor summoned the elevator. When it arrived, they both rode it back down to the hidden dock. When the two stepped off the lift, they saw the boys and Cid were already aboard the boat. Seeing they were waiting for (Y/n), she said farewell to the marshal before quickly making her way to the boat. She climbed aboard just as the vessel came to life.

As the boat pulls away from the dock, Talcott suddenly shouts out to Noctis. "Hey! Your Majesty!"

"What's up?" Noctis replied.

"Please come back soon! We need our king!"

He nodded with a faint smile. "Yeah. Count on it."

Talcott and Iris wave goodbye and Noctis waves back. The boat leaves Cape Caem and soon enters open waters. (Y/n) stood near the stern of the boat. While the boys chatted, she leaned against the metal railing and stared across the glistening sea. Her (h/c) locks blew through the salty breeze, washing away the weariness in her body. She sighed contently and closed her eyes for a few seconds before reopening them.

Spotting a multi-colored reflection on the surface of the ocean, the guardian's eyes traveled up to the sky. There, she saw the Celestial Crescent glowing radiantly with an array of beautiful colors. Her blissful smile fell as she recalled her conversation with Cor. Curious, she spoke to the god of creation. "Can you hear me, Brahma?"

Yes, Child. I am always with you.

"You said I have a pure heart and hold no ill-will, but I'm a fake. How can a replica be a pure spirit?" She inquired.

You are no mere replica. You are a pure Child of Pneuma regardless of your fabricated body. No other spirit has proven themselves to be as pure as you. Cast your doubts aside for they will only cloud your mind.

She hung her head with a heavy sigh. "I understand, but that still doesn't mean I'm okay being a fake. The real (Y/n) died years ago."

Believe in yourself. That is all you can do. Whether you are a replica or not, you must see your worth. You are the inheritor of my power and none shall take your place. Hold your head high and walk tall, Child of Pneuma.

The god was right. She needed to stop calling herself a replica and believe she was her own individual. Her powers and experiences were her own and no one could ever tell her otherwise. The belief she had in herself that she extinguished was burning brighter than ever. She smiled up at the sky. "Thank you, Brahma." Pushing herself off the railing, she walked towards the plush bench Noctis, Prompto, and Ignis were sitting on.

"Nice of you to join us, short stuff," Gladio commented as she came to a stop in front of the bench.

"Sorry, had to clear my head," she said.

"You've been doing that a lot lately. Gil for your thoughts?"

"I'd rather not talk about it. It's more of an inner turmoil that I need to deal with myself."

Prompto was too curious and pried further. "Does it have to do with what the marshal said to you?"

She shook her head. "Not really, no."

"What did you two talk about, anyway?" Noctis inquired.

"He told me about Viola, his guardian. He lost her over 20 years ago. She's the reason why he knew about the conduit. That's...all we talked about." It wasn't the whole truth, but only a portion of it. The rest of the conversation she had with Cor would remain between her and him until she was ready to spill her darkest secret.

"The marshal had a guardian...?" Prompto gasped.

"He still carries around the necklace with her gemstone."

"He must've truly cherished her," Ignis commented.

Unconsciously, the marksman fiddled with the bracelet containing (Y/n)'s gemstone. "Yeah..."

Everyone fell silent. They enjoyed the sea breeze for a while until Cid sparked a conversation with Noctis. "So, soon you'll have yer old man's ring back."

Noctis nodded slightly. "Yeah. When we arrive in Altissia."

"Good thing. To him, it was his heritage."

"Is that what my dad said?" The raven-haired boy asked.

"Carrying a royal line ain't a task to be taken lightly," Cid explained. "For a small thing, that ring can sure weigh heavy. After he became king, I only ever saw his face in the paper."

"Wait—weren't you at the coronation?" Gladio questioned, interjecting into the conversation.

"Nah, I was long gone from the city."

"Must've been invited at least," Noctis commented.

"Had a fallin' out o' sorts with your old man. Right at the end of the trip," the old man said.

Prompto was taken aback at the revelation. "You did?"

Ignis then spoke up. "I was given to understand you stayed in touch."

"We buried the hatchet years later, but never talked face to face again. Shoulda paid a visit while I had the chance," Cid sighed sorrowfully. "Well, no use dwellin' on it now. Got the Regalia in the hold, but y'all gonna stay in Altissia for a good while, right?"

"Yes, we believe so."

"In that case, I'll tune her up for y'all. Not that I'll have much to do, though, what with Cindy lookin' after the old girl."

"If you say she's good, she must be great," Prompto said.

"She was never afraid o' hard work. Heaven knows she had a hard childhood."

""A hard childhood"?"

"He means her parents," Gladio clarified.

"Lost 'em both when she was little. Was big enough to understand, though...an' to hurt. But ya wouldn't guess that, seein' her now," Cid stated.

"Not at all. She's always so cheerful," Prompto said.

"Well, that oughta tell ya how far she's come."

(Y/n) decided to remain silent and listen to the conversation. She clasped her hands together behind her back, admiring Cindy from just how Cid talked about her.

After the conversation about Cindy died down, Gladio changed the subject. "Man, you must have seen your fair share of Altissia by now."

"Yeah... Only done been the once. Stayed a good while, though," Cid said.

Prompto leant forward, curiosity written all over his face. "What's it like?"

"Big ol' city."

""Big." Okay." Noctis was expecting more than just the word "big" and was clearly unamused.

"Well, it ain't the Crown City," Cid stated.

""Different." Got it."

"You'll see for yourself: foreign lands seldom lend themselves to trite explanations," the strategist claimed.

"Change o' scenery oughta do you good," Cid added.

Gladio huffed out a sigh. "Well, I'm all talked out. Can't be far to Altissia now, right?"

"We'll be there in no time. Nice having the wind at our backs."

"What should we do first when we arrive?" (Y/n) asked, glancing around at the boys.

"Lodging is our first order of business," Ignis answered.

Prompto sighed. "All work and no play..."

"Makes Ignis a dull boy," Noctis said, finishing his best friend's sentence.

"Someone has to babysit you two," Gladio stated. "Well, Noct still needs a babysitter. Prompto's already got one." His amber eyes landed on (Y/n).

The blonde went to retort, but then an idea came to mind. "You and Iggy can babysit Noct. I'm taking my special lady on a date!"

"It's not a date if she has to babysit your ass."

Prompto pursed his lips. "Hmph, you're just jealous I've got a beautiful goddess to walk around with."

"We're not good enough for you?" Noctis asked.

"I don't wanna walk around a city with a romantic atmosphere with three guys," the blonde groaned.

Gladio walked over and smacked (Y/n) on the back. "Good luck with this one, short stuff."

"I think a date would be nice," she confessed.

Prompto flew to his feet, pumping his fist into the air. "All right! This is gonna be so much fun!"

Once the blonde calmed down and sat back down on the cushy bench, Cid spoke up and mentioned he knew someone by the name of Weskham who runs a place by the name of Maagho. The group made note to visit the place after securing lodging.

A few minutes later, they enter Altissia waterways. The boat's radio came to life as a newscaster began broadcasting. "The government issued a statement promising that the reasons behind awakening the Hydraean would be clarified in the ceremonial address."

"Got a signal!" Prompto cheered.

"Delivering the address will be Lady Lunafreya, who was previously reported dead. This will mark her first public appearance since the violence that befell the signing ceremony."

"Lady Lunafreya's gonna give a speech?"

"Sounds like it," Gladio said.

"Lord knows—this world could use some wisdom," Cid sighed.

Ignis looked over at the raven-haired boy. "Won't be much longer now, Noct."

Noctis nodded. "Yeah."

Eventually, the boat pulls up to a guard who stands along the waterway. He asked the old man, "Does this vessel have an entry permit?"

Prompto was beginning to worry. "Uh, entry permit?"

"Relax. I got one." Cid holds up the entry permit the guard was asking for. "Here."

The Altissian guard examined the permit and nodded. "That's as old as they get. Seems in order. You may pass."

Cid drives the boat on ahead. Ignis eyed the old man and asked, "Prepared in advance?"

"You could say that. Thirty-odd years ago," Cid said.

"That's what the guy meant by "old"," Gladio remarked.

"Lucky us, eh?"

"That could've ended badly," Noctis commented.

"We could've always done some persuasion if it did," (Y/n) stated.

The prince met the girl's golden gaze. "You talking about bribery?"

"Something like that."

"Dude, that'd be sick!" Prompto chuckled. "Bribing our way into Altissia would totally be an amazing story to tell the others."

"I'm afraid we lack the funds for such a heinous act," Ignis said.

"Aw..." He hung his head with a dramatic sigh.

Cid slowly brings the boat into the docks. Everyone makes their way off the sea vessel and towards the city. Noctis walks up to a queue where some gatekeepers await. He was immediately stopped by one. "Sir! What is the purpose of your visit?"

"Purpose? Uh..." Noctis immediately looked at his advisor. "Ignis, a little help."

Ignis stepped forward and came up with the perfect excuse for them to enter the city. "We are scholars of the culinary arts, and we've come to study the renowned cuisine of your fair nation."

The gatekeeper believed the strategist. "Is that so? I wish you an enlightening stay."

The bespectacled man adjusted his glasses, turning to face Noctis. "Another one you owe me."

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Masterlist

[sweetmemories2606]

Gruvia Day 2020: Perfect Beginning

Morning, everyone!

Let us all celebrate the glory of today. A day which does not happen often, but is so special and beautiful.

I'm talking about Gruvia Day, of course. It is time to shower our ship with love and perhaps a little angst too.

Here's the info about the story: 

Title: Perfect Beginning 

Summary: Gray and Juvia's first date went perfectly, reminding her of a time when she had thought that a romance like this only existed in books. Finding herself happier than she had been in a long time, she wondered if perhaps their story could have a happy ending after all. 

Word Count: 2K

Genre: Fluff and (minor) Angst

Warnings: This one-shot is set on Ch 4 of Answers, thus I'd advise you to read at least the 1st chapter because there are MAJOR SPOILERS for the story.

Happy reading!

                                    __________________

                                    Perfect Beginning

                                        July 5th, X791

"This place is beautiful" Juvia looked around the field of sunflowers with a serene smile. They were just outside of Crocus, though this place was so quiet it felt like the city was far away.

“I’m glad you like it.” Gray watched her with a soft smile while he set the flowery blanket on the grass then put the basket filled with sweets which Mira had prepared on top of it.

After they had decided to get together the day before, he had asked her on a date to which she had enthusiastically agreed. Panicking because he had no idea what to do, Gray had come to Erza and Mirajane for help in the planning. 

Listening to their ideas, he hadn't been so sure until Alzack and Bisca, who had been listening to them, suggested that Gray take Juvia on a picnic. The couple noted how this is what they had done for their first date. Judging by how they were now happily married with a daughter, Gray sensed it was a good idea.

