#[ also the autumn has reached such a beautiful point ]

[despairforme]

[whatudowhennooneseesyou]

WE NEED A SERIES ABOUT HOW SKZ ARE LIKE WHEN THEY'RE INTERESTED IN SOMEONE

i just read leeknow's version and I'm so interested! please consider making it a series 💖

Ooooooooh- okay okay!!!

This anon ask is what got the most popular views in my vote so welcome to the second post of March!!!

What a beautiful way to start the autumn season :)

Disclaimer: This is for entertainment purposes and should not be taken seriously, this is for funsies.

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐊𝐢𝐝𝐬: 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 '𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲' 𝐘𝐨𝐮?

Bang Chan:

His Libra Moon/Mercury and Scorpio Venus means you have to be friends with him for him to develop a crush on you, he might think you're pretty from the moment he sees you but he has to build a rapport and establish a good 'vibe' before he even thinks about dating you.

Chris would be more giggly and physically affectionate than usual, he'd give you more compliments than he does his other friends...might even be more teasing or playful towards you.

He honestly seems like the type of man that would ask you out over Messenger but I hope he would take the time to confess his feelings to you in person.

'So...we've been friends for a while right? And I think you know that I like you more than a friend...so would you want to be something that's more than friends?'

Lee Know:

Lee Know's Sagittarius Moon/Scorpio Mercury and Venus indicates a slow...SLOW burn type of dynamic where he could be crushing on you for MONTHS and you wouldn't even notice.

The type to scrawl through your social media but would not even utter a single confession to your face until he can't take it anymore and he has to spill.

He would prefer to make the first move so he can think of a hundred different ways of how the scenario could go, he would put effort into showing care for you and then act nonchalant about it.

Lee Know is the type to pay for your coffee every time you're together and then act like it's a gesture he'd do for anyone (which we know he wouldn't).

'You don't know I like you??? I have liked you for months now, I bought you coffee all the time, I thought I was being obvious'

Seo Changbin:

Changbin's Virgo Venus and Leo Moon with Cancer Mercury also indicates he would probably show his attraction to you in an indirect manner because Virgo Venuses love to enjoy showing their attraction to you in the most quietly 'detailed' way.

Is the type to ask you about your workout routine or your favourite places to eat, he's also the type to keep a list in his phone of things you enjoy so he can ask about them later.

'So...you mentioned how you like guys that work out right? Does that mean you would like me when I workout?'

Hwang Hyunjin:

Hyunjin's Pisces Venus/ Virgo Moon (maybe)/Aries Mars indicates a man who's a true romantic and an impulsive one at that.

His fanciness for you would manifest in him being more giggly and physically affectionate with you, maybe casually rubbing your arm or welcoming you with a squishy hug.

Eventually, he'll reach a point where he's so overwhelmed and bursting with feelings...he just HAS to reveal them to you and his confession would make you feel like a Hollywood romantic drama.

'I have to tell you something and so I'm going to say it before I can't...I like you, I REALLY like you and I can't hide it anymore.'

Lee Felix/Han Jisung:

I'm combining these two together because they share both the same Venus and Mars signs with the exception of Han being a Pisces Moon and Felix being an Aries Moon.

They both would be the nervous type and Han might even be more shy with you than he would be with his other friends whilst Felix might be more conversational and maybe even to the point of annoying with how friendly and hyper he might be.

Han would be interested in understanding what your hobbies, values and desires are.

Felix would bring you gifts, offer you suggestions for songs to listen too and try and become invested in the hobbies you're interested in.

( I am watching Law and Order: SVU and I get why people have been invested in Olivia and Elliot for 25 years because they are both fine af!!!)

They would both be nervous and in fact might give you enough hints that they are interested in you to make the first move on them.

Han: 'So...if someone said that I like you...what would you think about that?'

Felix: 'Look...I don't know how else to say this but I...I like you and I don't know what to do about it'.

Kim Seungmin:

Seungmin's Cancer Moon and Virgo Mercury indicates a forthright but gentle way of expressing his feelings for you, sure he's sassy and a bit cheeky but his confession would still be romantic.

But definitely more straightforward than the others, people who have a Virgo Mercury don't like to sugar coat anything.

'Here's your coffee order, did I get it right?...I like you- I really, really like you and I wouldn't mind taking you out- just the two of us...if it's okay with you?'

Yang Jeongin:

Jeongin and him having an Aries Venus WITH a Mercury in Aquarius??? Friends pffft what friends?

Jeongin is too impatient to form a friendship with you and he's probably the type to openly admit his feelings for you in a calm and slightly non-chalant manner- like the true fuckboi he would be.

'You like me noona, I know you do because I want you even more so what are we waiting for? I want you to be mine'

Taglist: @scuzmunkie @creativechaoticloner @hipster-shiz @cherry-0420 @ja3hwa @justaaveragereader @marievllr-abg @umbralhelwolf @starsareseen @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @mrcarrots @wisejudgedragonhairdo @junieshohoho @partywithgyu @whatsk-poppinhomies @hologramhoneymoon @gyuhanniescarat @staytinyinmybpack @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @berryberrytan @sensitiveandhungry @laylasbunbunny @bangchanbabygirlx @i-love-ateez @anyamaris @krishastumblernow @hexheathen @michel-angelhoe @northerngalxy @starillusion13 @escapetheshark @daddysspecialdollyworld @jus2passtime @shroomoth @marykpoppins @leomggg @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell @leenaur

[redbleedingrose]

Autumn Court with Eris Vanserra Mood Board Part 2

+ some headcanons

Okay, so, I think that Eris would be terrified when he meets you. He is absolutely terrified for you, and for himself. He is terrified to lose you. You, this perfect, beautiful, smart, incredibly kind, and sweet person is the first to ever love him fully, without conditions, with your entire soul. Even his own family has expectations of him: his father is a bastard who abuses Eris at every turn, his mother expects safety and protection with Eris (which he will always, undoubtedly, provide to her), his brothers expect for him to act as a role model (and are also trying to murder him any chance they can get to secure the autumn throne for themselves). You are the first person to care about him, as he is. And he cannot help but be afraid that someone, like Beron, would go at any lengths to hurt you so that they can control Eris.

I think initially, he would hide his feelings from you. It would take a really long time, decades even, for him to even admit to himself that he has feelings for you. That the racing of his heart whenever he sees you, that the heat he feels on his freckled cheeks and pointed ears, that the knot he feels in his throat, all mean something. He would almost will himself to try to act indifferent around you despite his feelings. And eventually…

Well eventually, he can’t hold himself back anymore. He feels incredibly selfish for it, but he wants to know you, he wants to know what it feels like to have you smiling at him, he wants to know what it feels like to have that pretty flush on your cheeks be because of him. He wants to know what your uncontrolled laughter sounds like, the laughter that spills from your lips as you watch the village children shakily, but bravely, feed apples to the court horses. He even wants to know what makes your eyebrows furrow in frustration, your lips twitch in annoyance at the male who repeatedly flirts with you despite saying no to him multiple times (don’t worry, Er will get rid of him for you ;)) He wants to know your heart and soul. He wants to know you, inside and out.

He builds you this beautiful home that has a library with floor to ceiling windows that overlooks the Autumn Forests, and multiple little reading nooks that you both snuggle in together and get lost in your favorite stories. Er is constantly going out of his way to make sure that all your favorite book series are pre-ordered for when they come out with updates. He has even gone as far as reaching out to some of your favorite authors, asking for a meet and greet on your behalf so you can ask them all your piping questions. Some of your greatest friendships have arisen through these set ups that Eris has done for you.

The house has a gigantic fireplace that acts as the soul of your home, the magic of Eris’ fire constantly keeping it lit with a fire that keeps you warm to the bone, without ever overheating you.

And lets not forget the chefs kitchen Eris has installed. Now, even if you are not good at cooking, you can bet that Eris is. He paid attention to his lessons from his mother dutifully, and will wake up before you just to make sure you have a warm cup of chai and a variety of food to choose from for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He loves feeding you, often bringing you food in bed, and settling down in front of you so he can feed you himself.

Bastard male always smirks when you’re done eating, pushing you down onto the bed while lifting up your nightie and pulling your panties to the side, “Time for my dessert lovey”

The closet is brimming with clothes that he has had specially designed for you. You are, one day, going to be his High Lady of Autumn Court, and he thinks you should be treated as such. Constantly gifting you with jewelry and dresses that make you feel like a queen in your own right. He always matches with you, of course, you are the best dressed couple in Prythian when your relationship becomes public.

He thinks allowing you to love him is the most selfish thing he has ever done, and he will whisper apologizes to you for it (multiple times throughout your relationship in fact) because he believes that his love for you, your love for him, has put you in an insurmountable amount of risk, and you will kiss him sweetly and murmur thanks against his lips.

You will thank him for being selfish, thank him for letting you love him, thank him for being incredibly brave by choosing to be with you, rather than be apart, and finally, thank him for his endless devotion, boundless love and adoration for you.

Masterlist

[yamayuandadu]

Tamamizu Monogatari, a unique love story

This article, unlike most of my recent longer pieces, was not planned in advance. I learned about the subject very recently, and instantly realized I absolutely have to introduce it to more people, the previously posted schedule be damned. The Tale of Tamamizu (玉水物語, Tamamizu Monogatari) is a story about a fox turning into a human, but a rather unconventional one, filled with an unusual degree of sympathy for the eponymous protagonist and focused on a rather unique relationship. In addition to summarizing it in detail and explaining the possible inspirations behind it, I will also try to explain why the tale found a new life on social media as a, broadly speaking, lgbt narrative, and why I think there is a compelling case to be made for such an interpretation. Unless stated otherwise, all images used through the article are taken from the Kyoto University Rare Materials Digital Archive, on whose website you can view scans of the original Tamamizu Monogatari.

The Tale of Tamamizu, also known as The Contest of Autumn Leaves (Momiji Awase) is an example of otogi-zōshi, illustrated prose narrative. The story was presumably originally composed in the Muromachi period (1335-1573), and it survives in multiple copies dated either to the early Edo period or to the end of the Japanese “middle ages” directly preceding it. The identity of the author (or authors) is unknown. Despite its apparent popularity in the past, it seems no major studies of the tale of Tamamizu have ever been conducted. A streamlined translation (or rather an extensive summary) was published online by Kyoto University Library in 2001 and can be accessed here. In 2018, a full translation, as well as a brief introduction, were prepared for the anthology Monsters, Animals, and Other Worlds. A Collection of Short Medieval Japanese Tales. Still, it doesn't seem either sparked all that much interest in Tamamizu, despite the story’s obvious modern appeal. Since the tale of Tamamizu is not well known, I will start with a detailed summary. I am consistently using female pronouns for Tamamizu after she transforms, as does the older translation. The other English translation switches between female and male pronouns. I will explain in the final paragraph of the article why I made the decision to follow the former. The Tale of Tamamizu The story of Tamamizu does not start with the eponymous character, but rather with a certain mr. Takayanagi from Toba. He is troubled, as while he is already 30, he has no children. He decides the only choice is to pray to gods and buddhas. This actually does work, and his wife becomes pregnant, and after the expected period gives birth to a daughter. She doesn’t get a name at any point in the story. The girl’s birth is followed by a timeskip. As we learn, she was distinguished by twenty five features associated with beauty. This is apparently a reference to the belief that a buddha possessed thirty two specific physical traits; the number might have been altered to twenty five because of a popular group of twenty five bodhisattvas associated with Amida. By the time she reached the age of fifteen or so, she also developed great skill in composing poetry in both Japanese and Chinese. Her parents at some point decided that it would be ideal to send her to serve in the emperor’s court in the future. The girl spends most of the time in awe of the blooming of flowers, the wind and other similar phenomena, as one would expect from a literary character of similar status. She maintains her own flower garden, and spends much of her time there.

On one of the days when she visited it alongside her friend Tsukisae, the daughter of her nurse, she caught the attention of a fox. The fox is, at this point in time, not yet Tamamizu. He wishes he could introduce himself to the girl. He considers the standard method - transforming into a nobleman - but he realizes this would likely sadden the girl’s parents, and would tarnish her reputation. He falls into despair. It does not exactly help that his attempts at visiting the garden again end up poorly - on the way there, he gets pelted with stones and then, after trying again, shot with an arrow. Still, he continued to hope to meet with the girl. An opportunity finally arose through a lucky coincidence. Another family living in the same area had multiple sons, but no daughters, much to the parents chagrin. They loudly lamented that they wished they had at least one girl among the children. The fox overheard that and realized it might be an opportunity. He transformed himself into a teenage girl (curiously, the story specifically puts her at the exact same age as the unnamed second protagonist), and enters their house. She explains that she is an orphan, and while passing by she overheard the family’s woes. She offers to become their daughter. The couple instantly agrees.

The fox spends some time living with her adoptive family, though she gets sad easily and keeps bursting into tears. After some time, they offer that they will find her a husband in due time, but she reacts to that poorly, and eventually suggests she would prefer to become the servant of a noble lady. Her adoptive mother agrees this isn’t a bad idea, and reveals that her younger sister is a lady-in-waiting of the daughter of a local noble, mr. Takayanagi. She suggests the fox could become her attendant too. She is overjoyed at this prospect, and is soon sent to Takayanagi’s mansion to meet with his daughter. The girl receives her new attendant warmly, and gives her a nickname, Tamamizu-no-mae (Tamamizu for short). They get along really well, and Tamamizu gets to partake in her various activities, serves her food and drinks, and even sleeps in the same bed (Tsukisae does too, though). While Tamamizu does remarkably well as a human, some of her fox habits remain. Most notably, she is really afraid of dogs. Her lady sympathizes with her plight, and actually bans dogs from her household. This is a much welcome change from Tamamizu’s point of view, though apparently some other members of the staff start to view her as a coward because of this, and simultaneously resent her closeness with the girl. The bond between Tamamizu and the girl reaches a new level when on a moonlight night they spontaneously compose a poem together. It deals with longing. We are told it was followed up by multiple other poems, which are not quoted in the story. Eventually the girl gets tired and heads to her room. However, Tamamizu remains outside gazing at the moon and eventually starts crying, unsure what fate awaits her. Tsukisae, who was inside all along, actually becomes concerned about Tamamizu, and says she feels sorry for her, correctly identifying the cause of her sorrow as love for an unidentified party. She shares her thoughts with their lady (in the form of a poem, of course). The latter summons Tamamizu inside, and soon all three go to bed together. Tamamizu is still overwhelmed by her feelings and can’t fall asleep, though. Tamamizu continues to serve the girl for the next three years. She also remains in touch with her adoptive mother, who sends her letters and new clothes every now and then. One day, many visitors arrived in the house for a friendly competition. The winner will be the person with the most beautiful collection of autumn leaves. Tamamizu decides she must find some for her mistress to give her an advantage. To accomplish that, at night for the first time in years she turns back into a fox, and leaves to visit her siblings. Not the adoptive ones, though. As it turns out, she has two fox brothers, one younger and one older. She actually hasn’t visited them in so long they assumed she died and held funerary services for her in the meanwhile. They are overjoyed to learn that is not the case, and after learning about her current life agree to help her with finding unique leaves. She tells them to leave them on the veranda of her mistress’ mansion, and reassures them it’s safe for foxes to be there thanks to the earlier decision to not allow dogs on the premises. After the visit Tamamizu returns home in her human form. Tsukisae and her mistress ask her where she has been, and she jokes about meeting with a “dubious fellow” (which, to be fair, is not even a lie, given the typical folkloric portrayal of foxes). This in turn leads to more jokes, revolving around Tamamizu no longer thinking about her mistress. She feels distressed by this suggestion.

