#yes he romances saffron

[skyhighchibi]

@minikyutie @cheeseandcake-from-ao3

what if we…. shipped our ocs together………  haha just    kidding..                               unless…? 

[taevbears]

Magic Shop - 10

As the only non-magical being in a shop full of mages and familiars, Seokjin is starting to feel left out.

⤑ pairing: OT7 x witch!reader, Seokjin focused ⤑ genre: magic au, romance, angst, hurt/comfort, found family, domestic/slice of life, action/adventure ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 11.1k ⤑ warnings: smut (penetrative), implied smut, verbal sexual harassment, mentions of attempted sexual assault, oppression of mages, implied shady business dealings, probable inaccuracies with 92 liners, mentions of violence ⤑ note: welcome back to pt. 2 of the series! it's finally fall, and it feels good to be writing for this story again, especially with spooky season around the corner. each member will have 2 chapters dedicated to them, making this part twice as long as pt. 1 lol. happy reading, and i'd love to hear your thoughts about this chapter!

Chapters: Series ML | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Dear Mother and Father,

Seokjin pauses as he stares at the line he just wrote. It looks too formal, even with his own eyes.

I’m sure the news about Blackstone Castle has already reached our village by now. You both must be very worried about me. But I’m writing to let you know that your youngest son is alive and well.

More than well, he thinks, as he looks at the morning crowd before him.

The kitchen is busy like it usually is at this time. Hoseok is roasting coffee beans over a magical fire, extracting sweet and nutty aromas that fill the room. Yoongi is standing next to him, frying eggs and bacon into a pan. The sizzle and pop of smoky meat against oil makes Seokjin’s mouth salivate in hunger. Namjoon and Jungkook are checking inventory together, making a list of what things they need to pick up on their next trip to the market.

“What’s wrong, hyung? You’re making a face,” Jungkook points out.

The mage is frowning down at the list and rubs his neck like he’s stressed. But he shakes his head and tells Jungkook, “I’m just wondering if we need this much saffron? What are we even using it for?”

“Yes! I need it!” Hoseok answers, poking his head up to look Namjoon in the eye. “It’s for my potions! Don’t forget it!”

“It’s so expensive,” Namjoon blanches. Seokjin can’t help but notice that he looks a bit stressed again as he continues reading down the list.

“Taehyung, don’t you dare!” you shriek, grabbing everyone’s attention as you back away from the raven familiar. “Your hands are still wet!”

A deep, evil chuckle rumbles from his chest as he slowly advances toward you. He holds up his hands, water dripping from washing dishes over the sink. “Darling, I just want a hug.”

“No!” you yell, ducking away when he tries to grab you.

Neither Yoongi nor Hoseok is phased as the two of you run past them. They simply step aside, using magic to levitate utensils and ingredients upward so that you don’t knock them over.

You run straight to Jungkook, who’d do anything for you in a heartbeat. The toad familiar has you in his arms for a few seconds, seeing you plead for his help like a damsel in distress. That gets him to puff up his chest, bravely putting himself between you and Taehyung.

Little do you know, an enemy is nearby. Namjoon, who likes to tease you as well, tosses the list aside and grabs a hold of you. “I got her, Taehyung!”

“Traitor! I’ll make you pay!” you vow, even though his dimpled smile easily melts your heart. Seokjin blinks at the discarded list on the ground.

“Don’t fight,” Hoseok warns as he finishes making his coffee. He pours the dark liquid into several mugs. “It’s too early in the morning to be threatening each other.”

Yoongi looks over at you all, checking to see if you’re okay. Jungkook yells and jumps back when Taehyung tries to wipe his wet hands on the front of his shirt. Distracted, the toad hybrid doesn’t see the raven hybrid shift and fly over his head until he lands back on his feet as a human right in front of you. And, like the menace he is, wipes his hands on both you and Namjoon.

“Taehyung, why can’t you use a towel to wipe your hands?” you complain as he cackles in laughter. Seokjin stands up from the table and picks up the list for inventory.

“You know how when a cat brushes up against you, it’s like saying ‘you’re mine’?” he asks you, throwing a wink when you catch on. Followed by Hoseok’s loud teasing as Yoongi suddenly avoids eye contact with you and states that breakfast is ready.

A typical, noisy morning at the shop.

Becoming a warden has its challenges. You have to be up at the crack of dawn. The food they serve us tastes bland. Routine shifts are mundane and unchanging. They have daily reminders from the Devoted about how mages are cruel and evil, and how the wardens are heroes by keeping them locked away. Some of the wardens let that get in their heads, and they end up not being very nice people. Then, you go to bed by curfew and do the same thing all over again. It’s quite the thrilling life.

Seokjin scoffs.

In hindsight, his duties as a warden all sound like bullshit. The lies that the Devoted feed about mages and magic are far from the truth.

“That’s hardly fair.”

“Maybe you should’ve gone with a different color.”

“I bet he’ll look good no matter what color we pick.”

The three mages of the shop – you, Namjoon, and Hoseok – are baffled and scratching your heads. In an act of revenge for the chaos this morning, the three of you decided to team up and change Taehyung’s hair.

Into a vibrant blue.

The raven familiar smirks at his reflection on the mirror and looks at you three. “Don’t I look good like this, though?”

In seconds, the three of you huddle together for a new game plan. Hoseok is the first to point out, “I don’t think this is going to work, guys. He’s too handsome.”

Namjoon nods his head in agreement. “Yeah, he’s like Jin-hyung.”

“Me?” Seokjin asks, somehow finding himself included in the huddle.

“I could turn your hair baby pink and you’ll still be the most handsome person in the world,” you tell him, quite serious in light of the gravity of your situation. You don’t seem to notice the redness in Seokjin’s ears from your compliment.

The three of you – talented and skilled with magic – are deemed as threats, even if you’d never use your magic for evil. Hoseok is a potion master who brews concoctions in coffees and teas that add a bit of hope in each cup. Namjoon, who studies the history of the arcane arts and runes, uses that knowledge to write and collect interesting trinkets to decorate the shop. And you, the spell caster, who could incantate charms and hexes effortlessly, only use your abilities to protect the shop, help the people you care about, and occasionally turn one of their hairs into a color of the rainbow.

The Devoted has warned that mages like you bewitch mortals to do your will, host bloody sacrifices, shed the lives of innocents, and commit cardinal sins with demons in exchange for power.

These days, however, the three of you use magic to prank each other or one of the familiars.

“Guess you’ll have to come up with something else.” Taehyung shrugs, suddenly next to you in the circle, catching you all off guard.

I’ve managed to survive the mage rebellion with just a scratch. You raised a pro after all. An apprentice got a hold of a summoning book. He convinced others to form a mutiny, and it backfired badly. He became a monster, burdening all the pains and sorrows that he and the others have carried. That night was the scariest night of my life. I still have nightmares about it.

Seokjin stares at his reflection in the mirror. It’s been several months since the night you all fled from Blackstone Castle together, but the ugly scar on his torso is a fresh reminder of what had happened.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper every time you see it. “I should’ve gotten to you sooner.”

“You saved me just in time,” Seokjin assures you, trying not to shiver when he feels your fingers carefully trace the textured skin. It’s not as bad as before, but it’s still there. It’s still visible.

As the day comes to an end, you always check on each of them. The vibrant blue fades from Taehyung’s hair and you apologize. He says he’ll forgive you if you kiss him, and he’s reluctant to let you go when you do. All day, Yoongi seems avoidant, trying not to brush up against you, probably because of what Taehyung said that morning. But you assure him that you don’t mind, wrapping your arms around him yourself as he seems to ease into your touch. You check with the others too, though you’re always adamant to check on Seokjin.

And Seokjin knows why. Even if you never tell him.

You’re frowning, fixated on the scar. No amount of healing magic that you know could make it go away completely.

He glances at you and then back at the mirror. “I suppose this makes me a little less handsome, doesn’t it?”

“Of course not.”

Since the castle is no longer standing, I’ve moved into a nearby town. I spend my days happily now. No rules or duties to be obliged to. No pressure to conform to beliefs I don’t agree with. I’m only human. I’m lacking in a lot of ways that my housemates aren’t, but I found a family here, and it just keeps growing.

“Ow, ow, ow,” you cry mournfully, sticking out your aching tongue, and set a cup of hot tea on the coffee table. “I think I burned myself.”

Jimin turns to you with a sympathetic smile, but there’s a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Want me to kiss it better?”

He bursts into laughter when he receives his answer through a playful smack.

Your neighbor across the street comes more often these days, welcomed into the shop like another member of the coven. Except, when he’s around, the magic is hidden. No spellcasting, no shifting between forms, no sudden changes of hair colors.

To Jimin, you’re probably all just ordinary people who live together and work together in an inconspicuous, unassuming shop. And perhaps, the only strangest thing is your relationship with each of them.

Seokjin has to admit, even if he knows that relationships for mages differ from what is traditional by the Devoted, it takes time to get used to. He’s only gone as far as kissing you, but some of the others, including Jimin, have gone much further with you.

It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it. He just hasn’t found the right time to bring it up to you. Or the right place.

Seokjin eyes the way Jimin casually has his arm around the back of the couch behind you. He doesn’t seem put off when Hoseok comes to sit on your other side, holding his own cup of hot tea in his hands, practically making heart-eyes at you when you turn to talk to him. Or that any of the other residents are lingering in the parlor nearby, with Yoongi and Jungkook sitting on the small bench in front of the piano and playing a random melody, Taehyung taking a seat next to Jimin as he plays a board game with Namjoon, or Seokjin still trying to write a letter to his parents.

In fact, Jimin takes the whole polyamorous aspect of his relationship with you better than most people who’ve been raised by the Devoted teachings would.

Seokjin looks around the room and smiles softly to himself. With the eight of you all together, a full house just hanging out, it feels complete. He can tell that the other residents feel that way too with how at ease they are with Jimin around, despite him not knowing the truths about what you guys really are.

As the only other human in a room full of mages and familiars, Seokjin wonders if Jimin feels that sense of belonging too. And how he’ll react once he knows the truth.

There’s also this girl I met since I left home. She’s smart, brave, beautiful, and diligent. I think you guys would like her a lot. I feel like I fall in love with her more each day.

“What are you writing?”

Seokjin jumps and hunches over his paper, nearly spilling ink all over. Just as he’s started writing about you, you appear beside him. “A letter.”

“Oh? You have a secret lover I should be worried about?” you tease, placing your hand on your hip for emphasis.

���Well, you know,” he plays along. “Worldwide handsome, and all.”

“Of course. How could I forget?” Affectionately, you run your fingers through his bangs, exposing his forehead. His hair has been growing longer. At the castle, they routinely had to keep it short and clean. But now, after several months of no haircut, he may have to make use of the kitchen scissors and the bathroom mirror. “How did I get so lucky to have someone as handsome as you, Seokjin?”

“I’m the lucky one,” he replies, grinning at the shy smile you give him. “I’m actually trying to write to my parents. Let them know that I’m alive and doing well. With the way word spreads around, I’m sure they know about … you know.”

“Yeah,” you trail off with a small grimace. The fall of Blackstone Castle has also brought in many hunters into the nearby towns. It’s a constant worry for all of you that they might stumble into the shop one day, even if it’s located in the quieter side of town.

Seokjin tries to change the topic. “I’d love to introduce you to them. My family, I mean.”

“Would they like me?”

“Of course they will. They’ll probably ask when I’ll—” He cuts himself off.

“Ask you what?”

“They’ll probably ask when I’ll marry you.”

“Oh.”

Marriage is a sacred commitment to the Devoted. For mages, however, such a union simply doesn’t exist. They have their partners; they have their coven. But when magic is deemed evil, and those who wield it are treated as vermin, love in any form would be shunned and discouraged.

Seokjin sees the guilt flicker in your eyes. The way you nervously chew on your bottom lip, trying to carefully place your next words.

Truth is, Seokjin could walk out anytime he wanted. From you, from the shop. He’s not a warden anymore. He doesn’t have any ties or duties keeping him with you. He could find another partner, someone he could legally marry, and start a normal family. It’s safer if he would. But it’s foolish if he did. 

“You know that stuff doesn’t matter to me, right?” he asks you seriously. “You're my partner. The others are our family. I wouldn’t change it any other way.”

“If you ever change your mind…”

“I won’t. I promise.” He’s so certain, he holds his pinky toward you. Perhaps it’s a bit silly and childish, but it gives you the assurance you need. “I love you. I’ll always choose you. Nothing will ever change that.”

You smile softly and wrap your pinky around his finger. You return the sentiment in whispered words as he brings your hand closer to his and kisses your knuckles.

She’s everything to me. I wish you could meet her one day and see it for yourself.

Mornings are Seokjin’s favorite time of the day.

Usually.

He’s not a big fan of a neighbor’s rooster and its insistent crowing at 3:00AM. On the dot. Every single morning. He’s even less of a fan when, only a couple hours later, just as dawn is beginning to break, Seokjin hears it again at 5:00AM. Screaming at the top of its lungs over a slither of sunlight in the sky. And by 7:00AM, when it cries out the third time, it takes every fiber in Seokjin’s being not to stomp over, grab the rooster, and toss it in the air out of spite.

He also dislikes having to actually leave the safe and warm sanctuary of his bed. Where he’s cozy and comfortable beneath his thick blanket, and the mattress and pillows feel like he’s on a cloud. Where his favorite, long pajamas feel soft against his skin. But with a long list of tasks ahead of him, he reluctantly and mournfully pushes away the covers, shivers as the cold morning air sucks away the warmth, and begins to dress up for the day.

Otherwise, it wouldn’t be long until he hears the small creak of someone entering his bedroom. The breathy chuckles that escape his lips as he tries to hold back his giggles. Followed by the unmistakable whisper of, “Jin.”

“No, Hoseok, you can’t.”

And Hoseok would burst into loud laughter, hitting the lump that’s Seokjin beneath his covers, and ask, “Oh, hyung! How did you know it was me?”

Despite how he actually wakes up that day, mornings are relatively peaceful. Most of the residents are still asleep, and sometimes, he can hear Namjoon or Jungkook still snoring from their rooms. Candles automatically light up down the hallway of mixed doors, guiding him down the stairs and to the kitchen.

And that’s where you are, bright and early.

Or rather, these days, as Yoongi had quietly confided in him, because you haven’t been sleeping well. Nightmares, the black cat had explained.

“Hey, morning,” Seokjin greets you as you rummage around the kitchen, pulling out jars and pans as if it’ll inspire you to cook.

“Morning, Jin. What do you want for breakfast?” When you turn to him, he can see the tiredness in your face. Your eyes are a bit red, your posture more sluggish.

“I can do it,” he assures you, taking a pan from your hand before you drop it. You let him and instead, use your free hand to cover a big yawn. Even when you’re on the brink of passing out, Seokjin finds you cute. “Did you sleep last night?”

“Barely.”

“Because of that damn rooster?”

“Yeah,” you lie. Seokjin knows you don’t want to talk about the nightmares you’ve been having. Not even to Yoongi or Hoseok. 

But Seokjin sees the way you look at him. The relief that crosses your face when you see him, the guilt that follows after when your eyes trail to where his scar is. There’s an apology in your tongue, but before it could escape your lips, he jokes, “Maybe we should have that rooster for breakfast.”

“I don’t think our neighbor would like that,” you point out with a small smile. 

He returns your smile as he decides to make eggs and bread. But his smile fades when he notices that there’s less ingredients in stock than usual, even though Namjoon and Jungkook had just gone to the market yesterday. Did they not get enough?

“Our finances are low,” Namjoon reveals when Seokjin asks him about the lack of ingredients later that afternoon. As mages, it’s easier to get by, and the shop has always been more of a home than a business. But coin is still needed to buy fresh ingredients, to maintain amenities, and to keep the shop running.

Namjoon looks stressed. The human world and its standards are still new concepts to you and Hoseok, and Seokjin can tell that Namjoon doesn’t want either of you to worry. He’ll buy fewer eggs if he can get Hoseok his saffron. He’ll get cheaper quality meat, even if Jungkook complains that he can’t fork it. He’ll pick tangerines and strawberries himself if that’ll make Yoongi and Taehyung happy. He’ll pass up on a book or rune that he wants so he can get you something nice instead.

Seokjin glances over at you. You’re finally asleep, resting on the couch with Hoseok. One of his arms is protectively around your waist as he rubs soothing circles down your back and shoulders. Taehyung comes to put a blanket over you, and he’s careful not to wake you as he gently pats your head.

Clearly, you have a lot of things on your mind lately. 

“Hyung will do it,” Seokjin assures him, even if he doesn’t really know how. He’s only human. But he’ll find a way.

Seokjin knows you’re home when Yoongi, who’s been napping all afternoon, suddenly springs to life and meows impatiently at the door. It’s as if he’s saved up all his energy just to be the first to greet you hello when you step in.

Followed by the pattering of feet as Taehyung exclaims, “You’re home!”

And by the time Seokjin gets to you, you’re sandwiched between the two youngest and carrying Yoongi in your arms.

“Guys, let her breathe,” Namjoon lightly scolds Taehyung and Jungkook. As if the others aren’t also coming to the door to welcome you home like a bunch of puppies.

Seokjin manages to slip by your side as you take off your shoes. “How’s my favorite mage? Did you have fun with Jimin?”

“I had a good time. It was busy at the town square,” you inform him, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek. His mouth twitches back a shy smile and a blush. “Jimin said a lot of guilds are open for new members at this time. So, there are a lot of recruiters trying to get people to sign up.”

“Ah, that’s what happened to me!” Jungkook pipes up, nostalgia of his former days as an adventurer flashing through his mind. “In my town, there’s a big bulletin board that people put fliers on when they need help. I used it to pick up odd jobs here and there, like taking care of a rat infestation or delivering a package to someone in another town. And one day, I saw a poster for a guild fair. I went, did some research by talking to people, and ended up joining one.”

“You could probably join one of the ones here, too,” Yoongi says after jumping out of your arms and shifting to his human form. His black hair is a bit messy from sleeping all afternoon.

“I want to so badly! But sometimes, missions could take days to complete, and I don’t know if I can hold this form for that long without changing.” 

Jungkook sighs. For a recently-turned familiar, he’s making great progress controlling his transformations. But it wouldn’t do his party any good if he were to turn back into a toad mid-battle.

“Maybe once we turn you human again, you can,” Namjoon suggests, patting his head with sympathy, as if it’ll be easy. As if there isn’t a powerful, Wicked ex-girlfriend trying to hunt Jungkook down.

Jungkook pouts but nods his head. “The guilds are nice, and New Haven is the perfect town for them. It’s a good way to earn coins, make new friends, go on adventures, strengthen your skills, and get useful information.”

“Coins?” Seokjin repeats. He doesn’t hear a single word after.

“Yeah. If you’re good, a lot of guilds give you big bonuses after a mission.”

“Coins,” Seokjin echoes, suddenly turning away from you, lost in thought.

You stare after him, mildly concerned. “Jin?”

It is, perhaps, a mere coincidence that Seokjin finds himself at the town square the very next day.

Colorful tents are lined up around the plaza. Recruiters are shouting in the streets and handing out fliers to whoever passes by their booths. Some members are putting on a show, displaying trophies of their latest hunts, dueling against each other with shiny new swords and shiny new armor, and waving their flags around as they boldly claim their guild is the best. Even people from out of town are gathered to check out the festivities. Every brave, adventure-seeking soul is hoping to find their place in one of the many guilds here.

“Hey, you’re strong and handsome,” the fourth recruiter of the day stops him. “Want to join our guild?”

“What do you guys do? And do you make a lot of coins?” Seokjin asks, a bit curious.

“Oh, of course! We do lots of stuff! We explore caves and old ruins to look for hidden treasures, slay large beasts that trouble the local folks, visit ports to trade goods with foreign investors, hunt mages— Hey, where are you going?”

Seokjin immediately loses interest and walks away. He sighs, wondering if there’s even a guild out there that doesn’t list mages as monsters.

“Let’s just go one more round,” Seokjin mutters to himself. If he doesn’t find anything good, he can always think of something else.

He tries to stop by each one, listening to their criteria and what they’re looking for in a new member, and asking what they do and how much they make. But the moment they mention hunting down mages, he quickly moves to the next table. He almost wants to just ask that one question – whether or not they hunt mages – but he isn’t sure how to bring it up without warranting suspicions.

“Hey there, handsome. Are you interested in joining our guild?” a female recruiter asks. She’s thin and pretty, and when she smiles, her front teeth poke out a bit like a bunny. She has the kind of smile that reminds him of Jungkook. “We still have a few spots open if you are.”

Seokjin tries not to sound jaded as he smiles back at her. “What do you do?”

“The typical stuff most guilds do,” she begins to explain, but is suddenly interrupted by a commotion near the booth.

“Have you gone mad?!” a man shouts, seeming to be talking to another recruiter. “Mages will kill us if we let them! What is this nonsense about allowing the likes of them into the Freelancers?”

“Are mages not human as well?” a young, charismatic man replies, seeming to stand firm with his stance. “They have unique abilities that could take us further in our adventures than we could ever imagine. Think about it! If someone in our party is injured, we could rely on magic instead of using up precious medical supplies. They could clear obstacles in forests and tunnels to complete the mission faster. We could defeat savage beasts more easily and efficiently with their aid!”

“Lies! That goes against everything the Devoted teaches” a woman accuses as the crowd around them murmur.