"So, who gave you the idea for a picnic?" Juvia asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. 

He raised a brow. "You don't believe I came up with this myself?"

She chuckled and shook her head. "Nope. I know you're not much of a romantic." 

He feigned disbelief and hurt. "Hey, I can be very romantic." Standing up and closing the distance between them, he snaked his arms around her waist. 

"Oh, yeah?" Juvia asked while her arms encircled his neck. They leaned in for a passionate kiss, then another. 

Everything felt so perfect, like a fairy tale. Juvia remembered a time when she had wondered if a romance like this existed outside of books.  

                                 __________________

                                    Many years ago….

"What are still you doing up, child?" Irene came into her room for the daily check up. Instead of being asleep like she was supposed to, Juvia had been reading a book. Immersed in the experience, she hadn't heard the older woman until now. 

"Sorry, Irene," The young girl whispered, putting the book on her bedside table. "I'll go to sleep now."

The Scarlet Queen glanced at the object, focusing on the title, before frowning. "Beauty and the Beast again? Aren't you tired of reading this one?"

Juvia shrugged. "It's my favourite." 

Curious, the older woman sat on the red chair beside the bed. "Why is that?" 

"Well…." The young girl was thoughtful for a moment. "Belle loves reading, just like me." 

"That is true," Irene smiled softly. "But what else?"

"I like that Beast lets her go even though he knows that she could break the curse." Juvia noted once a similar smile adorned her face. "It's like my mamma used to say, true love means putting someone else first."

The former suddenly seemed nostalgic and melancholic. "She was right." 

"Are you okay?" The latter was concerned.

"I'm alright," Reassured the older woman, but her sniffle betrayed this statement. 

Silence fell upon them as Irene was lost in thought and Juvia watched her curiously. Once she felt enough time had passed, the young girl posed a rather complicated but not surprising question. "Irene…do you believe that true love exists?"

It took the Scarlet Queen a while to respond. "I do."

Thoughtful again, Juvia followed up with "Then how do I find it?"

Irene shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know, child." Setting the book back on the bedside table, she stood and approached the bed. 

Glancing at the now frowning child, she offered a reassuring smile. "But I'm sure you will find it someday." 

Juvia's frown gave way to a hopeful look. "You are?" 

"I am," Irene nodded before leaning down to press a gentle kiss atop the girl's forehead. Then the older woman urged her to lie down against the pillow and placed the blanket over her. 

Once the child was comfortably settled, Irene stepped back and glanced at her softly. "Your parents..." Juvia's sleepy eyes immediately became alert. "What they had was true love, so I'm sure that you can have it too." 

                                   __________________

Thinking about her parents, Juvia pulled away from the kiss. Noticing her sadness, Gray immediately became concerned. "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine," She reassured, but the tears that began falling suggested otherwise. He wiped them away gently, keeping one arm around her, holding her close.

Grateful for his support, she tried to compose herself in order not to ruin their date. This wasn't the time to think about her parents or how much she missed them. This was a day for her and Gray to enjoy themselves and explore the new direction which their relationship was taking.

Taking deep breaths, Juvia soon managed to stop crying and offered an apology. "I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologise," He assured while wiping away the last remaining tears. "I understand." 

"Thank you," Able to smile again, she briefly glanced at the picnic basket then back at him. "Now, how about we really begin our date?"

Gray watched her for a moment. "Are you sure? Because if you want to talk about..."

Juvia shook her head. "Not now." Noticing his uncertain expression, she put on a brighter smile. "Right now..." She took his hand. "...I would like to enjoy the wonderful picnic that my boyfriend so kindly prepared."

He nodded. "Okay, then." After squeezing her hand, he led her to sit down on the blanket before grabbing the picnic basket. "You know, it feels weird to hear you call me your boyfriend." 

"Yeah, it does." Juvia agreed. Despite having fantasised for so long that they would get together, the term 'boyfriend' felt out of place.

There was a moment of silence while he took out the strawberry cake and cut up two large pieces. Accepting the plate he had offered, she added. "I won't do it again." 

Unexpectedly, Gray smiled. "Nah, it's okay. I guess I just need more time to get used to it, that's all." 

"That makes sense." Juvia nodded before diving into the cake. While enjoying the sweet, her mind replayed the wonderful moments that they had shared in the last 24 hours, specially their first kiss. 

                                   __________________

                                     One day before

"What's wrong, darling?" Juvia watched as Gray nervously ran his hands through his hair.

He had asked her to come with him outside the infirmary so that they could talk, yet he had said nothing.

"I need… I need to tell you something." He finally looked her in the eyes.

"What is it?" Heart hammering inside her chest; she hoped this was the long awaited moment of his confession.

"Well, I…You see..." Gray stumbled with his words.

"Perhaps we can talk later?" Juvia suggested, gently.

"No." He firmly denied. "I have to do this now."

She waited again. Nothing. "Maybe you could show me what you mean?"

During the time she had known him, it had become clear that he was more a man of action than words.

His eyes widened before nervousness morphed into determination. He moved quickly but cautiously. An arm wrapped around her waist, bringing her closer while watching her reaction.

Juvia smiled, arms instinctively encircling his neck. Then, his free hand reached for her cheek and softly stroked it for a moment.

Gray started leaning in. "Juvia, can I…."

She didn't let him finish. "Yes."

Their first kiss was passionate and even though it didn't happen the way Juvia had been dreaming of, she loved it nonetheless.

(Scene taken from Answers, Chapter 1)

                                   __________________

"What are you thinking about?" Gray asked after a few minutes, setting his empty plate aside. 

"I was just remembering when you kissed me the first time." Juvia chose to be honest. 

"Oh." A slight blush coloured his cheeks. "That was rather...embarrassing."

"It was very sweet," She softly remarked. 

"Thanks." Still blushing, Gray searched into the picnic basket for two caramade franks. 

Her eyes widened. "Where did you get those?"

"Gajeel found a store 2 days ago, so he told me about it last night," He explained while offering one to her. 

Accepting it, Juvia was genuinely surprised. "Gajeel...helped you with this?"

Gray chuckled at her reaction. "Yeah. He really cares about you, so I guess that's why he helped me make this date as perfect as possible." 

Taking a bite of the caramade frank, she reminded herself to thank Gajeel later for truly being her best friend. "That's good. I was hoping you two could get along." 

The ice mage smiled. "I know this is important to you, so I'll try." 

She returned it. "Thank you." 

                                   __________________

The rest of their date went smoothly and both had an enjoyable time. They got to know each other better, learning the most basic and trivial details such as their favourite colours. 

"I do love blue." She expectedly answered, making him laugh. "I figured." 

"What about yours?" Juvia questioned a moment later. 

Having finished eating,Gray moved closer to sit by her side. "Well, actually mine is silver."

"Really?" She stared at him in surprise. "May I ask why?"

Gray's expression turned melancholic once he answered. "It was my father's name."

This led into a conversation which they hadn't been eager for, but it was important nonetheless. He shared details about his parents, Ur and Deliora. 

Juvia was aware of most of his backstory, but there was new information such as the scarf which Ur had put around him and Lyon; it was the reason why he always wore one in the winter despite not feeling cold. The water mage also learned about his favourite childhood toy, a polar bear which had been gifted on his 1st birthday; as far as he remembered.

Gray even told her about the year before he joined Fairy Tail and the adventures he had. For once in his life, he opened up about everything, no reservations nor secrets. He trusted her fully. 

Alternatively, Juvia had to hide many details when they shifted the conversation to her childhood and family life. Trained to know how to lie and manipulate, she made her stories about growing up in an orphanage without anyone to call a friend sound sincere. 

It weighed on her conscience to be lying to him after he had been so honest, but there was no alternative. The truth needed to stay hidden, for both of their sakes. 

                                   __________________

Concealing her guilt was hard, but luckily Gray mistook this for sadness and held her in a tight embrace. His attempt to comfort her soon led to a make-out session and she found herself lying beneath him on of the flowery blanket. 

It was the perfect distraction from the complications of her life, so it's not like she was complaining. In fact, she was hoping their moment wouldn't have to end, but unfortunately their need for air eventually surpassed their desire for closeness. 

Gray got off from her and moved to lay by her side. Sweaty and breathless, they glanced at each other with mirroring smiles. "Wow. That was..."

 "I know." Juvia brought a hand to his cheek, stroking it gently. "Thank you."

"Of course." He took her hand and pressed a kiss to it, recalling that Lyon did that all the time and most women seemed to find it charming. 

Juvia smiled even brighter at this. "I really didn't expect you to be so..." 

He raised a brow in expectation. "What?"

She leaned in for a soft kiss. "Romantic."

Gray smirked. "I told you. I can be very romantic if I want to." 

"So you've never wanted to before?" She inquired, recalling their friends telling her how he was the least romantic person they knew. 

He fixed her with an adoring look. "I hadn't found someone worth being romantic for." 

It was the sweetest declaration, so she couldn't help it but to enthusiastically kiss him, to which he eagerly returned.

Even though he hadn't said those three words yet, Juvia knew that he was in love as much as she was. This made her heart swell with joy and reminded her of the first time she had watched two people fall in love.

                                   __________________

                                    Many years ago...

Juvia sat beside a great oak tree in the gardens, watching the couple embrace. Ajeel Rahmal, a young prince who had recently joined the Spriggan 12, held his now girlfriend, Nadia, tightly. Both seemed immensely glad and relieved after having confessed their feeling. It was the most heartwarming sight. 

"They look so happy," Juvia observed, smiling softly. 

"They do." Turning to her right, she found that Irene had returned from her brief chat with the emperor. The older woman seemed happy too once her eyes found the couple. 

Noticing them kiss, Juvia couldn't help but wonder. "Irene, do you think they will get married?"

Irene stared at her in surprise before raising a brow. "What makes you think that?" 

"Well, according to the books I've read, when two people love each other they get married," The young girl  innocently replied.

"Oh, yes." Irene nodded. "They always end like that, don't they?" She seemed lost in thought for a moment before sighing. "It's a shame that real life doesn't work that way." 

"What do you mean?" Juvia was confused, but also curious. 

The older woman was clearly trying to hide her bitterness, but it still showed. "Just that there isn't always a happy ending."

"I know," The young girl frowned. "My parents...They didn't get one." 

For some reason, Irene looked guilty for a moment. However, her expression soon returned to sorrowful. "They didn't." 

With the mood now heavy and gloomy, they fell silent. Their attention returned to the couple and both felt envious at their happiness. Then, once the silence was becoming unbearable, Irene offered the young girl an assuring smile. "But that doesn't mean that you can't have one." 

