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morganski-19 · 1 year

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Conversation 1: Intervention

This takes place during chapter 1 of the main fic but can be read as a stand-alone. can also read on ao3.

Steve was upset. He didn’t know why or how, and sure he might have played it up more than he should have. But something about the easiness of the action stung. Robin was, still is despite what he said earlier, his best friend. He tells her everything, even things so mundane that they don’t matter. But they matter to him, and they should matter to her too.

He guesses that’s why he’s upset. Because him having a fondness for a certain movie meant a lot to him. People teasing him for not having a taste in music or movies wasn’t exactly always wrong. Steve never found himself gravitating toward a specific genre that he likes, always relying on the top forties or the newest popular release to dictate his taste. That was until he found his friends.

They introduced him to so many new things, stuff he would never have tried when it came to his reputation, where something as simple as personal taste can be ridiculed and teased beyond compare. Out of everyone, he should know, he took part in it. So, when he did like something, really like something, he kept it close to his heart. That way it would stay special to him and no one could take it away.

So when Robin revealed his love of Star Wars to the group, he couldn’t help but feel betrayed. He thinks that this was one of the first movies he saw when he was surrounded by people that actually cared about him. People that separated him from his reputation and saw who laid beneath the surface. People who didn’t care about what he did in the past, as long as he didn’t continue doing it in the future. People who wanted to share something they loved to see if he would love it too. And he did. This was the first movie that he’d seen where he found himself connecting to it. So much so that when Henderson decided that they needed a special handshake between the two of them, they incorporated lightsabers into it.

If anyone asked Steve, he only tolerated the movie and the part of the handshake because of the kid. But in reality, he loved the movie because of what it meant to him.

Robin didn’t know that. He decided to keep that part to himself. She didn’t need to know all of what he was thinking inside. It was his stuff he needed to deal with, not hers. She had gone through so much and had bigger problems to deal with than his weird connection to a movie. So Steve didn’t really share everything with Robin, only the things he was sure she wouldn’t judge him on or try to change like his old friends would. Some things were only meant for him.

He reasons that he does have a right to be upset, even if she didn’t know the reason why. So he does what he does best, hide what he is really feeling with an onslaught of strings of betrayals and silence. Because if Steve was good at anything, he was good at swallowing his feelings so they wouldn’t bother anyone else.

Except this time too many slipped through the cracks and now people were starting to be bothered by it. Robin was constantly begging for forgiveness, which if she just gave him space he would grant on his own time, while Eddie and Nancy got so concerned that they were coming over to stage an intervention.

Steve’s never had people care about him this much. Most of the time when he was upset, someone would tell him to grow up and be a man. Because apparently men weren’t supposed to feel anything. Now, people actually cared what he was feeling, checking up on him when he was feeling down and making sure he was taking care of himself. It left Steve not knowing what to do about it.

The bell above the door rings. Steve lifts his head from where it was starting at the slinky he was fiddling with to see Jonathan entering with Argyle already munching on a bag of popcorn. Steve and Jonathan share a nod hello. “Remember what I said about the popcorn,” Steve directs to Argyle.

“A promise is a promise dude. No touching the movies while I eat the popcorn,” Argyle says while stuffing his mouth with kernels.

“Look at that,” Steve says loud enough for Robin to hear. “Someone who knows how to keep promises.”

Robin groans from where she is reshelving movies, turning to glare at him. “You never made me promise not to tell anyone.”

“Maybe because I thought my best friend would understand that something private should be kept private,” He mutters under his breath.

“HA,” Robin yells. “Mumbling under your breath is still a response. You’re talking to me again.” He responds by clamping his mouth shut. “You cannot keep ignoring me forever.”

Steve turns back to Jonathan, who is reacting to this whole interaction with a confused look. “You can chill wherever, man, they’ll probably be here soon.”

“You are really taking this whole thing seriously, aren’t you?”

“I have my reasons,” Steve shrugged. Jonathan nods, still confused, before walking with Argyle to a row of movies.

Not long later, Steve sees Nancy’s car pull up. She sits in it, looking over a notebook, scribbling something down every so often. He hears Eddie’s van pull up a few minutes later, loudly screeching to a stop and heavy metal music blasting through the speakers. Nancy perks up at the noise and gets out of the car, waiting for him at the door.

Eddie meets up with her and she shows him the book she was writing in, going over talking points and strategies to get the two to make up, he assumes. Eddie is nodding along, pointing things out as she goes along, fixing their list. They nod in agreement and go to enter,

This fails however as in an attempt to be dramatic, Eddie goes to kick the door open and ends up falling backward as the door opens out not in. Steve can’t help but chuckle, adding something about him having to clean up the footprint that it left on the door to the chat Jonathan was updating, only for Eddie to promise to clean it up himself. Not without tagging a sweetheart onto the end, making Steve flush. Robin notices and gives him a curious look, but gets interrupted by Nancy pulling her to the center of the store, Eddie coming around the counter to do the same to Steve.

Nancy walks to the door and turns the open sign to closed before rejoining the group, confiscating their phones. “We just want to start off by saying that this is a safe space and no one will judge you for your feelings.”

“We’re just concerned that this fight may leave irreparable damage to your relationship,” Eddie adds. “So, who wants to start.”

All eyes turn to Steve, who is avoiding the eye contact and clenching his jaw. “Fine, I guess I will start,” Robin pipes up. “I don’t exactly know why this is such a big deal to you. We talk about movies all of the time and you’ve never once said to me that you didn’t want anyone else to know. You even have that weird handshake thing with Henderson that has a literal lightsaber fight in it. I thought you liking Star Wars was common knowledge so I don’t know why me bringing it up was such a big deal.”

“Ok, thanks for sharing, Robin. Do you have anything to add, Steve?” Nancy prods, making small notes in her book.

Steve takes a deep breath. “It’s just I tell you a lot of things about myself, and sometimes I don’t always want other people knowing about it. So when you told the group so easily, I guess it made me think that you could tell them all the other shit you know about me.”

“I would never tell the group something you didn’t want to share. But why would you liking a movie be something so secret?” She asks confused.

“I’m also confused as to why it’s so important,” Eddie says. “I mean, it’s just a movie, a popular one at that. No one would think lesser of you for liking it.”

The stares are starting to feel claustrophobic. Steve crosses his arms and shuts his eyes, ignoring the way he feels. He hates opening up to people, it makes him feel vulnerable, feel weak. Steve is not supposed to be the weak one.

Nancy lays a hand on his arm. “Hey, we’re not going to judge you for how you feel. We can ease up to it. Why don’t you start by talking about why you’ve been giving Robin the silent treatment.”

“Sometimes when I get upset, I get so worked up I say things I don’t mean. So I stay silent until I know I won’t hurt the other person,” Steve says quietly. “And it’s also to protect me. Arguments happen, sure, but when something cuts too deep, those arguments tend to not go too well for me and I end up losing people. I didn’t want the way I felt about something to be the reason that I lost you.”

“Steve,” Robin she says softly, taking a step closer to him. “You’d never lose me over the way you felt about something. You just have to tell me about it, not keep it all bottled up.”

Nancy removes her hand from his arm and jots more notes in her book, looking for another question to ask. Eddie peers over her shoulder and points to one. “Robin, if Steve had told you that he didn’t want you to share that he liked the movie, would you have kept it to yourself?”

“Yes, of course I would. I’ve never told anyone something Steve wanted to keep secret.” Robin fiddles with the buttons on her vest.

“Ok, Steve, why didn’t you tell Robin that you wanted to keep it a secret?” Eddie asks him.

He bites the inside of his cheek. “I guess I just thought that she would know. We talk about a lot of things and most of the time I don’t tell her that I want to keep something between us, she just knows.”

“But it’s a movie, not something serious-”

“But maybe it is serious to me,” Steve cuts her off, speaking harsher than he intended. “I’ve been made fun of for the things I like for my entire life, you guys included. Sure, I know it’s all in good fun, but sometimes it just cuts a bit deeper. Before I met you guys I was just following a crowd, agreeing with the group on what I liked, and not having a real opinion. This was the first movie I ever watched where I actually liked it, actually had an opinion over my life. I didn’t want that to get taken away from me because I knew the second I say something that’s when the teasing starts. Because everyone always thinks it’s a good idea to tease Steve, the guy who has shit tastes when it doesn’t even cross your mind that I might actually like it. That I have my own opinions and just because they don’t align with yours doesn’t mean that they're wrong.”