“Who is that?” Seokjin asks as people continue to argue with the man. But he and a couple others flanking his side have a rebuttal for each statement. It only riles the crowd up even more.

“His name is Tariq,” the female recruiter answers with a laugh. “You must be out of town. He’s infamous around New Haven.”

“I can see that,” he replies as he watches the debate. He’s half-surprised no one has accused him of being a mage-sympathizer yet.

“Tariq can be intense, but he’s the greatest strategist and fighter in New Haven,” she explains as if she’s read his mind. “His values don’t always align with the Devoted, but even the town leaders can’t deny how much they rely on him to protect the town. He’s cultivated his own following within the guilds too. Lots of people support and admire him, no matter how crazy his ideas can be.”

Just then, another man breaks through the crowd and grabs a hold of Tariq’s arm. “Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize on behalf of the Freelancers, but this debate is now over. Tariq will take some time to reflect on the concerns brought up today.”

“And that’s Adnan, his older brother,” she continues, nodding to the new guy that has pulled Tariq aside to scold him. “He’s the leader of the Freelancers, but the two of them couldn’t be any more different.”

“What are the Freelancers?” Seokjin asks, finally looking away from the two now that the crowd has begun to die down.

“That’s us,” she replies with a nervous laugh. “We’re a bit controversial, as you can see, but we firmly believe that anyone – even magic or not – will find a place in our guild.”

Seokjin nods his head and considers what she’s told him. He only has one question left. “Where do I sign up?”

In their glory days, the Freelancers were a powerful and ruthless mercenary group.

They were unlawful. A guild that got their start from handling odd jobs that couldn’t go through legal and official channels, and taking up difficult quests that other guilds didn’t find worth the effort to do themselves. Eventually, they became notorious for engaging in shady, cutthroat contracts such as back-door dealings and accepting secret fundings from nobility without honor or integrity.

With enough coin, there was no job that the Freelancers refused to take.

Recently, under the leadership of Adnan and Tariq’s great-grandfather, the Freelancers have more peaceful, quasi-honorable practices. His goal was to eradicate the guild’s notoriety and build a new legacy. In the eyes of the public, the Freelancers have now become the biggest and most reliable organization for quests and missions.

It’s a reputation that their father has upheld as well, accepting most people who were willing to join: men and women, nonbinary, wealthy nobles and poor peasants, skilled warriors with years of practice and those just looking to gain experience. However, as his reign comes to an end, the guild looks to his two sons for guidance.

Adnan, the oldest, plans to retain the current honorable methods that his family has instilled and follow the footsteps of their legacy. Accepting those willing to join their noble cause, offering new opportunities to their members to make extra coin, and taking righteous paths as instructed by the Devoted to thwart out evil from the town.

But Tariq, the younger and more charismatic brother, is ambitious and wants the guild to take on a more profitable, but shadier nature. It doesn’t matter to him if those who join are mages, demons, or monsters either, as long they’re on his side. Just as they did in their glory days before his great-grandfather.

Discourse between the two brothers and their sizable followings have been brewing within the guild. It’s a tension that’s been there long before Seokjin joins.

And it won’t be long until a clash of interest threatens the entirety of the Freelancers.

“Hyung, you joined a guild?” Jungkook exclaims, hopping after with excitement. “I’m so jealous! Which one is it?”

“They’re called the Freelancers,” Seokjin answers, showing the flier he received with the date and location of his first official meeting with them. “They’re the biggest guild in New Haven.”

Hoseok whistles. “That’s impressive! Congrats, Jin!”

“Hopefully this brings in more coins for us, too,” Seokjin adds as he looks at Namjoon. The recruiter told him they tend to get more quests than other guilds, especially with how famous the two brothers are. More quests mean more opportunity for coins.

Namjoon frowns a little. “Hyung, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” Seokjin assures him. “I want to be more useful to you guys and the shop. I think this is the best way I can do it.”

After all, Seokjin isn’t gifted with magic. He doesn’t have any affinity to the Veil or its mysterious realm. Seokjin is only human. But he’s a human who knows how to fight and take care of himself in battle.

“Wouldn’t that mean you won’t be home?” Yoongi asks him. A silence follows as the rest of you wait for his answer.

“Maybe from time to time. They’ll have me do local missions first before they send me off somewhere far,” Seokjin explains, sensing the uneasiness of that idea. “I’ll let you guys know when they do before I take the quest.”

“What about the shop?” Namjoon questions.

“I can do tasks for the guild in the morning, and help at the shop at night,” Seokjin decides, already putting that in consideration when he went to the fair. “That’s usually when the tavern is the busiest.”

“Wouldn’t you be tired?” Taehyung wonders out loud.

“I’ll do my best for both. Don’t worry.” Seokjin knows he’ll have a team to carry out missions with at the guild, and a family to rely on when he returns home. He turns to you, noting your silence. Gently, he takes your hand in his and presses, “Talk to me, sweetheart. What’s on your mind?”

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” you tell him, frowning as your gaze lingers down to his torso. To where his scar is. “What if something happens to you while you’re away? What if I can protect you?”

“I’ll be careful,” he assures you, pulling you into a hug. He understands your feelings. Truly, he does. But Seokjin has always been a dutiful and honorable man. And helping relieve some of the financial burdens from Namjoon is the least he could do. “Once my mission is over, you’ll be the first I run back to. Promise.”

Before he became a warden, Seokjin was a promising recruit. He’s self-disciplined, admirably hard-working, and spent extra time honing his skills to push himself a little further than his peers. While new recruits rested from their rigorous training, he’d be up a few hours earlier to practice with his word, to study how to disarm enemies, and to strengthen his mental fortitude.

It’s an attitude and passion that he’s carried as a new recruit to the Freelancers.

“Are you sure this is your first time joining a guild?” his mentor, Junghwan, asks him. He’s also fairly new to the guild, joining only six months prior to Seokjin. He’s been tasked to take him and the other new recruits on their first mission.

Bandits were blocking the main road into town and were scamming weary travelers of their coin.

Seokjin was able to coerce them off the road and to return the stolen coins. But when the bandits later came to ambush their group, his parrying skills in battle sent them away for good.

“It’s pretty fun,” Seokjin admits with a bashful smile. He feels good about his first small victory. And feels even better when the clerk at their guild pays him his reward.

Coins clatter on the counter as Seokjin dumps out his earnings for the week. “It’s not much now, but imagine how much more I can make if I take up more missions.”

“Wow, hyung…” Namjoon trails off, staring at the small pile. It’s enough to bring home the entire list of what everyone wanted, expensive saffron and all. “This would really help us out a lot.”

Seokjin smiles. “I think I could be really good at this.”

He hasn’t been in the guild for very long, but it’s everything he had hoped to have when he was a warden. That feeling of brotherhood among the members, from the throes of battle to the clinking mugs of cold ale. The small victories that lead to praise and coins. An outlet to constantly improve himself, make himself stronger, faster, and a better protector for you and the others.

“Joon, we’re out of eggs again,” you inform him, coming out of the kitchen to where they are. You’re about to ask if he can run to the market and get some more when you notice the shiny coins on the counter.

Seokjin smiles warmly at you. “I’ll buy you as many eggs as you want, beautiful.”

It isn’t long until Seokjin takes up more missions: investigate a caravan that was ambushed and report back with the news, explore a nearby cave and eradicate the giant spiders dwelling inside, find a specific blue flower that grows on the hillside of the woods and bring it to the requester. He climbs higher in ranks within the guild, already surpassing the initiates that joined when he had. Members of the Freelancers begin to take notice as well.

“What’s your name, son?” Adnan asks him at the guild’s mess hall, eyeing the young man before him.

“It’s Seokjin, sir.”

“Seokjin, huh.” He repeats his name and gives him an approving pat on the shoulder. “Keep up the good work, Seokjin.”

He feels his chest swell with pride. Receiving acknowledgement from the leader of the guild, especially one as big as the Freelancers, feels like a big deal.

“Hey, new guy, come sit with us!” a female member named Heeyeon calls out to him. Around them, other tables are discussing strategies, refueling on food and drinks, and sharing stories about their latest missions. Seokjin rarely stays at the guild’s base long enough to eat, usually running back to the shop as soon as a mission is complete. But he sees his mentor, Junghwan, sitting next to her, as well as the female recruiter that had signed him up. “I don’t know if you met everyone yet, but this is Byulyi, Sunwoo, Junghwan, and Jaehwan.”

Byulyi smiles when she recognizes him. “Hi Seokjin! Long time, no see. How do you like the Freelancers?”

“With the way he’s going, he’ll probably outrank his mentor in a month,” Sunwoo teases, elbowing Junghwan on the ribs. The two of them, Junghwan had mentioned, have come from the same hometown before they settled in New Haven.

“I’d believe that,” Jaehwan agrees, pointing out how he saw Adnan talking to him. He raises a glass to Seokjin with a bright smile. “I hope we can do missions together. It’s better when you’re with a team than by yourself.”

Seokjin returns the smile with a shy one of his own. “I think I’d like that.”

Jaehwan isn’t wrong. Turns out, picking up missions as a group is easier than doing them alone. There’s safety in numbers, and the variety of skills within the group work seamlessly on and off the field. Plus, it’s more fun with other people. A lot more fun.

Especially in a group as charming, good-looking, and funny as they are.

Team Kim Seokjin, as they have started to call themselves. Because after Seokjin joined their party, they’ve yet to fail a mission they’ve taken on.

By the time Seokjin arrives at the base in the morning, Byulyi already has a few quests lined up for them. She has a knack of finding ones that have a big payout, and once all members of their party arrive at the guild, they decide which ones they want to tackle for the day.

Sometimes, they’re easy tasks like reconnaissance, finding specific ingredients in the woods, or helping elderly townsfolk with hard labor. Other times, they’re more difficult like detaining a pick-pocketer from the marketplace, fighting off a dangerous wild cat from entering New Haven, or protecting goods from bandits while it’s being delivered to the next town.

Junghwan and Jaehwan instantly click with Seokjin. Between witty one-liners and endless puns, the three become fast friends. Seokjin can’t remember the last time he’s laughed so hard while on a job. Even Heeyeon, who is a little shy at first, warms up to him and shows her sillier side.

By the end of the day, it’s Sunwoo who turns in the mission reports to the pretty clerk he has a crush on. All of them work hard, deserving of the rewards they collect, and they divide the earnings of the day evenly between the six of them.

“Man, what a day.” Junghwan sighs, massaging his shoulder after another successful mission.

“I’m starving,” Byulyi states as she rubs her stomach. “Should we get something to eat before we head to the base?”

“That sounds good to me,” Jaehwan agrees, turning to face Seokjin. “Are you coming with us, Seokjin?”

“I can’t,” Seokjin replies with an apologetic smile. It’s getting late and you might need help at the shop. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“You always have somewhere to go,” Junghwan pouts, a bit disappointed that his new friend could never hang out after completing a mission. Most people in their guild like to celebrate their small victories by grabbing a drink and eating dinner together.

It isn’t like Seokjin doesn’t want to. He’s sure it’ll be fun, and he knows he’d have a great time with them.

But he has a promise to keep.

With a quick exchange of goodbyes and no hard feelings of missing out on another dinner with the group, Seokjin runs back to the shop. His legs are burning from being on his feet all day. He’s dirty and sweaty from the various tasks he’s been assigned for the day. But as the sun begins to dip below the horizon, coloring the sky in twilight, he nears the shop and sees you.

Occasionally, you’d be there to greet him in front of the shop. Sometimes, with a cup of tea and a book as one of the familiars sit on your lap or shoulder. Sometimes, you’re talking to Jimin as he waters the flowers sitting outside his shop. Or sometimes, like today, it’s just you.

The golden glow basks upon your skin as you sit on the porch steps, and all Seokjin can think about is how beautiful you look. No matter how difficult the mission is or how exhausted he feels, he remembers that he’s doing it for you.

When you notice him, a bright smile lights up on your face. “Jin! You’re back!”

And Seokjin feels himself falling in love with you all over again, laughing as he gathers you in his arms after a long day. “I’m home.”

Word about Team Seokjin and their success rate is spread around the Freelancers, and in no time, they become one of the most promising groups in the guild. Every mission they take on, they’ve completed and earned high praise from those they helped. Some clients even come back and specifically request them for another job.

Inevitably, this attracts the attention of Adnan and Tariq. Separately, the brothers have approached the group with special jobs. 

Adnan’s requests seem to fall in line with the Devoted’s charity work. Manpower to help at fundraising events, collecting donations of supplies and coins around town, finding a missing child from the town’s orphanage. Things that would normally make him feel good, if it weren’t for the magical hearsay they spew out at every event.

It's the opposite of the “no questions asked” missions that Tariq gives them. Delivering inconspicuous scrolls to certain individuals, dropping off packages at the back of bars and alleyway businesses, bringing in traitors who’ve gone rogue for Tariq’s men to deal with. No one in Team Seokjin wants bad blood in their hands, but with the reputation that Tariq has, it’s certain that he’s bound to have many enemies as well.

If they’re lucky, they can leave for a mission before either brother gives them one. They become increasingly more difficult and take up more time in his day, but all of them prefer choosing their adventures than to be stuck doing one of the brother’s favors.

And as always, after his missions, Seokjin goes straight home.

He’s dead on his feet as he changes clothes and throws on an apron, cooking at the busy tavern for the rest of the night. Yoongi has been helping him a lot too, taking over the kitchen when Seokjin isn’t there, and making sure that he isn’t burning anything or falling asleep when he is. Namjoon tries to talk him out of helping at the shop, worried that he’s pushing himself too hard, but Seokjin refuses to listen. Even Taehyung tries to block his path to the tavern and send him to bed instead.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Seokjin says as soon as he gets to the door. 

It’s another one of those days. A mission retrieving an old woman’s cat had Team Seokjin running around the entire town all day. After several close calls of getting his handsome face and long arms scratched, climbing up trees and rooftops, and losing sight of the little menace, the cat eventually went back on its own. The old lady gave them each an extra coin to show her appreciation.

There are a handful of customers in the shop: a small group of women that have been frequenting the parlor room to see the two youngest sing and play music, a couple guys that seem to be catching up and sharing drinks by the bar, and a few groups eating supper at the tables.

Jimin is there too, as he always is these days, clearly flirting with you while you’re trying to work. Your bashful smile at Jimin changes to one of delight when you finally see Seokjin. “You’re home! Welcome back!”

“Sorry, I got held up,” he explains when he gets to you, kissing your cheek.

“It’s okay. We got things covered,” you assure him, pulling up a chair in front of Jimin. “Just rest up. I’ll get you something to drink.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He sinks into the chair with a sigh of relief. “Thank you. You’re an angel. I love you.”

Seokjin completely misses the surprised look you give him at his last words. Ones that nearly have you bumping into another table before you head to Hoseok’s bar. But Jimin catches it, looking between you and Seokjin with intrigue.

“How are things at the Freelancers?” Jimin starts, propping his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his knuckles.

“They’re good. It keeps me busy,” Seokjin tells him, still leaning back on his chair and keeping his eyes closed. He could fall asleep like this if he wanted to. “It makes good coin, too. If I can save up enough, maybe I can take us on a trip to my hometown.”

“Your hometown?”

“Yeah, it’s a small fishing village.” He opens his eyes and stares up at the ceiling, thinking about the letter he tried to write to his parents. Seokjin left home to become a warden, since that was what was expected of him. Despite how terrified he was of mages at the time, he worked hard on his training, only to feel miserable and out of place within the brotherhood. His friends are now people he once thought were the enemies, and he’s fallen in love with a girl he swore would turn him into a toad one day. “I’ve always wanted to take her there. Show her the pier where all the boats dock and the sea lions sunbathe, take them all to the beach and see the ocean, go fishing, maybe introduce her to my parents.”

Sometimes, he misses the salty breeze, the sound of waves crashing against each other, the gentle rocking of the boat on water, and the thrill of getting something caught in his line and pulling the fishing rod to see what it is. Sometimes, he misses the taste of his mother’s home-cooking, spending time with his father, and getting in trouble with his older brother. Sometimes, he misses home.

“That sounds nice,” Jimin replies, snapping Seokjin out of his thoughts. He sits up, almost forgetting that the florist was sitting across from him.

Honestly, he doesn’t know Jimin that well. He’s good company, sure. You clearly love him, just as much as you love the others. Hoseok and Taehyung seem to believe that he’ll be a significant person to all of you. And Jimin seems like a decent guy. He treats you well, he’s friendly with the rest of them. Just like Seokjin, he’s just trying to find his place in the dynamic between you and the others in the shop.

Because Jimin, like him, is only human.

Perhaps that’s why Seokjin offers, “You want to come with us?”

Jimin raises an eyebrow. “Me?”

“Yeah, why not? It’ll be fun to go together,” Seokjin replies with a tiny shrug. He knows you’ll be happy to have Jimin come along too.

Jimin is a bit quiet. Then, softly, and perhaps still a bit perplexed, he asks, “You really want me to?”

Before Seokjin could answer, you finally return with a couple cold beers: one for him and one for Jimin. “Sorry for the wait. Hoseok and I were talking, and Yoongi needs my help in the back. I’ll catch up with you guys later, yeah?”

“Sure, love.” Jimin reaches over to squeeze your arm reassuringly. He promises to say goodbye to you before he heads back to his shop.

“Thanks, angel,” Seokjin says with a gentle smile. One that becomes fonder as you brush his hair back and place a quick kiss on his temple.

Though, the action doesn’t go unnoticed. One table over is a group of three men on their fourth round of ale that night. As you pass by, one of them shouts, “Hey, lady, where’s my kiss?”

Mocking laughter follows as the man puckers his lips when you turn to them, confused and taken aback. And in a brief moment, you have that same, terrified look.

Suddenly, Seokjin is back to that night. At Blackstone Castle. Heading to his quarters after another unsuccessful Harrowing, catching three of his fellow wardens cornering you in a dimly-lit hall. The tremble in your voice when they interrogate you with invasive questions, how they disable you from fighting back, tugging on the clothes they’ve ripped.

Without thinking, Seokjin stands up. His hand automatically grips the hilt of his sword. All he sees is red.

At the same time, Jimin is on his feet too. For a second, Seokjin thinks Jimin is trying to hold him back, but his eyes are glaring right at the men cat-calling you. He’s holding the edge of the table so hard, his knuckles are beginning to whiten.

Before either of them could make a move, Hoseok steps away from the bar and quietly urges you to go to the back. That he’ll handle things at the front. He gives a pointed glance at both Seokjin and Jimin, wordlessly telling them to sit back down before they make things worse.

“Shit,” Jimin curses softly, letting go of the table and sliding back down on his seat. He rubs his face, a bit distressed. “Not again.”

Seokjin follows and frowns. “Has this happened before?”

“Just once, as far as I’m aware of,” Jimin reveals with an annoyed sigh, still angry about what happened. “Some asshole tried to touch her while she was cleaning a table. Jungkook saw and punched him, but it got messy. Namjoon ended up throwing that guy out.”

His frown deepens. “They didn’t tell me about this.”

“You were on a quest. What could you have done?”

“I’m going to take the day off tomorrow,” Seokjin informs you. He watches from the doorway as you apply a night cream on your face.

“As much as I’d love that, you don’t need to do that for me, Jin,” you tell him. “I know the guild is important to you.”

“You’re more important.”

You turn to face him. “Jin.”

“I miss you.” He means it. The mornings when the two of you would wake up and make breakfast together has almost become a distant memory.

The way you look at him then has his heart yearning. “I miss you, too.”

And it isn’t long before he closes the distance between you two, lips on yours in a kiss he can’t recall who started, wanting to make up for the time he lost.

Heeyeon eyes the bite-sized bruises on his neck. “There’s a meeting today.”

“I’m aware,” Seokjin replies, pretending that he doesn’t notice what she’s looking at.

It isn’t going too well. Especially with the way Jaehwan and Sunwoo are wagging their eyebrows at him.

“All the guild members have to attend,” Heeyeon continues. She doesn’t look away.

“Yes, I know.” Seokjin’s ears begin to turn red from the attention.

He doesn’t know what’s worse. That the two of you got a little carried away with just kissing, or that nothing explicit happened between you two yet. Maybe you could tell that he was tired or nervous, or maybe he was still trying to be a gentleman when you didn’t want him to be. But as he lies on your bed with you in his arms, the almost hanging over his head of what could’ve occurred that night, he realizes that there’s something he needs to tell you before he isn’t able to resist you anymore. 

Junghwan suddenly sits next to him with a shit-eating grin on his face. “So, Seokjin, my best friend. I see you enjoyed your day off yesterday.”

Jaehwan and Sunwoo snort in laughter. Even Byulyi tries to hide her smile before she tries to get them quiet down. Other people in the guild are beginning to look their way.

Seokjin couldn’t ask for better timing as Adnan stands before the entire guild. They received an important mission from the capital. 

“Our target is located around here,” he informs, pointing at a spot on the map. “We will need as many volunteers for this daunting task. My brother, Tariq, and I will also be accompanying you on this mission.”

Hearing that it will take multiple days to travel, investigate, and complete the mission has Seokjin wanting to pass it up.

Then, he hears the reward amount.

A collection of gasps and excited chatter fills the room. It’s the biggest bounty any of them have seen for one mission.

Junghwan clasps Seokjin’s shoulder and shakes it with excitement. “Did you hear that? We have to go!”

“I can’t.”

Team Seokjin all look at him with surprise. “Why not?”

“It’s… complicated,” he henges, not really sure how to explain the situation. 