"So you think I can be happy..." Juvia glanced at the couple just as they laughed at something Ajeel had said. "...like them?"

"I'm sure you can." Irene knelt down to her level, placing both hands on the young girl's shoulder. "You're beautiful, kind and brave." She brushed back a strand of blue hair. "Just like your mother." 

"Thank you." Juvia blushed at the compliments. 

"I wouldn't be surprised if, someday, you found someone who will love you as much as your father loved her." Irene told her, genuinely. 

"And then we'll get married?" The young girl asked, hopeful. 

The older woman chuckled, then nodded. "Yes. Maybe you'll get a happy ending just like in your books."

[matth1w]

I Won’t Say - Chapter 1

(Gif Credit)

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Summary: You and Obi-Wan stand on the edge of something more than friendship. With Anakin in your ear and a special gift from Obi-Wan, will you finally admit your feelings?

Warnings: Typical slow burn angst

Rating: Everyone

Word Count: 2,837 words

Note: I took some liberties and I’m not an expert in Star Wars so apologies in advance if any terminology or anything is incorrect.

For: my dear friend @commander-writergirl’s #800CelebrationChallenge / I chose the song prompt I Won’t Say (I’m In Love) from Hercules

A soft knock on your door stirred you out of the book you had been reading. The climatic scene was unfolding between two classical lovers who were finally professing their undying love for one another. If you couldn’t live out your desires, you could at least read about them.

“Come in!” you announced as you shut the book and shifted in your chair. You knew it could only be a handful of people at this time, even less being so polite as to knock (looking at you, Anakin Skywalker).

You didn’t try to contain the joy on your face when Obi-Wan stepped through the door. You quickly stood and rushed to embrace him. Something you only felt certain enough to do after long or dangerous missions and in private places.

Obi-Wan chuckled underneath your touch as he wrapped one arm around your waist, the sound coming from deep within his chest.

“Careful, my dear.” He murmured in his low comforting voice against your hair.

You pulled back, letting your hand rest on his arm as you examined his face.

“Are you hurt?”

This brought another sparkling laugh from Obi-Wan.

“No, no. I’m perfectly fine.” He explained with a wry smile, “I just didn’t want you to crush your present.”

Your face lit up at the mention of a present and a slight blush rose up your cheeks.

Obi-Wan smiled at you as he moved the arm that was behind his back and held a small potted plant in front of him. It was a trio of small, delicate white flowers adorned with smatterings of blue and purple.

“It’s beautiful!” You whispered in adoration and genuine surprise. You had never seen a flower like it. And it of course meant that much more coming from your favorite Jedi.

Had you not been so enamored by the floral gift, you would have flinched at the electricity that ran through you as your fingers brushed against Obi-Wan’s as you accepted the present.

“Do you like it?” Obi-Wan mused. You looked up at his affectionate eyes that had been examining your reaction and giggled.

“Of course I do!” You admonished, but it was without malice as you truly loved the easy teasing between you two.

Obi-Wan moved to stroke his beard as he nodded, trying to maintain a semblance of control over his facial expressions and busy his hands that yearned to reach out and touch you.

He cleared his throat, trying to rid his head of distracting thoughts.

“It’s a unique thing. It’s called an Evening Primrose. It opens up during the nighttime then shuts when the sun rises.”

You examined the flower curiously, turning it in your hands. You had never heard of such a thing. You wondered for a moment if it had medicinal uses.

“To be quite honest, when I saw it, I couldn’t help but think of you, my little night owl.”

Your head shot up and you were certainly blushing at the nickname. Obi-Wan had never called you anything like that before, and certainly never looked at you with such tenderness either.

You tore your eyes away, looking down to the flower below. And in a desperate attempt to maintain the light atmosphere, rather than delve into anything that could be perilous, you returned once more to light hearted banter.

“Not everyone can be as early a riser like you, Obi-Wan.” Your lips curled into a content, albeit secretly saddened smile and his soon matched yours at the surface.

“But then who would bring you breakfast when you sleep in?” Obi joked back and you had to laugh at that, the tension easing from your body.

“I would say Anakin but I know he struggles as much as I do most days.”

Obi-Wan sighed at that and once again brought his hand to his chin.

“Yes, he’s become much less strict about his morning meditation since he’s become a Knight.”

“It’s not the worst thing in the world.” You chided. “You should try it sometime, you might like it.”

The unintentional double meaning behind your words made Obi’s smile turn upside down for a fraction of a second, it would not have been noticeable if you weren’t so close to him or had known him for so long.

The room became silent for a moment as you struggled with what you should say and Obi-Wan seemed to do the same.

You met his eyes hesitantly and lifted the potted primrose up.

“Thank you for the gift, Obi. It was very thoughtful of you.”

He smiled, that soft, melancholic smile that never reached his eyes that appeared often during moments like this.

“Of course.”, he said quietly, his voice low and weak.

Fearing nothing was left to say than things neither of you were ready to speak aloud, he nodded.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He reached his hand out to rest on your shoulder and smiled more genuinely and lightly this time. The familiar sparkle of lighthearted teasing covering the misery brewing within them.

“I’ll need to get my rest if I’m to wake up before you. Though I suppose it won’t be too hard.”

He tauntingly grinned at you and you rolled your eyes, trying to focus on anything but his light touch and the unspoken words and emotions that desperately tried to surface around you.

“Goodnight, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan nodded with a gentlemanly smile and bowed before he turned on his feet and exited your room.

In the quiet air, your fingers caressed the smooth terra-cotta underneath them as you brought the flower up to your nose to take in its sweet aroma.

—————

The soft chimes of your alarm stirred you from your slumber. It had been peaceful and calm night of rest, taking away your worries and repeating thoughts and replacing them with lovers dreams.

You shifted onto your side, admiring the now closed flowers. They were a beautiful sight to behold, even now, and one you could get used to seeing each time you opened your eyes.

Your heart pained at how you would much rather see a different view each morning, a pair of light blue eyes, but you fervently pushed the image away.

—————

Today had been a slow day in the medical bay, the hours crept on like thick mud. Thankfully, the evening and end of your shift were finally arriving as you thrummed your fingers on the table beside you. You had finished your rounds on the longer term patients and just finished typing up your last report on your datapad.

You heard one of your coworkers call your name. They didn’t sound panicked, moreso tired and annoyed so you didn’t worry but walked their way nonetheless.

When you reach the front of the wing, you saw Anakin standing with a mischievous smile alongside your much less energized coworker.

A slight tinge of pity hit you, Denoto, the veteran medical assistant had been there for nearly 12 hours today. You glanced at your watch to check the time. There were only a few minutes left in your shifts and the new wave had already arrived.

“You can go, Denoto,” you notified him with a smile that hopefully had seemed compassionate. You two didn’t much get along and you knew he envied your position as Head Medic.

The man gave a curt nod in response and walked past Anakin without a second look.

You rolled your eyes at the grumpy old man with Anakin and turned around.

“Come on,” you waved him back and heard him quickly follow, his boots sharp on the hardened floor.

Anakin cleared his throat as he caught up to walk in line with you.

“I got a bit scratched up on our mission. I think it’s fine...” his voice lowered as he leaned in with a sly smile, “but Padme insisted you check it.”

You smiled back, “She’s typically right. Let me see.” You had reached your destination and patted the bed beside you for him to hop up on.

He lifted his sleeve to reveal a minor wound on his shoulder. It was nothing to be worried about, but it could use some cleaning as it looked like it hadn’t been cleaned properly.

It wouldn’t surprise you, Anakin was reckless and once countered your reprimands with the claim that if he tended to his own wounds, you wouldn’t get to see him as often.

You settled into the familiar process and Anakin leaned back and closed his eyes. You didn’t mind, the silence was comfortable due to your strong friendship.

“So,” his voice broke the silence, mischief apparent in the one word alone.

You looked up to see him looking at you with those interrogating eyes and you turned around to pull out a bacta pad from the drawer behind you. You had a feeling you knew what he wanted to talk about.

“Did Obi-Wan give you your gift?” His voice was playful and teasing, like only a best friend’s could.

You blushed as you turned back around, even though you willed your face and emotions to stay neutral and didn’t meet his eyes, though you could feel them practically burning a hole in you.

He chuckled, “I take that as a yes.”

Your eyes flitted to his momentarily then back at the wound. You knew Anakin wouldn’t leave well enough alone so you gave in with a sigh.

“Yes he did. I assume you had a role in it?”

You poked him with your finger, outside his wound but he still flinched as it tickled him slightly, a satisfied smile blossoming on your lips.

His signature troublemaker smile came back slowly, like he was relishing in the moment.

“Actually, no. The first I knew of it was when we were boarding the ship back.”

You blushed at that. It was harder to dismiss the gift as simply your friend’s meddling if he had no part in it.

You silently took off your gloves, standing to dispose of them in the bin, and patted Anakin’s covered shoulder. You didn’t want to think too much about it. And certainly didn’t want to hear any more of Anakin’s thoughts on the matter.

“Just a small infection.” You were pleased with the neutrality of your voice.

“Come back tomorrow to get fresh gauze. But otherwise, no one needs to worry about you.” Your voice and eyes softened as you finished.

He smiled gratefully, thankful for your abilities and confidence.

“Thank you.”

Anakin took your hand and looked seriously at you a moment before speaking in a hushed tone.

“Obi-Wan cares about you, you know.”

“Of course he does,” you sighed as you softly pulled your hand away and fidgeted with the roll of gauze you were packing away. “But no more than he cares about you or Ashoka. He probably is only kind because I tend to his injuries and don’t get all starry eyed around him or the other Jedi.”

“But...” he interjected.

“He’s a friend, Anakin. Nothing more.” Your voice grew stronger, more stubborn.

“Not like you...” you lowered your voice before your continued. “... and Padme.”

Anakin shook his head in exasperation and scoffed quietly.

“Whatever you say, Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

His playful smile returned and you knew there were no hard feelings between you two.

“You better!” You chastised as you playfully swatted him.

A laugh is shared between you two before Anakin bows out and you’re left with your own spiraling thoughts, trying to decipher the meaning of Obi-Wan’s gift.

—————

You had tried to sleep, a bit earlier than usual but you couldn’t stop admiring the primrose on the windowsill. One of your perks of your role as head medic was that you had a corner room that was tucked away down a long hall and had a small window.

The flowers nearly glowed in the soft moonlight, and you couldn’t help but be taken with the beautiful, unique flowers. But also, more truly, what they represented.

A gift from Obi-Wan.

It wasn’t the first but certainly the most thoughtful, more-so now that you knew he brought it to you without any heavy-handed suggestion from Anakin.

You had to admit you were a bit disappointed that you hadn’t seen him today. You cursed yourself for the silly notion. You had just seen him yesterday. Although, it had been brief, and you wanted to hear more about his mission.