Tamamizu’s brothers in the meanwhile succeed in their search for thrilling leaves. One of them found a branch with five-colored leaves decorated with the Lotus Sutra (as you probably know, one of the main religious texts in the Mahayana Buddhist tradition). Tamamizu is overjoyed, and instantly brings them to her mistress. The girl received plenty of leaves from other people in the meanwhile, but all of them pale in comparison. She is so happy about the gift that she requests Tamamizu to also write poems meant to accompany the presentation of the collection. She protests that she is unsuitable, but eventually accepts this honor and gets down to work. The parents of the girl came along to watch her write, and both of them concluded she is exceptionally skilled. She ends up providing five poems, one for each color of leaves gathered. They are subsequently combined by these the girl wrote herself.

Obviously, the main characters’ joint entry wins the competition. This grants the girl such fame that the emperor declares she should come to his court. Since her father is not affluent enough to pay for traveling there, he bestows additional estates upon him to make that possible. Even Tamamizu gets her own estate, Kakuta in Settsu Province. However, she decides it will be for the best to give it to her adoptive parents. Shortly after that, Tamamizu’s adoptive mother falls sick. She leaves her mistress to attend to her, but it did not help much and her condition kept worsening. Therefore, her stay had to be extended over and over again. This predicament worries her mistress, who sends her a letter to let her know that it is boring and gloomy without her around, and implores her to return as soon as her mother’s condition improves. Tsukisae is similarly concerned. Both of them voice their concerns through poems, which at this point should not be surprising for the reader.

Tamamizu of course appreciates these displays of sympathy, but she cannot return, so in response she only reassures both of them that she will meet with them again as soon as possible.  Shortly after that, the mother’s condition worsened yet again. The entire family laments through the entire day, but eventually everyone manages to fall asleep - save for Tamamizu. In the middle of the night Tamamizu notices that an old, hairless fox entered the house. She quickly realizes that he was her paternal uncle (a fox uncle, that is. Not a relative of her adoptive parents). The illness was his doing, as she quickly realizes. Tamamizu requests him to leave her adoptive mother alone. However, the old fox says he cannot do that, as the illness is his act of revenge against her family, since her father killed his child. He concluded it is only right to make his daughter sick so that she dies too.

Tamamizu admits that this makes sense in theory, but she points out that acting upon desire for revenge will only bring bad karma, and bad karma from previous lives is why both of them were born as foxes in the first place. She offers the old fox a crash course in Buddhist ethics, and warns him that accumulating even more bad karma might lead to someone eventually killing him too, and to yet more rebirths in one of the three realms which are best to avoid (animals, hungry spirits, hell).

The old fox notes following buddhas is for humans, not for those born in other realms of rebirth (he’s not entirely wrong, humans are generally held to be in the optimal condition to seek enlightenment; animals must follow instinct and thus end up accumulating bad karma, devas are to preoccupied with celestial bliss), but eventually he relents and agrees that it would be wrong to kill the woman because of the actions of her father. He concludes that it would not even make him feel better, since his child would remain dead. He tells Tamamizu that evidently he was able to meet her because of good karma acquired in a past life, asks her to pray for his deceased child, and leaves, announcing he shall become a monk reciting nenbutsu from now on. Tamamizu did what he asked for, and even performed a funerary service for her late cousin. With the problem solved, her adoptive mother returned to good health. She was therefore free to meet with her mistress again. She was elevated to the rank of chujo no kimi, the foremost among servants. However, despite her mistress’ best efforts to make her feel appreciated, she was suffering from persistent bouts of melancholy. She wished she could confess her love and consummate the relationship, but she concluded that since she kept her identity secret for so long, it would be no longer possible to reveal it without losing the acceptance of the girl. She decides she must disappear. However, before that she prepares a long poem explaining her predicament.

She placed it in a box, and gave it to her mistress, explaining that it should only be opened if something happens to her. She then broke down in tears.

Tamamizu’s mistress does not fully understand what is happening, and asks if she perhaps is worried about their planned relocation to the imperial court. However, Tamamizu denies that and guarantees she will accompany her on the journey there. Her mistress starts crying too, and says she has hoped they will always be together. Shortly after, the day of the journey came. Tamamizu’s mistress and mr. Takayanagi, now recognized as a lord, were certain that she went with them, but as soon as they reached their destination it turned out she was nowhere to be found. Days upon days of grieving followed. Eventually, the girl realized that she had no choice but to open the box. From the poem contained within, she learned everything about Tamamizu, from the day they first met all the way up to the disappearance. It explained how she hoped to protect her mistress through her current life and beyond, but had to give up after realizing it was all in vain. In the final words of the poem, she firmly refers to her with the name she was given by the girl - Tamamizu.

The poem moves her deeply, but the story does not have a happy ending - we never learn what happened to Tamamizu afterwards.

Tamamizu’s forerunners

It is agreed that much like the considerably more famous Tamamo no Mae, Tamamizu in part depends on earlier Chinese literature about foxes. Not exactly on the same sort of stories, though - she is not exactly a malevolent seductress, to put it lightly. The key to finding her forerunners is the scene in the beginning when the still nameless fox considers transforming into a male suitor at first, before settling on the form of a female attendant, and the erudition she displays through the story. An argument can be made that this is conscious engagement with a very specific type of older fox story, largely forgotten today. In Tang China, fox stories enjoyed considerable popularity. You may remember that I mentioned this in passing a few months ago in another fox-themed article. One of the genres popular at the time was focused on fox suitors. There are many stories like that, but they largely follow a similar plot: a male fox falls in love with a human girl, takes the form of a dashing literatus and requests marriage. The girl’s family rejects the proposal, as despite charm and erudition the fox is ultimately an outsider with no family, and doesn’t depend on the well established institution of matchmaking. Afterwards, he typically tries to win the girl over with some sort of trick, and fails in the process, thus meeting his demise when his real identity is inevitably exposed.

In some cases, twists are introduced and the fox is effectively exploited by the family: for example, in the story about a certain mr. Hu (a common surname which is a homonym for the word for fox) and the granddaughter of the official Li Yuangong, the Li family agrees for the girl to be taught by the fox, and even asks him for advice on various matters, just to kill him once he outlived his usefulness.

Zhou Wenju's painting A Literary Garden (文苑图, Wenyuantu), showing a group of discouring Tang literati (wikimedia commons)

Many literati came from humble backgrounds, and only attained high positions thanks to success in the imperial examinations. However, their advances were often frowned upon by nobles, who saw them as upstarts. Therefore, faking a more notable origin was widespread to secure a better position in the high strata of society. All of this is reflected in the stories of the fox suitors. Xiaofei Kang, who wrote my favorite monograph about Chinese fox beliefs, notes that the stories might have effectively been a way to cope with everyday anxieties. In other words, perhaps the fox self insert fails so that the real person sharing his precarious status can succeed.

Another aspect of the Tale of Tamamizu which offers a clue about its origins is the focus on Buddhism, and its role in the lives of non-humans in particular. Tamamizu evidently attains a considerable familiarity with Buddhist doctrine, to the point the old fox basically seems to perceive her as thinking more like a human than a fox. Evidently, she doesn’t think being an animal should prevent one from seeking good karma. This seems to reflect a medieval Buddhist phenomenon. Roughly from the Insei period (1086-1185) up to the eighteenth century, and especially between the twelfth and fourteenth centuries, the dominant esoteric schools of Buddhism propagated the doctrine of hongaku (本覺), “original enlightenment”. This idea originates in an earlier Buddhis text, Awakening of Faith in the Mahāyāna. According to proponents of this idea all living beings, even plants, possessed an innate “Buddha nature”, as did natural features like mountains. They were innately capable of attaining enlightenment, or innately enlightened outright. Religion influences art, so it has been argued that the spread of new stories about animals behaving like people in the Muromachi period had a distinctly Buddhist dimension.

The modern reception of Tamamizu

Despite the fascinating themes of the story of Tamamizu, it only found a greater degree of modern recognition in 2019, outside of academic circles at that. I'm surprised it took so long, since when you think about it, the sensibilities of the author indeed seem surprisingly modern. The narrator even reassures us Tamamizu’s human form is the same age as the object of her affection, anticipating what sorts of shipping discourse could arise 700 years later. Anyway, in 2019 a fragment of the story was the subject of one of the classical Japanese literature questions from the National Center Test for University Admissions, a standardized university entrance exam held across Japan each January from 1990 to 2020. This obviously exposed an enormous number of people to it, not just exam-takers. Following this event, a Tamamizu fad seemingly swept social media and pixiv (curiously, there’s a single piece of art there which predates the phenomenon by six years; op actually updated the description in 2019 to say they are happy more people learned about the story). There’s even a Tamamizu Monogatari tag on Dynasty Scans as a result. It’s worth pointing out the wikipedia entry of the story was written in 2019 as well. Most curiously apparently a research project focused on Tamamizu, Kahoko Iguru’s Border transgression between species and gender as observed in “Tamamizu Monogatari”,  received a grant in the same year too (source; more info here). It doesn’t seem the results have been published yet. I will keep you updated if that changes, obviously. I am actually surprised I didn’t notice the Tamamizu phenomenon back then, even though 2019 Antonia was distinctly more terminally online than 2023 Antonia is. It’s worth noting that Tamamizu’s fame didn’t fade away. The online following the story gained was referenced in an Asahi Shimbun article a year later. A quick survey of social media will show you there are people still talking about Tamamizu today. People who aren’t me, that is. What made Tamamizu so unexpectedly popular - arguably more than the story has been in the past few centuries - in recent years? Most of the linked sources relatively neutrally state that people perceive it as a “unique love story”. Social media posts are often considerably more direct: for many people, the appeal lies in the realization the Tale of Tamamizu is probably the closest to a lesbian love story in the entire corpus of medieval Japanese literature. I won’t deny this is in no small part its appeal for me too. Note this is not an universal sentiment by any means, though. It is difficult to tell if this was the intent of the medieval author(s), of course. It is obviously impossible to deny that women attracted to women existed in medieval Japan, as is the case in every society since the dawn of history. However, they left little, if any, trace in textual sources. As pointed out by Bernard Faure, in Japan in the past as in many other historical societies “sexuality without men is properly unthinkable” and therefore received no coverage. While there is plenty of Japanese Buddhist literature dealing with male homosexuality (trust me though, you do not want to read it; I’ve included a brief explanation why in the bibliography), there is basically nothing when it comes to women. The only possible exception is what some authors argue might be a medieval depiction of a lesbian couple in Tengu Zōshi, a work I plan to discuss in more detail next month, but note that this would be only an example of condemnation, since this work is a religious polemic dealing with vices of the clergy. 

The supposed lesbian couple from Tengu Zōshi; image from Haruko Wakayabashi's The Seven Tengu Scrolls: Evil and the Rhetoric of Legitimacy in Medieval Japanese Buddhism; reproduced here for educational purposes only.

This sort of absence of evidence is a recurring pattern through history - you might recall my own attempts to find out what Bronze Age Mesopotamian sources have to say on this matter. Before the Meiji period, when the term dōseiai (同性愛) was coined as a calque of Charles Gilbert Chaddok’s freshly invented label “homosexual”, there wasn’t even a distinct Japanese term which could be applied to lesbian relationships. Once again, this does not indicate this phenomenon did not exist - but it does indicate that due to extreme levels of sexism in the perception of both sexuality and relationships it was difficult to even imagine for the average author. Faure suggests the prevailing attitude was presumably similar as in continental Buddhism, in which lesbian love “was at best perceived as a poor imitation of heterosexual relations—or a preparation for them—and as such condemned” at least in monastic rules. To put it bluntly, only penetrative sex was regarded as real.

And yet, in spite of this, I do not think it is wrong to wonder if perhaps what seems like subtext to a modern reader is actually intentional. This is obviously a reach, but given that relationships between women - not even romantic ones - were historically not a major concern of most authors, I would argue it is not impossible that a work which revolves virtually entirely around the relationships between female characters was written by a woman. Perhaps a woman romantically interested in other women, even. Even more boldly, I’d ponder if perhaps the ambiguous gender of the fox before transformation was meant to make the romance palatable to general audiences. Note that while foxes transforming is a mainstay of both Japanese and Chinese literature, the change of gender is actually quite uncommon in such stories, making this single reference all the more unusual. Granted, gender change is hardly a major focus in the story of Tamamizu. The only real indication the fox is male is the decision to take a male human form at first, but beyond that, things get muddy to the point the matter of gender in the story evidently warranted an actual study, as I pointed out earlier. As you’ve noticed, this matter was approached in different ways by translators too. I personally think the most important factor is the fact Tamamizu refers to herself with this name in the final poem. This name is intimately tied to the distinctly female identity she took. Whoever she was in the beginning, by the end of the story she is clearly Tamamizu. If one felt particularly bold a case perhaps even be made that Tamamizu can be read as a trans woman based on this, perhaps. I think simply disregarding the brief reference to a male form is valid too, though. Even if these arguments were to be refuted fully, I would argue that there is a further reason why at the very least reinterpreting the story as dealing with a gay relationship is not against the spirit of the original work. As I outlined, the tale of Tamamizu seems to draw inspiration from a very specific genre of fox stories, in which foxes are essentially a metaphor for people seeking relationships which were frowned upon. Obviously, the fact that Tamamizu is not a human by default makes any relationship she would be involved in somewhat unusual and frowned upon, but that does not assign a different metaphorical meaning to her struggle. Is Tamamizu even really fully a fox and not a human at all by the time she writes the confession of her love, though? The old fox seems to basically dispute if she still thinks like an animal. We also know that she maintained her human form for so long her biological relatives assumed she had passed away. She also found acceptance of virtually every single human character in the story - save for herself, that is. It’s also not like it’s hard to reinterpret her struggle specifically with the inability to consummate the relationship through the lens of the medieval Buddhist views of female sexuality, rather than through the lens of the general view that relationships between human and transformed foxes were doomed to failure. To paraphrase Cynthia Eller’s evergreen quote about futile search for nonexistent matriarchal prehistory in ancient texts, I do not think an invented wlw past can give anyone a future, but at the same time I do not think it means we should conclude that nobody ever had similar experiences in the past, or that we can relate with works even in ways their authors did not intend. For this reason, I would ultimately argue in favor of embracing the Tale of Tamamizu as a narrative which can be read as a lesbian love story.

Bibliography

Bernard Faure, The Red Thread. Buddhist Approaches to Sexuality (please note: read this book very cautiously since multiple content warnings apply. Faure is a remarkably progressive author, so it’s not about his personal attitude or anything. The problem is that it is not possible to deny much of the Japanese Buddhist discourse about homosexuality had little to do with modern notion of gay relationships, and essentially amounts to explaining when exploitation of children is a pious act)

Rania Huntington, Alien Kind. Foxes and Late Imperial Chinese Narrative (some sort of explicit content warning applies here too, though mostly because some of the discussed works are trashy Qing period erotica. More funny than anything.)

Xiaofei Kang, The Cult of the Fox: Power, Gender, and Popular Religion in Late Imperial and Modern China

Keller Kimbrough and Haruo Shirane (eds.), Monsters, Animals, and Other Worlds. A Collection of Short Medieval Japanese Tales

Jacqueline Stone, Medieval Tendai hongaku thought and the new Kamakura Buddhism: A reconsideration

[byhimawari]

“to me, you are the morning.”

(a RivaMika drabble)

Art by @onigiri-dorkk 🍙🤍

“Oi, brat. Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

Mikasa’s hand pauses just before she can pour the sugar into her tea, and the sight nearly makes him twitch in discomfort. She follows his gaze, seeing that he’s staring at her hand, and then looks back at him with an incredulous expression.

“What are you? The tea police?” Mikasa teases as she watches him take his seat across from her.

“If I was, I’d have you arrested by now, brat,” Levi says dully, but Mikasa doesn’t miss the hint of humor in his tone, “You’re ruining the natural flavor of the tea leaves.”

She dunks the spoonful of sugar into her tea cup and looks at him with a kittenish look in her eyes, never passing up the opportunity to spite him.

“It’s a matter of preference, Levi,” she sips, enjoying the slight grimace in his features, “Just like how you preferred to fall in love with me when you could’ve chosen someone much less – ” she gives him a little smile that further validates her point, “ – bratty.”