After what Jimin told him, he doesn’t feel comfortable leaving you alone that long. He knows the others at the shop will take care of you, of course. And he knows that his earnings for this mission will be enough to take you all to his hometown like he had planned. But it’s still his job to protect you, even if he isn’t a warden anymore.

“Is your wife pregnant or something?” Sunwoo asks, then yelps in pain when Byulyi elbows him.

Seokjin runs his hand through his hair. He doesn’t catch what Sunwoo calls you as he answers, “It’s not that. I just… I have to talk to her about it.”

Jaehwan comments, “I’m sure you’ll find a way to convince your wife.”

Five pairs of eyes linger to the fading markings on his neck.

“I don’t think it’s up to me, Seokjin,” you tell him, hugging his arm as you sit on the front steps of the shop. Dusk colors the sky with pretty hues of orange and purple, but as the sun sinks beautifully beyond the horizon, you feel Seokjin’s eyes on you.

“I don’t have to go,” he reminds you quietly. He told you that plenty of people seemed interested in taking up the quest.

“But do you want to go?”

It’s obvious that Seokjin has found his place with the Freelancers. Despite how tired he is by the end of the day, he enjoys going on quests with his new friends, conquering daunting tasks, and reaping their rewards.

A starry-eyed Jungkook and a curious Taehyung eagerly listen when Seokjin recounts his adventures for the day. You catch him handing a lot of his earnings to Namjoon, telling him that it’s for the next trip to the market, for a night out when the shop is closed, to keep in their savings. You hear him tell Hoseok and Yoongi that he’ll buy them whatever they want too, whether it’s a new coat that Hoseok has been eyeing or some better-quality meat from the butcher Yoongi likes.

If his mission is successful, he might even take time off for a bit. Give himself a break to enjoy what he’s been missing and what he’s earned. It’d be foolish of him to refuse.

“I’ll be worried about you,” he continues with a woeful sigh. “You’ll be stuck with a bunch of 8/10s.”

“I think I’ll survive. What’s the worst that Jungkook can do?” you half-joke, but then you pause when you actually think about the possibilities. “Actually, never mind. I think we both should be very worried.”

He laughs and kisses the top of your head. “I’ll miss you.”

“Not as much as I’ll miss you.” These days, you feel like that’s all you do. You miss him. Seokjin hasn’t been around as much since he joined the guild.

“I’ll make it up when I come back.”

“Or,” you begin, suddenly sitting up and looking him in the eye, “you can make it up to me now.”

“Can I admit something?” Seokjin begins, pressing his back against the lilac-colored sofa in his room. Red burns his ears and heats his face as your clothes slip off your body and fall on the ground. He feels like his entire body is on fire as you tilt your head, stripped of everything but your panties, and wait for him to continue. “I, uh… I don’t… I told you I was in a monastery before I became a warden, right?”

“Yes. You got kicked out,” you respond, stepping out of your clothes.

“For telling bad jokes,” he henges, seeming torn between looking away and staring at your body. You’re so gorgeous, it’s making him insane. “Anyway, funny thing that the monastery teaches—”

“Jin.”

“—lust to humans is a cardinal sin, and only the Wicked indulges in such—”

“We can just kiss like last time. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Seokjin peeks at your face, glances down at your chest, and then covers his entire face with his hands, muffling a groan. “It’s not that I don’t want to, but,” he takes your hand in his, “I know that for mages and even some humans, this isn’t a big deal. But it is to me. I just want you to understand that.”

“It’s fine, Jin. I understand. Let me just—” You start to pull away, but Seokjin keeps a firm hold on your hand, refusing to let it go.

“I don’t think you do, angel,” he says, tugging you closer to him again. “What I’m trying to say is that I love you. Truly. I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone but you.”

He sees his confession sink in on you. “Jin…”

“According to the Devoted, I’m damning my soul for you, you know. The least you could say is that you love me back.”

“I love you,” you giggle, and he isn’t sure who kisses who first, but suddenly, you’re on his lap. Your hands cup his jaw, tilting his head back as you lean down to kiss him, and his hand tentatively squeezes your breast. You sigh when you pull away from his lips and start to kiss his neck, revisiting some of the hickeys you left last time. “I like when you touch me.”

“Yeah?” He practically moans. He likes when you touch him too.

His clothes are off, and you seem just as fascinated with his body as he is with yours. You practically squeal and giggle when he suddenly picks you up with his strong arms and carries you to his bed. The whites of his bedding truly make you look like an angel as you lie on top of it.

Seokjin leans over you, kissing you deeply. When he pulls back, your eyes are still closed with content. Breathless, you murmur, “I like when you kiss me, too.”

He takes this as a cue to kiss you more. Touch you more. Your body is so soft and warm. His heart races with assurance that you’re enjoying this as much as he is. That you’re letting him know how to please you.

He takes you slowly, filling you entirely. He intends to take his time with you for the first time, but the way you whine and grasp his forearm has him desperate for more. The kisses become sloppier. His own grunts and moans against your skin, against your lips, only encourage you to help him chase that climax.

But a stubborn part of Seokjin wants to take care of you first.

A loud gasp is caught from your throat and your hips jerk slightly when you feel his thumb against your clit. Experimental touches as he continues to thrust into you. “Oh, fuck, Jin, I—”

He doesn’t need you to tell him that you liked that.

You come undone for him, and Seokjin is so in awe and so in love as the waves of pleasure leave you quivering and clenching around him. There’s a light sheen of sweat on your skin, but it makes you glow. He smiles a little as he gives you a moment to catch your breath before he hooks your leg around his waist again.

You meet his gaze, a bit surprised when you feel him still hard inside you. Seokjin chuckles and leans over to kiss you again.

He makes you cum two more times before he allows himself to finish.

It’s a little before 6:00AM when he hears it.

The loud crowing of the neighbor’s damn rooster.

A groan escapes Seokjin’s lips as he tries to sink further into the blanket, pulling the covers over his head. There’s a weight on him that’s preventing him from moving, and it isn’t until you’re both under the covers when he realizes it’s you.

Your brows are furrowed, waking up a little when you feel him stirring, but your eyes are still closed. Your lips are parted slightly as your breaths are still slow and even. And you’re cutely tucked against him, bare skin touching his and hair messy from sleep.

It’s probably the first time in a while that you’ve slept through the night.

And Seokjin suddenly has another reason to like the morning. Especially if it means waking up to you.

“You know,” Seokjin begins when you wake up, still in bed and under the covers with him. “According to all the Devoted sisters in the monastery, I should’ve been struck by lightning by now.”

“That so?” you ask, voice still full of sleep.

“Yep. Lightning first, then the end of civilization as we know it.”

“It could still happen,” you reply with a smirk.

“Are you insinuating that we test that?” he questions with a mischievous smile of his own. “Naughty girl.”

Your giggles are muffled with a kiss as Seokjin rolls on top of you.

“Ah, good you haven’t left yet!” Hoseok exclaims when you and Seokjin come down the stairs sometime later. In his hand is a beaded bracelet. “Taehyung and I wanted to give this to you. It’s another good luck charm. He worked really hard finding the prettiest beads so I can make this.”

Taehyung puffs out his chest with pride and nods his head. 

Seokjin smiles as he puts it on. It reminds him of the one Hoseok gave him at Blackstone Castle when they were still weary of each other. 

Things have changed a lot since then.

“Hyung, I’ve done some research on what beasts are in the areas you’re traveling to,” Namjoon says, carrying some notes in his hands. The dark circles beneath his eyes indicate that he’s been up all night putting it together for him. “I made a list of each of their weaknesses too in case you engage in battle with them.”

Jungkook’s eyes are a bit shiny as he hugs Seokjin. “I wish I could go with you, but since I can’t, you have to stay safe so you can tell me all about your quest.”

“What do you feel like eating, hyung? I’ll cook today,” Yoongi offers, already holding a pan and a cup of coffee in his hands.

Seokjin blinks, trying not to tear up.

Unlike the others in the shop, Seokjin is just human. He doesn’t have any special abilities or arcane knowledge that the mages and familiars have. Yet, he’s still very much loved by every person at the shop.

There’s a knock at the door, and Seokjin goes to open it, knowing that there’s only one person in town that comes by when the shop is closed.

Jimin smiles at him. “Everyone in town is talking about the mission the Freelancers are taking. Are you going with them? I thought to stop by and wish you luck if you are.”

“Yeah, I’ll be heading to the meeting spot soon,” Seokjin answers as he lets him in. Everyone is still at the breakfast table, and it’s loud and lively like it usually is. As Jimin looks on, there’s a hint of loneliness and yearning on his face. Like he’s still very much an outsider to you all. “Hey, could you do me a favor?”

“Hm? Oh, sure. What is it?”

From one mortal to another, he has a simple request. “Take care of my family, okay?”

Saying goodbye to you all is more difficult than he thought it would be. He knew it’d be hard. After escaping Blackstone Castle together, you and the others haven’t really been separated at all.

Team Seokjin are all gathered at the meeting spot. There are quite a few other teams that have volunteered as well. All of them are chatting and saying goodbye to loved ones, and the two brothers seem to be in the middle of an argument as they discuss their initial plans at their debrief.

Seokjin leans his back against the tree trunk, sitting down. He’s just waiting for the debrief to be over so that they can be given further instructions, but it seems to be taking a while.

He rummages through his pack, triple-checking that he has everything he needs while he’s still in town. He has the essentials: medical supplies, food rations, a canister for water, a hunting knife, clothes and toiletries. Hoseok snuck some of his potions and antidotes in his pack as well, disguising them as medicine. A small smile forms on his lips when he finds a small alpaca doll in his bag as well. He isn’t sure who put it in there, but he’s certain it’s been enchanted to watch over him.

Then, he finds the letter that he started writing to his parents. He never finished it, and never got to send it. He starts to miss you when he sees that the last thing he wrote was about how you’re everything to him.

With time on his hand, he decides to finish it.

Dear Mom and Dad,

When you last saw your son, he was sent to Blackstone Castle. He was a mortal among mages, suspicious of them and their magic. He believed the word of the Devoted and saw them as his enemies.

That man died when Blackstone Castle fell.

The man I am now is still your son, still very much alive and well as he is handsome. He is lacking and vulnerable in many ways, but he does his best to keep pushing forward. For himself, for his new-found family. He is still the son you raised so well, but a lot of things have changed since he left home.

I hope to tell you guys all about it in person soon.

Your son, Kim Seokjin

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

Previous | Series Masterlist | Next

[cursed-princess-club]

if you don't mind me asking, could you rank these "couples" from most to least likely to end up together in the final?

Maria and Blaine

Lorena and Lance

Gwen and Frederick

Nell and Jolie

Jamie and Leopold

Whitney and Prez

Saffron and Syrah (I'm helpless with names i'm pretty sure that's not how it's written)

7am for me on a weekend just woke up im still in bed and yeah sure why not lol

story-wise, i don't feel like any plaid/pastel ships will necessarily end up together. their mutual crushes are very canon and a plot point with gwen's self image slowly becoming dependent on how frederick sees her, and frederick learning how to care about himself and fight for what he believes in. gwen is kind of one of his first friends i'd say, they do like each other a lot, but my intuition tells me it'd be left ambiguous or with them taking time off deciding to be friends for now, and i would honestly love that. 1. Friendship is AWESOME and doesn't mean less than a romantic relationship!! so 2. just think it'd be cool... Frederick's whole arc is motivated by Gwen, and the message of him doing all this just for the fact he cares about her and NOT just to get with her, and him being just as happy that they're friends as much as he'd be happy if they kissed at the end of the fight or something. Epic

the farthest i could see their relationship going is some future flash forward where they're just casually together, or one of them approaches each other and is like "could we try this again?" otherwise i see gwen and frederick taking their relationship slow ever since the gala incident. Could also be completely wrong. 6/10 chance in my book

after the Gala Shebang, i think any infatuation maria felt for blaine has wiped away and i just can't see them ending up together together in the story, and having it make sense. Maybe like. 30 years in the future?? cause i could see maria dating around. Never text your ex when you're drunk type situation.

lorance: ...maybe.? I'll have to watch a little more and see what my brain tells me. so far im feeling they end up friends bc adore their friendship tbh. I'll have to see till after the siege, they very much so care about each other though!

jellie: Yes (just a hunch)

syron: ambiguous. a specific scenario suited towards their relationship . i feel it in my bones. epilogue where saff confesses and sy's just like haha. WAIT WHAT??? 7/10

leomie: Yes. their confession is in my top 3 for cpc. No words. Undescribed. I. I cannot express,

calwhit: feel like it'd stay unrequited on whitney's end but they'd be a great qpr! prez being romance avoidant and such 😎 (aro lore tbh)

[checkoutmybookshelf]

You Have My Attention: The Negotiator Trilogy First Lines

Did I absolutely love this romance between a New York Lawyer and a Gargoyle? YES. Did I also love the fact that she ended up arbitrating between the old races? ALSO YES. But, despite CE Murphy being one of my favorite authors, she does have to catch readers who haven't yet figured out she's amazing, so let's take a look at how she does it with the first lines of each book in this trilogy.

She ran, long strides that ate the pavement despite her diminutive height. Her hair, full of corkscrew curls, was pulled back from her face, bunches jouncing as her feet impacted the asphalt surface. The words feminine and female, less interchangeable than they might seem, both described her well.

-- C.E. Murphy, Heart of Stone

Humans would call it a catch-22.

He'd read the book the phrase came from, even sympathized with the protagonist, a man desperate to avoid fighting in a war but with no recourse to do so except claim insanity. The difficulty lay in the military's own desperation for warriors. If he said he was crazy and wanted to fight, all the better; they would take him. If he didn't, that was simply normal, and they'd conscript him regardless.

-- C.E. Murphy, House of Cards

Night drove her out of bed to run.

She'd become accustomed to another sort of dream over the last weeks: erotic, exotic, filled with impossible beings and endless possibility. But these were different, burning images of a man's death in flames. Not by flame, but in it: the color of her dreams was ever-changing crimson lucked with saffron, as though varying the light might result in a happier ending.

-- C.E. Murphy, Hands of Flame

[friskynotebook]

All the Wasted Time Ch. 8

An Obidala GFFA AU slow-burn romance ❤️

CW: age gap, food, bed-sharing, hurt/comfort, grief, death of a loved one, caretaking, handkerchief use, pining, crying, funeral, wake, love confession

Summary: Obi-Wan says goodbye to his mentor and finds new love.

The morning of the funeral service, Obi-Wan woke early, his head feeling like it was filled with cement.

Remind me to never have a crying jag before falling asleep.

He rolled over and fumbled for the handkerchief he discarded the night before, blowing his nose until his head felt somewhat clear and normal.

Once he was through, Obi-Wan groaned and rolled back over, expecting to find Padme still resting beside him. Instead, her side of the bed was cold.

He frowned. That’s odd. He got up and dressed himself, curiously listening to the voices downstairs and the pots and pans banging about.

As he made his way downstairs, the voices became more clear.

“Now you’re going to want to use more saffron here, dear,” his mother said. 

“How much?” Padme asked. Obi-Wan pictured her brow furrowing in concentration and he smiled to himself.

“Just a pinch.”

“Like a literal pinch?” This time, Obi-Wan pictured her nose scrunching, and his heart fluttered.

“Yes, lass,” his mum laughed. “Just like this.”

“Oh,” Padme said. “And that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“That stew was easier than I thought!” Padme exclaimed. Obi-Wan’s chest grew warm as he pictured her and his mother cooking together, laughing over silly memories.

“Maybe you can make it for Obi when you’re back on Coruscant,” Duran teased.

Before Padme was forced to reply, Obi-Wan walked into the kitchen, where he saw what his mother and Padme had been making—higartha brain stew, one of his favorites.

“Something smells delicious,” he said, smiling at Padme.

She beamed. “Good morning, Obi-Wan.”

“Morning, dear. Did you sleep alright?” his mother fussed.

He caught Padme’s concerned gazed and blushed. “As well as I could have.”

Jemmila kissed her teeth. “Make sure you have some strong caf—don’t give me that look, Obi—and a good breakfast. Your father made eggs.”

Obi-Wan perked up. “Really? Stewjoni eggs are marvelous, Padme. You should have some—”

“I already did,” she giggled. “And you’re right, they’re fabulous.”

##

Obi-Wan ran his hands over his formal robes—black for mourning. Qui-Gon’s passing may have been sudden, but a part of him had been preparing to lose his master since they began their training. He wasn’t exactly anticipating his master to die—he just knew that if the cycle of life worked the way it was supposed to, Qui-Gon would naturally join the Force before himself.

Still, despite all of his mental preparation, he found himself caught off guard when Anakin told him the news. He tried to hold it together for the sake of his padawan and grandpadawan, but inside, his heart was shattering into a thousand pieces.

His parents were happy, healthy, and alive—yet part of him still felt like an orphan.

A soft knock on the shed door startled him from his thoughts. “Come in.”

Padme opened the door, dressed in her own mourning gown. “Interesting place you’ve chosen to hide in.”

He smiled softly. “I’m not hiding, I’m preparing—I needed some space alone to . . . process.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, I’ll get out—”

“No, Padme, please stay. You . . . ground me.”

She smiled, stepping closer. “Are you alright, Obi-Wan?”

He sighed. “Honestly? No, but I’ll be fine. As fine as I can be.”

“Oh, Obi-Wan,” she murmured, pulling him into her arms. She stroked his back, listening to him breathe in and out. “I’ll be right behind you with your family.”

“I know,” he rumbled, speaking into her shoulder.

“You can do this,” she whispered. “You’re the strongest person I know. I . . . believe in you, Obi-Wan.”

Padme held him for a few more moments, then Obi-Wan pulled away and took her hands in his. “Thank you, dear one. For everything. Not just today, but this entire week.”

She let go of one of his hands and rested her palm against his cheek, rubbing her thumb over his beard bristle. “You never have to thank me for this, Obi-Wan.”

He gave her a small smile. “I suppose it’s time to go?”

Padme nodded.

With a final squeeze of her hand, he let go and left the shed, walking towards Qui-Gon’s basic wooden coffin, which was loaded on wooden slats for the procession through the village. 

Obi-Wan approached the other pallbearers—Duran, Anakin, Quinlan, Mace, Count Dooku, Yoda, and Plo Kloon—and stepped towards his place at the head of the coffin.

“Ready?” he asked.

##

The weight of Qui-Gon’s coffin sat heavy on his shoulder.

Obi-Wan adjusted his grip as the bagpipes droned around him. You always loved the bagpipes, master. Now they’re playing for you.

He blinked back more tears and pressed a kiss to the side of the coffin as he marched on.

##

The pallbearers stepped into the chapel, filled to the brim with the galaxy’s finest. Not a bad turnout, huh, master?

In the pews, Obi-Wan could spot Bail and Breha sitting with Mon and Carlist, Ahsoka sitting with Cody and Rex. The tight grip on his heart loosened just a little bit at seeing them with their sad eyes and small, patient smiles.

As the pallbearers laid the coffin down in front of the altar, Obi-Wan pressed another kiss on the coffin, then took his seat directly in front of Padme.

##

Obi-Wan carefully stepped up to the podium, his boots echoing in the near-silent chapel. 

His nerves threatened to overtake him—sweat started gathering along his brow and he had to hold his hands together to prevent them from visibly shaking. His heart threatened to pound out of his chest—he was pretty sure at least the front row of the chapel could hear it from their seats.

Obi-Wan swallowed hard, his eyes scanning the mourners. He tried to prepare something for his eulogy—it should have been relatively easy for the Jedi Order’s Great Negotiator, but every time he tried to write something, anything, down, tears would sting his eyes, and his chest would feel so tight he couldn’t breathe.

The only thing he could do was step away from the flimsi and walk away. Now, though, he wished he had the courage to keep going.

He cleared his throat, and he made eye contact with Padme. Her warm brown eyes comforted him, and she nodded at him, encouraging him.

He stood a little straighter.

“Qui-Gon Jinn was the most difficult man I ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

A light chuckle rolled over the crowd.

“Throughout my entire apprenticeship, I was constantly baffled by his choices, frustrated by his motivations. I often believed he acted without thinking, especially when it came to matters regarding the Council.” He chuckled. “One time I told him he would have a much easier time with the Council if he wouldn’t be so difficult.”

Mace cackled.

“He was a maverick—an unorthodox Jedi, yet he was brave and wise, and a marvelous warrior. He had a commanding presence, but never lost his compassion for all life forms. Qui-Gon would go to the ends of the galaxy if it meant a being would be safe. He was endlessly kind and good, yet never wavered when faced with a challenge. He was a formidable opponent in a duel—without his training, I would certainly not be the Jedi, the man I am today.”

He paused, swallowing his tears.

“What I will miss the most is his wisdom. After his injury on Naboo forced him to step down from more active duty, I was responsible for training Anakin. I felt lost and alone and terrified—but Qui-Gon never abandoned me. He was always available to listen and advise me—even if what he had to say was not what I wanted to hear.”

“I have a tendency to focus on the worst outcome, worrying about what could happen rather than what was happening. Yet without fail, he would always remind me to focus on the present, the moment I was living in. Don't center on your anxieties, Obi-Wan. Keep your concentration here and now, where it belongs. I hope that’s a lesson I can remember without him with me.”

He stopped trying to hold back his tears.

“Qui-Gon Jinn was one of the most difficult men I had ever known, but he was also one of the best. The galaxy is a smaller place without his presence in it. I will always love him, and I will always miss him.”