The room is quiet, even Argyle taking a break from shoving popcorn into his mouth. Steve was crying now from a mix of anger and embarrassment. “Holy shit, that is not where I thought this was going,” Eddie whispers to Nancy, who is frantically trying to find what to say next.

“Steve,” Robin starts. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“Yeah, well you don’t know a lot of things about me.” He wipes a tear off his chin.

Robin takes his chin and makes his eyes meet hers. He sees that she’s crying too. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

Steve shrugs. “It’s not something you needed to worry about.”

“Steve, it’s your feelings. That’s something I always will worry about. Because I am your friend. Friends care about other friends’ feelings, no matter what.”

More tears start to well up in Steve’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I should have told you about how I was feeling.”

“No, I’m sorry. I should stop making fun of you about what you like so much. I never knew it meant so much to you.”

They continue to apologize to each other through their sobs, Robin attacking Steve in a hug. “Do you understand what they are saying?” Eddie whispers to Nancy, who shakes her head in response.

Eventually, the two calm down, pulling apart from each other and wiping off their tears. “Ok,” Nancy starts, a bit confused. “So thank you both for sharing your feelings, Steve especially. How about in the future, you,” directed at Robin, “double check with Steve to see that he’s ok with you sharing something and you,” directed at Steve, “share your feelings with Robin more often. She cares about you, I doubt she’ll judge you on what you like.”

“Also, I’ll get the rugrats to tease you less if you want,” Eddie suggests.

Steve and Robin agree to the terms, Eddie and Nancy share a handshake of good work. Robin alerts the group of their make up and announces her apology to the rest of them as well.

Sometimes Steve thinks that he doesn’t deserve having friends like this. Friends that will drop everything that they’re doing to make sure that he’s ok. Ask him how he’s feeling and make sure that they understand where he’s coming from. Friends that will apologize and grow with him, and not expect him to be the only one to grow. More importantly, not expect him to be the same as he always was.

This is the first time he’s ever had that, he thinks. All of his other friends only liked him for his reputation, his money, what he could do for them. These guys, they liked him for him, nothing else. They cared for Steve and wanted to make sure he knew about it. So, maybe he didn’t have to be so afraid to let them know who he was on the inside. Because him sharing a bit more about himself than he had in the past wouldn’t make them like him any less. No, it would only make them love him more.

#steve harrington #steve harrington needs a hug #ngl this was me projecting a bit #i seem to keep doing that #robin buckley #eddie munson #steddie #mentioned #jonathan byers #argyle #intervention #fanfic #stranger things fanfic #steddie fanfic #steve harrington fanfic

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peace-coast-island · 3 months

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Diary of a Junebug

Striving for the mundane and ordinary and enjoying every moment of it

Fate is fickle - I hear that a lot from certain people. It amazes me how fate works, how it can easily bind you to certain doom, or set you free to soar the skies of endless possibilities. Cold and impartial, yet forgiving and merciful at times.

Only a handful are able to just barely escape what should’ve been a doomed fate, and they know better not to question it too much unless they want to drive themselves up a wall over such trivial matters. If fate hands you a reprieve, take it without question - you’ll be a lot happier and unburdened that way.

As for how to do that, it’s entirely up to you. Some might continue going on grand adventures, seeking out even more answers in an attempt to sate their never ending curiosity or dissatisfaction. Other might choose to lay low and settle into a routine, putting the old days behind them for good. And most fall somewhere in between, seeking the thrill of adventuring in the unknown while taking breaks every now and then to appreciate the slow and mundane moments of life that they once took for granted.

Yes, this has to do with the present company visiting the camp and joining us on the hunt for crafting materials. In this case, it’s teatime gyroids, which are perfect for making tea sets. Makoto, Qingmei, and Dainn stopped by on their way back from Vulture Point where they were working with the Olive Rose Philharmonic Orchestra. Qingmei - who’s the social media savvy one out of the three - has been teasing snippets on social media about recording with them, which sounds exciting.

Raiden was there too, but she had other matters to attend to so she went the opposite direction. Connie was the one who called her over suddenly, leaving us to wonder what’s going on. Giving the timing with the final preparations for Sazona quickly approaching, I hope it’s not a repeat of what happened with Adrikha when Connie had to deal with some legal mess that prevented them from proceeding. That doesn’t seem like the case though - at least that’s what Qingmei believes. Whatever’s going on, I hope they resolve it quickly and smoothly.

As for the thing with the Olive Rose Philharmonic, that’s been going well. Makoto’s worked with them in the past and now he’s bringing Raiden, Qingmei, and Dainn into the fold. Thanks to Makoto, the other three have been really into the songwriting thing. The latter two especially, probably because they never had the luxury of getting into a creative hobby back then, nor did they expect to venture into something like that.

It’s funny to think that after spending centuries fighting for their lives against a seemingly doomed fate, now they’re just chilling out and writing music. I mean, it makes sense as music’s a form of artistic expression. Considering that Qingmei and Dainn were brought up in a way that they were never really allowed to express themselves, I can imagine how freeing it is for them to finally find an outlet that lets them be vulnerable as well as come to terms with the shit they’ve had to put up with throughout their lives.

As someone who also tends to keep things to themselves, I also find it freeing to let my thoughts out in some way, preferably through art and journaling. It’s not good to keep everything bottled up, especially when all it’s gonna do is make you suffer through the silence. Sure, there are times when you just have to grit your teeth and move on, but it’s not healthy to be in that state all the time. No one can keep on carrying a heavy load of baggage indefinitely - dead weight is dead weight, after all. If you can’t let go of things that only serve to hold you back, how do you expect to move forward and grow?

I remember Connie saying asking if it was wrong to be envious of Raiden for being so carefree. I didn’t know how to answer that, so I asked them how would they live their life after they complete their journey. Their response is to simply move on to the next journey, whatever that will be, because they have a responsibility to uphold. In other words, to simply be able to retire and live a quiet and unassuming life will never be an option for them. Either they keep going, or they die for a greater cause - that’s just a matter of fact.

I know there’s a lot more to Connie than meets the eye, so I don’t expect to fully understand their views, or even what’s their true purpose for this journey other than uncovering long buried truths to maintain peace and stability. There are reasons why they have considerable sway in some circles despite being an outsider, reasons that are better accepted without looking too much into it. Jamie once described them as a disruptor, which I think is accurate, and given their interventions, their presence was very much needed to bring about lasting change. So someone like Connie is very much tied to fate, and so they will oblige to do whatever it takes to maintain the order of this world.

Such a heavy burden to carry, but they’ve proven that they’re up to the task down to the bitter end. I don’t think I can live like that - then again, the mind of an immortal’s built far differently compared to us mortals. They need to have some sort of resilience to deal with the passage of time, though everyone’s different because of life circumstances and whatever. Someone who’s of a long lives species - like Raiden and Connie - will obviously see things differently compared to those who were originally mortal then turned immortal - Pai, Qingmei, and Dainn.

Instead of moving on, Raiden decided to stick around, mainly because she became attached to Qingmei and Lian and the rest of the Dānchún Lǔmǎng. Before falling out with her brother, they had traveled around various worlds because they could. She said he was the restless type who always seemed to want more out of life, and that was one of the few things they could never see eye to eye with.

Maybe it was his dissatisfaction that eventually led to him losing his way, becoming jaded after experiencing various misfortunes where he was completely helpless. That led him to come to the conclusion that in order to rid the world of misfortune was to wipe the slate clean, essentially. Such an extreme way of viewing things, but there are some points to his logic, though not every sound points in my opinion. Like, I get the whole bad apple spoiling the bunch, but he simply took that way too far. To be pushed into viewing the world like that, he truly went through a lot, so despite the awful things he did, those close to him could never truly hate him.