Yes, that was why you were disappointed. You wanted to hear about the mission. You laughed bitterly at the lie you were telling yourself and pictured Anakin calling you out on it if he was here.

A bit frustrated and knowing sleep wouldn’t come to you just yet, you sighed and swung your legs over the side of the bed. You stared at the flower a few minutes more before you decided to stretch your legs.

You didn’t know much about how to care for the flower but you thought the soil could give you a clue. Shuffling over to the pot, you determined it was watered enough. But the shine of the flower entranced you once more and you allowed yourself to daydream for just a moment.

You imagined planting it in the small garden in your backyard. You would tend to it and the other flowers and plants while Obi-Wan sat by the small pond meditating or reading.

You two would share lunches outside in the garden when the weather permitted and there would be a bench upon which you both could sit. And as the moon rose and the primrose bloomed, you would admire the stars, Obi pointing out which planets were which and telling you stories about the ones he had visited.

You blinked, the yearning pain in your heart bringing you back to reality. You felt incredibly foolish. Not only because Obi-Wan would never leave the Order for you but also because you knew that dreams that felt so good when they start out would eventually twist into nightmares and you would end up crying your heart out once more.

You had thought about sharing that ideal life with another a long time ago, when you had just finished your training and were stationed at a small hospital. He had been a kind man, another medic who had been on a different team but would always come around for talk whenever your schedules allowed. He was in a terrible accident one day and you stayed by his side through it all.

You scoffed internally as anger bubbled inside you, if there was a prize for rotten judgment, you would’ve won it. He played you like a fool. Once he was healed and regained his life, he left you, cold and alone for another.

You swore off love for a long time, determined that no man was worth the aggravation, the heartache, or time.

But then you became a medic here. And you met Obi-Wan. How twisted of fate to make you open your heart again for someone who could never truly be yours.

Who do you think you’re kidding? He’s the earth and heaven to you. No matter how hard you tried keep it hidden or conceal it, it was plain as day, you were in love. Anakin assured you as much. And mind reading or not, you were certain Obi-Wan himself knew.

You sighed, you hated acknowledging the truth of your feelings, and that... you loved him. But you would never speak it aloud. Not even in the confines of your room, alone and hidden in the darkness.

Plus, you thought your heart had learned its lesson. Your head was screaming for you to get a grip, reminding you of how you had cried your heart out for weeks over failed love before.

This back and forth was so tiring. You should just face it like a grown woman. Tell Obi-Wan your feelings and then leave if, no when, he says it can’t be.

No chance or way you’re doing that. Throwing out your career and friendships. You won’t say it. You can’t say it.

But your heart tempted you with images about how things could end up if you gave up and gave into your feelings. You stopped yourself as much as it hurt, that scene won’t play.

You imagined if Anakin and Padme were here now as your heart and mind fight amongst themselves.

They would say you’re in love, you’d tell them they’re way off base and try to get them off your case, but in turn they’d just tell you you don’t need to be proud, that it’s okay you’re in love. You smiled at the antics you were sure would happen.

A strong wave of sleep washed over you as you made your way back to your bed. You happily gave in as you laid your blanket atop your body, hoping to at least live out your fantasy in your dreams.

As you drifted to sleep, you promised yourself something.

You wouldn’t say you were in love...

At least out loud.

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

The Couple Next Door II (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Find Part I Here

A/N: Been a long time coming. I know it’s been literally half a year. I’ve been working through stressful family things, prep for university in the coming fall, spending as much time as I can with my boyfriend before we go our separate ways for a few months, etc.

 Stuff just got busy and I am SO sorry I haven’t addressed any of that. I know many of you want part two, and here it is. I don’t know if it’s as good as my other works on here, but the only way to find out is to post it, right? 

But anyways, yes, this chapter is here, and it’s kinda a filler. there’ll be more plot development in the next chapter, and I promise, if this part does well, I will not hesitate to post a continuation. 

Like I say in my other author’s notes, feedback, and any sort of note, whether it be a reblog, a like, or a comment, is greatly appreciated. it inspires me more to keep writing. So thank you!

Summary: Moving day is here, and you and Roger had the honour of meeting the neighbours across the street, the Garrisons.

(This can be read as Borhap!Roger or IRL Roger. Whatever mows your lawn)

WARNINGS: Swearing, mild sexual content (but NO smut), and zero knowledge of U-Haul History (I know they no longer exist in the UK, but I’m Canadian and I’m too lazy to do any research to make sure the timeline is matched)

Like the previous fic in this series, it’s rated a T for Mature Subject Matter

It was a bright, sunny morning in London (shocking, right?). 

The day would have been hot, but the wind chill cooled down the city rather nicely. 

Not only was this a wonderful day, but it was moving day. 

Roger was pushing the last box of vinyl records into the trunk of his car. He shut the trunk, and huffed a sigh before running his fingers through his sweaty hair. He didn’t remember the last time he’d lifted so much.

He took a minute to catch his breath, two ladies roughly the same age as him, jogging past. He drank in their appearances before winking at one of them and retreating to the apartment in which he and you once resided. 

He made his way down the hallway leading to your room, and although he was planning on going to the empty room that once was his own, he figured he could receive the same amount of nostalgia when looking at your now vacant bedroom. 

Roger found it so strange– The bare walls and stripped mattress. The empty closet and the unoccupied corners of the room. 

“Weird, eh?” Roger asked you, who was simply packing away the last of the books on your shelf. You turned to him, and he leaned against the threshold of your bedroom door, arms crossed over his chest. 

You shrugged your shoulders, glancing down at the floor and scratching the back of your head. 

“Just a little, yeah.”

Roger playfully pouted at you, shoving his hands into his jean pockets as he entered the bedroom. 

He looked around silently, and you went back to shoving your final books into its box before closing it up and labelling the cardboard. 

“I’m gonna miss this place,” you said, frowning at the realization that you’d already slept, ate, showered, cleaned, and cooked for the last time in this apartment. 

Roger took immediate notice of your upset tone. “Don’t get all melancholic on me now, y/n,” Roger teased, taking a seat right next to the box you just packed. 

“But won’t you?/" 

"Miss this place? Of course.” Roger smiled a little. “And Brian will miss us." 

”Oh yeah. He’ll definitely miss my awful singing in the shower every morning, and your extremely loud noises when you bring a girl over to bed.“ 

He just shrugged. "What can I say? I’m not about to fake being unsatisfied, especially when I’m trying to get a girl off." 

You shuddered. "I don’t wanna hear about your sex life, Roger." 

He laughed loudly, rising to his feet and picking up the box of books on your mattress. "Then I don’t wanna hear you complaining about how loud I am in bed." 

"You’re making it sound like we fuck,” you crossed your arms accusingly, your face twisting sourly. 

“Might as well be. We’re basically a couple.” He turned on his heel and left the room, but not before he sent a teasing wink your way. 

You simply shook your head, mumbling “gross” under your breath jokingly and moving to the bathroom to retrieve your remaining possessions in the medicine cabinet. 

_____________________________

“Are you sure you don’t need my help, guys? Christine isn’t going to get here for another few hours." 

"I think we’re all good, Bri,” Roger assured the tall guitarist, giving him a kind slap on the back. 

“But if we do, we’ll give you a ring,” you added, to which Roger smiled. He liked that about you. You were so humble, but weren’t afraid at all to ask for assistance. It was an admiring trait of yours. 

“Will do,” Brian confirmed with a grin and a simple nod of his head. You and Roger returned the nod, and walked to the car. 

After climbing in, and giving one last look at the apartment building the both you and Roger once called home, he drove you both off to your new humble abode.

____________________________

“We can just put it here,” Roger directed as the both of you lowered the piece of furniture on the floor. When it was set where the both of you wanted it, you plopped down in the chair on the other side of the living room, sighing loudly.

“It was real nice of Christine to give us some of her furniture,” you commented, watching as Roger collapsed on the sofa in exhaustion. 

“Well she’s got all Bri’s stuff now, right?" 

The question sounded more like a statement, and Roger wasn’t surprised when you didn’t respond. 

”… d'ya know what’s left to bring in from the U-Haul?“ 

"The mattresses and all the boxes from the car, I believe." 

Roger groaned, and got to his feet, much to his dismay. "Then we can rest,” he exclaimed with a sigh. You just smiled at the idea, pushed off from your place on the chair, and followed Roger out. 

He walked straight towards the moving truck and into the back, where one more box hid with the mattresses, which were now the only things occupying the truck. You, on the other hand, stood at the steps of the condominium, your eyes wandering around the complex. 

Roger, who was just about to pass you with the final box in his hand, bumped your hip playfully with his own before slipping away into the building. You turned to where he was a moment ago, smiling to yourself at the idea of just how childish Roger could be. 

Your eyes shifted to the right a little, and you caught the gaze of a man and woman who appeared to have been in their early to mid sixties, across the complex’s main stretch of road. You smiled, and waved at the couple, something you’d expect them to return. 

What you didn’t prepare for was when they waved back, and began approaching you to properly greet themselves. 

Your eyes widened and you began to internally panic. Roger was just exiting the front door, and you extended your wrist out, grabbing his arm tightly and pulling him back before he could go any further. 

You turned to face him, your expressions hidden from everyone but him. “Neighbours’ coming,” you warned in a hushed tone, your eyebrows bent in worry, and your bottom lip rolling between your teeth anxiously. 

“Hey, hey, nothin’ to worry about. I’m here. All you need to do is hold my hand, yeah? I can do all the talking." 

You let go of his arm after a moment, and he slowly curled his fingers around yours. He took a deep breath, as did you, before putting on bright smiles, and turning towards the neighbours, who just appeared from in behind the truck. 

"Hi! You two must be the new couple. Welcome to the complex! I’m Anna Garrison, and this is my husband, Charles." 

You and Roger branded the friendliest smiles you both could muster. You watched as Roger let go of you to reach out and shake the couple’s hands. 

"I’m Roger Taylor,” he introduced, glancing down and snaking an arm warmly around your waist. 

“… and this is my beautiful girlfriend, y/n.” You tried to ignore what Roger said despite feeling your face grow hot. You reached out and politely shook the Garrisons’ hands as well, keeping the smile plastered on your mouth no matter how much it ached. 

“I remember when we were that young and in love,” Charles mused in a soft tone. Conversations like this, Roger knew, you wanted to avoid at all costs, and he did as well. He was just… really good at lying. 

Although the Garrisons looked nice, there was something about them that made them seem rather nosey. 

And your suspicions were proven true when you watched Anna’s gaze fall on your bare wedding finger despite just hearing Roger and you were only “boyfriend and girlfriend”. 

“So… do you two plan on marrying soon? You may be young, but time does pass." 