Obi-Wan stepped down from the podium, sinking into his seat as the adrenaline left his body.

The only thing he could focus on was Padme’s warm hand on his shoulder.

##

After the service, the mourners filed out of the chapel and moved to the pyre for the ceremonial burning.

As the flames swallowed Qui-Gon’s body, Obi-Wan held Padme’s hand, squeezing it tightly, unable to tear his eyes away.

While most of the other mourners had moved back to the Kenobi home for the wake, he stayed with Padme and Dooku until the very last ember had burned out. 

He couldn’t bring himself to leave his master.

After Dooku had taken his leave, Obi-Wan closed his eyes.

Goodbye, master.

As he turned to walk back to the house, still holding Padme’s hand, he swore he could hear a faint voice in the distance:

May the Force be with you, padawan.

##

The mood at the Kenobi house was much lighter than at the chapel.

It was a true celebration of Qui-Gon’s life—a party he very much would have been at the center of had he been there.

Wasn’t he there, though?

Obi-Wan laughed at Yoda’s retelling of Qui-Gon trying to save a colony of baby mythosaurs without Dooku finding out.

“It would have worked if I didn’t need to shave that day,” Dooku smiled. “He had their nest in my shaving kit.”

Obi-Wan and Mace lost it at that point, laughing until tears came out of their eyes.

Obi-Wan stood to get another drink when he heard a soft call of his name. 

He turned, surprised to see Beru and Owen Lars to his left.

“Beru, Owen,” he greeted, hugging Beru and shaking Owen’s hand. “Thank you both for coming. I know it’s a long journey from Tatooine.”

“Of course,” Beru replied. “We had to be here, especially with all you’ve done for Anakin.”

“I know Qui-Gon would have appreciated it,” Obi-Wan nodded.

Owen and Beru shared a look.

“We didn’t just come here for Qui-Gon,” Owen said.

Obi-Wan raised a brow. “Oh?”

“We’re here for you too.”

Obi-Wan was taken aback. “Me? Whatever for?”

Beru shot Owen an I told you so look. “You need support too . . . On Tatooine, we believe funerals are for the living, not the dead. Qui-Gon is always with us, wherever we go. But we came all this way to see the ones still living—you.”

Obi-Wan didn’t say anything, his throat tight.

Owen cleared his throat. “Look, I know we—I,” he amended after another look from his wife, “am not good at opening up to people. Something we both have in common.” He crossed his arms. “But you should know . . . you and Qui-Gon trained Anakin, raised Anakin, gave him what he needed. And you didn’t cut him off from us.” He looked over at Anakin chatting with Shmi and Cliegg. “Everything you’ve done for him, for us, makes you family. And we show up for our family. Like it or not.” Owen had a playful glint in his eye.

“Thank you, Owen,” he choked. “That. . . means a lot.”

Owen nodded, then looked at Beru. “Did you want more of those wraps?”

As the Lars’ left, Padme came up to Obi-Wan’s other side. “Well, that was something.”

“I’m still shocked.”

“What was so shocking? The fact that you have friends who love you?” she teased.

He chuckled and looked down, not ready to acknowledge the partial truth. “The fact that Owen was the one to tell me.”

##

The next day, Padme and Obi-Wan arrived back at the Coruscant landing pad. Secretly, Obi-Wan had been dreading this moment—not just because he’d be saying goodbye to his family, but because he’d be saying goodbye to Padme.

She set her things down, using her comm to call a hovercab.

“Thank you so much, Padme. For everything,” he said, standing beside her.

“Obi-Wan, for the thousandth time, you don’t have to thank me for anything,” she replied, her eyes twinkling. “I’d do it again tomorrow. Though preferably after a full night’s sleep in my own bed.”

He laughed. “All the same. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Yes you could have. But I’m glad I was there with you.”

He waited with Padme, dread filling his belly at the thought of being apart from her. They didn’t spend every moment on Stewjon together, but he could still feel her presence around him.

And that brought him more comfort than he can say.

“Padme?” he asked as the hovercab got closer.

“Yes?”

He swallowed. “Would you be interested in having tea tomorrow night?” He’s certain he’ll have to purchase more of her favorite blend, which would not be ideal considering everything he should be catching up on, but somehow it was absolutely imperative that he see Padme again as soon as possible.

She beamed, stepping into the hovercab. “I would love that.”

##

Obi-Wan returned to the Temple and settled back into his quarters. He needed to keep himself busy—both to forget about the aching loss that filled his bones and to keep his mind off missing Padme.

But after tidying his already-clean apartment and preparing himself for bed, he settled under the covers and closed his eyes.

And didn’t fall asleep.

He tossed and turned for what felt like hours. He tried meditating. He tried pretending to meditate like a restless youngling, hoping to trick his body into actually sleeping.

He even tried counting banthas.

Obi-Wan sighed, letting his mind wander—and he inevitably started thinking about Padme. 

He always thought she was an effortless beauty, with charm and wit and intelligence in spades. For years after the blockade, they maintained a correspondence, meeting up whenever they were on the same planet. He always felt like he could confide in her in ways he couldn’t confide in Anakin or Quinlan or even Qui-Gon.

She never failed to offer him advice or a laugh whenever he needed it. And he was deeply grateful for her.

If he stopped to think about it, he wouldn’t know how he would have coped without her presence, especially this past week. She comforted him and supported him and made him feel safe when his world was falling apart.

Padme dropped her entire life, her Senate work, to be there for him—that couldn’t have been easy, especially with her latest bill protecting the rights of galactic sex workers. Bail worked on it in her absence, but he knew she was incredibly passionate about it—and how much she was giving up by choosing to be with him.

To him, Padme Amidala was endlessly brilliant and dedicated and compassionate—it was why he loved her.

Wait.

What.

He sat up straight, his brow furrowed. Did he love Padme? 

The butterflies when she was around. The way she brightened his day when he was blessed with her company. His admiration for her brilliance on the Senate floor. The way he always valued her safety, even if it came at the expense of his own.

He loved Padme.

His first instinct was pure panic. How could Padme love him? His life was full of danger and uncertainty—even with the modifications to the attachment rule, he surely can’t be everything she needed. 

How could she want an older Jedi dedicated to throwing himself towards the first signs of trouble?

But, he had to admit to himself that his life had been so much better since she became part of it—especially these past few weeks since the gala. Her friendship balanced him and his anxieties—he believed he was a better man and, perhaps more importantly, a better Jedi with her presence.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and reached out to the Force. Is this the Force’s will? Is this what is meant to be? 

His entire being filled with acceptance and love, the Force around him singing with approval at their love.

If only she felt the same way.

Before he could think about what he was doing, he got up from bed and dressed as quickly as he could. He knew it was late and he knew every sane being in Coruscant would be asleep but he knew he wasn’t getting back to sleep and his heart was burning with the desire to tell her about his love that very minute.

Perhaps Anakin still had that speeder from their first gala . . .

##

Obi-Wan raced to her door, preparing to knock—but he stopped himself at the last minute.

She’s likely asleep.

Perhaps I should have called.

No time like the present.

He pulled out his comm and before he could overthink it, he dialed her number.

She answered on the second ring. “Obi-Wan?”

He sighed. “Padme, hello. I’m so sorry to bother you so late—”

“You aren’t bothering me—I was already awake,” she reassured him. “What’s wrong?”

He swallowed, running a hand through his hair. “I, uh, I can’t sleep.”

“Oh, Obi-Wan,” she cooed. “I’m so sorry . . . Why don’t I try singing to you? There’s this Nubian lullaby my mother used to sing to us.”

“Actually, Padme, I don’t think that will work.” He chewed on his lower lip.

“What can I do?” she asked.

Now or never. “Open your door?”

“What?” she gasped. Obi-Wan could hear rustling and shuffling on the other end of the comm. “Where are you? I’m coming to get you.”

“Not far,” he replied. “Not far at all.” He sighed. “Padme, the reason I can’t sleep is because I miss you. I cannot sleep without you because you’ve become an integral part of my life and my heart and I cannot bear to be separated from you when we’re both so close.”

Obi-Wan swallowed, not wanting to lose his nerve. “I know this is not the best time, and I’m sure you were just being nice when you said you were still awake, and I’m not certain you feel the same way, but I simply had to let you know and I could not wait another moment to tell you how I felt—”

Padme’s front door opened and she pulled him inside. “Get in here, you silly, ridiculous man.”

She threw her arms around him, pulling him impossibly close. “Obi-Wan,” she murmured.

He pulled back slightly, enough for him to look into her eyes. “I love you, Padme. I love you so much.”

“Obi-Wan,” she choked. “I love you too. Of course I love you. I have been in love with you for so long.”

He smiled, tears filling his eyes. “I believe I have as well, darling, though it seems we’ve both been too stubborn to realize it.”

Tears were already pouring from her eyes, and Obi-Wan cupped her face, delicately wiping them away with his thumbs. Padme leaned in, ready to kiss him, really kiss him, for the first time—only for Obi-Wan to hesitate.

“What is it?” She frowned.

He took a shuddering breath. “I can’t mess this up, Padme.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re my best friend, my dearest one. I don’t want to ruin that. I don’t want to lose my best friend—”

“Don’t you understand, Obi-Wan?” Padme whispered. “You’re my best friend, too. This means everything to me.”

He leaned in, his lips crashing together with hers. 

It was better than anything he could have ever imagined, even as their noses smashed against each other as they deepened the kiss, their teeth clacking. All they wanted was to be together, so close they couldn’t tell where Obi-Wan ended and Padme began.

When they finally had to break for air, Padme pulled back, taking his hand.

“Love?” he asked.

“Let’s go to bed, Obi-Wan.”

And together, hand in hand, they went to Padme’s bedroom.

Thank you all for joining me on this journey! I'll be taking a few days off to rest and enjoy my break and then I'll be back with my Obidala Hallmark Christmas movie rewrite, You Make it Feel Like Christmas!

Merry Christmas, everyone ❤️🎄

No-pressure tags: @wickedscribbles @obiknights @labyrinth-runner @your-dose-of-obidala @mxster-jocale @cypanache @celestial-alignment @written-musings @alabama-metal-man

[oddmawd]

THE GRASP OF GILDED STRINGS - Chapter 11

SYNOPSIS: Through violence and bloodshed, Donquixote Doflamingo carved out a world of his own making. Now someone is mending the broken toys of Dressrosa with gold — and they did not ask the king of the island for permission. In a land he rules with an iron fist, this small act of rebellion cannot go unchallenged...but for all his schemes and plans, Doflamingo was unprepared to meet the woman behind the gold.

Through dogged determination, Saffron engineered a quiet place for herself in the kingdom of Dressrosa. She is content in her self-imposed isolation, because solitude means safety when you have an ability like hers. Too bad she’s been noticed by the one man who could destroy her hard-won way of life. Mending broken toys seemed an act of mercy. Now Saffron can only hope the king of Dressrosa will show her the same.

(Doflamingo x OC. Explicit content. Unhealthy relationship. Doffy corrupts. This is not a redemption story.)

TAGS & CONTENT WARNINGS

PAIRING: Doflamingo/OC

RATING:  E(xplicit)

WORD COUNT: 10k for chapter 11

GENRE: Dark Romance

FANDOM: One Piece

TAGS: Dark romance, obsessive love, psychological manipulation, stalking, unhealthy relationships, engineer/inventor OC, Doffy comes with his own warning

WARNINGS: Allusions to sexual and violent content in chapter 11; please see full tags list on AO3 for other chapters

CHAPTER 11:

Saffron had always wondered how goods were delivered to the palace atop the King’s Plateau. The imposing column of stone bore neither steps nor stairs that she could see, but the king of Dressrosa reportedly lived atop the plateau in want of nothing. Good food, fine clothes, and all the pleasures like had to offer made their way to the king’s castle in the sky without apparent obstacle. She’d heard rumors of some hidden entrances known only to select craftsmen in Dressrosa, but she had never gotten close enough to see what these entrances looked like. The workers about town became cagey when she asked, eyes darting to and fro, polite but firm deferrals ready on their lips. Saffron had long ago deduced that they had been told to keep the entrances a secret as a safety measure.

Baby 5, meanwhile, held no such compunction, because she stood at the foot of the plateau in her frilly apron and vivid dress without a care for subtlety, arms akimbo above her head as she shouted, “Saffron! You’re here!”

Saffron hefted the rucksack on her shoulder a little higher and replied, “I suppose I am.”

She’d worked out the details of where to meet Baby 5 the week before, when the king of Dressrosa offered her the job of bringing electric light to the palace. Saffron had spent the seven days since wondering if the job offer had been some kind of joke. Surely someone as lofty as a king wouldn’t hire someone like her, after all. Not to mention the king hadn’t been back to see her since that day in her barn — but there stood Baby 5, waiting right where the king had promised she would be at the appointed time. The king’s offer was real and not some elaborate prank, after all. Saffron really had secured for herself the job of a lifetime.

But as Saffron accepted Baby 5’s enthusiastic hug, she wondered which she would’ve preferred: the obscurity of merely being made the butt of a royal joke, or the very real danger of very real, yet lucrative, royal attention.

Baby 5 gripped her shoulders and beamed, dark eyes somehow bright. “Congrats on the project, Saffron.”

“Thank you. I — ”

“Talk about life-changing!” Baby 5 gushed. “You’re one of the lucky ones, for him to take an interest in you like this.”

“Of course. Do you — ?”

“Ooo, this is exciting!” She danced from foot to foot. “This biggest job of your life is about to begin!”

At that, Saffron could only nod. It was true — this was the biggest job she’d ever been given by an impossibly wide margin both in terms of scope and in pay (especially the pay). But accepting the position hadn’t been an instant “yes” for Saffron.

In fact, she’d countered and asked for more after the king named his price, struck by a sudden bout of boldness for which she could offer no explanation. Perhaps seeing her lights in action had done something to her ego; perhaps the king holding her so high aloft in his strong grip had literally and figuratively given her airs. Whatever the truth of her new-found bravery, her demand for more pay made King Doflamingo throw back his head and laugh, spinning under the lights overhead with Saffron still clasped tightly in his arms. His long throat and the hard planes of his jaw, covered in burnished skin, gleamed like copper when he laughed. Only when she made a sound of protest, kicking weakly in his grip, did he let her go so she could retreat behind her workbench, safely out of reach.

(‘Safely.’ That was the lie she kept telling herself — that she was safe, shielded by paltry bits of wood and scattered tools. She knew she wasn’t safe. Such a notion was laughable. The distance between them was an illusion, one Doflamingo could break in an instant if he chose. Even a hundred miles and a new life in another ocean wouldn’t keep him away once he set his eyes on her. Saffron knew the truth of this in her bones.)

“More? You want more?” He laughed again, that throaty fu-fu-fu of raw mirth she’d come to expect from him in moments like these. “My, my, Saffron. So greedy. The avarice in you rears its head again.”

“It’s not avarice. It’s necessity,” came her emboldened protest. “I’ll need materials for this job — lots of them — and those cost money. The payment you’re offering isn’t enough to fully fund the project and adequately pay me for my time and expertise. I can break down every number if you prefer, but I assure you my price is nothing but fair, and — ”

He laughed again. “Oh, my little doll. You misunderstand.” The king gestured at her, fingers long and thin and powerful...graceful, even. “That number I named? It was for you — you, and you alone. The materials, the labor? I will cover those costs myself.”

Saffron said: “... Oh.”

His grin widened. “Is the number sufficient enough now to satisfy you?”

It should’ve been enough. Really, it should have been. But Saffron — curse her, she hesitated. She hesitated and looked at the king askance, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. Because he was a king, and he had named his price like it was nothing, and surely that meant he could afford more if such a sum meant so little.

Did she need more, though?

Did it even matter?

If the opportunity for more lay at her fingertips, why shouldn’t she take it?

She’d sworn to herself, long ago, that she would never let herself go to bed hungry again. If she had more, that fear would permanently end, pocket stuffed with enough money to keep her belly stuffed for the rest of her life. But Saffron was a woman of simple means. She didn’t need finery or excess. Did she really need this money if — ?

He was laughing at her again. “I called you my golden doll, and your name evokes the color orange — but truly, in your heart, you’re green with envy.”

Saffron’s face heated. “I’m not — !”

“And what a beautiful color on you green has turned out to be! Lovely, just lovely.” Still he laughed, every breath skating up her spine like the touch of his massive, graceful hand. “You’ll have your higher number, my dear. You’ll have everything you ask for and more.”

“Even freedom?”

His smile faded a tick — though it did not dissolve into a frown. It faded into something strained and tense, a grinning leer of question. Saffron regretted her inquiry at once. It had just slipped out, but...

“Freedom?” King Doflamingo repeated. “Did you say ‘freedom’?”

“Yes.” She wasn’t feeling quite so brave as before, but still Saffron told the king: “Freedom to craft the design as I see fit. To hire who I want, when I want. To set deadlines as benefits the project, not anyone else’s schedule.” When he said nothing, she added desperately: “The freedom to make choices, your highness.”

“Ah. Is that all you meant?” His smile returned, the sharp tension in him dulling like a blunted blade. “Fine, my little doll. If that is what you wish, then that freedom you may have.”

He stepped toward her. Saffron’s homespun illusion of safety evaporated when he dropped a hip to the table between them, leaning forward with hand extended — seeking out hers to shake. To seal the deal striking quick and hot between them with a clasp of palm against palm. Doflamingo was so enormous that leaning a mere part of his weight on the table had it creaking beneath him. She noticed this absently, however, the urge to tell him to be careful a distant thing. She was too distracted by the grinning face staring down into hers. Too distracted by his powerful limbs. Too distracted by his wolfish expression — eager. Hungry. She thought for one, fanciful moment that he resembled a handsome spider perched on a web of golden strings, waiting for her to stumble into his clutches. The image sent a chill skittering down her back.

Part of her wanted to tell him no. A large part of her wanted to turn and run. But the number he’d quoted — her payment. It had been so high. An astronomical sum. An amount of money she’d never even dreamed of before meeting the king of Dressrosa.

His enormous hand hovered still between them. She stared at it in silence. Looked up at his face, trying to discern the truth of him behind the glasses shrouding his eyes from view.

“Saffron,” Doflamingo murmured.

Her name rumbled in his chest, deep and low, velvet and steel entwined. She shivered again. Doflamingo’s grin widened. She didn’t know what it meant. That scared her.

But the number he’d quoted...The security it offered...

The thought of never worrying about her next meal, the roof over her head, ever again...

Saffron swallowed. Considered the anxiety bubbling inside her. Sucked in a breath, slow and unsettling.

She placed her hand into the king’s, anyway.

The gold around her naked nail-beds glittered beneath the glare of her electric lights. Doflamingo’s fingers curled around hers like a trap around the foot of a fleeing fox. The edges of his coat brushed her exposed skin, diaphanous and soft, at odds with the steel of his hand and the hard glint behind his glasses as he shook her hand once, firmly.

As clearly as the feathers on her wrist, she swore she felt the gilded spider’s web cinch tight.

READ THE REST OF CHAPTER 11 ON AO3

[melanielocke]

Queer book recommendations/new books

Although it is sad Chain of Thorns was initially supposed to come out this week but didn't, there are plenty new books to read that I think many of you would enjoy to pass the time. Two of which actually came out November 1st, the same day ChoT was originally supposed to release.

Here they are!

I'll start with a Taste of Gold and Iron, which came out this August. It's an adult m/m fantasy romance featuring prince Kadou and his body guard Evemer. After an incident with a powerful ambassador, Kadou has to prove his loyalty to his sister, the queen, and investigate a conspiracy involving counterfeit coins in a world where certain people have the ability to touch-taste precious metals with their finger. It's a slow burn type of romance between a prince and his body guard. I really liked how Kadou's chronic anxiety was depicted. Evemer, on the other hand, is very stoic and duty driven. He tends to be quiet. He can go entire days only saying "yes, my prince" and "no, my prince". The book has both their POVs and includes discussions about ethics and a very intimate (not necessarily sexual) bathhouse scene which may have inspired a similar scene in my Trojan war AU from Alastember.

Next up is a Marvellous Light and a Restless Truth. These are the first two books in a historic fantasy romance trilogy set in the Edwardian era. Book 2 came out this tuesday and I just finished it. The first focuses on Robin Blyth, a young non magical man who is accidently given a government post to do with magic, which leads to him finding out magic is real. The magic society would just erase his memory and replace him with someone who knows magic, except that he gets cursed by the same people who killed his predecessor, and now he and his grumpy magical coworker Edwin Courcey have to get to the bottom of the conspiracy and also undo the curse. The second book continues the investigation in the same conspiracy, but instead stars Robin's sister Maud, who accompanies an old lady on a journey from New York to England on a ship. Except the old lady dies on the first day and now Maud has to investigate who killed her with the help of a scandalous magician called Violet. These books are a lot of fun, especially book 2 had me laughing a lot. Be warned there's a lot of sexual content in this series, more so than the other books. Book 2 has a lot of emphasis on sexual self discovery and involves Maud buying a suitcase of what is essentially the Edwardian era version of very explicit fic.

I cannot tell you a lot about Ocean's Echo by Everina Maxwell because it just arrived and I haven't read it yet. Like a Restless Truth, it came out November 1st. But it's very pretty and I wanted to show it anyway. I don't know if it's good yet. I did read Everina Maxwell's first book, which is Winter's Orbit, the book the Stars Collide draws a lot of inspiration from. As far as I know Ocean's Echo is not connected to Winter's Orbit, but is set in a completely different part of the same universe, where some people have developed mind control abilities. I'll tell you more about this book once I've read it, but as of right now I'd definitely recommend Winter's Orbit and have high hopes for this one.