Levi rolls his eyes with an amused smirk, a small scoff escaping, “Touche.”

With an amused beam herself, Mikasa pours tea into his cup and slides it over to him, “Good morning, by the way.”

He chuckles in defeat, his quiet smile forming softly upon his lips as he lifts his teacup, “Good morning, Mikasa.”

They sip their tea in comfortable silence, their ritual of peace that unintentionally became reserved for one another every morning. Mikasa observes his poise, elegant as it's always been even in his most simplest states, as he sets his cup down and lets out a small breath of contentment. She also notices he’s wearing the light blue dress shirt she had bought him, the very one that he had nagged about her wasting her money on. Her heart warms at the sight, warming up even more with the tea that reaches her soul in more ways than one, a delicious reminder of what she has with him, with each other.

The sounds of birds passing by suddenly fill the air and Levi turns his head to gaze out the window beside them. Outside was a flock of birds soaring through the air, weightless and free, almost symbolic in the way they fly in unison, yet still go in their own direction. She smiles, her spirits lifted, like that of a mother’s reassurance saying she’s done well. The world knows how much she’s needed just that.

“The mornings have been quite beautiful these days, haven’t they?” Mikasa tells him softly as she stares out the window in admiration with him, seeing the life she once believed she would never live long enough to witness – a life of color, clear as day.

She watches the warm hued leaves float gracefully down from the luscious autumn trees, complemented with the soft rays of golden sunlight streaming through the window pane that cast a gentle glow across the room, and when she sees the birds fly off into the clouds of the morning skies, she thinks to herself: Ah. So this is a peaceful life.

“Mikasa,” his voice draws her back in like an embrace.

“Hm?” her eyes embrace him back.

And it’s when that very bodiless embrace pulls away that Mikasa stands corrected on what a peaceful life looks like.

“Marry me.”

The wind chimes play a melody and it’s her heart that sings to its beat.

“W-what?”

Levi reaches for her hand across the table – his touch gentle and kind as she’s always known it to be – while his other reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, wooden box, resurfacing a feeling of belonging she thought was long gone and far beyond her reach.

Yet, here is this man, strong and true and real, handing it right over to her.

“Marry me, Mikasa,” Levi says again, this time with more conviction, more heart, “Grant me the privilege of loving you, as I always have, all these years. Because I know no greater honor than to be yours…officially.”

Levi gently wipes a tear from her cheek that she didn’t even realize had escaped, framing her cheek with his palm as he concludes his promise, “And let’s keep staying here. Just you and me, in this cabin, sipping tea every morning with as much damn sugar as you want.”

How can she ever say no?

“Yes,” Mikasa says in a breath, her heart welled up in utter euphoria as her smile touches her ears, “Yes, Levi. I will marry you.”

Levi smiles back in response, another reserved smile made just for her. He frames her face with his palms, leaning across the table to kiss her tenderly, gratefully. Her tears reach in between their lips, and for the first time in a long time, they no longer taste bitter.

Mikasa sniffles and lets out a soft, exasperated laugh, wiping her tears away with her free hand while Levi slides the ring on her finger. “Isn’t a man supposed to ask for a woman’s hand in marriage, not demand it? You’re not my captain anymore, you know.”

He only smirks, bringing her hand to his lips and planting a trail of light kisses across her knuckles, “Because you don’t have a choice.”

She gives him a playful smile. “Funny to always assume you’ll get your way.”

“Well…” Levi eyes the ring on her finger before looking back at her, his eyes both pooled with humor and love as he stands and walks to her side, pulling her up into an embrace, “Didn’t I?”

Her usual urge to correct him ceases to exist. With a fulfilled heart, Mikasa wraps her arms around him as well, her gaze peering out the window behind him, watching as the morning sun blankets the world in the same way he blankets hers.

“Yes. Yes you did.”

—

THANK YOU AGAIN @onigiri-dorkk FOR DRAWING SUCH A BEAUTIFUL AND AMAZING PIECE THAT INSPIRED ME TO WRITE AGAIN! You’re seriously the greatest to ever do it! I love you so much and I’m so honored I got to collab with you 🍙🤍 Please keep doing what you do, because you’re AMAZING AT IT PERIODT.

[rate-every-bat]

If you haven't done it already, you should rate the Hoary Bat 💞 They're my favourite and I would love to see your opinion on them

Absolutely, let's do it!

Today's Bat: Hoary Bat

The Hoary Bat has always put me in mind of a little powdered donut. There's an abandoned mining cave that's been turned into a museum and nature preserve in my area, and bat spotters frequently find these frosted babies hanging out there during the summer. I'd really love to spot one in person, but for now, I'll settle for this precious picture:

Environmental Impact: The Hoary Bat has an incredibly wide habitat range across North and Central America, even reaching as far as Hawaii. With such a wide range, it's no surprise that they've split into several subspecies (which is so, so cool). They migrate from north to south in the autumn, or hibernate for short bursts using a "butt blanket" and torpor state to withstand cooler temperatures. Interestingly, they predate several pest species, but have a relatively restricted diet compared to other North American insectivorous bats. These guys also catch rabies fairly frequently, which is another hit to their score here.

🦇🦇🦇/5

Beauty: Oh, these guys are angels. Their wide faces and perfectly round eyes make them look like Precious Moments dolls with wings. Their coats, multi-colored with a delicate white frost, are the peak of winter fashion. I can't think of a single thing that would make these guys more appealing... top marks!

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇/5

Power: Hoary Bats are largely solitary throughout the year. Upon mating in the autumn, the female retains sperm in her reproductive tract. She'll reserve it all winter, and come spring, she will fertilize her eggs and give birth by early summer. Delayed fertilization allows them to choose whether or not conditions are right to rear young, and controls for their generally lonesome nature. I first learned about this ability with bears, and I continue to find it fascinating. I will have to deduct points from the Power score, however, for their decidedly anti-clean-power stance: their leading cause of mortality is striking wind turbines.

🦇🦇🦇/5

Overall: This upcoming summer, hit your local mine. Maybe you'll find a Hoary Bat... or me, with a camera.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇/5

(Today's sources: Animal Diversity Web, Bat Conservation International)

(PS: I couldn't find a convenient spot to mention this, but the Hawaiian Hoary bat is actually endangered. They're the only remaining native land mammal in Hawaii according to the National Parks Service. BCI lists some conservational efforts, which I'd recommend reading up on and advocating for if you're able. Thank you!)

[c-m-stuff]

Trick Or Treat

Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

-Description: You and Spencer are married. You two have a beautiful son, who you are trick or treating with.

-Warnings: Fluffiness, having a child

-Word count: 825

-Note: (Repost from Wattpad) Hey guys, I'm finally back. A lot has happened at the time I was gone, and I couldn't find the motivation to write. But, I'm happily back. This story is in honor of the most spooky season. Enjoy this Halloween story!

Masterlist

Y/N POV:

It was spooky season. The season with beautiful, orange leaves, falling from the trees, the season when pumpkins are indispensable and horror movies are more popular than ever. Yes, it was autumn. It also happened to be my husband's favorite season and holiday.

We all got our Halloween costumes. Spencer went as Doctor Who, while (Y/S/N) was going as Spiderman. This year, I went for a simple, but stunning, black cat. My whole outfit was black, as the fabric was hugging my figure. I got cat ears and wore black

make-up with high heels.

I was just finishing my hair, as I felt a person staring at me. Turning around, I saw the genius watching in awe.

'You look stunning.' a smile appeared on my face, while he was walking closer.

His lips were quick in finding mine, moving sincerely as two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly. His hands found their home on my waist, gently brushing over the fabric. Before things got too headed, I pulled away.

'As much as I love this, we need to go trick or treating.' I reminded him, as his brain finally caught up with my words.

'Alright, but we're going to finish this later.' he teased, and I pressed a quick kiss on his lips.

'If you say so.' smirking, I turned around, making my way towards our son's room. Spencer following behind me.

Carefully, I pushed the door further open, seeing (Y/S/N) playing with his Lego. He looked up once he noticed our presence, as a smile was painted on his little face.

'Are you ready for trick or treating?' I asked, excitedly, as he got up and ran towards us.

'Yesss!'

'Alright, let's go.'

__________________________

Only moments later, we arrived at the first house. The front yard was decorated amazing with all kind of Halloween stuff. We saw (Y/S/N) struggling to reach the bell, his little body too small. Spencer happily lifted him up, so he was now able to ring the doorbell.

'Ready?' my husband asked our son, while placing him gently back on the ground. He nodded, and waited patiently for the door to open.

'Trick or treat!' we all exclaimed, making our neighbor laugh.

'That is definitely a scary costume, (Y/S/N). I think, I better give candy real quick.' she played along, making Spencer and I both smile at the excitement of our son.

She placed a few candies into the little Halloween bucket, (Y/S/N) was holding. He jumped, enthusiastic, a spark in his eyes. It was the most sweetest thing ever.

We thanked our neighbor, before walking further. This went on for a while. Going from door to door, everytime receiving candy. Eventually, the sun began to disappear behind the clouds, slowly getting more darker. All the excitement and activities took a toll on (Y/S/N). He was walking more slowly, tiredness visibly on his face.

I picked him up, as he let his head rest on my shoulder. I gave a kiss on it, watching him in awe. Spencer was doing the same thing, his eyes fixated on our beautiful son. We locked eyes for a moment, telling in our own way to get back home.

__________________________

Satisfied, we unlocked the front door, happily by the turn of the evening. I placed our already asleep son in his bed, giving him a goodnight kiss, while tugging him in. I let a tiny lamp shine, as I quietly made my way back towards the living room.

'I think, he has enough candy for a whole year.' Spencer joked, pointing at the full bucket.

'Yeah, it was definitely a great evening. The joy on his face, I'll never forget it.'

'It really was amazing to witness.'

I walked closer to him, pressing my chest against his. He wrapped his arms protectively around my waist, placing a kiss on my head.

'I love you.' he whispered, while he pressed me even further into the embrace.

'I love you, handsome.'

After a few more moments of comfortable silence, he slightly pulled away. A spark appeared in his eyes, as he got visibly excited.

'What do you think of a Halloween movie night, with lots of cuddles and food?'

'I would love to.' I told him, mirroring his smile.

Soon enough, we were lying on the couch, our bodies as close as possible, cuddling and eating, all that while watching one of Spencer's favorite Halloween movies.

Yes, this was the perfect Halloween.

_________________________

[x-bluefire-heart-x]

Not What Was Expected

Next chapter for this little cute story. I know Rafael might seem a little out of character for this but I would argue that we haven't seen how he would treat someone he was interested in who also showed that interested back so....

Warnings: None. Just once again my attempt at flirtation. Hints towards something spicer.

Masterlist

Prompt List

One , Two , Four , Five , Six

You were standing at the meeting point in the park waiting for Rafael, one of your light scarves wrapped around your neck to help keep you warm. The weather still hadn’t completely turned but the sun was hidden behind some clouds, and a small breeze was rustling through the trees, bringing with it the promised chill that makes itself known during the night. You had chosen comfort for the day but you had still strived to style your choices. You picked a pair of leggings that hugged your legs rather nicely, and you had paired it with a simple shirt that was slightly oversized with the front tucked in and the back hanging loosely. Over the top you wore a light coat that cinched a little around your waist before flaring slightly. Topped off with a pair of black joggers and your scarf you thought you looked rather cute. You had braided your hair to stop it from blowing in the breeze not wanting it to impede your view of Rafael.

You glanced down at your phone checking the time, it was 12:10, Rafael had messaged letting you know that he was going to be a little late. It was a quick message, and none had come since but you weren’t concerned, knowing the work he did and that even though it was the weekend Rafael would still be busy. You rocked back and forth a little on your heels as you admired the gorgeous view of the trees and the colour their leaves were changing to. It was stunning.

“I am so sorry,” a voice huffed behind you. You turned to see Rafael, his cheeks flushed red as he took deep breaths.

“Rafael,” you smiled. “It’s fine, you aren’t that late and besides you let me know that it was a possibility. Though I must say I am rather…pleased that you were willing to run here.”

Rafael took one last breath as it started to normalise, a chuckle interrupting it at the coy way you spoke. He ran his eyes over your form, taking in your slightly red nose and the few strands of hair that were falling out of your braid. He had hoped that he hadn’t underdressed with his workout gear on with a scarf, although it was going to only be a walk he wanted to be comfortable for it and he was glad to see that you had done the same. Of course he thought you pulled it off better than he did but he maybe becoming a little biased when it came to you. He still found your red nose adorable.

“Well, you are definitely worth running to, Miss Librarian,” he grinned, enjoying the way your cheeks flushed red. He had noticed last night that you did so rather easily, along with how your eyes would skirt away from his when you got shy. “And you look lovely today.”

“Thank you,” you said softly reaching up to brush away a stray strand from your face. “Um, this is my favourite walk in the park.”

“I can see why, it is rather beautiful,” Rafael nodded at the trees as the two of you set off down the path. You both walked close together, shoulders brushing every now and then.

“One of the reasons I love this weather. Spring has beautiful colours of course but there is something about the colours in autumn,” you agreed. “Plus I enjoy being cozy, and that is difficult to do in summer with the heat.”

“Cozy?” Rafael asked.

“Yes, you know bundled up with a blanket, a good book and a cup of tea or a glass of wine, while it’s raining outside,” you nodded. “Wearing thick scarves and coats, drinking hot chocolate after a relaxing walk. Cozy.”

“That does sound rather nice I’ll admit,” Rafael agreed as his hand brushed yours again. He was tempted to take hold of it but didn’t know if you would accept that just yet.

“Hm,” you hummed a little glancing down at his hand that was very close to yours, the backs brushing when your shoulders did. You worried your bottom lip as you looked up at his profile. His strong nose and jawline catching your attention, he was breath taking. You reached your hand out a little, letting your fingers brush against his to test the waters before taking hold of his hand. “Is this okay?”

“One little change I think,” Rafael whispered as he changed the grip you had made intertwining your fingers. “Much better.”

A slight breeze carried a few leaves to float down around the two of you as you walked across the little bridge. It had been silent for a few moments but like at the restaurant not an awkward one. It was comfortable, as you lightly swung your joint hands between you. Rafael found the action adorable his eyes taking the chance to trace over your face as you watched the leaves flutter down onto the water.

“Were you in the office this morning?” you asked curious.

“Yes unfortunately,” Rafael grumbled. “Apparently the detectives got busy last night, I had yet more warrants to get for them as well as trial prep for a previous case.”

“Very busy morning for you,” you said. “I do hope that this doesn’t put you behind on anything.” You didn’t want to cause Rafael any stress in regards to how much work he had to do.

“Not at all, in fact it is a welcome reason to leave my office,” Rafael waved away your concern. “Besides, Liv has been rather good at keeping things off my desk unless necessary.”

“Oh?” you were a little confused. “How so?”

“Normally, my night would have been interrupted by what the detectives did last night but Liv knew I was at dinner with you and made sure we weren’t disturbed,” Rafael smiled.

“That was rather kind of her,” you said. “Please tell her thanks from me? I’m rather grateful that our night wasn’t interrupted.”

“I will pass that on,” Rafael nodded. “Of course she will be smug about it all.”

“You know from what you have told me about Liv, I already like her,” you grinned.

“Yes, I am rather dreading when the two of you meet,” Rafael sighed. “She teases me relentlessly and you have already shown you seem inclined to do that as well.”

“Mr Lawyer, when I meet her?” you asked, Rafael realised how he phrased that comment. He debated correcting himself but he had never been one to do so, especially when he meant something.

“Yes when,” he said again. “If of course you want to, eventually.”

“Well, I would love that,” you said. “I’ve already said I like her, and besides I can’t wait to hear what stories she has about you.”

“I am already regretting this,” Rafael groaned hanging his head as you laughed at his response.