You knew you should have remained quiet, but you began to panic, and you let out a laugh. "Yeah. We… we kinda talk about it. Not much." 

"We wanna settle in first,” Roger offered, knowing if he didn’t start talking soon, you would have said too much. 

You wondered how Roger could do that so easily: pretend, yet be so believable. You wondered if he simply tossed extra words in without thought. Like adding “girl” before “friend”, something he’d called you since you met. 

You wondered if he found it awkward to hold your hand, or have you so physically close to him. Then again, you two never exactly had/ personal space. 

You knew he had a method of doing this, but you couldn’t quite place exactly what he was doing, or how he did it so naturally. 

“Well, it’s gonna be nice, having another couple to have over for dinner." 

You could feel your throat swelling. If you made a list on everything you wanted to avoid doing with these neighbours in this complex that you were gonna end up having to do, a quarter of the list would have probably already been crossed off. 

"That sounds lovely,” Roger nodded politely, silently wishing himself that the day never had to come, for your sake. 

But it seemed Charles and Anna thought differently, and when the married couple made eye contact with one another, you and Roger just knew this invitation was not going to be forgotten about. 

“Why don’t you two come tonight?” Charles asked, to which his wife nodded in agreement. 

“Don’t worry about having to cook after a long day of moving in. I’m making a lovely casserole, and we can send you home with leftovers. There’s always too much for Charlie and I to eat anyways, with our kids having moved out and away long ago." 

Roger opened his mouth to politely decline the offer, but like a few moments before, you panicked and spoke again. "That sounds great, actually!" 

The blond looked down at you, and you could see in your peripheral that Roger seemed lost, though the Garrisons didn’t even notice. 

"Perfect! We’re right across the road. I suspect it will be done near six-thirty. Gives you two some time to yourselves after everything is moved in." 

"We’ll see you around six then?” Charles asked Roger, his old grey eyes wide and expecting. 

“Six it is,” Roger agreed, matching smiles with the older gentleman. 

“Six it is,” Anna repeated before linking arms with her husband, bidding farewell, and returning to their condominium. 

As soon as they closed the door, you tightly grabbed Roger’s wrist, and stepped inside your new home. When the door shut, you let out a long groan, bending your knees and squatting, your face in your hands. 

“I thought this is what you wanted to avoid!" 

"I know, I know, and I panicked and I fucked up and now we have to have dinner with them,” you whined helplessly. “You’ve known me for years, you know I do this all the time!" 

Roger, whose knees were bent, palms flat against his thighs as he thought, took a deep breath, and regained a neutral posture. 

"You know what,” he raised his hands in a calming sort of gesture. 

“It’s not as bad as you think." 

 "What do you mean "it’s not as bad as you think”?!“ You were horrified with Roger’s words. 

 "We do this once, and we never have to go back!” You raised your head from its once defeated position in your hands, but you could see Roger’s reasoning. 

"Oh my God…" 

"I know! Then we’re home-free!” He explained with a grin, his arms wide open. 

You leaned backwards, falling on your ass and leaning your head up against the wall in relief. 

“Oh God. We just gotta get through tonight.” You opened your heavy eyelids and smiled up at Roger. “We’ll be fine." 

 "Yes we will. Now, c'mon, Love. Let’s get those mattresses in here before someone takes notice we have different beds." 

And that’s exactly what you did. 

 And after the car was all unpacked, you and Roger took a well-deserved nap together on the couch.

_____________________________

A/A/N: Thank you all for your patience. Happy reading!

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[elamikaaa]

Plot Twist

Now, I haven’t had any professional vocal lessons at all for the eighteen years I have lived, but since I started singing at the tender age of four, I think it’s safe to say that I’m somewhat a singer. I lack a lot in technique, sure, but I think I sound somewhat decent, at least. 

 As a singer, it is best that you really pour out the emotions that the song is trying to convey. It is as if you are the messenger trying to communicate an intricately crafted message to whoever is listening to you. Every word in every verse, hook, chorus or bridge, every single chord progression, every single note, pause, the speeding up and the slowing pace of the beat, the transpositions... every single component of a song was carefully put in there to construct an overall message that you as a singer have to relay. So, it is very important that you really mean what you sing for you to do so. Knowing whatever the song is trying to express alone simply is not enough for a singer to capture the essence of a song. The moment you are unable to feel, the more you’ll deviate from whatever the song is trying to convey. This, in my honest opinion, is what makes someone fail as a singer, or as an artist in general. After all, all modes of art are forms of expression. 

 One of my favourite artists, NIKI, released her first album, Moonchild, 3 days ago. Me being the fan that I am, I checked it out on SoundCloud as soon as I could. I listened for every single track in order (except for the songs that she already released prior, such as Switchblade, Selene and Lose). I have not finished listening to the whole album yet — I haven’t listened to Drive On — because there’s this one song in the album that really caught my attention: Plot Twist. 

 Plot Twist really encapsulates the unexpected blossoming of a newfound love. The moment I hit play on SoundCloud, my eardrums were smacked lovingly with what sounded like utopia in its melodic form. Maybe it is because of my current predicament, but this song, from the lyrics to the dreamy instrumentals, perfectly epitomised how someone can either enter as, or develop into, a pleasant surprise in another’s life. Honestly, this song really hit home. As soon as I listened to it, I thought of one person and I can think of only them whenever this song comes to mind. 

 I could go on a whole analysis and a breakdown of key parts of the song but honestly, the lyrics are self-explanatory. There is really nothing for me to elaborate on. All I really can say is that it is the first verse that makes me think of him the most. when I was really contemplating ‘closing the book’, there he was, ‘in every nook’, making me want to continue reading to see if the ending will be different this time around. I had just gone through the biggest heartbreak I had experienced with my best-friend who I had a crush on for two years, and he was among the many who supported me through it all. Little did I know that he’d be my next heartbreak... oh well.  

 Not every single part of the song is representative of what once was between us, if I can even call it that, anyway. It was not 'always gonna be [him] and I’, nor did I really think that something was ever really going to come into fruition. He felt like a ‘brand new arc’ but not exactly one that I ‘never knew’ the outcome of. He was definitely different, but in a way, he’s similar because he, like the others, was also a very good friend who never got to fully reciprocate my feelings (I know, looks like I have a preference for best-friends, huh). To add onto that, he ended up moving on very quickly with someone else after many months of us developing a relationship together — not necessarily a romantic one, but just a strong bond. It is okay that he did not reciprocate. That is not what I have an issue with. It is how he moved on to her straight away, but I will not go into detail about that here. That has been the topic of every single other piece I have ever written, so I think I have harped about that enough.

Anyway, it was very painful, and although I am grateful for the lessons my experience with him has taught and revisited, I am not exactly thankful for ‘plot twists’ like him. Despite the euphoria he made me feel, which the song captured, I feel more regret about him than anything, really. 

 I love singing NIKI’s songs; more specifically, her more melancholic songs: Lose, Around, and my all-time favourite, La La Lost You. I feel more of a connection to these songs because, well, they are all about heartbreak. One perk of being extremely sensitive is that I can sing these sad love songs just fine simply because I can really feel it all. I can feel the resignation in the ending of Lose when she sings, “I don’t need a reason to keep on dreaming, that I can win this stupid thing called love.” In Around, when she sings, “I miss you though you’re cold,” I immediately think of the day he ignored my messages and started talking to me in an uncharacteristically stern manner. Though I was anxious, I still missed him very much and wanted to talk to him even if every single inch of my body screamed at me that he did not want me around anymore. La La Lost You, from how I am perceiving it, shows a person’s divergence from someone they loved dearly. “Hope New York holds you, hope it holds you like I do” in the second verse of the chorus is the line that made me cry the hardest when I first listened to it, because it very much resembled how much I love him and how much I’ll always love him despite how terrible our ending was. Even after everything, even if it were justified for me to be petty and upset, I could not; I can only wish the best for him. I really meant it when I concluded my final texts to him at the time with, ‘Hope you’re doing well’ and ‘Wish you all the best’, or something along the lines of those — I don’t have the best memory so I can’t give an exact recall, but you get the gist. In saying this, I hope whoever is reading this knows the distinction between having love for someone and being in love with someone. I am not in love with him anymore, just to clarify. However, he still does have a spot in my heart, and I will forever wish him all the best. I will be here for him, should he need me and if I am able to be there for him. He called me a couple of months ago and talked so we are in better terms now. Not as close as we once were (I think that is the best measure to take, to be honest), but better terms, nonetheless. I must admit, there are some things I still want to ask and get clarity for, but I do not think I’ll get the chance anytime soon, so I’ll leave it be. 

Point is, only NIKI’s melancholic melodies have hit me to the point where I can execute their messages adequately enough when I sing. To add to that, I just love singing her songs in general anyways, they are quite close to my vocal range. 

 Listening to Plot Twist, however, struck a different chord in me. As much as I love the song, and as much as I relate to many parts of it, I do not think I can ever sing this song. In the grand scheme of things, that is okay. There are many more tunes of solemnity that I can sing instead. But Plot Twist was very bittersweet. Probably the most bittersweet song I have ever listened to. I know it is only bittersweet because of what I associate the song with, but still… damn. NIKI really got me good with this one. 

 Sometimes I cannot help but wonder if I would be able to really relate to this song in another life. Not in the bittersweet way that I do right now, but in a way that I am only reminded of a serendipitous encounter. Should I love again in this life (I know I sound naïve but really, please get love away from me thank you) then this song is for them since now, I really am ‘closing the book’. But should anyone draw my attention enough to make me ‘stay and wait’ and give me the happy ending I have never had, then I can finally say that I can feel this song in its entirety. Only then can I sing this song and narrate its beautiful story. 

  In this life, however, I will just have to stick to humming along to the lyrics on SoundCloud behind closed doors. 

[sincerelynamkook]

Sincerely, Jungkook

Jungkook x Reader First POV

Genre: Soft/Fluff/Romance Word Count: 2693

Playlist: “Dear No One” by Tori Kelly // “Best Part” by Daniel Caesar ft HER

On a rainy day you receive a letter from the one whom your soul longs for...

Day 365. 

I stare outside my window, soothed as I listen to the rain fall down. It’s a cold and gloomy day, perfect for my melancholic mood. I’ve done a great job of forgetting about him. But he comes to the front of my mind whenever I hear the word honey or when I see Twinkies as I’m grocery shopping or every time I hear Tori Kelly sing, and that last one sucks the most because I love her music. But other than that, I had moved on. 

 But today I can’t stop thinking about him. I keep wondering if he’s moved on too. Is he eating okay? Is he sleeping okay? He always had trouble falling asleep, always thinking of something to do instead of getting enough rest. Does he have someone new in his life? Does someone else hold the key to his heart?

It’s been a year. 365 days. 8760 hours. 525600 minutes since I last saw him. 