Aside from Raiden, Dainn also has a lot of complicated feelings with him as he wasn’t just a travel companion, but also a romantic/sexual partner. Their relationship was tumultuous, to put it simply. A perfect example of a warped view on love in the sense that they keep hurting and forgiving each other, unable to let go or work things out. From what it sounds like, Raiden’s brother was the kind to send mixed messages

Not surprisingly, their stormy relationship has been alluded to in various songs like Mindreader, Promises, By Your Side, and most recently, When the Night Wore On. It’s actually become somewhat of an inside joke, which isn’t too unusual since a lot of people write about complicated exes.

Still, I can’t help but wonder how Raiden feels about it. Like, how awkward is it having someone write about their ex - who happens to be your own sibling - and how they fucked you in more ways than one? I guess it’s not that bug of a deal since they have poked fun at it as in being like “Welp lol we write about our trauma and added music to it so now it’s a banger”, or sorry about going on and on about this ex…anyway.. cue dramatic music” kind of thing.

Maybe it helps that they share a similar sense of humor, so it’s like they have shit that they’ll never get over, but they’re also able to look at it in sort of a “haha, well that was fucked up wasn’t it?..anyway, moving on…” sort of way, which is honestly similar to how I would react. Just do what you need to do to get it out of your system and then walk away without overthinking it, that’s really the best way to move forward, at least for most situations. No need to dwell on what’s already done.

That being said, I think Raiden, Qingmei, and Dainn are all doing fairly well after all the shit they’ve been through over the past few centuries fighting against fate and all that. Of course, some days are harder than others, but they’re more than content living mundane and ordinary lives with the occasional thrill of adventure in between. Though I imagine it’s a huge jump from worrying about whether tomorrow will come to having to think about what to have for dinner or some other boring routine stuff like that. Still, probably a welcome change compared to literally fighting for your life.

So music’s turning out to be their thing and it’s been surprisingly therapeutic for them. Raiden’s got some background in classical music while Qingmei and Dainn are more self taught. And of course, Makoto’s got an extensive background on that, so it makes sense he wound up falling into the producer role.

Qingmei, at this point, I would say is at an intermediate skill level on the piano, which is her preferred instrument. Meanwhile Dainn has made a lot of progress on learning the cello thanks to Makoto’s teaching. Like, I would find it hard to believe that he’s been playing for less than a year and had absolutely no musical knowledge prior to that. That just goes to show that if you’re eager and willing to put in the work to practice diligently, you will see results. I really should take a page out of his book when it comes to hobbies I want to get better at but have trouble finding the motivation to do so.

Their latest song When the Night Wore On really highlights everyone’s strengths, so it’s no surprise that people are super hyped for the Olive Rose Philharmonic version. It’s the kind of song that’s already pretty damn good, so a recorded version with an orchestra will elevate it even more, especially with that dramatic bridge and the emotion behind the lyrics.

The song’s basically about someone who’s been put on pedestal by various people in their lives and how they have to maintain that image to avoid letting everyone down. Then at the bridge, they finally get fed up and lament about how they’re only human, not some infallible being, which then results in them being alone because the others can’t accept that. No doubt that this stems from personal experience, specifically Dainn’s since he wrote 90% of the lyrics.

For me, the highlight of the song is obviously the bridge, especially the line “I’m not some fucking savior” because that just hits so hard. Like, go off, get that anger out sort of thing. Despite it being a super personal song that has his name written all over it, Dainn actually expected Raiden, Qingmei, or Makoto to sing it since they’re far more experienced.

Of course, they were like “Nuh-uh, those are your words, your thoughts, your emotions, so you should be the one singing.” And they were right. He was initially unsure since he felt that out of the four, he was the weakest when it came to vocals, though it’s more because of the lack of musical background, especially compared to those who are classically trained like Raiden and Makoto.

Basically, he can hold a tune better than most, he just need to work more on technical skill, which obviously takes time and practice. Since the song’s about a flawed human being, it makes sense for the vocals to be “imperfect” with things like a slightly shaky vibrato that manages to hit the notes and the near shouting and voice breaking on the bridge - it’s those little things that really make a song come to life. In fact, I think that’s the most emotion I’ve ever seen come from him, and it was all real, which I think is beautiful.

It’s not easy to open yourself up like that, and he certainly didn’t expect for things to turn out like that. He was actually surprised and a bit embarrassed at how well received When the Night Wore On was, which is understandable. In fact, Dainn’s super nervous about performing the song with the orchestra since the original recording really took a lot out of him. Then there’s also the issue of him likely being overpowered by the orchestra during the climax, which Raiden and Makoto are working on addressing.

They’ve got plenty of time for that, so for now they’re just taking the time to chill out and just live life. It was Qingmei’s idea to stop by the camp since it’s a long trip back. What better way to pass the time than to go searching for gyroids and making cute tea sets with them?

I live for these moments when I can slow down and enjoy the stillness. Maybe that’s why a lot of friends like to stop by the camp to take some time off their busy lives to do the same.

Read on AO3

#animal crossing pocket camp #animal crossing #diary of a junebug #headcanon ramble

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lovely-necromancy · 2 years

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The Moon and The Stars Ch.1

Not enough Moon Knight fanfic out here especially anything domestic so I wrote one.

Relationship: Marc Spector/Reader, Steven Grant/Reader, Jake Lockley/Reader

Summary: It's funny to think that people are so quick to dismiss the existence of magic and witchcraft despite proof of literal gods having been on Earth and fighting in favor of it before.

Didn't matter that the surviving Asgardians were sheltered on a small coast near New Zealand, didn't even matter that aliens existed. No, the thought that magic was actually real was just too far fetched. Your cards no more than a mere party trick. It was hard not to roll your eyes at the ideal – had magic not been real you wouldn't be here right now. Across the pond all the way in London, chasing down a not yet friendly face to help you locate your misplaced son, who has come from some time in the future, only having less than basic and more than cryptic information sent to you from your future self leaving you to relay a little too heavily on the cards to guide you through this predicament.

Love strikes when you least expect it, really it hits when you’re distracted. Now you’re juggling building a home with a man you’ve just met and a son you’ve yet to have.

Sitting on the bus in the early hours of the morning wasn't something you'd experienced for nearly a decade sense moving from your home town right after graduation. Moving to Manhattan everything had been so close together you pretty much walked to where you needed to go, only ever riding the bus or using the metro when you'd gone out grocery shopping or out with friends. But nothing this early, or this long. Though that isn't really saying much because you don't have a life outside of work given you're still trying to regroup after the snap. Loosing five years hadn't been fun, coming back to a world in more turmoil than when you'd left even less so.

Many had at least come home to familiar faces, but you had ended up loosing more than you saw. Closing your eyes you focus on the loud hum of the motor as the bus speeds through the street. This last minute trip had gotten your nerves fried as it was, no need to upset yourself further by thinking of the colossal shit show that happened on Titan and the subsequent bullshit that followed. All the pain and mourning – all the despair and fear; you breathe out through your mouth cutting off any further thought. You had so many thoughts and feelings about this, and no matter how many times you processed them they were still loud and aggressive. Today was not the day to deal with it though.

As a distraction you look on out at the unfamiliar scenery speeding by, you try to relax and focus on the present situation.

Currently you are on a bus in London, having just gotten on at the airport you still have your carry on pack with you. It was all you took, you needed to travel light for this excursion. Maybe you packed too light now that you thought on it; only two outfits, your chargers, tarot deck, and a few things for a make shift altar. There wasn't any indication on how long you'd be staying but you figured by the end of the week at latest you'd be back home.

Taking out the deck from your bag you remain hyper vigilant of the road even with the sparse traffic. A habit you never broke out of growing up.

While keeping your eyes on the street you began to shuffle your deck. It was an idle stim developed from years of repetition – if the cards had something to say they'd find a way to let you know. And it's something you were counting on as the sun rose above the skyline and more and more passengers got on the bus and on about their mundane days.

It's funny to think that people are so quick to dismiss the existence of magic and witchcraft despite proof of literal gods having been on Earth and fighting in favor of it before. Hell, New York has specific signs in case of Thor damage, even though the ex-avenger isn't Earth bound anymore many stayed up as a reminder in case he ever sought to visit.