“Too late to take it back now, I’m afraid,” you tapped him on the arm. He grabbed hold of those fingers in a teasing grip, the two of you had stopped walking standing to the edge of the path, hands still intwined. He lifted the fingers he had grabbed teasingly up to his mouth and pressing his lips to them softly, your mouth parted in a small ‘o’ shape, cheeks turning a red to match your nose.

“I must admit to once again being wrong,” Rafael stated, eyes roving over your face. “This weather is rather good for a nice walk through the park.”

“Oh? What made you change your mind?” you asked, a little confused by the change in topic but your mind was still reeling from the kiss he placed on the tips of your fingers. “You said you preferred the summer?”

“Oh I still do,” Rafael nodded. “But how can I completely disagree when you look ravishing in this weather, it truly suits you.”

“You…I…” you stuttered unable to process a response. You had not been expecting that.

Rafael watched with a slightly guarded look, he was hoping that that hadn’t been too much. Rafael was not the kind of man who half hearted things, he always put his all into his cases and his personal life got the same treatment. He wanted to start things off right, he wanted to be honest especially in regards to how he felt and thought about you. He had always been that way, it sometimes worked for the best but other times it had backfired. If it was going to do that with you, he wanted it to backfire before he got too deep, before the budding feeling of attraction grew, which it was slowly doing every minute.

“I hope that wasn’t too much,” he whispered voice a little vulnerable. “I-”

“No it wasn’t!” you interrupted almost shouting. “I mean, I didn’t expect it. But it wasn’t too much, I’ve always rather liked the idea of someone who doesn’t shy away from expressing themselves and their thoughts.”

“Good, good,” Rafael smiled, he started to walk again lightly tugging on your joint hands. “Shall we continue?”

“Yes,” you nodded, your face still incredibly red as you walked beside him.

You caught him glancing at you a few times, his jaw a little tense as if he was clenching it. You squeezed his hand, offering him a sweet little smile hoping to put him at ease. At first you hadn’t been sure how to react to what he had said, people had commented on how pretty you are or beautiful but never had they said you looked ravishing, especially dressed in work out gear with your nose very red from the cold. But once what he said had actually sunk in, well, you became incredibly shy. It wasn’t a common occurrence but this man, this bloody man seemed to bring it out a lot. With his smiles and serious eyes when he says things, that coming from others would be said teasingly or even mockingly but him, him they were said with such a serious tone and the look in his eyes when he said them, you couldn’t take them any other way. And that intensity made you shy.

“How was your morning?” Rafael asked, hoping to bring you back out of the shell you seemed to disappear into. He thought it was endearing, how you could become shy from things he would say or do.

“It was good, didn’t do much honestly,” you started. “I finished the latest book I was on and picked the next one out of my jar.”

“Your jar?” Rafael asked, curiosity peaked.

“Oh yes, I have a lot of books, both physical and on kindle as I love buying books as much as I love reading them,” you explained. “And so it’s sometimes a little tricky to pick which book to read next so, I have two jars, one full the names of the unread physical books I own and one for my kindle, since I read that at work or if I decide to commute instead of drive.”

“That is a genius idea,” Rafael said. “What book did you just finish? Was it a physical one or one on your kindle?”

“It was a physical one, it was the last book in a series, the Ember Quartet by Sabaa Tahir, a rather good one actually,” you said, voice getting excited. “There was a few things I didn’t see coming and I was very happy with the ending.  It was rather poetic in a way I suppose. It has a roman inspired world, with a fascinating magic system and some really good character development!”

You gestured with your hands as you talked, the one still linked with Rafael’s hand bringing his with it. Rafael continued watching as you gushed about the book series, managing to talk about it without giving away any spoilers but still painting the world quite vividly. That light that he saw in your eyes last night when you discussed the importance of reading was back, and he never wanted it to leave. He loved listening to people talk about things they loved, they would always get so animated and he was a little chuffed that you hadn’t let go of his hand. He was content to have his hand moved about in yours as you gestured.

“And it is best not to get attached to any of the characters,” you finished, looking over at Rafael. The look on his face was similar to the one he had last night when you had stopped yourself from rambling. It was soft. Gentle. And almost adoring. He had a small smile on his face.

“That series does sound very good,” Rafael smiled. “I’m a little curious now, do you know if there is an audible version of it?”

“Oh, um, I’m not sure but I can definitely find out for you,” you grinned.

“Thank you,” Rafael’s smile changed to a cheeky one. “Though I wouldn’t say no to you reading it too me.”

“Oh, you don’t want that,” you laughed. “I’d stop all the time to gush about something or another.”

“Commentary as well? Even better!” Rafael cheered, bringing your joint hands up to his lips to place a kiss on the back of it without a second thought. You were thinking that you would need to get use to the easy affection.

“I suppose I could be convinced then,” you teased. “With some…how do you fancy lawyers say it? Conditions and consideration? Is it?”

“Consideration?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

“Yes, I do believe that is something that comes up in contracts isn’t it?” you replied, for a moment unsure that you had remembered correctly. “I do something, for something in return? Like I buy something for money? Or am I wrong?”

“No, not all,” Rafael smiled. “So, tell me, what conditions?”

“I pay for the drinks we’ll be getting in a moment,” you nodded towards the little coffee stand as the two of you came to stop just before it. “And, if you truly want me to read them to you…you’ll come to my apartment for it?”

“I can agree with those two conditions but so far I am only seeing benefits for me,” Rafael nodded.

“Oh don’t worry I was getting there,” you grinned. “You said that your mum made sure you could cook. Before I read, you cook me dinner?”

“Each time?” Rafael asked for confirmation.

“Of course, each time,” you agreed.

“A standing date then,” Rafael finalised. “Shall we try and do it every week?”

“Agreed, Mr Barba,” you hesitated for a split second before deciding it was your time to try and fluster Rafael. You leaned close, shifting your gaze from his right eye, to his left and back again before you lightly pressed your lips to his cheek. As you leaned back you noticed a slight red tinge to his cheeks. Inside you did a little dance happy that for once it appeared he didn’t know what to say. “What’s this Mr Lawyer? Have I finally made you lost for words?”

You unlinked you hand from his to put your arms around his shoulders, moving even closer to him, almost touching him entirely. You bit your lip, a little nervous that you had maybe stepped over a line until his hands found their home on your hips and you saw his eyes darken a little as they flicked down your lips before back up to yours.

“Only momentarily, chica,” Rafael hummed. “Would it be alright if I kissed you? I have been thinking about it since we met.”

“Well, this is the second date,” you jokingly pondered. “And you have been the utmost gentleman…minus some teasing here and there…yes, I do believe you may kiss me.”

“Cheeky,” Rafael tsked.

He tugged you fully against him grinning at your soft exhale at the movement. Your arms linked behind his head as he lowered his lips to yours. You weren’t one to really believe in that sparks with the first kiss trope that your read in your romance books, though you liked to think it was possible. And feeling Rafael gently press his lips against yours again and again before increasing the pressure moving them against yours, you almost believed it. The two of you broke apart, keeping in mind that you were in a public place, Rafael lightly kissed your nose before taking a step back but not letting you go.

“I’ll take all the cheek for kisses like that,” he smirked, watching as you nibbled on your lip, swiping your tongue over your lips. “Keep doing that and I’ll be tempted to kiss you again.”

“An error to tell me that,” you laughed. “I’ll know how to get more kisses from you in the future.”

“Maybe that was my plan all along,” Rafael pointed out.

“Whatever you say,” you laughed removing your arms from around his neck and taking his hand again. “Shall we get a warm drink?” you tugged him towards the stand.

“Hmm, I’d rather more kisses but I will take the drink,” Rafael grumbled letting you pull him along grinning when you turned around to wink at him.

“Trust me to order again?” you asked just before you got to the front.

“I believe so,” Rafael nodded, he privately thought that he may start to trust you with anything.

“Could I get two large hot chocolates please, with some mint?” you asked the vendor.

“Right away, love,” he smiled. “Glad I didn’t start making it with hazelnut this time.”

“Well, it’s not often you have mint,” you cheeked, handing over some money for the drinks. Rafael waited bedside you, enjoying learning something about you, you turned to him with a smile. “Trust me, you’re going to love this.”

“Hm, I think so,” Rafael answered so softly. You sent him a quizzical look, not quite understanding why he responded in such a way but before you could ask the vendor was handing over your two drinks. You both got out of the way of the people behind you, you took a sip enjoying the minty chocolate warming you up. You watched Rafael take a sip, bouncing a little waiting for his response.

“You definitely weren’t lying chica,” Rafael licked his lips savouring the taste. “I take it you are regular here?”

“Oh yes, whenever I go for my walks I tend to come here for a hot drink before I continue on,” you said. “There are some chairs just over there, if the weather is nice I will stay for a little while and read.”

“I hope you don’t mind if we continue walking while we drink?” Rafael asked.

“Not a bit,” you smiled holding out your hand wiggling your fingers. “But only if we hold hands.”

“Twist my arm,” Rafael muttered lacing his fingers with yours again as the two of you continued your walk. You grinned leading the way to the loop that led back to where you had started. The rest of the walk flew by in easy conversation just like the night before. The both of you wanted to drag the date on but Rafael admitted that he should get back to work, at least for a little while longer and you knew that you had to get some more things done before you started work tomorrow.

“So,” you started. “This was…fantastic.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Rafael said his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. “Full disclosure, I may be a bit busy in the next coming week the current case seems to be picking up and I start a trial in three days. But I would like to see you, even briefly when we can arrange it.”

“I would as well,” you nodded leaning a little into his hand, moving just enough to place a kiss on his palm. “I’m more than happy to work around your schedule, as mine is pretty standard not often that I am needed outside my shifts. Plus my lunch hour can be whenever, for the most part.”

“Perhaps we could meet for coffee and/or lunch in a few days?” Rafael asked, taking a step closer.

“Sounds good,” you agreed eyes shifting between his and his lips, wanting to try out the triangle trick. You grinned a little at the response it seemed to elicit from the man as he leaned down to hover over your lips.

“Teasing woman,” he growled lowly just before he pressed his lips to yours again this time he pulled away quicker but not before gently biting at your lower lip. You struggled to hold in the whine at that, following after him a little. “Good thing I rather like that.”

“Good…” you whispered, voice a little breathy before you tried to focus. “Lunch? A few days?” Rafael smirked gently at your short questions, he had heard the start of the whine before you stopped it when he pulled away from your lips and it created a need, a want to hear what noises you would make for him. He forced that heat down, he wanted to go slow with you to build up the desire and tension between the two of you.

“We’ll aim for two days from now. I’ll message you a time and place, once I know for certain,” Rafael answered voice equally soft.

“I can’t wait,” you grinned. “But don’t worry if work gets busy…I could always drop by with some take out. If you want of course.”

“You’d be willing to do that if I have to cancel?” Rafael asked. The few times he had dated in the past none of them had offered to alter the plans to fit into the hectic work hours of his job. And the times he had suggested it some of them did it, though they weren’t necessarily with how many times they had to do it. The rest would refuse, claiming it wasn’t a true date.

“Of course, I enjoy spending time with you and I would like to whenever and however possible,” you nodded, darting in to kiss his cheek again. “So long as it doesn’t interfere with your work.”

“If I can’t make the lunch date I would love for you to drop by the office,” Rafael took your hand to place a kiss on your knuckles. “Message me when you get home?”

“Hmm, sure,” you said face soft and open as you squeezed his hand before letting it go. “I’ll see you in two days, Rafael.”

Rafael was still smiling after you parted ways, the two of you both looked back once or twice until you were out of sight. He was already excited for lunch, and a little part of him wanted it to be at his office so you could see him in his element. If he worked in a different area he would eventually invite you to watch him in court but there was no way he would ever want you to watch one of his trials. He wouldn’t lie about the fact that he is a proud man, and definitely a little arrogant in his regards to his work and the thought of being able to show that off to you, well, it pleased some buried part of himself. He was busy planning what suit he would wear that day wanting to impress you with it. He returned to the office, hoping that if he got a lot done today nothing would interfere with the lunch plans.

The two of you both thought that the next two days couldn’t go quick enough.

[freyjas-musings]

Thank you so much for the response abt the bonus chapter💙

To clarify ⚠️HOFAS AZ/NESTA/BRYCE BONUS SPOILERS AHEAD⚠️

apparently since Azriel said he doesn’t have a mate in the bonus chapter Gwynriel is “debunked.” I feel like SJM included that just to show that Az doesn’t know yet, but it’s so interesting how different biases cause people to interpret the books differently.

I just wish people wouldn’t comment spoilers like that on posts not tagged as spoilers for the sake of argument

⚠️ HOFAS SPOILERS⚠️

Why would Az need a book if he has already found out who his mate is, is already in a relationship with her and has found growth and healing 🤔 ?????

I would throw the world's biggest tantrum if I see his story happen off page 😅😅... So no thank you I will wait for his book.

The ACOTAR spin off's are based on individual couples getting together with an overarching plot . The Romance is central to the spin off books so it's never going to happen off page.

Just before someone says it's not true that SJM said that 😅😅😅

So, the obvious logic would be that an Azriel book would be about his journey, growth and healing with a Gwynriel romance and also have a connecting plot with plot lines ,if I were to guess it would illyrian and autumn and some connected to Nesta.

If anything the Az , Nesta and Bryces bonus establishes the following things:

1. The shadows aren't evil , they haven't disappeared. They are very much his companions as they always were and as they always will be ( SJMs words from Azriels bonus ACOSF) . They are wilder similar to that of Cormac from CC , they truly are Azriels companions.

2. They don't react to all music, as evidenced by the lack of a reaction when Bryce plays music on her phone. They only react to Azriel's voice, and dancing or singing is a playful positive thing and they dance to Gwyn( they danced with her breath as though they heard a silent music which in my opinion the mate bond, SJM described the bond as the song between mates souls) . There by proving they are indeed mates!!!!

3. Azriel's mother is alive , he doesn't still talk about her but he loves her and is fiercely protective of her. It would be an important part in his healing and journey. Thereby further solidifying that his book is NEXT.

There are a lot more plot points I shall pull up once everyone has access to the book about why it's definitely going to be Azriels book.

Also, the sleeping beauty non sense based on stone mother and glass coffin is the worst reach ever , I can write why it's wrong on so many levels but I would be adding spoilers that aren't from the bonus and I don't want to do that.

All I will say is that the sleeping beauty reach was worse than Bread and Roses , I don't know how they keep outdoing their own levels of idiocy so well .

Sorry the answer was long but I would rather be thorough 🤗

AND THATS WHAT YOU MISSED ON GLEE

(You cool kids will need to tell me if I said it right 😅)

[sunshinebingo]

The Things Autumn Did To Me

Merry Christmas @thelov3lybookworm!!! 🎁 It has been so nice to meet you through @acotargiftexchange and I had a great time secretly interacting with you. I had a lot of fun experimenting with your gift too (you and I have a lot in common btw 😌). I really hope that you will enjoy the slight mess that is this fic 🤭

***

Synopsis: Two months into their convenient marriage and Gwyneth and Azriel still have very strong feelings for each other. Is it really the hate that they claim it to be, or something else? Not even they can tell.

However, another chance at tackling the failed mission that has led them to where they are will make the two spies face something that they have both been afraid of. After all, the line separating hate from desire can be very thin.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warning: None for this chapter

Find the Masterlist here

Read Chapter 1 on Ao3 or below the cut

“Wife,” he sneered.

“Husband,” she sneered back.

Azriel walked to end of the table and sat down, carefully adjusting his wings behind him.

“Glad to see that you are still alive,” he said, pulling the plate that his wife had already filled for him closer.

“Glad to know that I am still the funny one,” Gwyn replied without looking up from her own plate.

Morning greeting, checked. Daily verification that his partner was still breathing, checked. What was left to do before breakfast? Ah right... Check the food for poison. His shadows made a sweep around the table, ensuring that nothing would lead to him dropping sick or dead.

When he finally raised his cup of tea to his lips after their quick inspection, his eyes landed on a pair of teal ones across the table. Azriel internally shuddered at Gwyn’s piercing gaze and at how her lips turned into a feline smirk.