Don’t you mean since you broke up with him? That question haunts me daily. I constantly ask myself if I did the right thing. He tried to reassure me that we could make things work but I also knew he and the boys were only just beginning their journey as artists. I knew they were destined for greatness and the daily news articles and trending hashtags will tell you I was right. They are all out here breaking records and boundaries every day. I know if he had stayed with me I would’ve only been a burden. 

A knock at my door breaks me away from my grieving thoughts. I open it to find a courier guy.

“Y/N?” he asks as he looks down at the name on the small package.

“Yes, that’s me.” He has me sign the slip and hands me the package. 

I walk back inside and head over to my living room, making sure to grab a scissor from the kitchen so I can open the package. 

I sit on my couch getting ready to open the box when I see the return address, “GCF” and I freeze, the scissor slipping from my hand. 

Why? What? How? Huh?

I’m at a loss for words. How did he even get my address? Why now? Why is he reaching out to me TODAY of all days? What the actual fuck?

I feel myself start to panic. Breathe I tell myself. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths until I’m a bit calmer. I open the package and the only things are a letter and a DVD titled “365.”

I grab my laptop and insert the DVD to watch it but then I change my mind and decide to read the letter first. I take a deep breath and begin to read:

“My sweet Honey,” a small smile forms on my lips remembering how he would sing Kehlani’s Honey when he would call me this, especially when I was ignoring him because he knew it would make me smile big. 

“Did you know I fell in love with you before I even saw you? The sweet sound of your melodic voice stopped me in my tracks on that warm night in Malta. I was putting away my camera while I was walking back to my car, done with filming some footage for the day when I happened to walk by a busking with a small audience. I didn’t pay it any mind because no one was singing yet, but as I walked a few feet past it I heard you whisper a sweet letter to me. 

‘Dear no one, this is your love song’ I stopped walking, feet glued to the floor. Your voice was sweet, like dripping honey. I felt goosebumps rise down my arms as I slowly turned around. I still couldn’t see you because the audience got bigger, probably due to your voice being like a sirens call to all of the town. I started to take out my camera as I walked back towards you. Your voice kept pulling me closer and closer until I could see you in the small screen of my DSLR. I squeezed my way through the crowd, wanting to be front and center. Is this how Army feels when they see us perform? Like they can’t breathe until they’re inches away from the stage? I was having difficulty breathing, I felt dizzy, but the moment I saw you...the moment I saw you with your eyes closed, hair dancing in the wind as you hit those notes in a breathy whisper, I felt like I could breathe again. That breath I was finally able to take made me realize I hadn’t been breathing all my life. 

I recorded your entire performance that night. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, especially seeing you in your element as you sang about how you were independent but wanted someone to give you his jacket when you were cold. All I could think about was how I wanted to be that someone for you. 

When you finished the song, you opened your eyes and shyly smiled as you saw how big the crowd was. Your facial expression in that moment...seeing how humble you were and realizing how passionate you were about your talent, had me in awe. Someone in the crowd started chanting “encore encore” which made you giggle...my heart burst. I remember feeling this sudden urge to sing with you which is why I got up and walked to the other mic stand to the left of you. I looked over at you to find you looking at me with a puzzled expression as I asked you in a whisper, “do you know ‘Best Part’ by Daniel Caesar.’ The guitarist started to play the melody and we began to sing. Singing with you was the highlight of my trip and if I could go back to the moment I would relive it a thousand times.” 

I close my eyes as I start to hum the song, bringing me back to that memory. I was a bit nervous singing with this complete stranger who I had noticed walking down the block before I started to perform. He was in all black, with a bucket hat on his head which was big enough to cover his face, and he was focused on a camera. The look of determination on his face piqued my interest, but I forgot about him as soon as I started to sing. At the time I wasn’t looking for anyone, but seems like fate had something different planned for me because that’s when he came to me. 

When he got close to me and whispered if I knew Best Part my heart skipped a beat, almost as if it was restarting into a heart that belonged to him. When he started to sing “Best Part” and I heard his soft voice sing “it’s this sunrise and those brown eyes, you’re the one I desire” I looked over to find him looking at me as if he had known me all his life. I felt goosebumps rise on my arms and a pull on my heart strings. I feel my heart strings get tighter as I recall the memories and emotions from that day. It’s too much for me to dwell on so I go back to reading the letter:

“Asking you out that day was the best decision of my life. That year we spent together was and still is one of the most memorable and most cherished years of my life. My brothers and I have done a lot of great things with our music and every moment we spend with Army is a moment I’ll never forget, but it still doesn’t reach the level of happiness I had when I had you by my side. 

You were and still are the love of my life. I now understand why you broke up with me. Your poor excuse of being too different and not fitting into my lifestyle was bullshit and you know it.” I chuckle softly because he’s right. 

“I’m not going to lie and say a day didn’t go by where I didn’t miss you. Even during my busiest schedules, I still thought of you every day. Every sip of coffee would remind me of you. The image of your nose scrunch whenever you’d take a sip of my Americano due to it’s bitter taste would come to mind. I still don’t understand why you’d drink my coffee knowing you’d rather drink sugar with a splash of coffee. I’d think of you every time it’d rain. Those tour dates in Europe were the hardest for me. Although, while performing I’d put memories of you to the back of my mind, as soon as I left the venue and into the pouring rain, images of you running in the rain would come to mind. I must have been crazy for you to book that rose latte cafe that had just opened up in Itaewon at midnight, just to be able to go with you. To see that beautiful smile on your face and admire the way it would light up every time you’d obsess over a cafe’s aesthetic. But my favorite moment from that whole night was running hand in hand with you  to my car because we had to park half a mile away. The way you laughed as you tried to cover your hair with our hands, the way you cutely ‘yelled’ at me when I jumped into a puddle and splashed you, the way you looked at me when we stood outside my car in the rain. I can still feel the cold touch of your soft cheek as I held it in my hand and gently kissed you.”

I put the letter down and take a deep breath. Rainy days are the hardest for me for that same reason, and knowing that he was also hurting and struggling just as I was breaks my heart all over again. I pick up the letter again and am relieved to see that I'm almost done reading it. 

“Rainy days will always be bittersweet for me, because they remind me of what I had and lost. Y/N, I’m sorry I didn’t fight for you, for us. I’m sorry it took me a whole year to pick up my boxing gloves and get in the ring to fight the match that is us. I’m settled in my career now so there really is no excuse you can give me that would keep me away from coming after you, and even once I have you in my arms again for good, I’ll continue fighting all my life to show you how much I love you. Knowing you, you probably read this letter first, so now I’m asking you to watch the DVD.”

I wipe the tears that are running down my face with my sweater sleeves and press play on my computer to start the film. 

It opens up to an empty studio room, and after a closer inspection I realize it’s Jungkook's old studio at their old building. I hear a piano rendition of “Best Part” start playing softly and I can bet my life that he had Yoongi make this version for him. My heart aches and I rub my chest softly trying to ease away the pain. 

“Testing testing 1 2 3.” I hear his soft voice first, and then I see him come out from behind the camera to sit in his chair. His hair is unruly, face bare, and he’s wearing my favorite yellow hoodie. He bites his lip nervously and then leans on his elbow, resting his head on his hand. He sniffs a few times, god how I miss him. 

“Day 1. Day 1 of being without you. Day 1 of missing you. Day 1 of waking up without you next to me, of not cracking jokes until you wake up to hit me with your pillow.” Not being able to see through my tears, I hit pause. He didn’t. He did not make what I think he made. I fast forward a few minutes and hit play. 

“Day 15. Day 15 and I still miss you. I could still smell the scent of your perfume in my closet this morning when I was getting dressed. 15 days and I could finally drink a whole grande iced Americano.” Shut the fuck up. No, he didn’t. With more tears running down my face I fast-forward some more and hit play once again. 

“Day 256. I thought I was getting better, finally moving on, but it rained today.” Fuck. He did. He really made a video journal of everyday we were apart. The ache in my heart is too strong, no amount of rubbing my chest will ease the ache away. I stare at his handsome face on my screen. His hair is longer and curlier, his fingers accessorized with multiple silver rings run over his lips back and forth. I notice a new piercing on his left ear. But it’s the look of sadness on his face, the look of grief that guts me. Hurting all this time made me ignore the fact that he too was probably hurting just as much as me. The tears won’t stop coming and next thing I know I am full on sobbing. Sobbing for the broken boy on my screen, for the broken promises we made to each other, sobbing for my own heartbreak. I notice there are a few more minutes left of the video so I fast forward a little more and hit play one last time. 

“Day 365. It’s been a whole year since I started missing you. A whole year where I grieved for us. It took me a whole year, 365 days, to realize I can’t live without you. I know you still keep in touch with Jimin and that’s how I know you still miss me.” He says this last part in a cocky tone, smirking while doing so which makes me smile through my tears.

“I didn’t think I was going to send you this log until 3 months ago when I realized you were it for me. My heartstrings are pulled every time I think of you or every time I hear your name, meaning our red threads are still connected even after a year of not being together. We would be crazy to go our whole lives with our threads trying to pull us back together. Y/N, I loved you the minute I heard your voice back in Malta all that time ago, I loved you the day you left me, I love you every time it rains, I love you every second of every day. If you still love me, open the door when you hear your doorbell ring today.” The video ends with “Dear No One” playing softly and then I hear Jungkook start to sing the song. Grabbing some tissues, I wipe my face and try to stop the tears from falling, my heart stopping when the doorbell rings. My breathing stops as I just stare at the door. The doorbell rings again and I jump up from my couch and slowly walk to the door. Holding the door knob for a few seconds, I close my eyes and take one final deep breath. 

I see him standing there right in front of me. Hair wet from the rain, hands in his pockets, leather jacket hiding his torso. He smiles softly at me and takes one step closer, then another, then another until he’s one step away from me. He brings his hand out of his pocket and softly caresses my cheek, wiping a tear that had escaped. 

In his sweet soothing voice, he whispers, “Did you ever find your ‘no one’?

Closing my eyes, I bring up my hand to squeeze his that’s still touching my cheek. I lean into our hands and opening my eyes I softly whisper back, “I did. He’s standing right in front of me.”

[ashcrimson-is-writing]

Parce Mihi ~ Chapter 4

Fandom: Marvel (Pre-Marvelfilms)

Pairing: Loki x Sigyn

(Credits go to the gif-creator)

Summary:   It´s a tradition as old as Asgard itself: Once in a hundred years a   young woman gets chosen to be a lady-in-waiting to the queen and live   within her in the palace. This year Friggas choice falls on Sigyn, who   volunteers to save her family. Soon enough she meets Loki, Prince of   Asgard and even though he is a good actor, she slowly starts to see   something different in him, than the cold and arrogant man he is to   everyone else. But meanwhile, not seen by anyone, dark clouds are  gathering over the  mountains of Asgard and it is only a matter of time  till the storm  begins.  (Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort)

—————————————————————————————————- —————————————————————————————————-

Sigyn let her fingertips dance softly on the water surface. Small waves radiated from her fingers and formed patterns on the crystal clear water reflecting the sun, which shone warmly from the asgardian sky.