Passengers cycle through as the drive continues, no one ever paying you any mind as you shuffle the deck of cards in your hands. Not even the bus driver who remembers you getting on at their earliest stop but can't place if you'd gotten off yet.

Still you wait.

And it'll be a few more stops before anticipation starts to itch under your skin, your stomach is in knots and you're ready to jump off at the next stop.

The Magician jumps from the deck.

Looks like the next stop is yours. Sure you're willing to admit you may have influenced the cards on that one with your restless energy but anything to get out in the open and stretch your legs again.

Stepping from the bustling sidewalk and backing yourself into an alley you look around at everything near you trying to get your intuition to guide you. A heavy worn sigh leaves you as nothing in particular seems to spark the urge to follow after. You've followed the clues well enough so far but they weren't the greatest to begin with it took a whole hour to decipher you needed to be in London. Unsure if the distorted information was a drawback of time line details or your own future hubris, you pack the cards away and switch out some cash to pick up lunch.

The only thing calling out is the sandwich cart by the fountain and your stomach is answering that call.

At least one thing was in your favor, the cart had a veggie humus wrap that was to die for. If you did end up staying longer than a day you'd have to remember to come back to the stand. Maybe you should get another for later, the vegetables seemed really fresh and it was delicious. It'd make a good offering for later, you didn't really bring a peace offering and hadn't had much chance to look anything up online. Pairing it with a nice wine might be a smart move, wine was normally pretty well received from what you gathered. Hopefully it would suffice, you really are just flying by the seat of your pants here.

The stand attendant gives you a look once you find yourself back at his counter. Ordering another veggie wrap you ask, “Hey, I'm actually visiting a friend in town, it's a little short notice so I wanted to get her an apology wine. Is there anywhere near by?”

Rolling his eyes as he wraps up your order he makes a few gestures along with an odd remark that you somewhat gleam are directions to just go up the street. It's about one and you're moderately sure a slight deviation won't hurt, after all if time was really of the essence you'd think you'd five more concrete locations and descriptions.

Not send yourself to London in hopes of finding a woman, at least you hope she's currently an adult and not a child, named Layla with “Hair so beautiful you'd never miss her.” Those were your exact words. Apparently that's all the clues you thought you'd need to locate the biggest ally in finding the missing time jumper. Christ future you is such an asshole.

A small hopeful thought rises in the back of your head, 'Layla will find you, she's a fellow witch. She must've gotten her own message.'

It's with a big inhale you enter the wine shop, which is an awful move considering the stinging smell of the fermented juice crowding the store. Especially the overly sweet smelling assortment of varying colors greeting you on the display table as you walk by.

You don't know much about wine but you know that a floral wine feels about right. It's amazing that intuition can aid you in picking out a wine but not in finding another witch. You do your best to keep the sour look off your face as you distinguish between the two best options in front of you – bitter about your lack of skills in your craft.

A sales woman takes pity on your stumped expression, reading it as frustration over wine choices.

“Looking for yourself or a get together dear?”

A glance at the woman, “For a friend, a new one – not sure which she'd like more.”

She gives a nod, “Well which ones are we looking at? Might be ones we sample.”

“I don't,” you brush off her offer, “But I think it's between the lavender and the honey wine. I was leaning more towards a red though.” You say as your eyes dart between the two, an itch in the deepest part of your chest saying it's one of the two.

“Oh sorry dear, neither of those two are red wines. The lavender's more a blush – and actually that honey one's a mead. In the wrong spot too if you don't mind.” the older woman excuses herself as she reaches past you to pick up the bottle and reveal a willow white wine underneath. Whatever the hell that is.

“Yea, mead would be too thick then. I'll take the lavender thanks.” you nod to her and she follows you to check out. Weird to not get carded but nice to avoid the 'oh you were snapped' conversation.

After securely nestling the bottle into your pack you were back on the hunt. London isn't the biggest city out there but traveling on foot and bus alone really makes things tedious.

Then there's the chance she's a home body who you won't run into on the street. Or what if she's already out of the country?

There's an uneven half wall along the sidewalk, you take a seat as you ground yourself freeing your mind of the negative thoughts. With a hum you take off your necklace, a simple charm you got off a candle a couple months back hung on a cheap chain. It made a quick pendulum after your last four crystal ones fucked off into the void, no matter where you'd set them down they always went missing. But this celestial charm on a janky piece of chain never got lost. A crescent moon facing a sun all held within a four point star.

Like always passers by didn't spare a glance to you – like they didn't see you. Which they probably couldn't given the shield you set up around yourself. While normally you tried not blocking people out you couldn't risk drawing too much attention to your intentions with a time traveler on the loose.

Steadying your breathing you begin interrogation the pendant.

'Show me yes.' with the thought the charm began moving in a straight line back and forth.

'Now no.' And the charm slowly began to move in circles.

Asking once more for 'yes' resulted in the same straight line movement as before, now you started asking the real questions.

'Is Layla in London?' a straight line.

'Can you point me in the direction of Layla?' another straight line.

There's always some doubt in you when it comes to this method since you're still very new to this form of divination. Tossing in a question you know the answer to in order to get a 'no' response helps ease your nerves.

'Am I a Mets fan?' a stupid question considering you hold no baseball loyalties but it does work in getting a circle as a response.

The pit in your stomach fills with the reassurance that you're still on the right track. But you still can't shake the anxiety that's nawing away in anticipation for the next.

'Will you lead me to Layla?' a harsh swinging of back and forth starts before you've fully finished the question.

Taking that as the resounding yes that it was you hop off the wall and ask your pendant to guide you through the city.

Chain secured around your neck and the charm floated up allowing you to follow where it pointed. You would have looked absolutely mental if you'd been allowing anyone to actually see you. But as it was your force fields were staying up until you deemed it safe, or needed to interact with someone. Normally you'd never worry or even bother with this sort of thing. With the rise of enhanced individuals in the world and the need for “heroes” governments and other sanctions are swooping in and “recruiting” anyone they find left and right. And after what happened on Titan it's safe to say no one needs uncontrolled access to time travel.

Which is why you're paranoid enough to hoist a barrier around your self. The last thing you want is to slip up and have someone find out about a loose time traveler and set their eyes on such a hot ticket commodity. You'll be damned before you knowingly let someone with that power get exploited, much less your own son. You just really need to send him back to his own timeline where it's safer for him....hopefully.

It's been a few hours and it seems as though your necklace is leading you in circles – at one point literally swinging in circles around your neck. That or Layla has gotten lost on her way to her destination a few times. She's been on the move since you started tracking her, it's a wonder how she's moving so quickly, a bike maybe? When the necklace finally stops moving and is stationary long enough for you to follow it in one solid direction, it's lef you to an art gallery. Your interest is piqued and had this been any other time you'd have enjoyed taking a tour through the museum. As it stood now you need to find a lost child, and to do that you had to find a woman with curly hair called Layla.

What on Earth has your life come to?

The attendant manning the tickey booth did warn you, the museum would close in about an hour and that that had no effect on the price of admission, before you bought your ticket. You deal with the general public enough to understand they are covering their ass and not just being nice to a tourist by giving you the warning.

“No worries, meeting a friend here anyhow.” you say handing a few bills over.

The attendant brushes it off with a simple 'ah' erasing you from their mind after bidding you a pleasant visit.

Settling inside the galley you see it's an odd set up for an art museum as it seems loans of actual Egyptian artifacts were made, hell some of these looked to be fall on exhibit collections. You could argue relics were the modern art at one point but a full on sarcophagus was where you drew the line on art. Either things in England are done much differently than in the states or whoever was in charge of this really dropped the ball on what they got loaned to the art museum.

With only an hour before close and a now stationary pendant, it had stopped floating just as you set foot onto the stairs, you decide to stakeout the entrance and wait for people to start leaving. Given the way she ran about town you highly doubt the woman works for the museum and by the slack security team you passed on your way in you don't think she's their overeager night shift guard. If this place even has one of those.