“It will happen when you least expect it,” she said, then dug a knife into her pancakes.

Azriel snorted. As if she could sneak past his trusty shadows. They might have an odd affection for her – unlike their master – but they were still loyal to him. Many believed that, being a Shadowsinger, Azriel had full control over his shadows. He refrained from letting others know that they also tended to have a mind of their own. Like the little wisp which was currently ignoring him and was slowly making its way between the bowl of fruit and the teapot to reach her.

Gwyn’s eyes followed the movement of the shadow until it reached her hand and started swirling around her fingers, especially the one adorned with a silver band – a perfect match to the one on his own ring finger – that glinted against her pale, freckled skin. Her smile softened for the shadow in a way it never did for him.

While she watched the shadow, Azriel watched her. The rich copper hair that was put up in a very messy bun atop her head with random strands that escaped and which fell around her face, her pointed ears where she wore several simple studs, her nose and cheeks across which lay a scattering of freckles, as if someone had tossed them with a careless hand, her plump lips, her eyes. Those bright eyes that had unsettled him from the very first time he had looked into them. A depthless teal ocean that often seemed like they could see straight through him. Gwyn was a creature of cruel beauty and Azriel hated her more for it.

When she looked up from the shadow playing with her hand, Azriel lowered his eyes to his food before she could see the thoughts that he always tried his hardest to hide in her presence.

“Is there something on my face?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied, stirring his tea despite having added nothing to it.

“Well,” she went on, unable to stay quiet for long, as always. “What is it?”

“You look...” the shadows whispered an assortment of words though none that he was willing to use. Instead, he responded with, “...like you slept in a tree.”

Gwyn let out a snicker. “That would certainly be better than trying to sleep while listening to your pacing all night.”

It took him a few seconds to understand and none more to feel stupid about it. The endless pacing had nothing to do with the work he did at this hour and everything to do with him trying to focus while also attempting to block out the sound of her thumping heart and that of her mumblings while she slept. His office was right above her bedroom on the third level and he had selfishly never stopped to think that she might hear him walking around on the wooden floor when he could hear her too. He had tried to work in other rooms instead but the pestering of his shadows and their insistence to be close to her was even more annoying. At least in his office they shut up and contended themselves with spreading on the floor while listening to her.

It was the first time in the whole two months since they had been living together that she was mentioning it. Surprising of her since she often found something to complain about him. He did the same but, unlike hers, his complaints about her were at least justified.

“Some Spymaster you are,” she mumbled around a mouthful, “Not even able to walk without raising the dead.”

Azriel looked up at her and smirked. “I do it on purpose to piss you off.”

Gwyn swallowed her food. Her face remained impassive when she spoke again. “You do that well enough by just existing.”

He did not respond. He only held her gaze, risking getting lost in her ocean eyes, until footsteps were heard entering the dining room and someone cleared their throat.

“A letter arrived from the Prince of Autumn,” Roslin, their maid and one of the very few persons aware of the truth behind their union, announced and handed an envelope to Gwyn. Roslin had been Gwyn’s trusted maid when she lived in the Forest House. She was also a spy and had helped Gwyn with maintaining her second identity in the Autumn Court by covering up her secret activities. She offered Roslin her thanks with a usual friendly smile before the maid left the dining room.

“What is it?” Azriel asked, eyes narrowed on the folded paper that Gwyn took out of the envelope.

“Hopefully something that will get me as far away from you as possible.”

Her comment suddenly made him want to spend his entire day being as close to her as he could. Not because he liked her company whatsoever. Their shared mission already ensured that they spent a ridiculous amount of time together. Including sharing a house and attempting to look like an oh so happy couple in public.

“I’m afraid, dear wife, that no one can get rid of me so easily. Least of all you.”

Azriel had learned a great deal since they sealed their marriage two months ago. He obviously learned a lot about Gwyn. And, surprisingly, a lot about himself too, especially his patience and tolerance of her.

Gwyn placed the empty envelope on the table, picked up a little spoon and brandished it at Azriel as though it was a dagger. “I could kill you with this,” she narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m trembling,” he deadpanned. The shadows snickered around him.

He had always taken pride in his infinite patience. That was one of the qualities that made him the best at his job. But somehow, the female sitting across from him, reading her letter as if she wasn’t the bane of his existence, had found ways to challenge almost all of his skills, including his ability to remain calm under any circumstance, and also his ability to charm any female and male alike. That last skill would not be of much use anymore anyway since, to the rest of the world, all of it was now supposed to be reserved for Gwyn only. His wife. The one who made him lose his godsdamned mind in every possible way.

It was not as though he had ever seduced anyone in hope of anything more but a few hours of pleasure. His family thought that he refused to commit to a serious relationship, much less marriage, because his job was too dangerous to rope a potential partner in such things. Being the Spymaster and non-official torturer of his court made Azriel do things that most would cower to do and put him in dangers few were willing to face.

The reality was that Azriel did not want anyone to feel shackled to him. Although he had witnessed many successful relationships in his life, including the couples in his found family, his childhood had left more scars on him than those on his burned hands. He had witnessed what a monster his sire had been to his mother. For so long Azriel had feared that his resemblance to the cruel male might be more than physical. He feared that the beast he became when he tortured for the protection of his court might scare away a partner, or even worse, hurt them. So, instead of taking the risk, he preferred to block out the possibility of finding out altogether.

His several centuries as a spy might have made him an expert in the art of seduction, but he was empty handed when it came to true romantic feelings. Azriel doubted anyone with a bit of common sense would willingly stay with him if they knew how little he knew about love. Save for his family, the one with which he was related in every way except for blood, he had never let anyone close enough to his heart to feel such things. That was why he had been more than a little nervous when Rhysand and Eris had suggested this marriage, despite being aware that it was one of convenience. Imposed was a better word than suggested. Though even if Rhysand was his High Lord, Azriel could have still been opposed to his brother’s orders. But he did see the necessity of the situation, especially for Gwyn.

Since she was herself a spy, he knew that Gwyn had also seen her fair share of danger and blood. He knew what she also had to do to protect her court. Being from the Autumn Court and secretly acting with Eris against her High Lord for the greater good of Prythian, Azriel knew that her position had been more precarious than his. For Gwyn, this marriage was not just to keep plotting against Beron to put Eris on the throne. It was also to save her life. If the High Lord of Autumn found out that the lady who had lived in his home her whole life was a spy trying to bring him down, death would prove to be a small mercy for her.

For most, it might seem like their paths had crossed at one of the High Lord and Ladies’ meeting in Autumn, which also involved important members of all the seven courts and had fallen so deeply in love that they had been married in the same week. 

The truth was that they had met several times before that to exchange information about what Beron was up to behind closed doors. Gwyn was the one who Eris trusted to pass on information about his father’s secret plans. She had been like a beam in the night on their first meeting in a wood bordering her court. She had looked like she had been crafted by the capable hands of the Mother herself.

Gwyn had also looked like she was not happy at all with the new secret alliance between the Night Court and the Autumn Prince. Azriel had not been either. Even now, he was still suspicious of Eris’ true intentions when it came to this alliance. Azriel despised the arrogant Prince. He despised Autumn Court and anything that had to do with it. He had never wanted to work alongside one of them, but fate had apparently decided otherwise.

“I bet you would read that thing faster if it was smut,” he complained when she remained silent while her eyes kept going back and forth on the letter.

Gwyn looked up at him with another scowl. “Shut up and quit distracting me.”

With a flicker of her hand, she summoned a small golden flame that she then ran across the ivory page. She read the hidden message that Eris had left there for her before burning the entire letter along with the envelope.

“It’s an invitation from Eris,” she finally explained. “Autumn Solstice is being held at the Forest House in a week.”

Azriel cursed. As a former member, it was natural for the redhead to be invited to celebrate with the rest of her home court. But looking at Gwyn, he saw what she was not saying. This event would be their second, possibly last chance to get a hand on Beron’s plans and avoid a possible war, or at least prepare for an eventual one. Something else also shone in his wife’s eyes. A determination that this time, they would not fail. They should not. This marriage had been a last resort to hide Gwyn’s secret identity. It had been the only plan that Eris could come up with to get his cousin out of reach of his father before this one could start questioning her presence so close to his private quarters and start to suspect her.

“Well, my broody bat.”

Azriel rolled his eyes. Gwyn picked a bunch of grapes from the bowl and observed one carefully before popping it into her mouth. “I hope you’re ready to have some fun.”

“We’re going there on a mission Berdara. Not to party.”

Gwyn shrugged. “Who says one has to exclude the other.”

The two of them had different approaches to spying. Azriel preferred to keep to the dark. His shadows allowed him to remain unseen and unheard even in plain sight. He had always been the quiet kind of person, picking up clues by silently observing while his shadows searched for what was out of his reach. Gwyn, on the other, was the complete opposite. While she could also hide in plain sight, her talent was that of deception. She could have been a shape shifter with how easily she could adapt to and blend into any situation.

“How do you propose we do that?” he asked.

She pushed her empty plate aside and propped her elbows on the table.

“Well your shadows could signal us when the time is right.” She lifted the hand where a shadow was once again twirling in between her fingers and down her wrist.

“We’ll then pretend to sneak away to do what we were doing last time.”

Azriel’s fork stopped midway to his mouth. His shadows circled him excitedly, chanting their glee at Gwyn’s plan.

On the evening that had led to their current situation, Gwyn and Azriel were on a common mission to infiltrate Beron’s quarters to try and retrieve some incriminating documents about the High Lord of Autumn. These would have been the perfect proof to put Beron on trial for his actions against peace in Prythian. Unfortunately, a few wrong moves had led to them being caught where no one should have been. The only thing that had saved them then had been to act as if they had been a second away from having sex.

Azriel still remembered every single detail of it, from the very first second that Gwyn had grabbed his shirt and had pulled him down against her. He remembered how it had felt to have her in his arms, how her lips had moved fervently against his as if her life depended on it, which it did. If he closed his eyes, he could recall how her hands had felt as she had glided them across his chest, his arms, on his neck and the way she had tugged at the roots of his hair. How urgent those same hands had been when she had pull him closer by hooking a finger at the seam of his pants. The sounds she had made when his tongue had tangled with hers had been louder than the approaching footsteps of the guards. Perhaps it was in that exact moment, where his mission had shifted from those documents to her, that his shadows had started to become obsessed with her. More so than they had been since they started meeting for a few brief minutes to exchange information.

Everyone knew that Autumn Court faeries had fire in their veins. But only then had Azriel learned what the rumours were truly about. If a kiss that was devoid of feelings and which was only meant to fool the guards was like that, then Azriel did not even want to think about what a real kiss from her would be like. He refused to imagine it. The fake one had burned a big enough hole in him. Glancing at the Autumn female across the table, Azriel cursed her for having ruined every kiss he ever had before and certainly all others that he could have had if he was not bound to her.

“Or,” he proposed to prevent himself from spiralling deeper into their backstory and what it was doing to him. “We can just pretend to leave.”

Gwyn looked at him like he had said the stupidest thing ever. The last time he followed her lead had resulted in them getting married. What would happen this time? Would Eris find a random child that they would be forced to raise together to keep up their disguise? Azriel’s thoughts quieted when a shadow rushed from where it was hovering beside his left wing to remind him of what had prompted her to kiss him and he reluctantly agreed to the reasoning behind it.

He went on explaining the paths that they could take around the Forest House to avoid running into anyone if they followed his plan and how his shadows would help in the process.

“Well?”

He waited for her opinion when he finished.

“Huh? Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

Azriel closed his eyes and sighed. Fucking Autumn courts and their fucking hard heads. Fucking wife and her fucking stubbornness.

“You come up with something then, smart-ass.”

She started to open her mouth but Azriel cut her off. “Something that does not involve fucking in Beron’s quarters.”

Gwyn huffed. Her cheeks started to turn pink, probably from the fire coursing through her and which seemed to run hotter at every outburst. “I wasn’t about to say that, you dimwit.”

Azriel gave her another roll of his eyes before returning to his food. Gwyn said nothing more. Yet by looking at her face, the emotions that he was still learning to read there, Azriel could see the gears of her mind working. She remained like this for the whole time that he finished his breakfast.

When he was done, he rose from his chair and walked to her. He grabbed her chin between his thumb and index and lifted her head until she looked at him.

“We have a week to come up with a solid plan. There’s no need to fry up your head over this right away.”

He suspected that she was worried about going back while there were still talks about her. Leaving the Forest House was not so simply done without a proper reason after all, especially for someone who had been raised there. Several rumours had already rose about the lady who had so hastily left her home to settle in the Night Court with the infamous Shadowsinger. His reputation in Rhys’ inner circle alone had fuelled the suspicions of more than one person, including Beron.

Azriel dragged his thumb along the seam of her lips, right where a trace of the syrup from her pancakes was still glistening.

“You’ll need that brain of yours to come up with more creative insults for me. The ones you currently have are terrible,” he added.

Gwyn brought a hand to the one that held her face. She slowly wrapped her long fingers around his wrist without looking away from his face. More pink spread across her cheeks and made her freckles stood out. Azriel badly wanted to know what she was truly hiding behind those eyes in this moment.

“Can you please do something for me, my dear husband?” her voice came out like a soft breeze singing in the night. Azriel had the reflex to stop his wings from twitching.

“What is it?”

He convinced himself that his breathlessness had nothing to do with that voice which was sweeter than the sticky syrup on his finger. Her hand tightened around his wrist.

“Throw yourself off a cliff,” she gritted out and forcefully yanked his hand away. Gone was the sweet, melodic voice. Her chair made a loud screeching sound as she pushed it back and stood.

Azriel held in a chuckle when she raised her chin and stomped off of the living room. “See you later, my annoying husband.”

He followed her as he made his way to his room. “Sure, my petulant wife.”

They went up the stairs and reached the door to her room first. Gwyn paused with a hand on the handle. “Don’t miss me too much, my haughty husband.” She opened the door and walked inside.

Azriel stood at the threshold of her bedroom with his arms crossed and a smirk on his lips. “You wish, my Autumn witch.”

Gwyn’s returning smile was as wicked as a witch’s. “I know you will.” And she slammed the door in his face.

To Be Continued...

[saphirered]

Sending you a spice request from the prompts list! Steamy baths with Eris ;) can’t wait to see what you come up with!

Okay I may have gone a little filthy with this one. I'll own up to my spot in horny jail with the rest of you. 😘

It’s been a long day. The sun has yet barely reached it’s highest point and Eris is this close from incinerating the room for a moment of peace. Instead he is stuck dealing with the woes of politics, of presenting himself like an arrogant bastard, which he is admittedly but that does not mean he should let himself give in and speak his mind so freely. He has a reputation to uphold, a game to play and a throne to earn and until he sits upon it he shall play this game, however much it might annoy him to death. He will restrain the wildfire until freedom beckons. Oh how he longs for that freedom. His imagination gives him some escape and drowns out the useless words of bickering nobility. 

He may sit at his father’s side but his mind is elsewhere, far from this council room in a distant court. Instead Eris finds himself in the vast forests he calls home. The leaves crunch beneath his feet, the smell of the autumn air relaxes his mind and body. The cooling breeze turns his fingertips slightly cold and numb. He finally feels like he can breathe. There is no eyes to be wary of. There is a presence beside him, some incoherent and far too distant words and he wishes nothing more than to have those words overshadow what his senses back in the real world pick up on. He would recognise that voice anywhere. You’re right beside him. Memory replays the feeling of your hand in his, your fingers warming that gentle chill. He looks to his side and there you are, smiling. What a beautiful smile you have. What beautiful eyes. He could drown in their depth. He could be lost forever if you did not snap him out of it. No that wasn’t you. His name was called by different voice, one intrusive and unwanted. He’s pushed back to reality, away from you and he mourns the lack of your presence. The only relief his mind offers is the knowledge he will see you soon. 