After the rain of yesterday, the clouds had cleared overnight and made way for warm, sunny weather, which Frigga and her ladies-in-waiting used to enjoy the gardens of the palace.

Despite the beautiful weather, Sigyn hardly felt better than before though. She still missed her family, and after meeting the other court ladies in the morning, she felt even lonelier. They all knew each other well and for a long time and were like friends, talking to the palace guards when they passed by and smiling and laughing non-stop. They were cheerful and above all they belonged here.

Sigyn, on the other hand, felt like a silent observer of what was going on all the time, as if Frigga and her ladies-in-waiting were something completely different from herself. As if she was next to them, but not actually with them. And even though she had tried hard not to appear repellent, any attempts by the ladies-in-waiting to start a conversation with her had bounced off Sigyn. Her feelings were too uncertain and thoughtful for her to want to talk to anyone.

Without a break, her thoughts circled around her siblings. She wondered what they were doing right now. Whether they were all doing well? Had they already received the money? Did they miss Sigyn as much as she missed them?

Trembling, Sigyn sighed and propped her head on one hand while she laid the other one beside her in the grass and ran her thumb over the stalks. Even now, here in the gardens, Sigyn was more alone than being one of the court ladies. While they were all together in groups, talking or reading, Sigyn sat alone next to the small fountain in the middle of the gardens, her upper body leaning on the stone edge of the well, and she was strangely melancholic.

It seemed so strange to her to be here, so different and she was sure that this feeling would never fade away.

Sigyn let her hand slide back into the cool water and laid her head on the edge of the fountain, watched her fingers touch the surface of the water and saw the occasional sunrays that were gently broken by it. Were her brothers and sisters also outside at this very moment?

"It is alright to miss them".

Startled, Sigyn sat up and quickly pulled her hand out of the water, whereupon small droplets were flying in all directions, directing her gaze to the origin of the voice she had just heard.

Frigga sat a little away from her on the edge of the well, looked at her with awake, tender eyes and smiled amusedly: " Forgive me Sigyn, I didn't mean to scare you" she said, and a light wind blew through her golden-blond hair: "I thought you had already seen me".

A little ashamed Sigyn could feel her cheeks blushing and hesitantly she replied: "Your Highness, I'm sorry that I didn't notice you. I was too engrossed in my thoughts", before she lifted herself up and sat down on the fountain as well, put her hands in her lap and began to pull on the sleeves of her light blue dress. What a terrible impression she must have made.

The queen laughed softly. A warm, hearty laugh that calmed Sigyn a bit and at the same time made her look questioningly at the woman sitting next to her, whose eyes were shining and who looked younger as she laughed.

"You don't need to apologize, it was my mistake to sneak up on you like that, a bad habit of mine. And there' s no need to call me Highness. All my ladies-in-waiting address me as Frigga, just as I call you by your first names," Frigga quickly explained her laughter, so as not to make her new lady of the court too insecure, which worked less well than she had hoped, because Sigyn only nodded reluctantly. She would get better, Frigga was convinced of that, it would only take time.

"I just wanted to let you know that it is understandable that you miss your family. No one expects you to love the palace and the life here from the very beginning. But your grief will pass," the queen promised softly and in a gentle tone, knowing that these words brought little comfort, but also that they were true.

Swallowing, her eyebrows slightly pulled together and her fingertips clasped together in her lap, Sigyn murmured questioningly, "How do you know I miss my brothers and sisters so much?", her voice becoming quieter with each word and she felt increasingly stupid.

It was probably impossible to miss the fact that she did not feel comfortable, probably her sorrow could be seen from far away. In the end Sigyn also didn't do much to hide her misery and she suddenly felt bad. She should really try harder to appear at least a little satisfied, a little grateful for this chance.

But right now everything was still too new for her to accept it and try to fit in. And one could certainly tell by looking at her. By Frigga's kind, but still amused smile, Sigyn was able to sense that it indeed must have been easy for her to guess the thoughts of her new lady-in-waiting, and with a sigh she returned the queens smile, unsure what else to do.

For a few moments the women looked at each other, then Frigga rose with a deep exhalation and turned to Sigyn with a gallant movement. Invitingly, she held out a hand to Sigyn and, at her confused expression, said, "I want to show you something. You'll like it". Quietly the queen waited until her hand was taken timidly. She helped the younger woman up, then gently released her hand and made her way back to the palace.

With interlaced fingers Sigyn followed the queen, walked silently beside her and looked up at the golden monster in front of them, which now housed her home. "You'll get used to the palace, too" Frigga assured and Sigyn wondered how she knew what was going on in her mind again. Was she that transparent? Or did the queen just have a good sense for her surroundings?

Sigyn wasn't sure, but she didn't ask the question either. Instead, she quietly entered the palace and wanted to know, "Where are we going?" because she was uncomfortable with surprises. "To the library."

Sigyns heart stopped for a moment and she could only manage a tiny nod.

Why only a library? She couldn't even read properly. She knew only a few letters, but far too few to make sense of words. What was she supposed to do in a library? She had never been taught to read, and she could hardly write either. Her heart started beating fast and it tightened her throat.

What would the queen think if she learned that the lady-in-waiting she had chosen could not read? That her choice was a stupid, illiterate woman who did not understand even the simplest words once they were written on paper?

Deep shame crept over Sigyn and her chest hurt. The queen had surely learned how to read as a little girl, probably everyone at court could read, every single one of them. Only she could not.

"Books are a good distraction. They often help me when I get too lost in my own thoughts. And stories help to not feel alone for the moment. You'll see," Frigga continued, making Sigyns breath quiver with every word and her fingers tremble: "We have thousands and thousands of books, you'll find one you like for sure".

Sigyn probably should have told her. Should have explained at that moment that there never had been money or enough time for someone to teach her and that she couldn't read a single word. But Sigyn remained silent. Her shame kept her from talking. The thought of having to admit that she could not read scared her. What would they think of her? That stupid, ignorant woman from the city? Slowly, her hands became clammy.

"I guess I will" Sigyn clearly agreed with the queen, and perhaps it was also a little bit her pride, that forbid her to admit that she could not understand a book. Even if she should have.

As inconspicuously as possible, Sigyn glanced to the side, at Friggas face, to see if she had noticed what was going on inside her, but she just looked straight ahead and kept a fine smile on her lips. Frigga probably hadn't noticed her slight panic, and so they kept walking without Sigyn raising her voice. She thought the whole time about how stupid it was that she didn't tell the queen about her problem, but on the other hand she was sure that nothing would happen. After all, Sigyn wouldn't have to read out loud to anyone and as long as she was only supposed to read for herself, she could just pretend to read... Right? No one would notice, and Frigga wouldn´t have to know about her illiterate court lady.

Despite her slight doubts, as to whether it was wise to hide something like that, Sigyn kept her secret and also didn't talk about her inability to read when they reached the big doors of the library. Only her trembling got worse along with her feeling of shame.

~ ~

When the doors of the library suddenly opened, Loki was torn from his thoughts.

Surprised, because at this time no one else but him usually entered the library, he looked up from the book, which was open in his hands, but he didn't actually read anyway, to turn his eyes to the entrance. He was almost expecting a guard to come in to bring him to his father or remind him of his obligations, or perhaps even, somewhere deep in his heart, he expected his brother to come looking for him, but instead his mother entered the hall striding. Her footsteps weren't the only ones he heard though.

Shortly afterwards, his mother was followed by a second, tall woman with long, reddish-brown hair and a light-blue dress, which stood out softly against the dark, rather brown background of the library. They both walked towards one of the bookshelves and although they whispered, Loki heard his mother say, "Take whatever book you like. Reading will take your mind to other things Sigyn, you'll see and besides, you'll have your peace here".

Just a moment ago he had watched the two of them with almost some interest, but now Loki turned his eyes back to his book in disgust. Sigyn. So the other female was the new lady-in-waiting. From the city. Riffraff that would now settle down in the palace without working for it. Although he didn't want to, he couldn't prevent his eyes from turning to her a second time. Well, he thought, at least she wasn't dirty.

In fact, she made a rather decent appearance. Her hair held together by a ribbon, a fine dress that lay against her body and clean skin. But what did he expect? Of course, the court ladies were dressed up, who knew what she looked like before, when she had lived in the city? And anyway, that didn't change the fact that she was living in the palace without any work or title at all, almost as well as the royal family itself. He snorted pejoratively, but also tiredly, whereupon Sigyn and his mother both turned to him.

Immediately, Loki turned his attention back to the book, of which he began to skim a few random lines, briefly blanking out his surroundings.

Only when footsteps could be heard directly in front of him did he raise his head again and saw his mother standing before him. In the background the new court lady was still standing at the shelves and looking at books. Lokis gaze glided to Friggas, who smiled lovingly at him as usual, giving him a stab in the heart that he didn't show.

"I hope you don't mind us passing by. I know how much you like to have the library to yourself, but I wanted to show it to Lady Sigyn," his mother explained and Loki shook his head: "That's all right, Mother. After all, the library is not mine alone," before he sat up more in the chair and raised his chin. He forced a cramped smile on his lips to cover up how much he disliked being disturbed in the first place, but also especially being disturbed by the new lady-in-waiting.

Frigga nodded and whispered softly to her son so Sigyn wouldn't hear it: "I have to go now. The other ladies-in-waiting are certainly waiting for me, but I would like to leave Sigyn more time in the library, that's something she needs. That is why she will stay".  

Unwillingly Loki closed his book, felt the smooth paper and kept silent for a moment, only to speak again after a short silence: "Then she will stay" as if it was his decision. He couldn't tell his mother that he didn't want her around, because it still wasn't his library and besides, his mother seemed to like this Sigyn. He could tell by her smile and the satisfied expression on her face.

Frigga put her hands together with a silent clap, nodded at Loki and then fell into a stern tone: "She already knows who you are, but I still want you to introduce yourself to her as you should".

Her son gave a nod, but she studied his features a little longer to make sure he was serious, then walked past him to the second exit of the library and stopped halfway there: "Oh and Loki? Could you give me back the book I gave you yesterday? I need it one more time for my studies and knowing you, I'm sure you've almost finished reading it," she asked and if he had looked up at her, he would have noticed her knowing gaze, but as he kept staring at the book in front of him, he didn't notice when he lied: "I'm almost finished with the book. Tonight I will bring it to you mother".