What better place to stake out in than the gift shop. Centrally located with big windows that peer out over most of the entrance hall, the position is perfect. Fiddling with an oracle coin to calm your nerves as you watch a few families enter and meander about the gift shop before concluding their day out. Watching the doors like a hawk, or at least you'd been trying to had the hippo plush on the shelf a little ways away from you not been distracting you. It's like it was trying to say something but you just heard a static ringing, making it hard to concentrate on anything besides the adorably sewn faces staring at you.

It was a little odd that of several other dolls that you'd seen with similar expressions it was only the hippo who kept stealing your attention. Soon the static started to go through a range of frequencies and it was like whispered murmurs of 'Layla' were buzzing through your ears. Maybe Layla was supposed to show up and purchase one of these and you simply had to wait for that. Either that or the doll was simply called Layla and you'd been following around a shipment of these without even noticing.

Yea totally normal and mundane answers – not at all possible that this has now turned into an Annabelle situation where Layla's soul was attached to one of these and you'd then have to carry around a possessed doll in order to find a child and look absolutely mad talking to a doll for the entirety.

Your min runs wild with all these possibilities sometimes and one of these days you are going to manifest some weird fucking shit into your life, not like this situation isn't out there though. You really hope this doll is just called Layla, at the very least. Walking closer to the display you search for some plaque or tag, any identifier for the toy – just something that will give you any clue to the strange connection you feel for this hippo. There doesn't seem to be one, which seems an odd choice but given the extended gee of capitalism, you're willing to be it has more to do with trapping unsuspecting parents into the sale when they've already promised their children the toy and can't back out after hearing the price lest there is a massive tantrum over it.

Just as you were going to roll your eyes, a voice startles you so hard that you're sure your soul nearly detached from your body.

“Uh, sorry didn't mean to startle you, yea? ….Just it – saw you were looking at Taweret pretty hard. D'you need any help with getting one down?”

Hand pressed firmly against your chest to calm your embarrassingly erratic heart rate you felt a warmth encase your cheeks as you met the warmest brown eyes to ever belong to a human. This man looked like the pure personification of a shy puppy. It was so clear he really hadn't meant to scare you, his hunched posture and head down said it all – the stance and expression was identical to a kicked puppy.

When you finally settle enough to speak you manager a weak, “Yeah?” and though it sounded muffled and more like a question than a statement the man didn't mind.

The curly haired man simply reaches past you, plucking one off the shelf and holding it out for you. It's strange that he'd offered assistance for something well within your reach but when you notice his name tag pinned to his jacket you figure he's just doing his job. Or trying to make up for the scare he gave you, which was more on you for being so caught up in your thoughts to not have clocked him coming up behind you like that.

I appreciate it, Steven.” you smile taking the offered plush and now it's Steven's turn to look embarrassed, clearly not used to such genuine thanks.

“No trouble really, after all it's my job.” he says about as awkwardly as a human can manage the whole time fumbling with his hands trying to find a suitable placement for them.

In doing so you're able to catch a glimpse of his wrist watch, you still have over half an hour to go, and you feel that staying in the gift shop is the right call to finding Layla. But now it feels like you might need more of a reason to stay. Looking down at the plush in your hands you ask.

“Do...do you happen to know anything about Taweret? Making small talk was never your strongest suit but maybe you can stall long enough that you'd see someone striking leave the museum.

Looking back at Steven it seems you chose the tpic correctly because of the distinct glimmer shinning in his eye – the one people get when they're talking about things they love, well at least you'll enjoy this next half hour. It'll be refreshing to talk to someone who filled with passion and not just a civil response of patterned answers. Back home you tend to hype up the kids too much, so you'll have to try and reign in your energy for the upcoming info dump you know you're about to receive. Figures an Egyptology nerd would be working here, wonder ig he had anything to do with the exhibits on display or if it was simply luck that they found their way here. Maybe a bit of both judging by how decked out this gift shop was with its Egyptian themes. Hell, even little jelly candies sat on the counter displaying themselves proudly. Well you can't really fault the man for following his happiness.

“Yes! I mean yea, a bit – well a lot. Ah, where should start, to be honest it'd be easier to say – wait how much d'you know about the Egyptian gods?” his enthusiasm has you grinning and you can feel the control you had on your hype man energy waning.

Steven's eyes briefly flicker up behind you, he makes eye contact with his reflection giving it a sort of disgruntled pout before shaking his head and focusing on you when you start speaking.

“I've gotten a brief run down from the Kane Chronicles, then there's Egyptology: Search for the Tomb of Osiris. That's always a hit with the kids and I love recommending the 'ology' series to them, they're classic starters you know? Aside from that my study of Egyptian gods is lacking, was more of the Greek Mythos kid myself.” you joke, giving a little sway of your head with the last bit.

“So you're a librarian.” he said it with such enthusiasm that you felt bad shutting it down.

Brown eyes lock above your pout face once more, Steven gives a little gesture as if to say 'see?'.

“Uh, oh not exactly. Just a clerk but my specialties ate the children's events and getting the youths more involved with reading, as dying of a pass time as it is.”

Unlike most, Steven doesn't give you eyes full of pity or disinterest when you tell him your actual position, instead he keeps the same enthusiasm as when he called you a librarian.

“Honestly, same thing. Keeping communities involved and books circulating sounds like a librarian's task.” it's such a sweet sentiment and one you hadn't thought of. It wasn't often that the paywall standing in front of the title got to you. But occasionally you did think on how it was such bullshit that it was now needed a Bachelor's of Science to keep inventory of books and their condition. When it was technically everyone's job to do so.

You're fairly certain Ms. Patrice hadn't even had a degree. The old woman had just been grandfathered into the position after that requirement got implemented. And she never cared for it when hiring staff.

“You're right, but it's one of those letiougious things, the semantics don't matter to me I enjoy my job.” Nodding, more to yourself than to Steven, you get things back on track, “You were saying about Taweret...”

“Right, well if we just talk about her specifically in simple terms; she's a very protective goddess who oversees most aspects of life, from birth all the way to guiding the deceased in the afterlife. Some even believed she could help with reincarnating the shut if it didn't cross over properly. But that concept only popped up a couple of hundred years after...” Steven trailed off as he looked at you.

Once you noticed, you looked around wondering if maybe an actual customer came in that he needed to help. But you were still alone in the gift shop.

“Is something wrong?”

Nothing's wrong, you just haven't told him to shut up or lost interest in what he was saying. It's unusual that Steven gets the chance to really go in detail with Egyptology. He's been thrown for a loop, he's so used to being shot down before this point or called out for “pretending” to be a tour guide. The change of pace is refreshing and really put a bit of wind back into his sails after such a long day.

“I just um lost my train of thought...” a lie of course but how was he suppose to get across that he'd gotten flustered over a cute librarian who seemed to actually take interest in what he had to say.

'Dude, you're loosing' 'em.' a quick glance to his reflection in the glass window of the shop shows Jake leaning back while nodding in your direction, you who's still expectantly and patiently waiting for him to continue. With a small tilt of your head and furrow of your brow that leaves his mouth a little dry.

“Where was I?” he chuckles.

You're a blessing as you take pity on the man's nerves and answer encouragingly, “About how Taweret's connection to reincarnation was possibly retconed.”

A new voice enters the conversation causing you both to turn and look at it's owner, “More like they didn't realize Taweret's full potential for a while.”

Walking up to you both was a woman with the most perfectly placed curls you'd ever seen. A brief moment of jealousy passes through you but soon is washed away by admiration for her. It's obvious to you that this is Layla and now you understand why future you couldn't say much. She's like a goddess who walks on Earth, you wouldn't even know where to start with describing her and even then you don't think words would suffice. Gods your a simp, and it seems you'll stay a simp well into the future.

Your hunch is confirmed as Steven greets her, “Hello Layla, what brings you around?” his tone is even and relaxed though there's an underlying wariness to it.

She glances at you and gives a small smile, if you hadn't determined you were already friend-zoned in the future you may have tried to shoot your shot, before she looks back to Steven, “Waiting for your shift to end, we had plans tonight...”