Finally, I have Prince of the Sorrows and Lord of Silver Ashes by Kellen Graves. I put them on top of each other on the picture because the cover of the first book won't fall flat and otherwise it'd look stupid. The first book came out in March, while the second just came out last week. It's an indie published m/m fantasy romance series. Right now there are two books out, the second one came out just last week and arrived today. There's going to be more of them, but it's currently not set how many, though I did read the author might make it an eight book series. I guess that depends on if people buy it? I haven't read book 2 yet, since it just arrived, but I did read book 1 and really liked it. Saffron is a human changeling living in a fae world, and he will be sent back to the human world once he gets too old, unless he can get an academic endorsement to keep studying there. He accidently learns the true name of prince Cylvan, a brooding fae prince, and makes a deal with him to help him remove the power from his true name in exchange for an edorsement. At the same time, other human servants are getting killed and Saffron has to find out what's going on before he's next. I'll probably have to reread book 1 before starting book 2 because I don't remember enough, but I'm excited where this is going.

I hope this helps and let me know if you want more book recommendations in the future or if there is anything specific you're looking for!

@alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @life-through-the-eyes-of @styxdrawings @justanormaldemon @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised @amchara @all-for-the-fanfiction @imsoftforthomastair @ddepressedbookworm @queenlilith43 @wagner-fell @cant-think-of-anything @laylax13s @tessherongraystairs @boredfangirl16 @artist-in-soul @bottomdelioncourt @ikissedsmithparker

[erimeows]

Sunlight

MegaOp Week 2022, Day 6: 2/19 | Devotion/Loneliness

Optimus Prime shifted his weight back and forth with embarrassment and anxiety as he sat in the middle of the barren desert with crackly, saffron-hued, bone-dried earth beneath his stabilizing servos. It was early evening, the beginning of a sunset painting the sky an array of oranges, yellows, reds, and pinks that slowly took over the once brilliant bright blue that had been there. 

It probably hadn’t been his most genius idea to call Megatron and insist that the Decepticon leader come to his coordinates for what must’ve been the fourth or fifth time that month, but he was at the point where he couldn’t help himself. 

They were finally in the middle of peace talks after millions of years of fighting. They were far from having their issues fixed, but Optimus’s younger, more optimistic self seemed to be taking over and making him think that maybe... Maybe they could stop the fighting make something of their feelings after all the wasted years. 

Maybe they could be okay. 

They were still on earth, about to go back to Cybertron together with their teams to work out the kinks of the peace agreement. Optimus knew better than to get his hopes up, that this could all be a ploy and that Megatron could betray him at any time, but... He wanted something good between them to happen so bad that he was willing to take the risk.

When Megatron finally showed up (a half hour late, by the way), landing in front of Optimus in his vehicle mode and transforming back into his bot mode, Optimus’s vents caught. He was just as beautiful as always- and really, Optimus should’ve thought he was ugly; the matte grey that covered his frame was unappealing, the vermillion red that his optics were didn’t really match the rest of him, his cheeks were unnaturally defined, his lips were thin and chapped, his nasal was crooked from having it broken in battle so many times, and that ugly purple Decepticon symbol still painted his chest, but as surprising as it was, Optimus found all of those features attractive in a sort of unconventional way because they were Megatron’s, and he loved everything about Megatron from the inside out.

“What a... Romantic,” Megatron paused for the emphasis of sarcasm on the last word to sink in as he looked around, massive servos on his hips. “Choice of location, Prime.”

“It reminds me of you,” Optimus deadpanned, which earned him a glare in return. 

“Beautifully bright and vast? How flattering.”

“I was more talking about the dreary, dry, and dead aspects of it, but you’re allowed to see it however you wish,” His words were spat with a certain amount of playful venom that had Megatron sputtering for something to say in response.

It was true that, even though they were coming to resolving everything, they were still... Somewhat mean to each other, and yes, he knew that the feelings were there on both ends, but they hadn’t done much more than meet up like this a few times. They’d touched each other a little more, talked some, sat together like friends would, and while there would be fleeting moments of what felt like romance, neither of them acted on aforementioned feelings.

It was just complicated.

How were they supposed to have a normal relationship after so many years of fighting?

Logic told him that they weren’t meant to be, that he should just try with someone else or die alone, but Megatron drew him in like a moth to a flame without even trying. Megatron, despite his faults, was hot and fiery and passionate, warm and fervent and intense in a way that Optimus couldn’t help but love. He wanted to warm his chilly hands in Megatron’s, to have the mech all to himself on cold winter days and to melt into his touch when they were alone.

I had been lost to you, sunlight, flew like a moth to you, sunlight; oh, the tale’s the same, told before and told again; a soul that’s born in cold and rain knows sunlight, sunlight, sunlight.

“Alright, it’s time to fess up, Prime,” Megatron suddenly stepped forward and placed a hand on Optimus’s shoulder with a smug grin. “Why are we here this time? Feeling lonely again?”

“...Perhaps,” He shrugged Megatron’s servo off of him and looked to the side, thankful that his battle mask was covering his blush. It was true that most of the time, he was incredibly lonely. He was the leader, the one everyone else depended on, so he couldn’t connect with them on a personal level that was of equal grounds like he could Megatron, nor could he confide in them. Megatron was different, and Megatron understood, so when he was truly lonely like this, the Decepticon was the one he tended to turn to. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“Not at all,” Megatron answered and stared down, then back up at Optimus, vermillion pouring into sky-blue. It was amazing how they could communicate with just their optics, so many feelings swirling around and bouncing from one of them to the other effortlessly. Optimus didn’t believe in the concept of soulmates, but if he did, Megatron would surely be his. “In fact, I’m glad I’m worthy of your company, Prime.”

“Don’t mock me, Megatron. This is embarrassing enough as it is.”

“I didn’t mean it in jest, Prime,” Megatron softened, if only for a moment, expression uncharacteristically innocent and genuine. He had the brief thought that none of his team would ever believe him if he told them that Megatron had momentary slips like this when they were alone where he’d be the most gentle, caring soul in the universe, only to go back to being his mean and snarky self moments later like it hadn’t happened in the first place. “I’m glad that, out of all the mechs on your team or underneath you, and out of all the ones in my ranks, you’ve chosen me to call here to accompany you. I’m not sure how I’d cope were it anyone else after four million years of this nonsense.”

It was love, one that had been rekindled between them following this path of peace they were trying to pave. Optimus hadn’t said it yet, nor had Megatron, but he could feel it in how Megatron’s servo moved to caress his cheek and hear it in how the Decepticon talked to him so tenderly.

At last, can grant a name to a buried and burning flame as love and its decisive pain.

“Megatron, I... I wouldn’t choose anyone else, ever. I couldn’t. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.”

And it wasn’t quite a declaration of love, but it was enough, and he knew that. They weren’t two characters in a romance novel nor were they in a rush. They had already spent four million years building up to this, so why rush what could turn out to be a good, gradual, slow-paced, healthy thing for them?

Megatron didn’t say it back, either. He just nodded in understanding and looked away with red cheeks as Optimus unclasped his battle mask to reveal his face, which was terribly warm and flushed. 

“When we get back to Cybertron, we should go for a gallon of oil some time,” Megatron offered, and it was probably his best way of communicating those feelings of his. “My treat.”

“You’ve always been tight with credits,” Optimus chuckled. “What an honor... You buying me fuel. Can you believe it?”

“I know, I don’t want to believe it either,” Megatron scoffed and, seemingly some mix of impatient and flustered, pulled back from Optimus so he could start walking anxious circles around the Prime as he talked. Optimus simply stood in place and listened, staring straight forward. “Starscream would never let me live it down- Primus, Shockwave would demand he do scans on my processor to make sure it’s still functioning correctly, I... What am I doing? I should really-”

“Hey,” Optimus muttered, uncomfortable seeing Megatron nervous rather than angry or smug or any of the other emotions on the spectrum he was used to being shown by Megatron. Truthfully, though, rather than a spectrum of angry to smug, Megatron was a wheel of all sorts of things that he couldn’t quite decipher; that familiar anger, that familiar smugness, nostalgia, rare glimpses of happiness and sadness, and even this sliver of anxiety that he could feel coming from Megatron’s field in terrible waves. Finally growing sick of it making him secondhand anxious, Optimus placed a servo on Megatron’s shoulder to make the other mech stop and look at him. “Calm down. I know this is a crucial period for us and our relationship, but we can worry about what our comrades think afterwards. Right now, I want you to worry about me.”

“That’s awfully selfish of you, isn’t it?”

“I think I should be allowed to be selfish for once after all these years.”

“Hah,” Megatron snarked. “You’ve always been selfish. You’re just better at hiding it than I am.”

It was true, so all he could do was laugh, and Megatron did the same. Then, they were falling into each other’s arms with Optimus unsure of who made the move to hug who first. They ended up sitting on the ground somehow with Megatron in his lap and their arms wrapped tightly around each other. Eventually, they just became a helpless pile of limbs in the middle of the silent desert as the sun began to set. The air turned chilly, but Megatron, hot and comforting and reassuring, managed to make Optimus feel warm despite that- just like he always had, and just like he always would- no matter how far apart they were or how hard things got, Megatron was his ray of sunlight. 

Each day you rise with me, know that I would gladly be the Icarus to your certainty. Strap the wing to me; a death trap clad happily... With wax melted, I’d meet the sea under sunlight, sunlight, sunlight; oh, your love is sunlight.

[opalescient]

haikyuu fic recs — the most beautiful, lovely, breathtaking masterlist (vol. I)

so i’ve been binging fics to cure my sadness, and i thought that these select masterpieces were too magnificent to not be plastered on every billboard ever. some tore my soul into shreds, while others melted said shreds back whole, but all of them made me feel some form of sheer, unadulterated love, so. please enjoy! 🥰⛅️✨

note: all of these fics are exquisite and you should read all of them, but if you’re short of time, those with ☆ are my all-time favourites!

daisuga

butterfly in the subway by bigspoonnoya ☆ | T

Sugawara Koushi has no idea he's already in love with the man he's supposed to hate.

i lovelovelove how all the concepts tied in together like a perfectly wrapped gift

also very wholesome, made me feel so inexplicably warm. like, love can exist everywhere!!! despite everything!!! that’s just so inspiring

i revisited this many times, i think it was (one of) my first haikyuu fics and honestly. it set the bar so high and i have no regrets

you’d fit my lonely arms so perfectly by boxofwonder ☆ | G

“Oh. You're. Not Asahi.”

Calmed down enough that he can speak again, Daichi takes a deep breath, his smile settling on his face easily and wide.

“Not as far as I know, no.”

-

Suga accidentally calls a stranger instead of his best friend, tells him all about his burned batch of cookies before realising, and that particular mistake might turn out the best one he ever made.

major, major fluff

the buildup!!!

god this made my yearning for love so much worse

the perfect stranger by downmoon | T

There’s a man standing outside Suga's door.

Scratch that. Start over.

There’s a man he doesn’t know standing outside his door, holding his sleeping nephew in one arm, with another kid clinging tightly to his free hand.

so domestic please read the entire series from start to finish it has my whole heart

shoyou and tobio as their actual kids 🥺

these two parents are so in love it makes me wanna cry

asanoya

silica sand by lilien passe ☆ | G

Overworked, over-stressed programmer Azumane Asahi works on the top floor of a Shinjuku skyscraper. Nervous around his coworkers and terrified of the long drop on the other side of the window, Asahi falls into a miserable routine, only to have it broken one day by a simple message on the outside of the glass.

PLEASE. so well-written it makes my heart glow and ache simultaneously

made me ascend into asanoya heaven

such a brilliantly unique concept i love it A+

qué syrah syrah by loudlucy | M

Asahi wants to be a Master Sommelier. It's the highest honor in wine service, and the certification would allow him to live the life he's always envisioned for himself. Too bad the certification test is notorious for being the world's most difficult.

Most people fail their first time taking the exam, and Asahi is no exception, but he has more difficulty than most dusting himself off and getting back on his feet. Enter Nishinoya, a young man who shares his same dream, and who believes in their goals so fiercely it forces Asahi to embark on a delicious and sensuous journey of viticulture and validation.

AKA The Wine Tasting AU that literally no one even knew to ask for.

NOTE: You Do Not Need to Know About Wine to Understand This Fic!

another super unique concept!!! (´∀｀=)

my god their chemistry is amazing

the writing made me feel things ngl

stop my bones from wondering by cerasi ☆ | T

After graduation, Asahi hides from the world and needs help from a few sources to find his way back.

i want to write sonnets and sing ballads for this fic, it’s that beautiful

as always, Top Notch Writing *chef’s kiss*

no but i seriously... can i kiss the author? asking for a friend 😳👉🏼👈🏼

iwaoi

star-crossed by starlitcities | T

“I never thought I’d see the day that I’d envy a human,” Oikawa admits, showering himself in tiny suns, because he can actually feels those, like a fusillade of warm kisses on luminous skin that leave marks. To humans, they’d be freckles. Skin stars, Oikawa calls them. He didn’t make that up, a human did.

“Who created the rule that we can’t touch, I wonder,” Iwaizumi ponders, floating heedlessly through space.

“Maybe it’s because we can fly. Humans dream of flying, right?”

“I don’t think so.”

gsjsgsjshsjshsjsj star!iwaoi

they’re LITERALLY STARS

beautifulbeautifulbeautiful i love how the author conveyed the beauty of touch and humanity 🥺🥺

please bless yourself further with the sequel sun-kissed

conquering the great king by suggestivescribe ☆| E

Iwaizumi blinked his gaze over to Oikawa, "Last time was supposed to be a one time thing," he said, voice low, lacking some conviction.

Oikawa's lips twitched into a smirk and he brought them hovering just over Iwaizumi's, "One time thing, Two time thing, what's it matter as long as it's not a Relationship thing?"

yes.

in fact, this entire series (breaking the rules) features daisuga, kuroken, asanoya and it’s SO GOOD. every single one.

but anyway, character development!!!!! plot!!!!!!!!! writing!!!!!!!! i’m here for it all

tsukkiyama

campfire in your chest by deanpendragon ☆ | M

Kei realizes in their second year of high school that he’s probably been in love with Yamaguchi since they were ten. However hopeless he might be in handling that situation, Kei prays he’s at least not as hopeless as Hinata and Kageyama. But he just might be.

SO BEAUTIFUL

i am also a sucker for anything with stars, moons and all the love in between

no words to describe this work of art please just go read it and be blessed

under the lilac tree by raewrites | G

there’s a lilac tree in Kei’s backyard.

gorgeous in its simplicity

softtsukkisofttsukkisofttsukki

not as grandiose as the rest but the love written into every word, action and character is absolutely show-stopping

kagehina

saffron and cayenne pepper by dontsaycrazy ☆ | T

Cooking is hard. Even if you have your very attractive, very grumpy neighbor there to help you.

-

In which Hinata's lack of cooking skills are a danger to him and others. Luckily (or not), Kageyama is willing to teach him, if only for the sake of avoiding any burned down apartments.

the essence of their characters were captured so well and yet it’s like they’re completely new characters too? author, whoever you are, you totally owned this

this made me ship kagehina so hard

fluff! cuteness! lots and lots of cooing!

kuroken

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) by cosmogony ☆ | T

soulmate

/ˈsəʊlmeɪt/ • noun

A person who was made from the same star as you.

-

// Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives.

ahhh here it is. beautiful, heartbreaking, soul-emptying agony. you want angst? choke on this, and your tears later on.

no but seriously please read this if you haven’t you won’t regret it at all i promise

written from kenma’s perspective so you experience every depth and multitude of emotion he does and it’s so raw and- brb imma go cry for a sec

knot in my heart by hearthope | T

There’s a picture. Kenma blinks, looking at the little calico cat, being held up next to the face of a guy with stupidly messy hair and a crooked grin.

Cute.

The— the cat. The cat is cute.

Just the cat.

-

Kuroo starts spending a lot of time at the flower shop Kenma works at. Kenma definitely isn't into him.

okay so i like it when authors unravel a normally stoic character’s full scope of emotion and give them depth, sue me.

anyway, back on the fluff train!

i absolutely f*ck with flower symbolisms, cats and bitchy best friends who have dirt on each other. the layers of romance, friendship and everything in between is so prettily developed 10/10

bokuaka

the jacket you never returned by daisuga ☆☆ | G

He leaned over, kissed Bokuto on the cheek, and smiled bitterly, eyes watery.

He will never remember. Not now, not ever.

What they were will now forever be forgotten.

-

"You used to call me Keiji, Koutarou."

YOU USED TO CALL ME KEIJI, KOUTAROU!!!!!!!!!!

i beg you to listen to Spiegel im Spiegel when it’s first mentioned in the story please

i read this and screamed through my tears for a solid 1.5 hours. i rarely cry.

no f*ckin regrets though i read this thrice already and it hurts so good every time

rules by conesofdunshire ☆☆ | E

In which Akaashi Keiji is an overworked accountant who stumbles upon Bokuto one night playing the piano in the lobby of his work. Bokuto is different, that much is obvious. But with such supreme musical talent and a smile so dazzling it rivals the sun, there's just something about him that brings Akaashi back every night.

this fic. this fic has my whole, broken, sobbing heart and laughing soul

gorgeous. breathtaking. magnificent.

bokuto is so WARM and akaashi is so STRONG and they both find the solace they need in each other and it’s all i want for me 😭😭😭

in another life by littleluxray | T

Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.

The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.

this is a famous fic that i doubt any seasoned haikyuu reader wouldn’t know, and RIGHTLY SO BECAUSE, the PAIN. the pain. the pain.

i could feel my lungs shrivel up and my chest cave in on itself. fatigue and rest are things i struggle with too so this whole story resonated with me from start to finish, and it broke me. in like, the best, most revitalising way

i would read this again but it still haunts me at night. i need to heal from the first time before i have the guts to try one more time HAHAHA 😆💔😭

tea-stained polaroids by dalyeau | G

“I'm gonna date that,” Bokuto declares solemnly, and Kuroo throws a plastic spoon at his head.

mmmmmmm pretty photographer + personalised coffee cups + cute baristas = diabetic fluff fic

i smiled so much throughout this you have no idea. cheeks achey but so good

i may have squealed a little at the ending

kurotsukki

moonfall by batman | T

There is no unlearning Tetsurou, after all. There is only leaving him.

-

(Five things of Tetsurou's that ended up in Kei's home, and one that never left.)

the writing!!!!!! is pure beauty!!!! sheer grace!!!!!!! the construction of the AU and the romanticism and hsjsgsjshsj

didn’t cry but. heart ache and bittersweet smiles are another level of misery that is just as fulfilling

yea just pleasepleasepleaseplease go read it thank you and have a good day

hidden gem by realmSpinner | E

Things get complicated when everything you thought you knew about a guy changes, and they get even more complicated when you actually start liking those changes.

That guy working with you AND becoming your neighbor? That's just a cherry on top of the cake of confusion.

this AU was refreshingly different, and amazingly so

top!tsukki??? sign me the f*ck up

the whole plot, man. perfection.

pings by barfs ☆☆ | T

[5/02/16, 3:50:17 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Please wake up.

[5/02/16, 3:50:23 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I hate begging. You know I hate it.

[5/02/16, 3:50:34 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I bet you’re snickering at that, wherever you are.

[5/02/16, 3:50:53 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But, it keeps hurting and I don’t know why and it feels like shit and I know you could tell me why, but you’re not here and I would really appreciate it if you’d just wake up.

[5/02/16, 3:51:02 AM] Tsukishima Kei: You’re laughing at that too, aren’t you.

[5/02/16, 3:51:10 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Dying is probably up there in the list of top ten shitty things you’ve ever done, and you’ve done a lot of shitty things.

god.

you already know what’s coming, and yet. when it comes.

how the f*ck did the author make grief beautiful????????? (at the expense of me dying along with kei and everyone else i guess)

this fic will ruin you and bury you under all your pain (i hope you’re ready)

but also put you back together with the “sequel”

kyouhaba

close to the chest by darkmagicalgirl | T

It takes Yahaba thirteen years to realize he's different from the other kids, one to figure out how to hide it, and two more to learn to be happy just the way he is. Yahaba's journey ft. an extremely annoyed Kyoutani, best friend in the world Watari, and loads and loads of good senpai Oikawa.

cause i’m (not) alright with the slow, burn~

no fr, take slow and burn very seriously

overthinking yahaba? i understand. i do.

again, such an amazing fic; 10/10 recommend

safe here by crossbelladonna ☆ | M

“Raids are routine work,” Kyoutani tells to Yahaba before he can air the question. “Sometimes there is no sleep done until we accomplish something, say kill a certain ghoul. I guess they’re still going through the possibility that people in the accident are still alive huh?”

Yahaba quirks a smile, pushing his mask up his head.

“You’re alive.”

Kyoutani looks at him intently and all of the things that they’ve gone through for the past month seems to flash in his mind.

“Yes I am.”

i haven’t watched tokyo ghoul but i understood everything perfectly. such is the power of f*cking kickass writing

*cue ugly crying and a lot of unresolved angst*

like the grief??????? ruin me please thank you 🙏 (i think i’m a little masochistic)

rare pairs

mannequin men by surveycorpsjean ☆ | M

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/tuskishima]

The modelling world is full of hungry wolves, constantly clambering over the other, snarling and desperate. They fight, and they kill, trampling over anything in their path.