You had known the promise he’d be back in your arms before you knew it was an empty one. You would never fault him for it. Eris, while a man of his word, could not control the circumstances of his extended life and responsibilities. Perhaps you might claim he was foolishly optimistic, but then again, he’s probably also aware of this fact and so it must be not but wishful thinking. Instead of a swift return to your side to watch the sunset you witnessed it on your own. Instead of a lovely dinner together you consumed your supper at the mostly empty table with the others left behind and excluded from the inter-court meetings. Not that you complain. You would rather be here enjoying a peaceful meal than deal with the bickering and moaning of idiots, vipers and idealists. You will attend if asked but will not mourn the lack of invitation. 

You’ve other means to keep busy and you are not one to sit around and wait for someone to whisk you away and so you did. You tended to the hounds, read up on the latest ongoings, socialised here and there, trained, made yourself useful, saw to your correspondence, went out for a ride, helped tend to the gardens and more. You kept busy on your own but every once in a while your mind would wander and think what your darling love would be up to, how he must be fighting the urge to roll his eyes or verbally tear apart another, how he must be polishing his shields both social and mental and weave a narrative that puts him at the advantage. You know Eris pretends it doesn’t affect him but you know the truth. You have seen him sit on the edge of the bed, his hands in his hair. You’ve watched him politely excuse himself to unleash the boiling of his blood upon some poor unsuspecting clearing. You have listened to his rambling about courtiers and high lords. You have held him when he questioned if it was all worth it. 

It is because of these things you know you do not mind the lack of his constant attention. In fact, you do not think you could bear it in the first place. So you dine without your lover, you find your own amusement come sundown. In the spirit of this time to yourself you have the staff draw you a bath. If you are to spend this night alone you will do so in comfort. A bath will ease the ache of your muscle and soothe your skin quite nicely. That’s where you find yourself now, a large bath filled with steaming water, the scent of bergamot in the air. You’ve sunken down to your neck, leaning back and enjoying the warmth. You’ve sent off the maids with the implication you will tend to yourself and do not need to be coddled by their nurturing grace. Peace and quiet and solitude, that’s what you require and that’s what you shall get. Your mind wanders far and pleasantly so. You forget the meaning of time and the water must have long since cooled to a lukewarm but you care little. 

“We shall conclude this meeting some other time.” Eris had both dreaded and longed for those words. The meeting has finally ended and so he is finally dismissed. It ended up taking another hour or so before he could detach himself from his own entanglement, before he could escape further dealings with the Night Court and turning down Helion’s open invitation to visit the esteemed libraries once more. Finally he left behind the blabbering high lords’ council and found himself back int he comforts of cool darkness graced with lantern light. The feeling of leaves crushing beneath his boots is a stark contrast from the marble and stone he’d been surrounded by for the day. He has missed the sunset but the stars breaking through the clouds offer some relief at last. 

With each step the takes, even after he walks through the threshold and back into wood and stone, the burdens stay at the doorstep, the further he gets from it, the more his body relaxes, or so he thinks. Everything feels easier. He chooses to ignore those in passing, using his power within his own court to brush them aside; nothing out of character for him. Nothing anyone can blame him for either. They expect him to be upset with another meeting ending in a stalemate waste of time. Let the court know. He will turn it to his advantage either way. Finally the portal to his comfort comes within sight and had he less restraint he might have ran and locked away the world behind him forever. Instead he slips through the doors quietly and closes them behind him. 

The candles are alight. The fireplace is but embers at this point. He simply throws in another log. A simple breath of air sparks the flames to life and allow them to catch. When the wood crackles Eris is satisfied. With whatever graces he found within him he carries himself to the bedroom, discards his shoes and socks, letting the cold run through his feet in an attempt to remind himself he is not but floating upon the winds of exhaustion. He unclasps his tailored jacket and casts it aside as if it were not the livelihood of the ones who made it. He has lost the will to care. He could have collapsed onto the bed when he first laid eyes on it but the gentle candle glow from the bathing room kept him standing. 

With a soft creak the door opens and within lies a sight beholden, a true treasure and one that should be captured for eternity. Perhaps he would owe the High Lady of Night a favour if that’s what it took to eternalise this. Perhaps the only thing stopping him is how you’d scold him for it. Perhaps he fears it might inflate your ego far past measure. Your eyes are closed. You are leaned back, head just above the water and neck fully exposed. The light graces your features just perfectly as it reflects. 

“The bed is far better suited for sleeping than a bathtub. No matter how comfortable you might look.” Eris slowly makes his way over to you. You take a deep breath and open your eyes. Your eyes. He forgets all he’s endured with but a single glance. Sadly this only lasts but a second. 

“You are quite right but I’m not tired. Just relaxed.” You let your fingers dance over the surface of the water. “You should try it some time, my love.” Even now you find it within yourself to humour him. 

“Some of us do not have the luxury to relax this much. I shall reserve and defend that right for you and you alone.” He takes your hand and brings it to his lips to kiss but then realises. “The water is awfully cold.” he simply states, still he kisses your fingertips. 

“Well I didn’t have you here to help me warm it.” The sultry look you give him has him nearly undone in that instant. How he’s longed for your company. The once certainty that keeps him from insanity in the chaos; the serenity you bring but what rushes through him right there is anything but serene and the implications you present are anything but innocent. Eris forgets the tiredness that haunted his body and finds a different spark of life. You’ve learned to light it, made an art form out of it. 

“How unbecoming of me.” He’s on his knees at the side of the tub and gently brings your fingers back beneath the surface of the cooling water. With but a brush from right where your legs are bent, all the way to just in front of your chest the water heats in but seconds, steam evaporating but those fingers do not stop trailing there. they trail a scalding but never painful path up your sternum and the column of your neck until they settle and lift your chin. That same heat burns in the kiss he plants upon your lips. Far too short. His lips pull away far too quickly and you might as well have been exposed to the frigid cold of winter then and there. By the looks of it Eris know it too. 

“If you are in no mood to assist me, I suppose I shall simply retire.” You rise exposing all the delicious curves of your body and giving him an ample view as the droplets run across your skin. Eris imagines he could kiss them all away, let his lips trail across you like they do and perhaps you shall grace him with the lovely sounds you make when he takes his lips to you. 

“You misunderstand, my dearest. But if you wish to cut short this bath I am more than willing and consenting to helping you to bed. Or we can stay here and enjoy a bath… or two.” You seem to weigh your options but simply by the way your pupils dilate; the way they do when he’s broken through your composure, to where your desire truly sparks and you will not be afraid to make him eat his words. 

You do not reply in words but simply hold out your hand and raise an eyebrow. Eris is quick to take your hand and help you out of the bathtub. You are dripping onto the floor but seem to care very little as you saunter over to the towels. The sway of your hips and sultry look over your shoulder are definitely intentional. Nevertheless you take a towel and pad yourself dry until he can’t help himself and gently eases the towel from you and equally gently uses it to pad you dry until you’re satisfied. Once you are you stand in front of him, close within arm’s reach. You trail a nail along the neckline of his shirt and sigh content. The wickedness in your eyes is but a giveaway of your next actions. Your fingers grasp onto his shirt and pull him to you, once more your lips meet his and this time the kiss is anything but soft and sweet. 

Your lips grace his in a feverish kiss. Eris does not hesitate to return the favour. He lets his hands wander until they settle on your behind. In one fell swoop you are off your feet and wrap your legs around his waist. Never once do you break your kiss. Your tongues meet and you wrap your arms around his neck clutching him ever closer. Like he has done many times before, Eris caries you out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, graceful as ever and never once stumbling. He has committed this path to memory but finally he has to break away. You are a sight to behold; lips swollen, out of breath, and eyes filled with desire honing in on him. He takes great pride in being able to make you come so undone. he lays you down on the bed and you crawl backwards to give him space to join you among the pillows. 

Eris crawls overtop, trailing a path of kisses from your calves over your knees and thighs and you think, you hope he would settle among the apex of your legs but instead he just looks up at you and trails his lips up further across the plains of your stomach. It’s difficult to resist the urge to whine in protest and by the looks of it he noticed. Still he trails up and up until he meets your lips in another desire filled kiss so you decide fair is fair and let your hands wander over his clothed chest, down to where his shirt is tucked into the waistband of his fitted trousers and let your finger slip below that cursed waistband but never enough. All you do is release the shirt and Eris decides to undo your torture by taking it off entirely with a knowing look. 

“If you wished to get my out of my clothes you could have just asked.” He muses casting the garment aside. It’s torture to keep yourself together right now and not just succumb to carnal pleasure. This is just foreplay and it’s a game you’d hoped to win but you see your chances of success fleeting. To see him on his knees before you, cauldron boil you. 

“Dick.” You curse and his chuckle does not make you feel any different. 

“You’ll have to work harder for that.” He crawls back overtop just to place a peck upon your lips. When you go in for more, you feel his hand on your neck, to keep you at bay. His grip isn’t strong or suffocating, just present, floating and preventing your lips from meeting his. You huff. 

Eris’ response to your dissatisfaction is cruelty, he knows. Leaving kisses, letting his tongue trail he takes to your chest until you cannot hold back the whimpers and moans, until you fight to hold back the beg for more, only then does he trail lower yet always too slow. But then finally, it all pays off when he descends between your legs and puts his mouth to work, licking and kissing your inner thighs inching closer to the centre, until finally he does. He does not relent, not when your breathing increases and your whines turn to whispers of his name, not when your fingers settle within his hair and hold on, push him closer. When your legs wrap closer around him he grasps onto your thighs, spreading them further while placing a hand onto your abdomen just in the right place. He doesn’t relent when he feels you shudder and shake in your pleasure, not until you come down from that high and your body goes limp for but a second. 

He keeps going and soon without a moment of rest you tumble into pure ecstasy again and again. Only when you pull his hair, pull his face away from between your legs, when you are truly out of breath and your eyes are burning, your skin is on fire and you have lost the ability to speak, only then does he relent. You guide him up, to meet his lips. He knows you can taste yourself on his tongue when his dances with yours. He knows you need this right now. It’s the only break you’ll receive, especially when he feels your hands wander down below and undo the buttons of his pants. His own arousal is undeniable and while he would be more than satisfied using his tongue to make you cry his name, you have other intentions and ideas he’s more than happy to help you see through even if it takes all his restraint not to spill at your touch and your disheveled look when he parts and you help him out of his last clothes, casting them aside he cares not where. 

You have vengeance on your mind and when he is caught of guard, when you are so close to kissing him you push him back onto the bed and straddle him. Your fingers lace with his as you hold them on either side of his head. You lean down to kiss him once more with a wicked smirk. Perhaps it would be you who wouldn’t be done with him for some time. 

[darkbluekies]

I feel like I need to show that I am not only writing psychopaths and can also write normal, protective characters lmao

I will share 2 of my private novels with you, translated. The names are shortened so that I don't expose them, because I kinda want to keep them private for the future hehe (probably forgot a few places but oh well)

I will show the mood board for the story and a profile I've made for the characters to help you visualize them better (helps me when writing too haha)

Story 1

"Do you want to go out? You haven't been out much, have you?”

HG shook his head. Fresh air could do him good, he thought, but he knew he shouldn't go out alone. If BN was there, it would probably be okay. BN patted his skinny knee twice.

"Good, then we're going out," he decided and stood up. "Wait here. Do you need your cane, do you think?”

“No, I have the IV stand.”

Without answering anything, BN disappeared into the hall, first up the stairs, then down and then away in the narrow corridor to the kitchen and dining room. HG sat in silence, waiting for him to return, which he did five minutes later, wearing his brown coat and HG's beige jacket hanging over his arm. He gestured with his hand for HG to stand up.

"Come on then," he said.

HG pulled himself up from his chair and followed BN out into the hall. BN slung HG'S jacket over his shoulders and frowned at the hose dangling from HG'S left hand. HG pulled his right arm into the sleeve and let his other arm hang free.

“This works,” he said.

"Don't you think you're going to get cold?" BN wondered.

HG shook his head. BN opened one of the double doors, holding it open so HG could get out with his IV stand. The small wheels got stuck in the uneven planks of the porch. Frustrated, HG pried them free and sighed heavily.

"If it sticks here, it'll stick everywhere," HG muttered, biting his lower lip in frustration.

“Should I carry it for you?” BN wondered.

“No, I got it.” HG took another hold and carried it down the stone porch steps. He groaned as he put his feet down on the gravel yard. Anything but hard wood floors were foreign to him. Hesitantly, he took a few tentative steps forward. HG looked away towards the lake and the dark forest.

“Can we go there?” he asked, pointing away towards the fir trees. “Into the woods?”

"Sure," BN replied. “Has it been a long time since you were in a forest?”

HG nodded and swallowed a sad sigh. He had loved to climb trees, had known how to place his feet so as not to fall. It was just that day…

He let BN guide him past the eye-like lake. The reeds near the edges stretched up to the sky.

The ground inside the forest was wet. What HG'S IV stand didn't get stuck on, he tripped over himself. BN took a firm grip on HG'S right arm, not hard enough to hurt him, but a grip strong enough to catch him in case he fell. Few red, yellow and green leaves hung desperately on their branches, as if they knew they would soon be killed and replaced by spring. The sunlight did not reach down to the ground

"I used to see the woods from my bedroom window," said HG, letting his eyes take in the sights around him. "I saw the seasons change from a distance ... it's another thing to see it up close."

“Quite beautiful.”

HG nodded in agreement. There was something youthful about the forest in autumn.

"I have an idea where we can go," BN suggested, nodding towards the fir trees. “I saw a clearing not far from here.”

“Is it within the territory?”

"I didn't see a fence, anyway."

HG couldn't help laughing. "Adequate. Come on, lead the way, then.”

BN took him to an open field where no man had sown, but where there was still tall, yellow grass. The sun beamed down on them. HG squinted up at the sky. BN took off his brown coat and spread it out on the grass. He gestured for HG to sit down. They disappeared into the grass, the only thing still visible was the stand rising above.

"Nice fresh air," BN sighed, resting his head back. He rolled his eyes. “I needed it after that card game. [other character] does not play nice, I can tell you that.”

"Or you're not good enough," said HG teasingly.

BN opened one of his brown eyes and squinted at him with a crooked smile. “I'm fucking phenomenal at card games, how dare you? You and I will play some day and I will teach you not to underestimate me.”

“You must have had a lot of training on the ice anyway. Did you play a lot of card games at home? With your friends?”

BN fell silent. He sat up and hid his hands in his pockets. HG frowned.

"What?" he asked confused. "What is it?"

"I had a card game, but we didn't play very often," BN muttered, squirming, as if trying to get out of his own skin. His voice sounded quieter, almost sad. "That's not what we ... we did."

"'We'?"

BN sighed, seemed to be searching for the right words. His eyes remained downcast. “I'm so glad I came here, HG. And that I got to meet you and the others. You are so different from my friends back in town.”

He brought out his trembling hands. HG remembered how they had been covered in scabs and wounds the first time he had shaken hands with BN. The wounds had healed by now, but the marks of violence still remained.

"I didn't want to tell you, I'm ashamed."

He fell silent again. HG said nothing, not wanting to disturb his thoughts.

"At home, in town, I wasn't very nice," BN continued, shaking his head in despair. “I got into a lot of fights. I didn't know what to do … I didn't want to continue … so I came here.”

HG suddenly felt a pair of strong arms around him, and a warm cheek against his shoulder. He tilted his head towards BN'S and glanced down at his hands.

"Why didn't you want to tell me earlier?" HG wondered.

"I didn't mean to scare you away," BN replied quietly. “I thought you'd be uncomfortable if you knew. You don't like violence.”

“No, I don't, but you don't have to worry about that. That's just stupid.”

BN let go of him and hugged his legs. He smiled sheepishly.

"It feels better now," he laughed briefly. “When I get home, I will stop being with them. I know how I want to be now. With you I can only ... sit. We don't have to do anything. We can just sit and talk. I like it."