The queen stood still for a little longer, watched her youngest son worriedly and then looked at Sigyn, who was still walking along the front bookshelf, and finally turned around and left the library. On her way out, a narrow, barely visible smile stretched across Frigga's lips.

~ ~

How long could she possibly walk along the bookshelf and pretend to read book titles before it became suspicious because she chose no book?

Shakily breathing, Sigyn followed the line of the bookshelf.

The queen had left her alone here and Sigyn didn't know if that was good or bad. On the one hand, it was good, because the chance Frigga would notice that she couldn't read was much lower this way, but on the other hand it was bad, because she felt especially insecure all by herself. Particularly considering the fact that a stranger, a man was sitting on the edge of the hall in a chair and that this man was also a prince.

Would he notice that she could not read? Her heart went faster again immediately, but fortunately he seemed to have very little interest in her at the moment, as absorbed as he seemed in his reading. The prince did not pay any attention to her at all, which gave her the opportunity to look at him undisturbed.

His clothes were all black and green, and unlike Frigga and Prince Thor, his hair was coal-black, but his skin was much lighter and milkier. When he suddenly looked up, Sigyn turned back to the bookcase and pulled out a book to look busy and not as if she had just stared at him, even though she had done just that.

Had he noticed?

Sigyn concentrated on the book she had taken. The cover was dark red and on the leathery corners it had golden ornaments that almost looked like roses and shone brightly in the light. Of course, she couldn't read the title, although it was there in beautiful, curved letters. Only the first and fourth signs looked familiar to her and because it was the first book she had found that had at least something familiar about it, and because it was the most beautiful one she had seen so far, she decided to take a closer look at it.

To continue searching for books didn't make sense in the end anyway, since she didn't know what the titles were saying or what the books were all about. And Prince Loki seemed to be so absorbed in his book that he certainly wouldn't notice that she wasn't actually reading anyway, but only pretending to.

Besides, Frigga had brought her here, and she couldn't just leave again. Although it would probably still have been the smartest thing to go to the queen and confess her illiteratance, but the very idea made Sigyns cheeks blush in shame.

Doing this was absolutely out of the question.

Instead, Sigyn took the red book in a tighter grip and then looked around for a seat. The closest one to her were the chairs next to the one Prince Loki was sitting in, which made her hesitate. However, she did not see any other chairs or benches and she did not want to wander around the library hall, which seemed huge.

So, swallowing, she walked towards him, her steps a little shaky, holding her breath and then sat down gently on a chair a little further away from him, its cushion yielding gently under her. Carefully she looked over at him. Fortunately, her gaze was not returned. So at least he did not look at her anymore. That made it more comfortable for her. A little. Should she speak to him?

It seemed rude not to say anything, but her throat was tight and she couldn't think of anything to say. Her fingers trembled a little as she opened the book and went to page one. Suddenly she wished Frigga would come back.

Maybe she felt alone and small and unimpressive in the presence of the queen, but at least she felt welcome. Here, at this moment, sitting next to the silent prince and holding a book in her hands of which she understood nothing, she also felt stupid and a bit unwanted. Almost helpless.

Sigyn tried to ignore Loki and looked at the runes on the paper which were forming words through confusing lines. Here and there a sign seemed familiar to her, sometimes she even knew how it was pronounced, but it was not enough to understand anything.

She turned to page two and found another riddle in front of her, which actually wasn't one. Her heart was beating loudly and she could only hope that she was the only one who heard it. What if Frigga found out one day that she couldn't read after all? That would be embarrassing. But admitting it right now was embarrassing, too. She would have loved to give a frustrated sigh, but remained silent and tried to look interested in the book, not paying attention to what Loki was doing.

It was probably also better for her nerves that she didn't look at the black-haired man, because then she would have noticed that he observed her again.

Over the two empty chairs that separated them, he watched Sigyn with a slight sideways glance. His fingers stroked softly across the open book in his hands and his elbows rested on the armrests.

Suspiciously, he looked at her face, her straight nose, her high but soft cheekbones and especially her eyes, which flitted strangely across the pages of the book. Loki's gaze fell briefly on the book she had chosen and then went back to her eyes.

She did not read.

It did not take him a second to realize this. Her eyes flew over the written letters and she kept turning the pages, but he could clearly see that she was not really reading. Her eyes did not follow the rows of the signs, sometimes she looked at runes at the bottom of the page and then again at runes at the top. Sometimes she stared for ages at one heel and the next, which was almost as long, she only paid attention for a few blinkers.

The longer he watched her, the more he noticed. She also turned the pages at completely different intervals, although he could see that there was almost the same amount of text on all of them. For some pages she needed several minutes and for others hardly a moment.

Loki almost laughed out loud because it was so ridiculous. Why was she doing that? What did she want to achieve with it?

"What are you reading?" he asked, enjoying Sigyns flinching and the slight panic that suddenly came over her. He already knew what was going on, but he wanted to be sure.

Sigyn, who was a little overwhelmed, since she didn't know what she was reading, hesitated for a moment and then closed the book and turned the cover to the prince so he could see the title, hoping that that would be enough for him.

A mocking smile ran across Lokis features during her action. Foolish woman.

He read the title, 'The Flora Vanaheims', and then leaned back in his chair before he looked at her questioningly and said, "Good choice. Are you interested in different types of swords?". Although he was already aware that his ruse would work, he had to hold back a loud laugh when Sigyn nodded after a short hesitation: "A little".

Foolish woman. Who did she think she could fool with her cheap game?

She had no idea what the book was about. So it wasn't that she just didn't want to read, no, she couldn't read at all to begin with. The new lady-in-waiting couldn't read. No wonder. She still was a random woman from the city. She might not have been dirty, but she still couldn't read. Pitiful.

With a scornful grin Loki stood up and said a short goodbye to Sigyn: "It was nice to meet you Lady Sigyn" and even she heard the sarcasm in his voice that sent a cold shiver down her spine and left her breathing trembling.

Without waiting for an answer Loki left the library with fast, smooth movements, while his mind was full of what he just had discovered.

She could not even read. By the Norns, what had been let into the palace? Even the lowest servants understood the runes, and now there was a lady-in-waiting in the palace who could not. How miserable.

And above all, she had lied. He was sure that she had not mentioned anything to his mother. Unable to read, and a liar to boot. Loki gave a pejorative snort as he walked down the hall to his chambers. His heart ached strangely at his hateful thoughts, but he ignored that and kept walking.

His mother would find out what kind of person she had brought into her home soon. He would make sure of it.

~ ~

Tired, Frigga shook her hands and put the feather aside.

It was already quite late in the evening, and she had spent a while putting her signature on important letters that needed her own signature as well as the signature of the Allfather. Letters of orders to her servants, instructions to the town administrators and political letters to Vanaheims ruling house.

Just as she was about to get up and leave her desk, there was a knock at the door to her chambers. Odin, who was sitting diagonally behind her at the window and was studying a map, looked up and finally responded to the knocking with a "Come in".

Immediately the door opened and Loki entered, a book under his arm and with a sour expression on his face. He gave his father a nod, who then turned back to the map and then approached his mother, held the book out to her and stopped next to the desk: "The book you wanted back".

The queen glanced briefly at the title and then nodded: "Ah yes, the book. I thank you for bringing it to me", before she took the book from her son and put it on the table. Smiling, she looked back at Loki, who continued to stand with her, and by the way one of his little fingers twitched, she knew there was another reason why he had come to her chambers. Lovingly, Frigga reached for his hand, whereupon Lokis reflexively flinched, and without a comment about that, she asked, "What else do you want to tell me, Loki?".

The young mans gaze clung to that of his mother, and he remained silent a little longer, keeping the expression of indifference on his face, and then said in a bitter voice, "She's lying to you. Sigyn. Your new lady-in-waiting is lying to you". Friggas eyebrows and the corners of her mouth slightly raised: "Oh really? What is she lying to me about?"

"She can't read. She didn't tell you, did she?"

A soft sigh came over Friggas lips, and she turned back to her desk to take the letters that were lying there to arrange them in her hands: "No, she didn't tell me, you're right, but I already know it though" she explained easily.

Loki put his hands together behind his back: "No one lies to a queen! Especially not one of her ladies-in-waiting," he tried to make his problem clear, but Frigga just nodded.

"She is not lying to hurt me. She just feels uncomfortable because she can't read, and she doesn't want to let me know because she thinks I might think she's stupid and find her to be ridiculous. And as long as she is new in the palace and feels uncomfortable here, I will do nothing to increase her discomfort. I won't address her on her illiteracy".

Slowly Lokis lips became a thin line and he pressed his hands tightly together, so that his knuckles turned white. How could his mother be so unconcerned about being lied to by a court lady? "Well, so you don't care that she lied to you... but she still can't read," he continued, unwilling to give up his position. This Sigyn did not belong in the palace.

Inside, Frigga groaned as she put aside a few letters: "No, no, she can't."

"But-" Loki began, who was gradually losing his patience. How could his mother not see what he saw? Why didn't she care? "She is a lady-in-waiting... What kind of court lady can't read?"

Quietly, Frigga put all the letters aside and turned to her stubborn son with a tilted head: "If it is such a problem for you that she cannot read, why don't you teach her? You could teach her secretly without her knowing that I know about it. Then she would not have to be ashamed and would not lie to me anymore once she is able to read."

For a moment there was complete silence. Lokis mouth opened in shock and his face became an expression of outrage. Some seconds long he wasn't even sure if he had heard correctly, because what his mother was suggesting couldn't be meant seriously.

"I should teach her to read? No way!" it then came loudly from his throat and he could hardly keep his anger under control. He wasn't a teacher for runaway subjects, was he? He was a prince, a member of the royal family! "But I would be glad if you would do it. You are a good teacher."

"I will not do it. Never!"

"Then I will make it to one of your obligations. Teach her to read" Frigga ended the conversation strictly and saw the anger on Lokis face, which for the first time in weeks showed something else than cold indifference and paleness.

For a moment, the queen thought Loki was going to respond, but then suddenly, he just turned around on his heels and marched to the door, which he ripped open as briskly as he closed it.

Frigga, and Odin as well, both looked at the door and she breathed out with a sigh when the Allfather said: "Don't you think this might be a bit too harsh? After all, he is a prince. Princes do not teach their servants to read. There are plenty teachers we could hire for your court lady".

Rolling her eyes slightly, she stood up: "No, that is just right. Trust me" and walked over to him, stroking his hair back behind his ear. "If you say so" Odin replied and while she sat down next to him on the bench and untied the tight knot in her hair, she looked at the door. She knew that Loki hated her right now. Probably he was running along the corridor and cursing her in defiance.

And yet a smile came over her lips.

Everything would come together as it needed to.