In this case, Akaashi fell in love with the wolves.

i did not expect this to be good, and it wasn’t. it was SPLENDID.

akaashi is so enamoured with them from the get go i love it

a tiny bit of angst that stabbed me in the heart, but the happy ending soothed it (thankfully, because if there wasn’t one i will sue)

characterisation, writing, plot development; everything is great. can you tell i’m running out of synonyms for ‘beautiful’

feel like gold by heronfem ☆☆ | T

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/kenma]

In which Kenma is unapologetic and comfortable with who he is, Akaashi learns a lot about himself in a short period of time, Kuroo is wildly in love and an eternal survivor, and Bokuto remembers that love doesn't cure mental illness, but having a support system sure helps a lot.

Or, the one where 4 young men get together, and are helplessly, hopelessly, utterly in love despite everything.

e.e. cummings?? poetry??? f*ck yes

so beautiful. i’m so star-struck by this fic it’s simply stunning

there are no words to fully capture how worth your time and heart and mind reading this fic is so please. do yourself a favour, and fall in love with this fic with me

the sky and guilt are the only feelings i have left by oopsthisisqueertoo ☆☆ | not rated

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo]

Akaashi is at his wits end. He feels nothing. He's quickly crumbling as a human being. He wants nothing but sweet release of death. In his fourth year of college he drafts a plan for his suicide. He is to graduate, publish writing for others to be inspired by, and slip quietly away. Shortly after, he meets a dog walker named Bokuto who asks him out and Akaashi reluctantly agrees. Nothing matters anymore and he treats Bokuto like an obligation. Until he's not anymore.

TW: SUICIDE ATTEMPTS & DEPRESSION

this was... this gutted me entirely and filled my body with too many shades of agony

arguably one of the best haikyuu fics i’ve ever read

so beautiful in the most painful way fathomable; strongly recommend

april to may by surveycorpsjean | T

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/tsukishima]

They're an odd family.

The four of them? Parents?

But still, they're a family.

So they'll support each other until the end.

aaahhhhh third gym as parents 🥺

so much fluff. i also love april and may

they’re still so in love there’s love in every millimetre of this fic :”)

that’s it for now! i’ll add more if i come across anymore good fics. i hope you enjoyed this list! if you have any requests/fic recs, or if u just wanna chat, feel free to just ask! hehe 🥰 k aight bye~

[vesperlionheart]

Western AU idea

Sakura came to awareness in a rush of panic, not recognizing her environment, only to settle into a jaded calm once the memories from the previous night came flooding back; bonfire, booze, boys. 

Oh yeah.

She rubbed at her face, pushing some of the hair of her eyes and grinned when she saw the exposed shoulder of her bedmate. He was dead to the world and lightly snoring so she made sure to keep quiet as she shimmed out of bed and found her things.

It was an hour or so after dawn, but townsfolk liked to rise a little later than the ranchers, so the town of Amegakure was still enjoying a soft awakening. People in the boarding house were going to be out and about soon, so it would be better to scuttle before anyone else saw her in the hallways.

Sakura picked up the colorful open front poncho but didn’t bother wearing it properly as she caught her hat off the bedpost. Boots in hand, she tip-toed out the front door, closing it as softly as she could without sparing her partner another glance.

In the hallway she crept up the stairs to the second, then the third floor, holding onto her boots before she found her own room. It took a bit more time to produce the key but eventually she managed to get the door open just in time to hear someone down the hall step out for the morning.

Safe inside she took the time to change, tidy up herself, and pretend she hadn’t tumbled a cute young visitor with the railroad company like a horny teenage. Not that anyone on two legs would judge her in Amegakure, but it was less the tumble and more the lack of wherewithal she wanted to hide. She had a reputation as being pretty reliable that she didn’t want to lose.

When she heard the knock on her door a while later she hesitated before recognizing the familiar pattern of knuckles on wood. Only one person knocked like that.

“Hey,” Temari greeted with a bright smile and sly eyes. “Missed you last night. Did ja have fun?”

“Plenty,” Sakura laughed before standing to the side to invite Temari in.

“Well you look rested and dressed enough for some breakfast. Don’t bother staying in, I’m treating, remember?”

Sakura didn’t remember, but she wasn’t the type of person to turn down free food so she grabbed her hat to carry out and locked the door behind her.

On the ground floor a few more bodies were bustling about, stirred by the warm smell of boarding house food. Shizune saw the pair of them coming down the main staircase and greeted them with a wink before clearing a table. Sakura tapped at Temari’s shoulder, nodding to the opposite side of the room where Konan was managing the front desk.

“I’ll join you in a second.”

“Fine, I know what you order anyway.” Temari left to grab them a table and let Shizune know the both of them would be eating in, ‘so please go easy on the coffee.’

Konan was in front of the oversized log book used to record the business of the boarding house and all its guests. She looked up when she heard Sakura coming and smirked as Sakura let herself in behind the counter.

“Temari was complaining when she couldn’t find you last night,” Konan chuckled with an arm extending in offering.

Sakura slipped in under the arm and hugged Konan around the waist, resting her head on the older woman’s shoulder. “I’m sure she found her own sort of fun.”

Konan hummed, scratching at Sakura’s scalp in comforting circles. “Your boy came down in a dizzy looking for you a little while ago. Do you want me to say something next time?”

Sakura had the decency to blush before giggling. “If you sent him out to the competition for breakfast I think you already had a clue.”

Konan made a noise of agreement. “Yes, he seemed the clingy type, but he dressed well and Nagato said he recognized the brand of watch, so the kid had that going for him. You’re not interested in a rich young beau?”

Sakura rolled her eyes, less motivated by material goods than the average unemployed freeloader. “I don’t care about those things. What did your other husband say about him that I should know?”

In the background the front door swung open and the visitor looked around before heading to the front desk. A few linger patrons were making idle chat at their tables, enjoying their coffee and breakfast.

“Yahiko’s been busy with the delay in mail so I’m not sure he has any advice for you in matters of romance, but catch him later and see if he has better news.” Konan pushed Sakura away enough to see her more clearly before kissing Sakura’s forehead. “We just want what’s best for you, precious. Don’t do anything you don’t feel comfortable doing.”

“Um, excuse me,” the visitor tried to interrupt, clearing his voice when no one bothered to look at him.

It was like a candle being extinguished as all the warmth rushed out of the older woman’s expression when she turned to the visitor. “Shut up before I make you choke, can’t you see we’re having a conversation,” Konan hissed, saffron eyes flashing in enough anger to make the visitor weak in the knees.

Sakura pulled on of Konan’s hands off her shoulders and kissed the knuckles, thankful for every day the older woman and her family took Sakura in. Sakura would always be indebted to the three of them, even if she paid them back a hundred times over, it would never measure up to the love she had received.

“I’m going to have breakfast, we can talk later,” Sakura whispered loudly.  

Konan frowned but rubbed at Sakura’s forehead once more before turning to the log book to start writing down the man’s information. It appeared he had a reservation.  

Across the room Sakura pulled out a chair for herself and sat down next to Temari just in time to thank Shizune for the morning special with coffee. “No Kankuro?” Sakura asked around a yawn.

“Not if I can help it,” Temari said with a roll of her pretty blue eyes. “He’s off with Yahiko trying to track down that missing mail coach. They should be back soon enough so let me enjoy the peace and quiet while I can.”

“Where have you been the last eight years? It’s never peaceful or quiet in this town,” Sakura laughed, stabbing at her eggs.  

“Quiet enough. I’ll take the drama of she said he said over straight up murder in the town square any day,” Temari snorted before drinking her coffee. “Damn. It’s bitter again.”

“Sugar is expensive, love,” Sakura replied on almost a reflex.

She was thinking back to the early years when Temari and her brother came in on a stagecoach, rescued by Yahiko. Like Sakura, the pair of siblings had come from a messy place where the law was a little more crooked and the justice just as dirty.

From the stories she heard, Sakura suspected Amegakure was just as bad as any other place before Yahiko and his crew cleaned up the town and turned it into the haven it was.  

“Are you going to tell me about the boy?” Temari’s teasing cut through Sakura’s thoughts.

“No,” Sakura snorted, amused at the attempt. Temari knew better than to ask if Sakura hadn’t already volunteered the information.

“At least tell me if he was better than Deidara,” Temari asked with a pout.

Sakura just laughed and ate her food, unwilling to bring up ancient history for the sake of her best friend’s amusement. Yahiko would murder Deidara if he caught wind of their trysts, even if Konan thought they were funny. Yahiko was the overprotective, energetic dad while Konan worried more about Sakura’s happiness as a women. Nagato fronted well enough to convince most people he was just as open minded as Konan, but behind his wife’s back Sakura knew Nagato hated more than one potential beau in his own way.

Temari thought their dynamic was hilarious and claimed to be jealous of Sakura’s adopted parents since all she had was a great grandma who was half dead and twice as cranky.

Whatever their conversation might have devolved into was interrupted when the front doors opened suddenly and a familiar figure ran in, pushing back his hood as he searched the room for his sister. Sakura saw him first, thanks to the position of her seat and waved him over.

“Kankuro, over here!”

Temari looked up, ready to tease her brother until she saw the look on his face. “Bro, what is it? Get over here, why are you looking like you saw a ghost?”

“It-we found out where he is,” Kankuro gasped, nearly out of breath as both Sakura and Temari went still. “We know where Gaara is! He’s in Avarice.”

Temari was the one who dropped her coffee but Sakura felt like she was the one who got punched in the gut.

[ariannjs]

AUNTIES OF KONOHA | A SasuSaku FanFic (One Shot)

This was a sudden idea but it was fun to write! The idea entered my mind when I saw a tweet by one of my friends in the SS fam wherein her mom and tita (aunt) stalked her crush. Haha. And then poof, I suddenly thought of incorporating the “Titas of Manila” vibe in it! 

If you’re a Filipino and you consider yourself a “tita” regardless of your age, I hope you enjoy this!

Cla, thanks to you, this was born! This one’s for you! I hope this fic would make you smile! Stay happy!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Naruto, nor any product, franchise, or establishment mentioned in this fic.

————

“Hi, Mars!” A high-pitched voice called the attention of Mikoto Uchiha while she was seated at one of the aesthetic tables of Cafe Mary Grace.

“Mare! You’re here!” Quite surprised, she stood up and leaned closer to her new companion to give her a beso on the cheek. “Kushina told me you might not be able to come, so I thought it’s going to be just the two of us.”

Mebuki Haruno slightly chuckled as they both sat down. It was also a surprise to her that she was able to attend their monthly hangout. Originally, she had somewhere else to go to, but she didn’t want to miss out on the updates with her amigas’ lives so she had to find a way to be able to meet with them. “Well, Sakura doesn’t have any classes so she took over all of my tasks for Sunlife today. Anyway, how are you?”

“Well, actually…” Mikoto suddenly picked up her Longchamp from the chair beside her and started rummaging its pockets. 

“What are you looking for?”

“My White Flower.” She sighed. “Actually, I was having some sort of a migraine this morning and it’s quite hitting me again now. Wait, where is it…”

Rolling her eyes, the caramel-haired woman clicked her small pouch open and gave Mikoto what she was looking for. “Here. And I thought Kushina was the forgetful one.”

“Oh, thank you!” Mikoto chuckled bashfully. “You’re still always the girl scout! I think I forgot mine somewhere at home since I used it right after I woke up too.” Opening the lid of the tiny bottle, she placed a finger on its mouth and waited until the liquid that could somehow miraculously heal all kinds of aches dampened the tip of her finger. She applied it on her temples and repeated the process until she felt the soothing sensation that she needed. “Tch. How I wish these headaches would stay away from me, but it’s returning every now and then.”

“Is that a sign that even at eighteen, Sasuke could still be a kuya?”

A subtle gasp escaped Mikoto’s lips as her gaze landed on Mebuki. And with the way the other woman wiggled her eyebrows at her, she couldn’t help but blush. “N-no, that’s not the case!” She cleared her throat and straightened herself on her seat. “Not at all. We don’t need more babies at home, Mare. Besides, I already have lots of baby succulents in my garden.”

Mebuki chuckled at how her friend struggled to keep her composure. “But 43 is not that bad, Mars. I’ve heard it’s still okay being pregnant at our age!”

“I don’t think Sasuke would appreciate having a sibling that is enough to be his own child.”

“Oh well, that could probably make your son more soft, you know? He’s so much like Fugaku! Imagine him taking care of an infant. I bet he needs that. Like a practice!”

Her laughter only received an eye roll from Mikoto. And if Mikoto hadn’t seen another familiar woman by the restaurant’s door, she was sure she’d have to endure Mebuki’s insistence on the matter for a couple of minutes.

“Kumares! Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry I’m late!”

Mikoto knew the newcomer wasn’t quite sorry at all, but she only grinned due to its familiarity. “It’s fine, Mars. We haven’t ordered yet.”

Kushina Uzumaki rounded the table and gave the two a beso before placing her grocery bags on the same chair where Mikoto’s bag was. “That’s great! Oh well. I wasn’t able to stop myself from dropping by at Watsons after I bought some groceries!”

“Who would be able to resist the temptation of Watsons? I could relate to you! I’m sure Mikoto could, too. Did you buy anything?”

“I wasn’t intending on buying anything, really.” The redhead chuckled. “But then I saw a new shade of this famous supermatte lipstick and I knew I needed to have one while it’s on sale!” She opened a small paper bag to reveal its content. Quickly removing the cap of the cosmetic, she twisted its body and showed the lipstick to her friends. “It’s gorgeous, dattebane!”

“Wow, that’s good for you! I’m kind of becoming lazy in shopping at malls recently. I often just hoard some stuff on Shopee and Lazada or ask Sakura to do the shopping for me. Besides, that’s kind of her thing nowadays too.”

Mikoto groaned slightly. “The joy of having a daughter.”

Mebuki chuckled. “Oh yeah, I remember you’ve always imagined that Sasuke would be a girl when you were still pregnant with him. But don’t worry, isn’t Itachi about to get married early next year? You’ll have a daughter-in-law soon!”

“You’re right.” There was a sparkle in Mikoto’s eyes upon hearing the idea. “Wow. You’re right! I didn’t realize that! Izumi’s such a sweet girl and I can’t wait for her to be officially part of the family soon!”

“My, my! I can’t believe things are going too fast! Just a little bit longer and you’re already going to be a lola, Mikoto!” Kushina’s unabashed laughter filled their side of the venue, but the redhead woman didn’t care about the heads turned towards her.

On the other hand, her statement made the Uchiha matriarch glare at her, and for a second, she somehow thought that she saw her eyes became red.

“I’m kidding, ‘ttebane! You know you’ll still be as charming as me and Mebuki regardless of our age! Anyway, why don’t we order first?”

“Good point. Cha! I’m starving. It’s almost lunch time anyway. Waiter?” Mebuki raised a hand to one of the waiters who instantly handed menus to them and asked for their orders.

Kushina was the first to respond, “I’ll get the signature ensaymada – kindly heat it, okay? – and please prepare a dozen of Cheese rolls for takeout. How about you, Mikoto?”

“Mine is...hmm, Chicken Inasal Sandwich with Tomato and Wansoy Salsa.”

“That’s all for you both? Alright, for me—wait a sec—ah, this! Dory and Saffron Cream Pasta and Mary Grace Hot Chocolate. You guys don’t want to add anything?”

Kushina shook her head, but Mikoto turned to the waiter once more. “Please add a cup of tea for me. Thank you.”

“We’re all set then!” The redhead hummed with delight once the waiter left for their orders. “So what’s up with you guys recently?”

“Nothing much, really. Same old, same old.” Mikoto huffed. “Fugaku still has lots of businesses he needed to attend to. But recently, he often brings Itachi to his trips, as training, he says. I don’t even see them much anymore until they came home last week.”

“Still the busy man, huh? Minato’s the same! I called him out about it. Just because he’s the Mayor doesn’t mean he needed to stay at his office and have overtime!”

Mikoto crossed her arms on the table, smirking in amusement that Kushina had the guts to call out her own husband. “That’s the First Lady of Konoha for you. And what did he respond to that?”

“Gladly, he’s been going home earlier lately. It makes me happy that I could prepare dinner for him again. The thing is, it’s quite difficult to tolerate him because it feels like he’s another teenager in the house!” Kushina massaged her temples as her friends snickered. “I’m not sure if he’s just messing with me or he’s trying to practice being sweet again.”

“That’s why Naruto isn’t maturing,” Mikoto quipped.

“You’re right, though. He used to tell me that Naruto got much of his traits from me, but maybe the immaturity actually came from him!”

“Oh well, what is it with our husbands and their busy lives? Kizashi opened another shop in Suna last month, so he hasn’t returned since then.”

“How fun! I mean, missing your husband sucks, but the all-girls company seems fun, ya know? With just you and Sakura at home!”

“Yeah. You and Mikoto are missing out.” The Haruno matriarch chuckled, and then he proposed, “Perhaps we could invite you both soon for dinner?” 

“Sounds good to me. Sometimes I can’t stand Sasuke’s brooding at home.”

“Count me in, too! Oh, hey! Food’s finally here.”

True enough, the waiter returned to their table with the meals they have ordered, making them pause to say a prayer and then instantly devour their food. 

“By the way, have you heard about this thing going on with Hiashi and Tsume?”

Two pairs of eyes glanced from their food to Kushina.

“You’re not talking about a romantic thing, right?” Mikoto asked.

“Actually, that’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

“That seems like a joke, however.” Mebuki laughed before wiping her lips with a table napkin. “With how reserved Hiashi is, and how...how bold Tsume is, that seems like an extreme contrast.”

“I’m still not sure if it’s true. But we all know how Hiashi lost his wife to cancer so many years ago. And how...Tsume’s husband left them because she allegedly scared him, right? They probably need some romance once again.” Kushina shrugged while slicing her ensaymada. “Oh, well. It’s kind of being passed on to their kids because Naruto complained to me days ago about how Kiba seemed to be hitting on Hinata recently.” She snickered.

“But aren’t Naruto and Hinata together now?”

Kushina nodded with glee. “Yes, Mare! I was pretty surprised my son even had the guts to ask a girl out! Especially the Hyuga!” She laughed. “But yeah. Hiashi suddenly had a soft spot for dogs, and it seems like he often brought Hinata with him whenever they dropped by at the Inuzuka’s Petshop to have their pup checked up. And as told by Naruto, Hinata often mentioned how Kiba tried to spend more time with her.”

“Jealousy, huh?” Mikoto laughed. “Ah, young love.”

“I know! Naruto was pissed! I could remember how I was a bit like that – or worse – when a few girls hit on Minato back then!”

They all laughed, remembering how all of them were present in some of those encounters wherein girls threw themselves on the town’s young-looking mayor.

“Our husbands quite have the knack to attract girls, don’t they? Good thing Fugaku’s the kind who never even glances at his fangirls. To think that he still has lots until now! I’m not sure if I’d actually be bothered by the fact that Sasuke seemed to have gotten such attitude too.”

Mebuki bit her lip to stifle a giggle, mind lost in a memory that she wasn’t sure at first if she should share with her friends. “Speaking of Sasuke, I wasn’t able to mention this earlier but…”

Mikoto turned to Mebuki at the mention of her youngest son’s name.

“Well, how do I begin...I’m a bit bothered about why my daughter wasn’t introducing any guy that wants to court her. She wasn’t even talking about any crushes ever since, like every other girl! I was quite afraid that Sakura already became a plant or something. But weeks ago, I’ve tried asking her if there’s a guy that she likes and then – poof! – she went all red!”

“I think I know where this is heading…” Kushina snickered, but Mikoto only raised an eyebrow, wondering if she wasn’t catching up on something.

“She never mentioned the name of the guy. But…” The Haruno smiled mischievously, causing her two friends to lean closer as if a top secret information was going to be revealed inside the decorated walls of Cafe Mary Grace. “She described him – weird hairstyle, dark eyes, fair skin; also...quickly annoyed, rarely talks to others but engages in conversations with her especially through chats, and the one she often tags in memes despite knowing that he wouldn’t find it so funny.”

“So you’re thinking that it’s Sasuke?” Mikoto placed a hand on her mouth, unsure about what she should feel. “But we can’t be sure on the last descriptions!”

“The thing is...I’ve stalked my daughter online.”

“Stalked.” The raven-haired woman gave her a pointed look.

“Yes.”

Kushina guffawed in her seat while waiting for the next revelations of her friend.

“You stalked your daughter, Mebuki? Don’t teenagers dislike it when we invade their personal space?” Mikoto mentioned with her fingers forming quotation marks in the air. “That’s what Sasuke usually tells me whenever I ask him who he’s always chatting with on––” And then she gasped.

Mebuki and Kushina were looking at her now, pairs of blue and green eyes shining with delight at the notion that their friend seemed to have puzzled the pieces on her own.

“Oh, goodness.” Kushina chuckled once again. “I haven’t heard anything from Naruto, to think that they’re all best friends! This is great, ‘ttebane! But you haven’t told us yet what you’ve seen when you stalked Sakura.”

Mebuki laughed before she even got to say anything, almost making a vein pop on Mikoto’s already throbbing head. Because, how could they understand the story if the teller was laughing midway? 

“Well, I didn’t see her tag Sasuke on any meme.” The caramel-haired woman restrained another cackle.