HG smiled weakly. He'd never thought he'd have a friend—not someone like BN, anyway. The fear of losing him haunted HG every time he was alone.

BN took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, fished out a narrow cylinder.

"You really should stop that," said HG.

"I have!" BN smiled proudly and shrugged. "In almost all cases. I barely smoke anymore, but I need to calm my nerves after this.”

He lit the cigarette and brought it to his lips, drew in a breath and blew out gray, foul-smelling smoke. HG waved his hand in front of them, trying desperately to part the smoke. BN took a sandwich wrapped in a paper out of his pocket and held it out to HG.

“Here,” he said. “I brought it to you.”

“Is this some kind of bribery?” HG grinned weakly and accepted the sandwich, unfolding the paper carefully. "So that I won't complain about your smoke?"

"No, because you haven't eaten anything today."

Story 2

They showed their tickets and identification papers to a man dressed in a black suit who studied the papers carefully. Finally he nodded and stepped aside. OL pushed GS forward first, and then TN.

"Don't push me, I can walk myself," she grumbled.

The compartment had about twenty hard, dirty wooden benches in a row, divided into four-seaters. OL frowned at the stench that had spread, despite half the windows being open. The train began to shake and OL had to grab the wall to keep from falling forward. They made their way through the center aisle until they found an empty bench. It was only built for two, so OL lifted GS onto her lap and wrapped her arms tightly around her slim waist. The nine-year-old amused herself by leaning his head out of the window and feeling the wind in his hair. She laughed and turned her twinkling eyes on OL before popping her head out the window again.

OL turned to TN who looked up from her lap doubtfully. She twirled a lock of hair between her fingers.

"What is it?" OL asked, leaning closer. "Are you okay?"

"Why is everyone staring?" TN whispered so quietly that OL doubted she had said anything. “Did I do something?”

OL bit down and let her eyes wander over the compartment. She was filled with that incomprehensible feeling again. The men in the compartment were like animals, like the magister. They shared the same dark, burning gaze that seemed to shamelessly burn away her clothes. TN didn't understand yet, she didn't understand how beautiful she really was and OL didn't want to tell her.

OL gesticulates for GS to jump to the floor and quickly switched places with TN, shoving her towards the window.

"But I want to look!" GS complained.

"You can still look," reminded OL. "By the way, maybe you shouldn't hang out the window, it could be dangerous."

TN gave her a small, grateful smile which OL returned warmly. She turned her gaze towards the center aisle and glared at those who dared to glance in their direction.

[mistymem0ryy]

The bliss of a nightly coffee

Yandere Zhongli x Reader (Fem)

Summary: In which you and Zhongli take a train towards the capital, and the scenery reminds you of the love you once held for each other.

Author's notes:  this story is partially based upon my ever constant train rides and the intriguing people I happen to see in them… In this scenario Zhongli is a renowned history professor and the reader is coded as also being in academia (the prestige and the subject of her role are left for the reader to decide). It is underlined throughout the story that Zhongli comes from not only a far wealthier background than reader but also possesses a far more traditional outlook on life than reader. (so sort of modern AU??)

TW: indications of alc0h0l, possible drugg1ng and just yandere themes in general?

No beta, we survive the trenches this way.

If there was something within this life from which you could always find a morsel of unreasonable contentment, it would certainly be 1st class train voyages.

There is a fantastical element inherent to their glamorous silence, a distancing comfort to be found slithering away within the limits of an empty carriage.

Some years ago, such overbearingly enchanting ambiance would have made you shiver in an anxious, and perhaps even futile, attempt at controlling your senses. But much has changed since then. You have learnt to bear the cold.

What they never tell you about this sort of high-grade carriages is that all human warmth vanishes from its encasing, it crawls away into the opposite confines of the racing locomotive, reaching its warm fingertips towards the lingering chatter tucked away from diamond adorned ears. It’s as if the laws of thermodynamics had their ticket confiscated - thermal equilibrium but a mere folktale traded from mouth to mouth.

You can never find within yourself the firm decision to either devote your adoration to the rushing nature beyond the tainted windows or to contemplate the inner workings of the countless adornments within your carriage. 

Eventually you decided to draw your gaze away from the rushing fields, there was nothing there left for you.

Rococo with an uncanny mixture of neoclassical decor and an added aroma of Turkish coffee that made you sight from the sheer delectability of it. You have been abstaining from tea as much as possible these days. You aren’t able to clearly point out the reason why but coffee simply happens to feel more enjoyable. Warmer. Safer.

You have tasted enough coffee in your life to know if something’s wrong.

You stretch your fingers towards the pastry patiently waiting within its porcelain platter, a raspberry macaroon, not too big, not too small, the aroma it exudes carries with it a sugary scent, a freshness you've been craving for a long time.

You close your eyes as your lips meet the firm shell of the pastry once shared between Italian monks and later on between French aristocrats, shutting your sight away so that your taste buds may enjoy the smooth ganache to the fullest. 

But, as with any miraculous comfort in this life, a fruitless end must too be met. Your moment of bliss is ripped away from you as a gloved hand meets your partially naked shoulder. Fingers nearing the laced cord whose firmness held a beguiling jade stone in place, gracefully adorning the slight valley between your collar bones. You do not have to open your eyes to know to whom that hand belongs to.

Fine leather, the work of a seamstress who has mastered her craft with years of hardship. Yves Saint Laurent Autumn collection. A pair of gloves that could have paid your rent back in university. The surface is supposed to be comforting, delicate even, and yet its texture makes your skin crawl by some unexplored aversion. As you open your eyes your sight lands first and foremost upon the dark glove nearing your neck, they were beautiful, you had chosen them for him after all, there was always this glowing look upon his features every time you cowered to his whims and went on the ‘retail therapy sessions’ he so advocated for. 

Most of the time they were simple excuses for him to blow entire checks on bags you would only wear once or twice. Countless pieces of gold jewelry that he would ‘oh so graciously’ request the store’s employees to put upon your skin himself. Fingertips glazing over collarbones and warm breaths reaching for your exposed skin making your body freeze in sudden alert.

You have been married for years. A marriage built upon a fruitful relationship, which in its turn was constructed upon one of the greatest friendships you’ve ever had the blessing of creating. And yet it was always there, lingering. This fear you find no rational justification for.

It's moments like these that take you back to your early university days. When the fear wasn’t that prominent, perhaps it hadn’t taken root yet, or perhaps it had always been there, hiding beneath the layering soil of the earth, only to take bloom once you had buried yourself too deep to the point where escape was but a mere fantasy.

‘I have been looking for you my dear.’

His voice comes out honeyed and sickly sweet, like a tarte tatin, freshly cooked from a little boulangerie in the south of France. You remember visiting it with Zhongli during your first year together, you had been the one to order since your French was better than his. You had taken a childish pride in knowing that at least in this scenario you happened to possess the upper hand. Back in the day you did not read much into this sentiment, though your present self genuinely wished you had done so. 

Your desire towards saccharine things has become much more prominent as of late, they make your teeth ache in momentary torture but even the pain has its own characteristic bliss.

‘Did you hear me, my love?’

Your eyes finally meet his, they are lightly covered by his growing bangs, the contrast between his dark strands and his golden eyes makes it look as if each of his orbs have been divided in two. It gives him a certain dragonic look you were never afraid to point out even when you were mere acquaintances. His tall stature and classic manner of holding himself always gave you the notion that he carried something sacred, something ancient within him. There was a certain allure to the renowned history professor that always made everyone stop momentarily and simply be carried away by this archaic aura surrounding him.

‘I am sorry… I wasn’t here, could you repeat it?’

‘I asked you if you think it is wise to be drinking coffee at this hour?’

Though a stranger would only be capable of perceiving the teasing tone within his statement, you could clearly discern the underlying patronizing approach of his question, not exactly in a condescending manner and yet not too far away from it either.

‘I find that independently of the hour, there is nothing as comforting as a cup of coffee, does it bother you in any way?’

You were testing the waters. Not too confronting to cause him insult and yet not too diminishing in order to cause your own ego injury. These days you never knew what could set Zhongli off. Or yourself for that matter.

‘It is not exactly a matter of bothering me, rather it is a preference of being able to sleep alongside my wife without all the shuffling that is provided from someone with an overly caffeinated body’

To that statement no quick or witty stab back could be brought forth. It was true. Night and sleep haven’t been your dearest companions as of late, but you knew for certain that caffeine had nothing to do with the matter. It was mostly unspent energy, guarded anger you feared to let out all at once for you could not clearly predict the following consequences. So you did what you thought wisest and held it encased within your body, it sipped out slowly but surely, its presence made known in the lightest of manners possible. Be it troubled sleep, long periods of spacing out or a recurrently reappearing frown within your features.

In your own defense you did not think you would stay in the train for such a long period of time, you had only been told to pack your bags in order to accompany your husband to one of his academic conferences in the capital, naively thinking that once he started the engine of his car he would take you both to the nearest airport. But it had not been the case, your husband had decided that it was certainly the best moment within your relationship to surprise you with a 5 day long luxury train voyage towards your initial destination, yet again without any regard to your view upon the matter itself.

In a way, you gathered all your forces in order to rationalize Zhongli’s actions. He is an intelligent man. You married one of the most well known Professors of his field for god’s sake. You knew the strength it took to survive academia and though Zhongli certainly had the upper hand due to his family history, his achievements could not all be simply reduced to his family name.

Perhaps this was all some sort of reaction to your breakdown some weeks ago, in a way you certainly regret it, but in another you definitely saw it coming. You like to tell yourself that Zhongli was attentive enough to see it coming too. 

There wasn’t really any sort of revelation that made you blow up in the heat of the moment, rather it was a prolonged and painful accumulation of both annoyance and rage,clambering one on top of another until a single comment and annoyed sigh made it all fall apart from its static grandeur.

‘If your job at university bothers you so deeply I have offered you previously the comfort necessary to leave it, yet you always deny it.’

You liked to think that he himself did not consider the possibility that you would trade all of those hard earned diplomas to fulfill whatever fantasy marinated in his head ever since you both attended one of his friends' wedding.

 Before that night, he had never mentioned it to you in such direct speech and such a face to face approach, about how he wished for children, your undivided attention, family vacations and you always and strictly by his side. He had been slightly inebriated, too much osmanthus wine you presumed. The mention of ‘the measures to which he would go in order to be sure of your safety within his own embrace alone’ were enough to cut the conversation immediately. Blame it on the alcohol, you reassured yourself. 

You had reacted badly, but in all honestly who could blame you at this point, you did not want Zhongli to tell you that if you were in such distress you could always become his fulltime housewife, you wanted him to give you strength and be there for you whenever the circumstances got worse. And yet, the prospect itself of leaving your job and living off of Zhongli’s wealth wasn’t what struck the most dread within your already dismaying mind, rather it was the look that took over his features while he mulled over such thoughts. 

How his eyes quickly darkened and a slight smirk pushed the ends of his lips towards his rose tinted cheeks. Blame it on the alcohol, you pleaded yourself.

You guessed that, even within the most reputable and honorable of men, selfishness had its way of slithering into one's tongue, scales rushing through the soaring throat and from there finally reaching into the pumping heart, that is of course, if the heart itself hasn’t been overturned into one of its countless dominions already.

The same man that revealed to you the sickest of desires through a gaze alone, now looked at you with a mixture of concern and scrutiny swarming within his golden eyes.

‘Perhaps a chamomile tea will permit your nerves to be calmed? We wouldn't want you to reach our destination enveloped in complete exhaustion now would we, my gem?’

‘NO- I mean, I- there is no need… I have told you countless times that the tea here makes me nauseous, will you stop nagging me with it for a second…’ Annoyance was all you could procure to hide away your true concerns, you could not shiver in front of him nor make too drastic a move, you even made a point of not looking too inquisitively towards the outside world beyond the windows. 

You had made countless ventures towards the capital during your early adult years, memories of visiting your old companion Beidou or going antique hunting with Zhongli during the initial stages of your friendship flooded your memory as if in a sudden flash. A 7 hour long train ride you usually had to book in advance to get the best deals as a struggling university student, a 7 hour long train ride that you had shared with friends and acquaintances that have come and gone, a 7 hour long train ride whose destiny certainly wasn’t the same you were previously made believe you were now heading towards. 

You cannot be certain when and how you noticed it, if it was the outside fauna that simply did not sit well with your fading memory, if it was the fervent way Zhongli made sure whatever words were shared between you and the staff were not enough to make them linger for long, if it was his embrace that once a source of delight and comfort now became one of alarm and wariness.

‘There is no need to show such intense aversion to it my dear, I would only add one or two valerian roots, nothing too drastic.’ The mirth dripping from his tongue nearly made you convulse. The heavy grip upon your shoulder lessened while long fingers reached for your chin, forcing your gaze to remain connected to his own.

‘Now let’s go back to our carriage, I believe you are in dire need of a good night of sleep, if it were not for my constant nagging that you so seem to dislike, how could you ever hope to survive this by yourself?’ He lightly chuckled after a careful change of intonation to smooth over the unfamiliar underlinings of his phrase.

If that wasn’t meant to be a threat then you did not know what it was meant to be. The abruptness of his words was accompanied by a sudden pang of fatigue throughout the entirety of your body. You are tired, you have been so tired for so long. It was as if exhaustion had suddenly reached for your throat and forbade you from even uttering a plea against its relentless grip. But how could you even dare to fight against it? Perhaps fighting wasn't even a viable choice anymore.

Could you even find comfort in alienating your own self from reality and bathing in fantasies of the past for much longer? Could you keep telling yourself there was nothing wrong with the windows? With the decor? With the coffee?

You could feel an amalgam of tears creeping its way from the ends of your torpid eyes, and yet you fought their arrival valiantly despite being fully aware of their inevitable fall. You could not find any feasible explanation for why you felt so much so suddenly, it was as if the control over your physique had been stolen and now somebody else spoke through its movements, through its urgings, through its lechery.

Until some days ago you genuinely and wholeheartedly believed that you were the person who knew Zhongli the best. Now you have been struck with the realization that you could not be further from the truth. 

Your mind wanders through sleepless nights spent restfully within the embrace of silk sheets and the warmth of golden eyes, through rushed visits to the archeological museum before its closing time so he could explain the historical background of some new exposition, through shared cups of tea during nightfall and an offered mug of your most coveted home brewed coffee the morning following, through discussions of philosophical movements alongside some osmanthus wine and inebriated laughter, through sudden embraces and rushing kisses that procured every single confine of your body as if to consume you whole.

Before your mind could even return wholly to reality, your body had already been laid upon cotton sheets perfumed with agarwood and slight notes of bergamot. Or was it patchouli? You could definitely uncover some layers of patchouli and perhaps even some modest nudges of vanilla here and there.

All of a sudden your careful analysis of smell was obstructed by an intense scent of ripe apricots alongside that of a honeyed autumn breeze touched by floral nuances you have grown familiar with over the years.

You smelt it before you heard it reach your husband’s crystal cup. 

Osmanthus wine.

You wanted to garner the strength to ask him where you were going, what were his intentions and if this was the reason behind his insistence on you taking the majority of his favorite pieces of your jewelry collection on this ‘trip’.

You knew Zhongli wasn’t a man of sudden changes, he took time as a relic and would never cower beneath sudden urges, so for how long had he been planning this? For how long had you been sleeping encaged by the warm embrace of the man that was planning to do god knows what with you?

The silent carriage was abruptly occupied by a deep gulp and a purging sight. You could hear footsteps approaching and yet you couldn't even twist your body towards their direction. Could you yell for help? And if you did would anyone even hear you? Come for you? Or would they instead have their worries ‘proven’ irrational by a charismatic smile of the man now lingering over you?

‘I am deeply sorry that things had to reach this point, my love’ 

No you’re not. 

His features were twisted and yet harmonious. You knew what his sorrowful face looked, or perhaps you did not at all. Perhaps you had fooled yourself into believing you could know someone as well as yourself when you could barely hope for a slight tinge of human honesty. 