The drawl at the end isn't lost on you that she's come up with that on the fly, you assume she's trying to get Steven's help with the situation. Though you never mentioned anyone else, then again you also did ask Matt to keep an eye out at home in case the kid turned up there looking for you – it's possible Layla was just covering her bases as well before diving into the search. The coin you'd been flipping before your encounter with Steven began rest heavily in your hand. With a glance to the man who's eyes are currently flickering across the museum seemingly scanning the crowd you flip the coin.

'Should we let Steven in?'

Catching the coin, the side displaying 'yes' is shining in the artificial light.

Layla had been watching you, having caught the movement of the coin flipping she turned her focus to you rather than the conversation she wasn't privy to. When you lock eyes with her you have to build up a little confidence to get your words out.

You really hadn't rehearsed or even thought of what you were going to say once you did find Layla. Half hoping she'd spot you first and just take you along for the ride while she handled things.

“Is this about the time jumper?”

From the reflection Marc can see the way Layla tenses up in surprise ar your question. Her eyes clouding a bit with uncertainty before asking, “How do you know about that?”

Marc has no idea what's going on, and judging by the faces of the other two neither do they. Was there a memo sent out that they didn't receive?

“My future self contacted me last night and told me to find you, pleasure to meet you by the way – have a feeling we'll be good friends. Anyway they said we'd have better luck tracking the kid down together.”

He's lucky Steven hadn't been facing the other way to focus on him and Jake in the reflection of the display glass behind him, because the sheer amount of force he fronted with would have given their body whiplash for sure.

“What the fuck did I just hear – and why are you not more surprised?” looking between you and Layla he can't piece together if this is some sort of prank. But you don't look familiar, so he doesn't think you're one of Layla's friends or at least not one he met when they were together – which would make involving you in a prank make sense.

Your wide eyes stare at him after the accent and overall vibe change of the sweet gift shop clerk. That was a decidedly not English accent and his features were more stern than before, a little more tired than as well.

“Guessing future self didn't mention him?” you shake your head.

Marc is still confused and looking to Layla for answers. Answers she doesn't have just yet but looking at you she figures she'll get them soon enough.

She gives him a shrug, “Finish up Steven's shift, he'll be pissed if you get him fired again. I'll see what more than can tell me and we'll fill you in along the way.”

Layla didn't need to motion for you to follow her outside, you would've been right behind her either way, she acted like she knew what she was doing so you'd trust her. There was reason your were told to find her after all and what better reason than she's the boss, the brains of the operation. Marc could only watch confused and concerned as you trailed behind Layla like some stray, it was only when you realized you were still toting around the plush and came toddling back to place it back on the shelf that Steven was able to front again and finish out his shift.

Still just as confused and in the dark as Marc was – at least you were nice, they don't meet too many like you, especially not recently.

#Moonknightfanfic #moon knight fanfic #moonknight fanfic #The Moon and The Stars #Marc Spector/Reader #Marcspector/reader #Marc Spector x Reader #Steven Grant/reader #Stevengrant/reader #Steven Grant X Reader #Jake Lockley/Reader #JakeLockley/Reader #Jake Lockley X Reader

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husbandohunter · 3 years

Text

Stardew Impact [Stardew Valley+Genshin Impact x Reader]

Part 2/3 Zhongli, Xiao

Synopsis: “A mysterious phenomenon brought you and your s/o to an unfamiliar world: Pelican Town! Without the power of Visions, the two of you begin to learn the life of what it takes to be...a farmer?”

(DOMESTIC FARM LIFE ROUND TWO)

Genre: Fluff

Others

Diluc and Kaeya

Albedo and Childe

(A/n): This was meant to be part 3 but I couldn't wait to write xiao. Plus Ive been writing Albedo for almost the whole month already Word count_2.6k

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Xiao

• Thrown in an unfamiliar environment puts Xiao on high alert. Instincts kick in and his hand subconciously grabs for his spear. Nothing. Not even his vision activated. Xiao's gaze darts all over before landing on your figure. He sighs in relief, you're safe, that much he can decipher as of now.

• Stripped of his power, left with only claws and teeth (if must) to protect you from any dangers, he was ansty with every little thing.

• The villagers are so nice??? For what reason must they have to act so friendly to strangers (Xiao wonders). The Mayor even granted you two a vast farmland free of charge.

• Shortly he realized he no longer had his karmaic debt. Xiao wasn't sure how to live his life in this state. He dedicated his entire existence to years of slaughter and suffering that it became the only thing he knew. He won't admit it of course, he'll just throw in scoffs and remarks about how mundane activities are a waste of time when in reality, he just has no clue on how to handle them.

• Thats why the first day was difficult as you both try to figure out how to plant parnsips. Deciding it was better to go with an experiment, you split the share of seeds in half and used what basic knowledge you had on farming to finish the job. Xiao on the other hand tried copying what you did….though the outcome wasn't so desirable it was a mess. (His trained hands have taught him to be on the rough side).

• He doesn't bother socializing with the townspeople even though he has no karmaic debt to worry about. Xiao thinks you're more than enough anyways so what's the point?

• Robin is the only person who can tolerate him for obvious reasons (cough Sebastian cough) she knows exactly how to deal with his personality type. His glares don't faze her, she simply thinks its just a teenage phase of some sort.

• Eventually they become mutuals, Xiao thinks Robin is similar to Verr Goldet in a way. Since he's the one who does the heavy labour of chopping down trees and mining stones for building upgrades, he gets a chance to visit her house quite often. He comes back with lots of recipes too.

• You find out that his adepti blood never left him. Xiao doesn't need sleep so you better believe it when he tells you the next morning that he spent the whole night watering all 300 of your crops (watering is the only process he's good at for farming).

• Sometimes you catch him staring out of the window, wondering what he may be thinking. Life was so much more different, almost hard to recognize. Was this real? Is it okay for it to be real, just this once? Ever since he committed his duty to Morax, Xiao didn't dream of a time when everything would be peaceful. Yet here he is, no longer a weapon but on a journey to find out what it's like to live as a normal person.

• Spring: Every morning you find him kneeling behind the cabin with the pet cat (yes, cats seem to suit Xiao very much). He just stares at them, hesitant if he wanted to pet their fur or rub their chin. So he continues to glare intensely, scaring your cat away :(

• Whenever you wanted to attend any of the town's festivities, Xiao wouldn't even hide his distastefulness but goes with you regardless. Why do mortals consider hiding eggs and finding them a fun activity? And what kind of a name is Flower Dance? Can't they just call it a dance?

• Though…he does like the sight of you wearing a flower crown. Xiao likes putting stuff in your hair.

Since setting foot upon this new world, time seemed to have slowed down to the point that almost everything felt like an eternity. And you didn't mind, with him by your side, you wouldn't mind if it did last forever.

The lull of the grass was the only sound Xiao could hear as he closed his eyes and rested his head on your lap. You maneuvered across his scalp in small, subtle motions, surprised with how warm he felt against the heat your palm. He stirs a little and lets out a soft breath before turning his face to lay on the side.

You were slightly intrigued by the yaksha's new demeanor. From far away, Xiao was an intimidating man, even during the first time you laid eyes him, his presence felt similar to a knife pointing at anyone who dares to come too close. But now, the face that usually held his signature annoyance melted into something you never thought you'd see as the sun rays brushed against the surface of his fair skin. You observed the way his dark eyebrows stayed in a relaxed arch. The red crescents lining right above his beautiful long lashes and the sound of soft snores through parted lips. It was hard to believe that this man was the same person who claimed to have ended a thousand lives through thousands of years.

Did he fall asleep already?

Gently moving away the strands away from his cheekbone, hovered your gaze above him and whispered, "I thought adepti don't need rest."

"Hmph," Xiao responds, though there was no harshness in his tone, "Quit trying to be difficult, I didn't tell you to stop."

The smug grin on your face only widens. You lean downward and said to his ear, "And what's the magic word~?"

Xiao sighs at your antics. You were truly pushing your luck today and he simply didn't have the patience to entertain you. Without a warning, he grabs your wrist and pulls you down, foreheads pressing until you were but a breath away. The adepti conquers, he does not plead.