“So how were you—”

“It was actually the other way around! I don’t know how I landed on that random Facebook page but I saw a comment of Sasuke tagging Sakura on one of those doctor memes albums. And then my daughter replied with ‘HAHAHA you’re the one who’s annoying, Sasuke-kun! I won’t be like this to my patients one day!’”

Kushina and Mebuki giggled like teenagers then, leaving the Uchiha matriarch at a loss for words.

“Who would have thought, Mikoto? We might end up as co-mothers-in-law!”

“I didn’t...I didn’t expect this. I’ve always known Sasuke to be the shy one. Although he always seems aloof, he’s actually just shy. I never even realized he and Sakura have developed such close friendship...or more. I used to think that only he and Naruto are the ones who are very close in their team.”

“Well, I was surprised with Sakura too. I know she adores both her bestfriends, I just never imagined she could adore Sasuke in a different way. If anything, I’d actually be glad if my assumptions are true.” She winked at her amigas. “They basically grew up together. And Sasuke grew into a fine gentleman with great values, props to you and Fugaku.”

“Alright! We must do something about this then!”

The other moms faced the redhead, each with an eyebrow lifted inquisitively due to her sudden declaration.

“Remember when we were helping you and Fugaku pass on letters to each other in class?”

“Oh my goodness, Kushina, that was a long time ago!” A crimson stain appeared on Mikoto’s cheeks as she remembered how her two best friends and their then boyfriends (now husbands) actually contributed to the relationship between the campus heartthrob and their batch’s top student. “I don’t think we could do such a thing for Sasuke and Sakura though.”

Kushina scoffed. “Of course we wouldn’t do the exact thing! For one, you and Mebuki should allow them to go out. Like, alone.”

“Actually, I’m fine with Sakura going out. She even usually goes out for some shopping with Ino. It’s just that I have a curfew for her. Hmm...maybe I could extend that whenever she’ll be out with Sasuke.”

“The thing is, knowing my son, he wouldn’t be straightforward in asking her out even if he wanted to. He’s so subtle at everything! I think he actually needs some push.” Mikoto nodded to herself as if she already has a to-do list of her own. Her two other friends grinned at each other, noticing the determination in the Uchiha’s eyes that seemed to be filled with hesitation moments ago. “You know what? This is actually a good idea. I don’t want Sasuke to end up being alone. He’s already getting a bit lonely now that his brother is not always around. And Naruto already has a girlfriend to give much of his time to.”

“Exactly!” Kushina clapped her hands, thrilled that they were going somewhere with this SasuSaku mission of sorts. “Those are great contributions, Kumares! I guess mine would have something to do with my son. Let me see...oh! Wait a minute! What if I ask Naruto to invite Hinata, Sasuke, and Sakura for some sort of a double date? Oh my gosh! That would be so sweet, dattebane!”

The three women gazed at each other with silly grins on their faces. They only wanted to hangout and talk about life in general, what they didn’t expect was that they would end up strategizing as if they were gearing up for a school project, much like their High School days.

“Cha! It’s getting cold here.” Mebuki suddenly complained, immediately getting her small pouch that seemed to fit every possible item in it, which included a shawl that she brought out. Placing the shawl around her shoulders, she heard a familiar voice from behind her and for a second, her friends gave her meaningful looks that she didn’t quite catch at first.

For the one who had just entered Cafe Mary Grace was none other than her beautiful (and single) daughter.

“Oh, Sakura! You’re done meeting with everyone for their Sunlife insurance?”

“Yes, mom. I also picked up your box of Vitaplus goods,” the pink-haired maiden said while handing a package filled with health drinks.

“Wow. I didn’t know you’re into that.”

“Nah, Kushina, I have no time for networking, really. But I wanted to help a friend who’s into this, so I sometimes buy their big bulk. Besides, my future doctor here is kind of obsessed with these healthy stuff!”

Sakura only shrugged before greeting the other women in the room, “Hi, Tita Kushina and Tita Mikoto!” She then approached them with a beso on their cheeks. But for some reason, she was stuck in place when the Uchiha matriarch surprisingly hugged her, leaving her wide eyed.

“Great to see you, Sakura!”

She chuckled shyly as she pulled a chair from an empty table near them. “Um, thank you, tita. You too.”

“It’s so nice of you to help out your mom today, Sakura. Thanks to you, we were able to catch up with Mebuki today!” Kushina said. And then she smirked. “So how are you and Sasuke?”

Mebuki and Mikoto threw glances at each other while stifling their laughter. As always, it was Kushina who would do things right off the bat.

Sakura parted her lips in surprise, eyes blinking as all the titas in the table leaned closer to wait for her reply. “I...I’m fine? I think Tita Mikoto would know about Sasuke-kun, though.” She scratched the side of her head.

“That’s not what we mean, dear.” Mikoto smiled, grasping her hand from across the table.

“Right. How are you and Sasuke?” Her mom asked this time.

Her eyes widened at the implication of the hanging question. She fidgeted in her seat, looking down with the hope that the blush on her cheeks wasn’t prominent for them to see. “H-how are...we? But...t-there’s no such thing, mom.” 

The three women’s shoulders slumped, excitement suddenly leaving their system. Sakura was still trying to grasp the reason behind the on-the-spot interrogation when someone’s phone buzzed.

Saved by the bell, she thought.

It was Mikoto’s. A smile graced her lips when she saw the name on her caller ID. “Hello, Sasu-chan? Yes, we’re still here! Oh, you’re already right outside? Alright, thank you. I’ll be there in a bit.” She returned her phone inside her Longchamp before facing her friends with a beam. And for some reason, Sakura didn’t know if that was a good thing. “My son is there to pick me up. Let’s go?” 

Definitely not a good thing.

The other women agreed, settling their bill and gathering their stuff before exiting Cafe Mary Grace.

Once outside, they all saw a black Audi with Sasuke leaning casually against its side. Kushina, Mebuki, and Mikoto couldn’t help but grin like Cheshire cats. Sakura, on the other hand, shifted her weight from one foot to another, gripping the Vitaplus box in her arms even tighter.

When Sasuke sensed their presence, he glanced at their direction, eyes slightly widening at the presence of someone he didn’t expect to be there. But he quickly brushed it off and approached his mom, giving her a kiss on the cheek before gently lifting Kushina’s hand and pressing his forehead against it. He repeated the honoring gesture to Mebuki, which the woman responded with a cheery “Bless you!”

For a brief moment, it was as if the three elders were holding their breaths, bracing themselves while they waited to see how Sasuke would greet Sakura. 

Would he hug her, kiss her, hold her hand, or what?

Their expectations have faltered, however, when Sasuke simply turned to Sakura’s direction and gave her a nod. 

A simple, small nod.

That’s it? Mikoto blinked in surprise, slightly disappointed with her own son. He definitely got that from Fugaku! 

Sakura smiled in response at his raven-haired childhood friend, grinning a bit wider when she noticed the tinge of pink dusting his cheeks. Thankfully, their moms and aunt failed to see it.

“Do you mind if we give them all a ride?” Mikoto then asked once she recovered.

Sasuke – being Sasuke – simply shrugged and unlocked the car, opening both doors for them before assisting Kushina with her grocery bags to be placed in the trunk. As Kushina and Mebuki entered the back seat, he returned to get the box that Sakura was holding so he could also place it beside Kushina’s groceries.

He found his mom standing by the passenger seat then, with a hand on Sakura’s shoulder as if stopping her from going inside the car beside her mother. “Mom, what are you waiting for?”

“I’m actually thinking that Sakura should take the passenger seat so I and your titas could still talk at the back.” 

Sasuke quirked an eyebrow at her. “Couldn’t you do that with you in the front seat?”

“No!” Three voices startled him and Sakura, though he was just asking the question to his mom.

“Well, you see, they agree with me.” Mikoto grinned. “I mean, I just really missed your titas, Sasuke-chan.” She intentionally completed Sasuke’s name to better gain his favor, well aware that he hated being called with his childhood nickname in front of other people. “Besides, while we talk, you and Sakura could have some—I don’t know—catch up or something.”

There was a pregnant pause after that as Sasuke weighed the predicament, sensing something strange. But when he realized that there was no point discussing a petty thing, he finally nodded at his mom and waited for her to get inside the car beside Mebuki. He closed the car door and waited for Sakura to enter the front seat next, before closing her door as well and rounding the car to go to his side.

Internally squealing, the three women at the back seat gave each other knowing glances that Sakura was able to catch through the rearview mirror.

Her neck suddenly felt warm the moment Sasuke entered the car. There’s this weird pressure of being this close to him and having the elders behind them, watching them carefully contrary to what Mikoto said that they would still converse with each other.

She busied herself with her phone then. And upon unlocking it, she noticed the latest Facebook notification that appeared on her screen: Sasuke Uchiha mentioned you in a comment.

Biting her lip to fight her smile from growing, she threw a glance at the man beside her. What made all her tension go away was the fact that he was also surprisingly looking at her with a smirk playing on his lips.

And then Sasuke drove off to bring the titas home.

————

June 2019 | @AriannJS

————

Some terms that might need definitions:

Mars/Mare/Kumare - (Tagalog; derived from a Spanish word) appellation for a female close friend; appellation for your child’s godmother 

Kuya - (Tagalog) big brother

Lola - (Tagalog) grandmother

Tita - (Tagalog) aunt

Amiga - (Spanish/also used sometimes in the Philippines) female friend

Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think! :D

[minah-delacroix]

games, changes, fears

Minah Delacroix, Paris - France, Summer of 2019

There’s a two-pound Scottish lobster staring at Minah.

Surrounded by luscious fresh salad and an array of exotic sea fruits, with its gray blueish tail and saffron-colored pincers, the crustacean stares at Minah with its lifeless dark eyes full of judgment and disapproval.

Truthfully, the dead animal is not genuinely staring at Minah. And she knows it, but she’s been sitting at Alain Ducasse’s best table for over an hour now, and her mind is starting to run wild amid the voids within the conversation with her boyfriend and the spans of uncomfortable silence settling between them.

Julien Toubeau is all cheerful smiles and gentle eyes, hair perfectly tussled to the back and impeccable outfits that seem to cost more than Minah’s couture dresses. He’s the kind of devastatingly handsome that could easily fit the main role of any rom-com movie or a modern Jane-Austen-esque literary character. However, today Julien Toubeau is all frowns, curt answers, and intimidating glares. If Minah was a little bit lesser of character, she would probably be afraid of him.

But she isn’t.

There’s also a sharp sting of guilt preventing Minah from saying anything that can potentially hurt her boyfriend or simply leaving the premises of Paris’ most exclusive restaurant with some sort of dumb excuse. Not to mention her strong love and respect for Julien. Because yes, they’re probably going through some issues at the moment and she might doubt her romantic feelings for him, but she truly loves Julien. It might not be the kind of love he expects in return, but at the end of the day it’s love nevertheless and it’s what’s stopping her from breaking his heart.

For now.

The Delacroix residence always seems to radiate the same dainty and sublime glow that’s reminiscent of palatial historical constructions. Even for someone with Julien Toubeau’s ancient lineage and aristocratic heritage, it results impossible not to feel the tiniest bit intimidated by the majestic air of “La Maison de Breteuil”, in the chic 7th arrondissement of Paris. The young man is briefly pulled off from his concerns regarding Minah and their feeble relationship as the giant building materializes on the horizon and his car goes through the main gate. A message etched on the stone of one of the columns reads “Bienvenue à la Maison de Breteuil.”

Once the driver parks Julien’s grandfather’s Alfa Romeo Lugo Spider in front of the marble staircase, Julien pushes the door open and offers a hand to help Minah out. She smiles politely —almost forcefully, in Julien’s opinion— and grabs his hand.

“Thanks for the lovely evening,” Minah says. Unsure of what else she’s supposed to tell, she tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I’ll... see you around?”

“Okay” Julien nods simply. There hasn’t been that many moments in his life he could consider ominous, but there’s something in the way Minah looks at him that makes Julien understand this is definitely one of them. He knows perfectly well what’s to come. He’s known for weeks now and while it is quite evident for someone who’s known Minah since she was a little girl, demanding and mischievous, that always managed to get whatever she wanted, the way she wanted; somehow, Minah seems not to be fully aware of it yet. Or maybe she is, but she’s still refusing to let go of what Julien represents…. The security of a relationship that has apparently always meant to be, that safe place where she’s always known she’d be able to return even if the entire world failed her.  

Minah and Julien have grown up together since the earliest of their years. They became partners in all their childhood exploits and they’re each other's first love.  It has never been a secret for any of them that their grandparents regard a potential relationship between them as a means to an end, which evidently is to consolidate the power of their families. There are not many households the Delacroix consider deserving and of the same social status as theirs, so such incipient romance is considered to be the perfect alliance to merge the wealth of two of the most renowned families of the Wizarding World.

Almost a bulletproof plan if it wasn’t for Minah’s unplanned change of heart.  

The details of how Minah Delacroix ended up head over heels for a childhood acquaintance, —turned best friend, turned the boy who broke her heart—, followed by a whirlwind of short-lived romances that came to a head when she started dating the guy of her —teenage— dreams are still up for debate.

But now there’s an invisible line separating the old Minah —the one who adored Julien with the intensity only young giddy love is capable of—, and the Minah who’s chased some type of thrill in the arms of several boys over the past few months. There’s a before and an after for Minah Delacroix and as terrible as it sounds it was the realization that not even her privileged status or the beauty everybody claims she possesses could guarantee her being loved back. It’s turned Minah’s world upside down.

Lee Sungjae has ruined her, or better said, his rejection and disregard for her feelings have.

But she doesn’t blame him. After all, everybody is bound to experience the struggle and trauma of unrequited, one-sided love at least once in their lifetime. And despite her It-Girl status and celebrated model-esque attractiveness Minah supposes she’s not any different.

It’s nearly been a year since Minah saw Sungjae the last time and in her quest to avoid the embarrassment and heartache, she’s basically cut everything —and everybody— remotely related to him of her life. She moved back to Paris, much to her aunts' joy and now she’s trapped in a relationship that initially looked like a magic formula to mend her heart, but now only makes her feel constricted and depressed.

The first days with Julien by her side were thrilling and beyond fulfilling. Minah felt elated, beside herself; nothing was important enough for her to get her head out of the clouds. Everything was almost perfect. The excitement of their respective families, the triumphant looks in their friends’ faces, even the relief with which they looked at her... It all satisfied Minah in a way she could hardly explain. But all those feelings were as short-lived as her romances with the son of the Hermé-Fontaine widow or that one Griffyndor guy from her Potions class, —whose name she never learned—, and now all bliss, delight —whatever it is Julien made her feel— has worn off and she’s just tired and guilty. Not to mention Julien himself looks off. He keeps trying but at moments like this, he barely seems interested in keeping her anymore.

Minah has started to believe all the time she has dedicated to whatever they have, would probably go to waste. She would be lying if she claimed she’s not disappointed, but most of the time it’s Sungjae and his gummy smile that occupy her thoughts, the way she still misses him although she hasn’t seen him in what seems to be forever, their long conversations about everything and nothing... and she simply doesn’t know how to deal with that.

Some nights, before going to bed and with the mental clarity she only seems to find when she’s about to drift off to Morpheus’ territory, Minah thinks that maybe this is all her fault, that she could’ve saved herself all the pain and moping with a simple visit to London or an even simpler phone call to Sungjae. Sometimes she dreams about going back to England and for very brief and fleeting moments everything makes horrible sense in the back of her mind. There’s only one way to solve things and it’s crystal clear that it starts by walking away from Julien. For good.

At times Minah is truly convinced she’s gathered the determination to let go of him…

But tonight is not one of those times so she slowly turns around, ready to walk into the enormous castle-like construction the Delacroix Manor is, thoughts racing through her mind and melting into the obscurity her brain has been harboring for weeks now.

“Goodnight” she mutters a barely audible farewell and begins to walk away, leaving a very appalled-looking Julien behind her.

“Minah” In one last impulse of remaining hope, Julien dares to call his girlfriend’s name. She turns on her heel before reaching the front door and eyes him expectantly —nervously, judging by the way she fidgets with the ends of the cashmere scarf wrapped over her shoulders. “I love you” he says simply.

Now it’s time for Minah to stand motionless and stare at Julien as he turns around and walks back to his car. It’s a sight that forces Minah to admit she has been dragging this too long simply because she refuses to face the reality of potentially losing Julien as a friend and the pain her own stupidity will cause them both. But it’s hard to see reason past the pain, and so Minah would rather avoid the very obvious solution than having to pronounce the words she dreads so much.

When she calls after him with the endearing “Jules” she’s used for as long as their memories allow them to remember, Julien is startled, but he still blinks in surprise when Minah strides toward him and wraps her arms around him pressing her cheek against the soft fabric of his turtleneck.

“Stay” she whispers like she might startle him if she speaks too loud.

Once Minah shuts the carved door of her room behind her, Julien wastes no time before pressing her against the wall, lips ghosting over her shoulders, hands sliding down the exposed skin of her back, where the Marchesa dress she’s wearing dips low enough to reveal her spine. Minah does her own part helping Julien off his blazer, her hands are soon pressed against the firm muscles of his chest as he moves to kiss her mouth, sealing their lips together in quite a harsh movement that misplaces Minah for a quick second.

She tries not to think too much about it, but it’s strange to realize that only minutes ago she thought about putting an end to this. As sad as it is to recognize, Minah becomes aware that in spite of her wishful yearning, the only solid and real thing in her life at the moment is Julien. But it’s still not enough.

Minah refused to accept it at first, but as Julien’s fingers grasp her thighs, her legs wrapped around him and their fronts pressed against each other, she finally understands that all the things that ever thrilled her have suddenly lost their appeal. Champagne tastes bitter in her mouth, trips to the French Riviera no longer interest her and even Julien with his tall stature, sharp features, and generally sweet smile has been deprived of his charm in her eyes.

The mindless fucks with no strings attached that she used to enjoy are not quite as thrilling and Minah’s body doesn’t respond eagerly to Julien’s touches anymore. When she clasps her hands around the back of his neck, Minah doesn’t feel the warmth of his body sending a frenzy through her nerves. For some reason, she hates it now and desperately wishes this would end soon. But Minah has been defining herself through her relationship with Julien for so long that it’s almost devastating to realize she might not love him as nearly as much as she thinks after all.

At this point, Minah should probably admit that she misses Sungjae desperately and that maybe she never really forgot the way her lips meshed against his although she’s been trying to replace the haywire in her chest he made her feel with a long list of boys that couldn’t even be compared to him.

By now, Minah should probably admit that It is Sungjae who owns the flutter of her heart.

Minah’s head spins with the reality of it all when Julien throws her on top of the jacquard silk covers of her bed. However, she doesn’t tell him to stop yet because she keeps trying to brainwash herself into believing she doesn’t want him to.

“Minah” Julien’s voice whispers right before his lips crash against her neck “I’ve missed you” he says peppering her jaw with kisses

The girl nods dismissively, short gasps escaping from her mouth as his hands move to cup her breast, something that would usually have Minah melting, but only makes her back press against the mattress as though she didn’t want him to touch her at all. She doesn’t want this anymore, she doesn’t enjoy the physical contact and Julien’s presence. Hell, she doesn’t even want to talk to him.  

Sungjae, she thinks in some insidious part of her brain, the one that only seems to be working when she’s trying her best not to think at all. ‘You want to talk to Sungjae’ a voice echoes in her mind, but Minah is determined to keep going, to stop her mind from straying to that goddamned night she wants to forget once for all.

Minah attempts to silence the voice inside her head by letting her hands travel from Julien’s back to the front of his chest and down towards his pants.

“I’ve missed you too” she simply says, pulling away from his lips to unbuckle his belt, fingers moving almost reluctantly. Julien doesn’t miss that last detail.

“Minah, just stop” he lets a frustrated sigh, pushing her hands away and moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

“What?” She asks looking positively confused, the mattress dipping as she takes a deep and weary breath. She’s too mentally exhausted to even push herself to sit up, so she closes her eyes and covers them with her hands, suspecting what’s to come.

“You don’t want this” Julien is shaking his head, frowning at Minah as though he is expecting her to deny it so he can finally snap at her.

But Minah doesn’t. She bites her tongue in an effort to stop herself from further hurting Julien. Though honestly at this point there’s no use denying it. Minah doesn’t even think she wants to deny it anymore. She doesn’t want any of this. That she knows for sure.

It’s quiet in the room for almost a minute that seems to stretch for hours when Minah finally gathers herself and slowly sits up.

“It’s not that-“ her words trail off into silence, suddenly beaming aware that she’s spent so much time running away from the truth and she can’t keep escaping anymore. In some sort of devious way there’s a sense of relief invading her chest.

“It is what it is, Min” Julien attempts to keep his tone unwavering when he calls her shortened name —a sign of affection between them— but ultimately fails “You’re not thinking about me, are you?” The question takes Minah by surprise. She stutters puzzled, but Julien doesn’t wait for an actual answer —which Minah is thankful for—, before going on “And it’s painfully obvious this is not working anymore. You might be here physically, but your mind is somewhere else” A sense of hurt flashes in his eyes as quiet settles between them once again.

It’s the sort of quiet that makes every thought in your head amplify ten times in volume, so Minah’s brain becomes a jumbled mess of thoughts that range from guilt to self-awareness. And then mental clarity kicks in.

“I’m sorry, Jules” she simply says, placing a hand over his that’s resting on the bed.