‘Know simply that every single action I take is taken with the intent of proving to you that there is no place in this world crafted for yourself besides my own arms, I have given you years to wander about and reach that conclusion by yourself but I fear that you have become more unruly than I forethought….’ He kisses your forehead as one would kiss that of a lover on a moonless night, his lips still veiled with a light coat of expensive wine and a thousand lies.

At this moment, you could hope for many things, you could pray to some metaphysical entity inhabiting realms beyond the material, you could even plea for mythological furies to avenge what is to come, but perhaps blissful ignorance was the only thing potent enough to keep you ashore now.

Blame it on the alcohol, you implored yourself.

Blame it on anything, except the man you swore to love until the grip of hades were too much to bear.

[snapeaddict]

Snapetober Day 2 - Harvest

He Deserved Better AU – de-aged headcanon (Severus is de-aged after the war and becomes the ward of Albus and Minerva)

As always courtesy to @mmad-lover for being the brain behind this AU and also for giving me this prompt ;)

October, 1998

To bring Severus here – it was very special. To come here had been their very first tradition, many years ago, when the boy had been 22 and their newest teacher still: he had misery about him, and gloom, and melancholy. Watching him pass through a corridor, Albus had let his gaze linger on the apple trees outside and formed the idea instantly.

He had lied to the boy, of course. He had told him it was a tradition, that Horace usually did the first harvest of the year with him, that the new Potion Master had to carry the torch; that no one wanted to accompany him, and that he needed the help of someone younger and stronger.

“With all due respect, headmaster, I am sure you of all people can cast a simple summoning charm.”

“But apples need to be picked by hand, Severus! They are picked by hands by people on ladders, and put in beautiful baskets. They do not taste as good if magic has been used to gather them.”

“You know that I know this is incorrect”, Severus had muttered, looking away. “But I will accompany you, naturally… if you so wish.”

“Perfect! Meet me at the entrance at 2 this Saturday, my boy. And bring a basket!”

It had been the first time Severus had not behaved completely submissively – the first time he had directed a hint of irony at Albus’ expense.

The headmaster had thoroughly enjoyed it.

He looked down at the little boy who was holding his hand. Severus had rosy cheeks, and was watching their surroundings with unconcealed delight: his eyes were sparkling in the low autumnal sun. That child was so different from the man who had accompanied him here, on that day of October, 1982.

He was so full of life.

“Now, Severus”, Albus spoke, halting their steps, “we will work on those trees over there, because they have very low branches. You can climb on the stools I brought, but you must always wait for me. Is that alright?”

The boy nodded, not letting go of his hand. Minerva had dressed him in a gorgeous crimson coat. He looked as if he were a permanent resident of the orchard, matching its numerous apples to perfection. Minerva had insisted that they spend some time together, alone. The boy wanted it, she had said. She had not understood why Albus was so reluctant to comply. She was already making an effort, entrusting him with Severus, and had not taken his hesitation well at all.

Albus supposed she had thought he did not want to spend time with the boy, just as she must have felt he was unwilling to go against her wishes. But the truth was, he was merely scared. They were alone – he was the only one in charge. And his charge was young, and fragile, and he had hurt him before; yes, something as simple as apple picking could bear a heavy emotional weight.

Gently, Albus pulled Severus up and put him on the nearest stool. The boy clapped his hand in delight. He summoned several baskets that landed at their feet, and the harvest began.

Severus loved every second of it. He had an eye and instinctively went for the perfectly ripe apples, leaving alone those that would only need a day more to reach their full potential; he giggled when Albus knocked down an entire basket and immediately proposed to pick the apples up, fully aware that his guardian’s back would be thankful to be left to rest, and that for some reason, this activity should be carried from start to finish without magic. Then he stated that the branch they had been working on offered no more suitable apples, and he pointed to the one above; nodding approvingly, Albus made him come off the stool and went to fetch a special stick that was used to bend the higher branches.

But at the same moment a loud, watery noise echoed through the castle grounds, surprising them both. Albus heard a gasp, he turned back in Severus' direction: the boy was on top of the branch they had meant to tackle.

He froze. He did not say a word. He could not comprehend what had just happened, how the boy could have been standing on the grass one second and be in the tree the next. The words he had meant to say – it’s alright, Severus, it is just the giant squid taking a dive – died in his throat. His wrinkled face was drained of all colour.

He barely had the time to reach for his wand when the boy, losing balance, abruptly fell to the ground.

He gasped and started running – as he ran, he felt his lungs drained of all oxygen. A howler rose from the collapsed form of the child on the ground, and he felt adrenaline rush through his veins, stronger than the shock, stronger even than the fear. He knelt next to Severus, out of breath.

The little boy was crying, though his sobs were irregular. They almost sounded like he was choking – his face, too, was ghostly white. Gently, Albus put him in a kneeling position, lowering him against his chest in a protective embrace.

“I’m here, Severus, I’m here, it’s alright – let me see – show me – does it hurt? Yes? Here?”

It was his wrist. It had to be sprained or broken, and he suspected the latter, for its angle was not quite right.

Watching the child’s pale face and his injured arm, Albus started to panic.

It was pure panic, one he had not felt in years, the kind that deprived one of all rational senses and skills: he kept nursing the child instead of casting a simple immobilising spell on his wrist to avoid further injury; he rocked them both back and forth compulsively. Still, using wandless magic, a leniens was cast on Severus’ injury, reducing the intensity of his pain. This was done without any conscious thought on the older man’s part.

Albus had brought down the two most powerful wizards of the century; he was the mastermind behind Voldemort’s downfall and the most gifted wizard of his generation. But a crying child – he didn’t know what to do with a crying child, especially a child that was crying because of his own carelessness. His heart could not bear it.

“It’s alright, Severus, it’s alright, don’t cry, it’s alright… It’s alright dear boy, I promise, it’s alright…”

And he started crying, and his whole body was trembling, blood was beating in his temples. He was blinded by the tears, but he didn’t take notice of them, taking the blurriness for granted or perhaps not registering it at all.

And he rocked the child back and forth, back and forth.

He did not really know what happened, or how long had passed, but the next moment, a tiny voice rose below him, brutally calling him back to the land of the cognizant. He looked down. Severus was watching him with a sort of gravity, his black eyes still wet but the pain on his face long gone.

“You… are not good at this”, he whispered with slight contempt, very much in the manner of his older self.

There was a pause, a long one.

Then at long last Albus burst out laughing, tears running still, cradling Severus. Laughter or sobs, he was not sure himself; but, when he could speak again, he simply murmured:

“You are right, Severus. I am very bad at this.”

-

Severus baked his first apple pie with an arm in a cast, and they called it the Pie of the Braves. They ate it as a celebration of his first magical outburst.

But that night, also, Albus collapsed into Minerva’s arms: and she discovered that for all his mightiness, Albus Dumbledore could be brought to his knees by the cries of a child.

[elvensorceress]

Sunday we have Sentences more than Seven of them?

tagged by @alyxmastershipper @shortsighted-owl @heartbeatdiaz @spotsandsocks @sibylsleaves @rogerzsteven @jobairdxx @rewritetheending @hippolotamus

tagging @lostinabuddiehaze  @eddiescowboy @fatedbuddie @spaceprincessem @megsvstheworld @tulipfromtheinternet @eddiesbleps @messyhairdiaz @astronaut-karenwilson  @ajunerose @buddierights @babytrapperdiaz @loveyourownsmiilee @ashavahishta @putijeansdiaz-ronordmann

okay so. have a little bit of undercover-as-a-married-couple poker date from my catching lightning fic. 

They don’t duck out immediately but Buck texts Bobby everything he picked up on about these people and their tricks and any secrets they might have let out while drinking and gambling. Eddie sits across from him in a secluded booth and watches the way the warm, dim lighting looks on his face. He sticks his tongue out in concentration the same way he does when he’s focusing hard on winning a game or breaking open a mangled door or rolling a hose. But flashes of excitement and thoughtfulness spark in his eyes, the curve of his mouth, the set of his jaw. 

Eddie wants to touch his lips to every part of Buck but especially his face. He’s so handsome, and Eddie knows so many people see it when they look at him. How could they not? There’s so much depth and light in his eyes. There’s so much joy in the world when he smiles. His cheeks are round and adorable when he’s flushed. The point of his nose and the solid cut of his chin just beg to be kissed. 

There’s never been a more perfect shade of blue than the one his eyes are made of. Eddie doesn’t know what it is about his pretty birthmark but it also needs soft touches and kisses and love showered all over it. His lips are perfect in every way, the shape, the color, the fullness, what has to be pillowy softness, perfect except for the fact that they’re not pressed to Eddie’s.

He’s beautiful. Everything about him. He’s beautiful and alive and it feels like a miracle. He makes Eddie want to believe in hope and happiness and maybe even the powers of the universe that listened and gave him back. 

They gave him back. He’s still here. And Eddie wants so badly to reach and touch and finally hold on. 

The longer he looks, the more he can’t bear to look away.

He’s alive. He’s beautiful and he’s alive, and Eddie can’t breathe with the weight of how much he loves him. 

Buck turns a little pink when he notices the blatant staring and ducks his head in that flirtatious, self-conscious, adorable way. “You’re staring.”

Eddie bites his lip and drinks until his glass is empty and he’s bathed in hazy, fuzzy warmth. It’s not real warmth, it never is. And it only feels hollow and fleeting. 

But sometimes it doesn’t matter what is fantasy and what is reality. Maybe it’s real in the moment, real while it’s happening. Reality is for when you wake. If you’ve captured a good dream, you stay and keep it until it’s ripped away. Why can’t the dream be true in the moment that it exists? Why can’t he have what he needs while they’re sitting here, still dreaming it? 

So, Eddie shrugs and wets his lips. “You’re my husband. What else am I supposed to stare at.”

There’s a clear bobbing in Buck’s throat as he swallows and blushes. “How many drinks have you had?”

“A few.” Not enough that he’s anywhere near drunk. Not enough that he’s even that tipsy. But enough that it can be an excuse. “I think we had an autumn wedding,” he says softly as he leans back against the cushioned booth and words drift like fog across the ground. “You love warm colors. Rust and burgundy, gold and honey, copper and pumpkin. I like cobalt. It’s a nice word. It’s a good color with the sunset. Complementary. Like you and me.”

Buck stares at him, frozen in the middle of whatever thought he had, whatever he was going to text. He’s stunned, uncertain, but he doesn’t say anything. 

[beidousfavwh0re]

SWEET FLOWERS TASTE SWEETER IN SPRING

Kazuha x reader

sypnosis: half a year has passed since your childhood friend left for a life of freedom. The life that inazuma couldn’t grant. Maybe it was also time for you to change.

It was autumn, the time maple leaves left their trees and drifted far away. It was also the time where the Vision Hunt Decree was installed and you had to hide the vision you used to do proudly carry. Autumn was in many ways the most beautiful season, but also the one that now hurt the most.

Kazuha watched as his best friend fell to the floor, the wound across his chest agape. Above him, was the Raiden Shogun herself, her sword stained crimson. The red was very much like the maple leaves that fell from the trees too early. Too young. The last thing Kazuha had to take was an electro vision that faded in colour quickly. He clutched it in his hands as he rushed away from the scene, feeling like the world was crumbling behind. There was one place he could go now. The only place he wanted to be.

You were resting against the maple tree that grew in your garden when all of a sudden, your childhood friend burst through the door. There were tears in his eyes and blood staining his clothes and his hands desperately clutched at an object. It was a vision. One grey and devoid of all light. You refrained from asking who it was and how, choosing to gently take his shaking body inside. Even the strongest of souls had to break sometimes.

Kazuha fell asleep, soon after lying down on the futon that you had placed on the floor. He still held the vision to his chest but he was now more peaceful looking despite the redness under his eyes. Whenever you moved away, he would start to reach out for you and say how he doesn’t want to be alone. You’d never seen him like this but you assumed from the desperation in his voice and the way he clutched the vision, it was his best friend. Tomo.

You had never really met Tomo but knew he was dear to Kazuha. You were often jealous of Tomo for his closeness with Kazuha but never would you imagine this. Quietly, you wrapped your arms around the sleeping man, rubbing his back in an effort to soothe him.

When you woke up, he had gone. Perhaps to wherever the wind would carry him. You noticed a letter on the counter with his same messy handwriting.

‘Dearest (name),

I will be leaving for the Crux as they will be returning to Inazuma in the morning. I promise that, even as seasons may pass, I will return here. Once the Vision Hunt Decree is lifted, wait for me at the maple tree.’

You were saddened but of course with all maple leaves, they fall from the tree at some point. And then they disappear with winter. You just hoped desperately that he would remember you in the months to come.

—

Winter was quick to arrive. You had almost been killed several times and were now under the protection of the Kamisato clan, but no matter where you were, you felt trapped. It was the curse of inazuma.

Despite the falling snow, there were no children outside throwing snowballs and building snowmen. There was no one enjoying the snowflakes and cold. It was consistently silent no matter what happened, even when your neighbour was dragged out, shoved to their knees

& beheaded.

It was quiet.

No such sound of crying or screaming ever escaped into the land of eternity.

That’s why you savoured your last meal and specialty, sweet flower and sesame chicken. The sweet flower was bitter in winter which ruined a large portion of the meal. However, it was filling enough for the journey to come. Without a sound, you then escaped into the night.

And into a boat heading for Liyue Harbour.

—

Liyue Harbour was by far the most beautiful place you had seen, which wasn’t difficult as you never left Inazuma. Many of the people there were friendly and welcoming, offering a place to stay when you had nowhere to call home. You had nothing over than your clothes and a sleeping bag, nothing to call your own.

That was until you found a building to rent, something you could turn into a florist. You had always loved flowers. Nature was the only thing that continued to change in the land of eternity, flowers being the best example. They were the best sign of life you could find.

Sweet flowers were the best. Something from home to remember but also all across the world. They were pretty to look at and they tasted amazing. That’s why you included them in many of the bouquets at your shop.

Behind your shop, there was a room you used as a living space. It was small but cosy with a kitchen, bed and a small room with a toilet and shower. Then, you also lived near your friend and local chef, Xiangling. Quite noticeably, her cooking was some of the best in Teyvat even with her unusual ingredients like slime condensate. Xiangling was also incredibly kind and offered a place to stay when you had nowhere.

After knowing her for a week, you asked about Kazuha and the Crux. They were last in the harbour a month prior and would likely come back soon. Xiangling saw little of Kazuha but said he seemed tired and almost full of regrets whenever she saw him.

The florist gained attraction quickly and it was a great source of income, nothing like Inazuma. You didn’t miss the place at all, only the memories you shared there with Kazuha. You hoped that maybe when the Crux arrived you would be able to secure a place aboard and travel with Kazuha. You missed him still.

But, spring was the time that life was created and of new beginnings.

Still, maybe Kazuha would come back.

—

It was May. The flower shop was doing well and business was booming like always. It was also quite loud outside with people swarming to get to what sounded like the docks.

The door opened suddenly and you looked up to see another customer holding what was a bouquet of sweet flowers. He seemed to want a vase but was surprised to see you. You greeted him and showed him to the section of vases.

“Say, do you know that sweet flowers-“

“That sweet flowers are sweeter in spring?”

“So you remember?”

“Of course I remember, (name).”

It was him.

His white hair with the red streak seemed so familiar and his soft voice sounded just like months ago. He was handsome and just so Kazuha.

“Kazuha.”

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, face closer to his than it’s ever been. His breath smelled of alcohol and fish, but it was also kind of sweet. He leaned towards your mouth as if asking for permission.

Then, it finally happened.

You finally were able to wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips against his tenderly. He closed his eyes reluctantly as if wanting to stare into them more.

In this empty flower shop, you were able to finally find company in him. He was now there to soothe the loneliness.

It may be true that sweet flowers are sweeter in summer, but nothing compared to the sweet of Kazuha’s lips.

send in requests <33