• Summer: As expected, your parnsnips weren't able to grow as much. Thus, this season was going to be the one to make up for the lost profit. Xiao is very good at hunting, perhaps the best in the entire town. Though the way he catches fish is rather peculiar, said by the folks. He prefers to carve a spear made of wood and repeatedly stabs the lake until results show. Xiao dislikes the old fashioned way, he says its unproductive and it unecissarily takes too much time.

• But as much as he scared the whole town, they were extremely grateful when he cleaned up the slime issues happening in the mines. You could say that he grew very popular since then and eventually mustered up the courage to greet him a hello whenever he passes by.

• You nudge him to reply back. Xiao usually shoots you a glare but slowly, he learns the courtesy of acknowledging someone's prescence.

• Fall: You woke up to a burnt smell coming from the kitchen. Xiao just thought he would return the favour since you always worked so hard. (He was actually trying to figure out what a 'whisk' was. It was no wonder why there were eggshells in the dish!)

• You realized that Xiao was taking more initation compared to before. At night, when you thought the animals were actively jumping in the barns, the noise was actually from Xiao trying to adjust himself to the ways of tending the field. After learning what TV was, he would always switch to the channel "Livin off the land" to gain some insight. Truly, Xiao was greatful even though he knew he eventually had to return to his duties, he wanted to utilize the current days the best way he could. And what better way was it to just make you happy in return?

• Winter: This was the season to test the accumulation of Xiao's abilities: you caught a cold and he had to manage everything in his own. Xiao scolded you for not wearing enough and being too careless but at the same he considered that you must've been working too hard.

• Goes to Robin for help. She basically became his mom now. Prepares the food and leaves them in the fridge, she teaches Xiao how to use the phone in case he needed any help and also lets him know where all the essentials are.

• Xiao stayed by your side the whole time even though you told him you'd be fine. But he refuses, he may no longer be a gaurdian but he was your gaurdian. That role never changed.

~~x~~

Zhongli

• You wake up on a soft bed with Zhongli sitting at a chair nearby. He hands you a cup of brewed water but you're still blatlantly confused. Seems like everything was taken care of by Zhongli, it ends up with him explaining everything to you.

• The folks instantly assumes you both as a married couple. Who could blame them? He did carry your unconcious body all the way to town while asking for a local doctor. You can bet that the ladies wish they were you at that moment. Zhongli took care of everything, including with the contract with the new farm.

• It didn't take long for you both to adjust to the new lifestyle. Zhongli's accumulated knowledge was enough to last all four seasons. Days past by peacefully as you shared the tasks. He'd place down the stone paths towards the gate and you busied yourself with decorating the house. After that was done, Zhongli would rest upon the rocking chair outside your door (like the grandpa he is) and sometimes you'd join him in one reading session. His voice was soothing, you eventually dipped into a slumber as the evening grew colder. Just like always, your beloved brings his arm to encapsulate you from the wind, brushing his thumb against your skin subconciously while you snore softly into his shoulder.

• In a way, the townsfolk were right. You both do act like a married couple. It's basically domestic life with Zhongli in a nutshell.

• He gets connected with Gunther and lands a role in the Museum. Since he's there so often, Zhongli also manages to be acquainted with Elliot as well. Two men who have a common interest with books while speaking in poetic prose. Their conversation would last for hours to the point Gunther had to kick them out of the library!

• Veeeery good with the children, not in an entertaining way but its just the aura he reeks. Penny usually had trouble dealing with Vincent since he never seems to be able to focus but the minute Zhongli speaks, he's all ears. Not only that he was also very good with the elderly. He even recommended some herbs George could take to soothe his back issues.

• Problem is that he still forgets to bring his wallet and Childe isn't here to save him. So once you stepped foot into the Stardrop Saloon and Gus calls you over, he tells you about the cost he owed to his tab….

• But this tranquil life full of genuinity and deprived of sovereignty, he was overjoyed to be able to spend it with you. Because he knew you were unlike him, that all humans were born with an expiry date. He knew so well that after every new greeting, he would have to face the goodbyes over and over until the world eventually came to an end. He knew you were also going to be part of those many goodbyes while he would still be here.

• But as Zhongli walks amongst the fallen leaves, he remembered the beauty that carries within every new beginning. They brought him to you and he would never hesitate to trade his gnosis for it.

Spring: You shot up your bed when Zhongli blast the TV at full volume. He apologizes, saying that he was simply trying to change the channel. You figured it was best for him to go outside before he somehow glitches the screen until it couldn't repair itself (Robin charges for repairs).

• Every thursday you both go to Pierre's store to complete your grocery shopping. He offers to push the cart as you fill the basket with all the necessities (plus it saves you the trouble of having him tossing whatever he sees without looking at the price tag).

• Every afternoon you order a take out from the Saloon, sharing the meal while sitting at the fountain's edge near the community center. Every evening Zhongli would take you to explore the rest of the vast farmland, discovering places you weren't even aware of. It was no wonder why everyone thought you were a married couple.

• Summer: Since the cabin was too small for a bathroom, you guys would have to travel up the mountains in order to get to the Spa house (cue sweatiness x10).

• The concept of hotsprings was derived from Inazuma so it was no surprise that Liyue eventually took it after him. Zhongli had collected some incense from foraging items over the past few months, he knows whats up. But overall he gives the best bath sessions (hands down) and you were the one who insisted in joining him. He was a gentle and sweet lover, always putting your needs before his. Ancient artifacts and old history books have always been precious to him, he treated you no differently.

The heartbeat of the oceans continues to rock back and forth until they brush up on the sandy shore, washing away the two pairs of footprints left behind by a man and a woman.

Gold against gold, his amber eyes reflected against the scenery. Millions of lights flashed among the sea when the sun began to climb down from the sky, it's rays hugged across the valley like an ethereal glow bestowed by the heavens as summer's wind brought even more warmth than what he had currently felt. You trance ahead of with the same light shaping around your form.

"Oh hey there's another rainbow shell," you waved at him before running off, "I'll be back!"

How is it that you still continue to shine like gold in his memories?

Zhongli suddenly ponders at the chapters laying ahead of him. He spent so many years turning each page without ever reaching a conclusion, forever searching the fabled happy endings written in fairytale books, but he knew his immortality wouldn't grant him that wish.

Thus, the formal archon raised his pen and reweaves his own story. He envisions his future with you by his side, engraving every detail until it was immortalized in his memories.

Perhaps I shouldn't keep her waiting.

With a renewed resolve, Zhongli clutches the gemstone tightly in his palm, he seals the page with the final contract between your future and his.

• Fall: After getting your first house upgrade, it was time for the next event: the ceremony. Yes, Zhongli would only have a wedding if Liyue traditions were involved. Everyone was invited of course, they were quite intrigued with the flashy setup such as lanterns and fireworks (you were a little worried with where he got the budget for such items) and Zhongli even educated Gus about some recipes he can use for the Saloon.

• You found out that Zhongli was saving all his money for this day (it was no wonder that he couldn't pay for his tab!). Old habits die hard, it was a shame that he didn't have his powers to craft the right items, but at least he got to sea you in a traditional eastern dress (it's the part he was looming forward to the most).

• Fall is the best season. One you wouldn't forget.

• Winter: Ah he finally learns how to use technology after three seasons. He only knows two channels from the TV which was 'Livin off the Land' and the weather channel. Zhongli oftens talks to himself as he tries to figure out more mechanics, he seems to be extremely absorbed in the most basic things.

• The miner of the house. But instead of using them to upgrade tools and donating them to the museum, Zhongli likes to keep some of them for collection. You could say your house also had a little museum in the other room.

• Romcom movies and soap operas. You can't change my mind that this is what you both spend your time watching as the snowstorm rages outside.