“So am I” he says, his Adam’s apple visibly moving up and down.

Minah wants to tell him there’s nothing to be sorry for. Sometimes people just fall out of love. One moment someone is the center of your world and the next day all those things that used to make your heart flutter make you feel nothing. That’s nothing to be sorry for.

“It’s the British guy, no?” Once again it’s Julien who dares to speak the words Minah is not brave enough to say. She doesn’t reply but to be honest she doesn’t need to because the way her expression morphed, has already given her away. There’s a granting silence and then Julien chuckles softly  “I wish I could be mad at you, but apparently I have no self-respect when it comes to you” his words could’ve easily come out as bitter, but he says them as he sneaks an arm around Minah’s shoulder and his hand caresses hers soothingly.

“I’m sorry” She repeats, convinced that the words are not enough, but she might as well try.

“It’s fine” Julien goes quiet for a moment and Minah rests her head on his shoulder. “But maybe you should back to London”

This is where she is supposed to say something, maybe deny that she is breaking up with him to go back to London or attempt to fix what’s left of their relationship, that lifelong friendship they both treasure so much. But she doesn’t say anything, she only shallows heavily as she catches a glimpse of herself in the golden mirror of her vanity.

There’s a pale, lifeless face with sunken cheeks and lipstick smeared looking back at her. Minah supposes this is how endings look like, but somehow this one is not as nearly as painful as she imagined them to be.  

...

[treason-and-plot]

Further Replies to Liam & Saffy

@sweetnovember77

Somebody HELP! This dude Liam doesn’t understand boundaries, and doesn’t fully grasp that he is actually committing a crime. My goodness. He actually believes that he is in love, and Saffy puts all her energy into consistently feeding this guys insanity.

Is he committing a crime, though? Under the Crimes Act, it is an offence for an individual to have sexual relations with a person aged 18 or under who is under that individual’s “special care”. In the eyes of the law the victim is taken to be under the special care of the offender if the offender is a school teacher, and the victim is a pupil of the offender. In December last year, the Bridgeport Criminal Court of Appeal ruled that a high school teacher was not guilty of three counts of having sex with a person who was 18 years of age under his “special care”. The defendant teacher successfully argued that because the Act defined “special care” in a school setting as strictly being a teacher-pupil relationship, and because the student was not in any of his classes at the time of the sexual relationship, she could not have been under his “special care”.

Liam could also use this defense, because Saffron is not in any of his classes.

@streetlightaurora

I thought it was a dick pic 😂 Also, Saffy... He probably already wrote that poem... FOR HIS WIFE!

LMBOOOOOO yes that does not seem outside the realms of possibility!

@skyburned

I had to think about this. Naive as all of us are at that age and relentlessly invulnerable (I will never die in a car accident). Adults seem like foreign forms of life-I don’t remember ever even realizing that they felt vulnerable and would probably have considered it weird. He’s giving away too much with the ‘despair’ line. 

No matter how mature, and cynical and jaded and Saffy regards herself as being, there is still a part of her that is thrilled to have had a poem written about her, especially by an older man. Her vanity is immensely flattered, and she is also not immune to the Byronic romance of it all. In just one simple gesture, Liam is no longer a morally corrupt adulterer, but a misunderstood and tortured soul! 

[cornus27florida]

I have 2 versions of tier list, but I want to tell the reasons I choose to the second one instead where I could editing the row title - the nope is kinda too big when I honestly simply just could saying they're my NOTP (non-one true pairing, just not shipping them) - and there's tier specifically for 'complex' relationship - which unexpectedly not putting WhitPelnia IMO but instead Blaine and Maria related ships lmao

The First (using phone aka Mobile)

The Second (PC):

-> BTW anyone could changes the text of the row, and iirc could add photos too but I just forgot how to do so

I'll explain the reasons of why they put on those 5 rows;

OTP: Gwen/Frederick (classic main troupe and main ship, the only ship that has in-series name 'gwenderick' although one could call 'freddolyn' as well, green-cuties, even the one with rocky start but has the nicest romance development hence why need to be on my OTP list), Jack/Leelathae (the pioneer of hot guy/non-mainstream beauty pairing, and if only Lilyth could lives longer I could see how good she is as a mother :""), Prez (Calpernia)/Whitney (don't blame me to ships them even thou yes complicated history and shouldn't happen right now - but the current redeemed Whitney and Prez together is my OTP), Orson/Monika (how I love a nerd couple bonding over a high fantasy story together, they have roads ahead to be truly healthly ship for sure but not stopping me ship them rn), Nell/Jollie (I literally making headcannon of their wedding, WO-ed by Frederick and the cake made by Gwen lol. Adorable demisexual lesbian ship that comes out unexpected but welcomed), Syrah/Saffron (before the reveal that Syrah has 'hots' to Saffron in the past, their chaotic dynamic is so obvious lol - LambCat sneakily makes lot of their interaction)

They're cuties together!!!: Lorena/Lance (is so cutie espc the first ever kiss in the CPC at the cheek, is saddening how the ship becomes after the gala but I hope at the very least they could staying close friend), George/his sommelier (simply not my OTP tier but I am really glad that tthey're happy and already planning their wedding!), Jamie ships (both with sweets and Leopold) are cuties (-just I am not sure is should taking as seriously on OTP tier or not, it ends as bromance is oki as well), Thermidora/Benedict (not on OTP because lack of interaction as it mostly flashback.. and Thermidora has a bit swing to 'hot summer lobsters' lol)

Kinda ship.. but (so) complicated: emphatizes the complicated to the three following characters - Beckett, Maria, Blaine - as Blaine too damaged rn as result of getting abused - Maria too swept up with the fantasy of romance to makes her priorities not right - Beckett although indeed a honest and sweet guy, but need to works up to appreciate other people better (the fatal flaw for example is not heeds Frederick's warning, also if he becomes someone boyfriend rn he'll be too overprotective) = hence any ships involving these 3 characters are complicated lmao even thou I ship. Also Lorena and Suzanna is complicated as a ship, born from oblivious/a bit narcistic hate that involved loving a same guy

Plantonically as Friends :D : it's completely unintentional that all 'ships' that I like them to be platonic as friends are same gender characters, but if Gwen cares more to Leopold as a friend then it could put in there + Lance/Lorena sometime fell into this category as Lance sometimes regarding Lorena as one of his buddy instead fiancee. The platonic ships: Aurelia/Renee, Saffron/Whitney, Prez/Syrah, Isolde/Leelathae, Abbi/Gwen + and if I could add ships then : Lance/Suzanna, Aurelia/Gwen, Frederick/Whitney, Gwen/Prez, Frederick/Prez, Abbi/Syrah/Monika, Curtis/Whitney, Whitney/Monika, Lance/Lorena/Suzanna

NOTP: that stands for Non-One True Pairing-I simply not shipping them but the feelings i had are varies from neutral to hate it - Suzanna/Blaine's fan club vice prez is neutral but I am afraid of the toxicity 'the ship' births, no hate and more of neutral to Gwen/Leopold but TBH I am used to be afraid it becomes canon but LambCat twists to make Leopold the unexpected wingman for Gwen/Frederick by giving solid advices to both character astonishing me, also all ships related to Leland is instant hate lmao~the only good thing from with Isolde is the birth of Plaid Princes, and with Jackie is a nice plot twist of reveal of his evil plan for the CPC story

cpc ships tier list

lmk if there's some i forgot to add!! disclaimer that i dont ship everything on here i literally just added leland/isolde out of obligation

[endless-vall]

So close, yet so far - Marc Antony x MC fanfic

Summary: After Xante told Antony about Acilia’s plotting with Cassius, things get heated between her and Antony, and they cross a line from which they may never return.

Author’s notes: BEWARE! ANGST AHEAD!

Surprisingly enough (or not), my main LI in ACOR is actually Cassius.

I’ve made a second MC, solely for the purpose of romancing Antony as well since I did find him an interesting & intriguing character. 

The thing is - thought - that I could see my main MC romancing Antony as well, I just can’t see them working out in the long run. She would always choose Cassius in the end (in my playthrough, she only seduces Antony for his help, nothing more) but in fanfics you, that’s the fun part, you can do pretty much anything you want, and it doesn’t have to be part of your own ‘canon’ world.

I am planning on writing an Acilia/Cassius & Saffron/Antony fanfics in the future, but I’m not sure when it’ll happen. In the meantime, enjoy this one! 😄

Tagging: @cora-nova @lilyofchoices @paisleylovergirl@dandeservestheworld @mfackenthal @quacksonlover@blackcatkita @writtenbycandy .  Let me know if you wanna be tagged in future works for Antony x MC/ACOR/Perma tag! Let me know if you want to be untagged! ^^  I might’ve messed up the tagging, so don’t be shy to ask to be added/removed!

Antony’s last words echoed in her mind. Acilia chewed on her lower lip.

An unfitting act for a courtesan, but thankfully, she was sitting alone in her chambers at the moment.

“We’re not as different as you’d like us to be,” He snapped at her, his eyebrows twisting into a frown. The anger over his face radiated so intensely she could almost feel it, like a burning heat over her own body.

Acilia took a step back, but kept a straight face. “I’m nothing like you, Antony” She managed to keep her voice calm, even if she was helpless inside.

“Really? So it wasn’t you who killed Senator Glycia’s son?” He raises an eyebrow. 

Acilia opens her mouth to defend herself, to protest, but... Nothing comes out. She can’t lie to him... Not to Antony.

Antony smirks, obviously pleased with himself. “Legate Aquila?”

This time Acilia frowns. He had it coming. They both had it coming!

“I will not stand here and tolerant your accusations.” Acilia knows Antony knew about her plans of revenge a long time ago, but it doesn’t mean that she shouldn’t deny them. Especially when other people could hear.

She turns on her heels and prepares to leave but Antony grabs her hand and forces her to stop. It’s not enough to cause her any pain but it’s enough to keep her in place.

“What?--” She hurls back at him, but he still keeps her hand in his, despite her upset expression and aggressive tone.

“You think I’m the bad guy here?” He suddenly sounds so much calmer, but somehow... It’s even worse. It way more terrifying that way.

“Take a look at the mirror, Acilia. You’re no better than me.” 

She gasps, finally freeing her hand from his grasp. “This, this is where you’re wrong. Enjoy your time with Xanthe.” Acilia is finally able to tear herself off Antony, and walk away.

Xanthe told Antony Acilia has been plotting with Cassius against him and Caesar, and he started favoring Xanthe over her. He’d visited the scholae once again, briefly bumping into Acilia - right before storming out. Acilia followed after him out to the streets, trying to confront him. Trying to...

Well, she wasn’t sure what was she trying to do anymore.

It’s not like Xanthe was lying. Acilia was plotting with Cassius.

But Antony made it clear he disliked being used...

Or maybe it was even more than that. It sure felt like that.

From the way he seemed to take it personally, to how offended he looked. How... Hurt? Maybe? Furious, on the other hand, definitely.

Antony looked like... He truly thought Acilia had feelings for him. Which is why learning she was using him and plotting with Cassius has stung at him.

Who knew? Maybe she did have feelings for him. She just couldn’t let it interfere with her plans. She couldn’t let it stand in the way of her revenge.

It might’ve been too late. Maybe she already let it stand in the way of her plans.

Sighing deeply, she looked in the mirror in front of her. 

“Take a look at the mirror, Acilia. You’re no better than me.” His words rung like bells in her ears.

Was she really no different from him? Will she truly choose her revenge over anything, anyone?

With uneasiness in her heart, she allowed herself to lean backwards into her bed and drift into a dreamless sleep.

“Acilia, time to wake up! It’s nearly time you went to the games!” She heard Lena’s voice even before the echoing of her footsteps.

She marched into the room, kicking the door open, with a huge smile plastered over her face and a stunning dress in her hands. “Wear this to the games and Antony won’t be able to tear his eyes off you.” Lena proclaimed.

“The games? But I thought Antony invited Xanthe to accompany him to the games,” Acilia twitched her eyebrows into a bewildered expression.

The fact she just woke up didn’t do much help to her confusion, as well.

“You’re not going with Antony to the games.” Lena smiled, tilting her head to the side.

“You’re going with Cassius.” She explained.

“Ahh, I see.” Things finally made sense. Acilia stood up and took the dress from Lena’s hands. “It’s beautiful...” She couldn’t help but admire the stunning gold fabric of the dress, draped over Tyrian purple decorated with eagle feathers. Lena was right - that dress was ought to catch the eyes of any men of Rome.

“Go to the games with Cassius, wearing this, and make sure Antony knows you’re there on another man’s arm. His own jealousy will do the rest.” 

And with that, Acilia accepted.

Equipped with Lena’s finest dress and accessories, and with Cassius accompanying her, Acilia arrived at the games. 

On the way to their seats, she already saw Antony at his place, as the director of the games, with Xante by his side.

Their eyes did cross each other, fixating on the other. Antony’s eyes burned with fury, and he averted his gaze just as quickly as it has landed on Acilia.

She wondered whether Lena’s plan worked, or rather if he was simply still furious from the past events.

The games started, and he didn’t look at her. Not even once more.

She seemed to be invisible, dead to Antony. 

But the longer he ignored her, the clearer it became. Yes - he avoided her - but it was killing him inside.

Antony used everything he had in him to look away from her, and a smile spread across Acilia’s lips.

“Enjoying the games, really?” A concerned look flashed across Cassius’ face.

“What?” Surprise washed over her, as Acilia realized she was still sitting with Cassius, watching a brutal fight in the arena below.

“Oh, god - No.” Acilia shook her head. “Just realized something and I have a good feeling about it.” She explained, sending him an apologetic smile.

“You want to tell me what that is?” Cassius moved in closer, dropping his tone and speaking into Acilia’s ear.

“Maybe later,” She winked at him, although she knew she couldn’t possibly tell him the truth.

But he didn’t need to know it.

As the games came to a finish, everyone were getting out of their seats. Acilia threw one last look into Antony’s direction, catching him just as he was staring.

Frozen in place, an unreadable expression over his face, and just the tiniest furrow in his brows, Antony was studying her, head to toe.

Xante wrapped her hands around his arm, as if trying to pull him with her. Unable to nudge him, she followed his gaze, only to fall over Acilia.

Xante immediately frowned, and seemed to give Antony a piece of his mind. He - on the other hand - looked unbothered.

Acilia decided it was a good time - and flashed him a smile.

Successfully undermining him, Acilia’s plan was going according to plan. An astounded look flashed across his features, and his mouth dropped open - as he wondered why might Acilia smile.

Getting her cue, Acilia turned around and joined Cassius, and they left the arena together, leaving Antony and Xante behind.

This was far from being over.

And she was right. He came to see her, that night. She had just gotten out of the shower, after getting back from the games and bidding Cassius goodnight.

“I want to see her right now-” She heard his demands even before she saw his face.

“I understand, domine, but you’ll have to send for her and wait for your-” She heard Lena explaining firmly as she approached.

“Thank you, Lena, but that won’t be necessary. I have time now.” Keeping her expression balanced now, yet smiling, was easier now she knew her acts worked on Antony.

Lena raised her eyebrow at her, as if asking if she was sure. Acilia gave her one, definite nod and Lena exhaled. “Very well.” She accepted, and left them be - not before sending one last glance at Acilia, as if warning her to be careful.

“This way,” Acilia didn’t wait for Antony to speak first, and led him to the scholae’s gardens. They weren’t as grand or as magnificent as many of her roman patrons had, but they were pretty enough and quiet and most importantly, private.

Antony followed her, not giving much importance to their change of scenery.

“You wanted to see me?” Acilia turned, making a show of the swaying of her hips. As much as Antony was mad at her, it definitely caught his eye.

“You drive me crazy.” He said that. It wasn’t much of a compliment, too. More of a statement of a fact, and his tone was still somewhat collected, even if Acilia knew better than to believe it. “And you’re so stubborn, and-” Now his tone started getting angrier and angrier. 

Ah, there it was.

“Your point?” She narrowed her eyes, cutting him off.

Antony gaped at her. She interrupted him? It wasn’t the first time, admittedly, but usually she had... Better methods... Of doing that.

“You try to prove so hard that you’re better than this. Better than us - THAN ME, but you’re not. And if you could just admit that, hell, Acilia, we could --” He didn’t finish that sentence. Instead, he looked around himself. Anywhere but her.

“We could?” She pressed, even if deep down she knew the answer to that, and that’s an answer she didn’t want to hear. Because she knew the cost it could take from her, and it’s a cost she wasn’t willing to pay.

He looks back, meeting her eyes, and just as fast - his lips are over her own. Fierce, demanding. Trying to claim her as his own. He pushed her against a nearby tree, almost violently. Both of his hands came up to caress her face, pulling him towards her, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t kiss back.

It started almost aggressive, but somehow, towards the end of the kiss, it somehow turned... Soft.

Acilia pressed her forehead against his own. At first, Antony flinched away, but she pulled at the hands placing on her cheeks, and then, almost reluctantly, Antony obliged and moved back in - resting their foreheads together.

They stood in silence. Maybe they both knew it was likely the last time.

And right then, it hit her. Why they were so different, why they could never truly understand each other, let along commit to each other.

“You want to know what’s the difference between the two of us?” Acilia prompted Antony’s unimpressed figure. He immediately stepped back and erased any traces of emotion he might’ve shown just a second earlier.

“Enlighten me, Princess” Somehow, the way the word ‘Princess’ rolled off his tongue now was so different than it used to before. So... mocking, and toxic, she felt a painful shiver run down her bones.

“All those horrible things I’ve done, and believe me, I did. I stand by my actions, I don’t deny them, even if the gods never forgive me, I did them for my people. For my family, for my tribe. But you? Antony? You’ve only ever cared for yourself. And everything you do,” She pauses, pointing a finger sharply against his chest. “You do for yourself.” She pushes against his armor.

She realized, deep down, that if it came down to her - or power... Antony would always choose power.

“And that why we’re different. That’s why we’ll never be able to understand each other. Not completely. Not ever.” She shakes her head, and fights the tears that threaten forming in her eyes. She needs to be strong now. She can’t show him the effect he has on her.

Just a few moments more, she assures herself. Just a few moments more and he’ll be gone - she’s sure.

Her words made sure of it. There was no turning back now.

And she’s right.

Antony nods once, his face unreadable, as usually. He put back on the mask he usually carries, the one she was able to briefly cast off.

“You can keep telling yourself those lies,” He tells her, but she knows it’s just his way to deal with their inevitable parting. “But you’re a murderer, and you’re no better than me. You can fool anyone you want, Acilia, but you can’t fool me,” His words come out as a stream, and even though he’s not cursing at her, it sure feels like it.

Acilia decides to endure it, so she simply shrugs and plasters a weak yet confident smile. “Sure, Antony. Whatever makes you sleep better at night.” She promises him, and for just a moment his facade wavers and she can see how furious he’s with her.

“This is goodbye, Acilia. Just know, the next time you need my help, the next time you come crawling to me, asking for a favor... I won’t help you.” With that, he turns on his heels and starts walking away, out of Acilia’s sight, and out of her heart.

And he was right. This was goodbye. She was going to see him again, obviously, but never like that. This was their breakup, their love story ending sooner than it began.

[haematophiliac-a]

Character Sheet: Jax

Basics

Full name: Jason Alaric Reitze Nickname(s): Jax. Title(s): None. Sex: Male Gender: Male Height: 6′03″. Age: Thirty-three. Zodiac: Sagittarius. Spoken languages: Kantonese. English. German.

Physical characteristics

Hair color: Black with a red streak. Eye color: Blue. Skin tone: Pale. Body type: Toned. Voice: Hal - Being Human (UK). Dominant hand: Right. Posture: Proper, formal. Scars: Too many. Tattoos: None. Birthmarks: None. Most noticeable feature(s): Idk.

Childhood

Place of birth: Saffron City, Kanto. Hometown: Saffron city, Kanto. Birth weight/height: Average. First words: ‘Momma’. Siblings: None. Parents: They exist, yes. Parental involvement: Currently alienated. Average upbringing. Children: More than enough. Mainly one known as Hailey. Prominently: ??????

Adult life

Occupation: Scientist for the Rocket gang. Ex-paramedic. Current residence: Celadon City, Kanto. Close friends: Too afraid to have close friends. Relationship status: Single. Financial status: Wealthy. Criminal record: Manslaughter. Case not brought to light. Vices: Workaholic. Addictions (drugs, sex). 

Sex & romance

Sexual orientation: Grayromantic pansexual. Preferred emotional role: submissive | dominant | switch Preferred sexual role: submissive | dominant | switch | Doesn’t care Libido: Very high. Turn ons: Blood. Knife play. Medical play. Sadism. Violence and force. And lots more. Turn offs: Scat and watersports. Love language: Doesn’t really have a love language though he acts pleasant, formal and caring? Relationship tendencies: N.A. Always been single.

Miscellaneous

Character’s theme song(s): Blutengel - Bloody pleasures Hobbies to pass time: Piano, violin, reading. Mental illnesses: Schizoid personality disorder, Dissociative disorder NOS, Obsessive compulsive disorder, Schizophrenia, Insomnia. Physical illnesses: None. Left or right brained: Left. Fears: Failure, lack of control, insanity, imprisonment. Self-confidence level: Average. Vulnerabilities: His own mind causing mood swings, hallucinations, delusions, voices etc etc.  

tagged by: Stole from @fracturedhues  tagging: Y’ALL OMG DO IT.