#genshin impact #stardew valley #genshin impact headcanons #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #xiao headcanons #zhongli #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact xiao #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin imagines #genshin impact zhongli #genshin xiao #genshin zhongli #nya-writes

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sleephyjhs · 4 years

Text

When You’re Expecting (Taehyung Headcanon)

pairing: taehyung x pregnant!reader

warnings: mention of fertility & pregnancy complications

note: i’ve been craving to write a bts x pregnancy series for a while so here we go !! if there’s a specific member you’d like to see next, shoot me an ask :)

m.list

FINDING OUT

even before finding out you were pregnant, you both had so much love for your child

there was nothing either of you could have wanted more than a baby

it was always at the forefront of your mind how much you wanted a little human of your own

it was approaching a year since you began trying seriously

a few false hopes and two miscarriages later, fertility drugs were looking to improve the chances of conceiving

the raging hormones which came with the drugs were all worth the positive test

early september - sickness had hung around your throat for days

headaches lasted longer than usual, and crying at the most mundane things had become an unwelcome habit

in the bathroom cabinet, you’d collected a small stockpile of electronic and stick pregnancy tests

one of them would eventually show positive, right?

taehyung sat on the bathroom tiles with you

waiting two minutes felt closer to waiting two months

he crossed his legs, bouncing his knees impatiently

your knees came to your chin; high hopes weighed heavily on your heart

the alarm set on his phone beeped quietly

your heartbeat rose suddenly to your throat

taehyung reached out for your hand as you turned to read the results

two blue lines - as clear as day

they became less clear as your eyes coated with thick, salty tears

he began to chuckle as his happiness trickled down his cheeks

“we did it baby! we’re gonna have a baby!” he whispered, choked up by his own anticipation

no words were left swirling in your mind

your jaw hung open as though the hinges were faulty

shakily, you lifted the electronic test to triple check

pregnant.

as you crashed into taehyung’s open arms, memories of the past loomed in your mind

it was only inevitable

a positive test was a familiar joy to you both

however this familiar joy had only ever been followed by crippling devastation

as much as you tried not to think about it, you couldn’t help but retain maternal caution

however, this time also felt different

taehyung’s spirit, your spirit - it was as though fate didn’t want to disappoint you any more

someone out there decided it was finally your time to grow a mini human to bring into the world

of course, no time was wasted in contacting the maternity clinic

seeing your baby on a screen was now a top priority

just to see their little head, maybe even hear their heartbeat

just to know they were okay

just to know you were keeping them cosy and safe, that’s all you needed

taehyung couldn’t hold his excitement

from leaving the house to reaching the hospital, his toothy grin never wiped from his cheeks

he never said anything at the time since his main focus was always on comforting you

but losing his babies near enough tore him apart

even when you tried to comfort him, taehyung restricted himself just to protect your wellbeing

of course, the worse had already crossed his mind

but it wouldn’t get the better of him

it couldn’t.

you soon learned you were already 6 weeks pregnant

the midwife had to point out where your little baby was hanging out; they were such a tiny thing after all

briefly, you took the opportunity to hear their heartbeat

it was faint over the machine, but fast

there really was a life within you.

“there’s something else, if you just look over here...” the midwife prompted, turning the monitor so you could grasp a better view

taehyung leaned slightly over your chest to peer closely at the smaller monochrome screen

with the mouse, she circled a second bean shaped figure

“the fertility drugs increase the chance of twins. looks like you guys got lucky!”

twins. you were having twins.

THE PREGNANCY

like with most pregnancies, you were advised to wait until the 12 week milestone to begin announcing your impending delivery

and even though he understood the importance of patience right now, taehyung could hardly contain his excitement

it didn’t help that a little bump had already begun to grow

keeping a secret was much more difficult when the evidence was near impossible to hide

already, taehyung spent early mornings talking to his little angels

telling them stories he seemingly made up on the spot

or even borrowing some from his own childhood

“you know they can’t hear you yet? it’s about 7 weeks until they’ll be able to, honey.”

“i know, i’m just practising for when they can.”

of course, you wouldn’t admit that you did the same when you were alone

you attended more midwife appointments than other expectant mothers might

the pair of you much preferred being on the safer side

in the car, when on a quieter, less congested road, taehyung often reached over to cradle your still-growing bump with a free hand

you slotted your fingertips between his for additional sappiness

“you two have so many people waiting for you here, hmm? many people are already so in love with you both. me and mummy included.”

on a sleepless night, you’d made a small pact with tae

it was a rash decision, but sincere nonetheless

“no matter what, they are always going to know how wanted they were. always.”

taehyung hardly needed reminding of this, but it was still a weight off your shoulders

as you tried to conceive, the pregnancy diet had already been implemented into your daily routines

however now that you were carrying two precious babies, there really would be no more ‘cheat’ days for you

no more extra half cups of coffee on slower mornings

although you usually took over the role of head chef in the house, taehyung dedicated extra effort into preparing you both healthy and yummy foods

sautéd rice with green vegetables and lean meat/tofu appeared to be his go-to

but you still opted to supervise just in case

finally being able to announce your pregnancy was another heavy weight lifted from your mind

the other members were over the moon for you both

particularly when they reminded themselves of the struggles you had experienced previously

and also remembering the utter devastation of their taehyung when he had to break it to them

all of them kept their eye out for little gifts and outfits

each week, taehyung came home with a new stack of pale rompers or neutral-tones teething toys

these babies would have the best uncles; at least that much you could be certain of

announcing your pregnancy on social media was a looming task, but one he was determined to pull off perfectly

for filler content between schedules, the members had been asked to film a 5 minute vlog of their daily life

well, what a perfect opportunity!

towards the end, taehyung made sure to include some shots of your now protruding bump overlaid with some more vintage camera settings

safe to say, that day you had broken the internet

love, congratulations and blessings poured in from every corner of the earth

a few comments complimenting how much pregnancy suited you touched you especially

self image is commonly effected by the progression of pregnancy, and you were no exception to that

although it was amazing how your body grew and made a little home for your tiny babies, it was still quite strange to see yourself changing so quickly

your favourite clothes didn’t fit around your doubled bump anymore

and your skin seemed to hate sharing nutrients with two extra people

but for the days where you struggled to love yourself, taehyung easily filled in the gaps for you

sneaking up behind you in the bathroom

(although the mirror kinda gave him away)

he’d wrap his arms around your just-moisturised bump and carefully rest his chin on your shoulder

“tell me all your worries honey.”

you gushed over how much you missed wearing your favourite jackets

and how strange it was to look at yourself in such a new and confusing way

“i know it’s normal, and i know i have to do it for them. but i guess it’s just weird - i don’t look like myself anymore”

he sighed and planted a kiss on a spot of bare skin

those small kisses still tickled you like they always had

“well, you definitely look different,”

you really hoped there was a second part to that sentence, mostly for tae’s own good

“but why does that have to be bad? not gonna lie, it actually kinda makes you hotter. maybe we should make babies more often!”

“make~?”

LABOUR AND DELIVERY

originally, you had wanted to try and stick to the natural route for as long as you could

but after a few contractions, that idea was immediately out of the window

to help steady yourself and wait out the pain, you held onto the kitchen island and swayed to your own pace

eventually, taehyung joined you

copying the same movements while timing your contractions

“they really must be desperate to come out, huh?”

“well do you think they could hurry it up a bit?!”

the pair of you had been prepared for this for over a month

the hospital bag was ready by the door with all of your essentials packed tightly inside

not forgetting the pots of instant ramen taehyung insisted he must bring in case of an emergency

just as he was readying to back out of the driveway, taehyung took a mental stock check of everything packed in the back

“do you think we have everything?”

“i love you but stop talking please.”

thankfully, he understood well that the sheer pain made you cranky

so long as he assured himself that it was ‘just the contractions’, he’d be just fine

as much as he couldn’t wait to announce he was about to become a father to everyone, he kept himself grounded when walking you to the maternity ward

one corridor in and you’d suggested that a wheelchair might be a better mode of transport

breathlessness and contractions didn’t sound like a favourable mix to you

the assessment of your fast dilation granted you an immediate spot in the labour ward

you’d picked this suite specially due to its expansive space

the option of a birthing pool was still available if you so needed it, but the mood lighting and access to aromatherapy was what attracted you to the room in the first place

a serene paradise for your angels to be born into

it was perfect

taehyung explored while you adjusted to your new surroundings

of course, it didn’t take him long to find the birthing ball

“what’s the difference between a yoga ball and a birthing ball?”

there obviously was none, but you took a few seconds to try and be smart with him

“well, sit on that and you might have a baby the size of a watermelon come out of you soon.”

taehyung cradled his torso and pulled a shocked expression, which was enough to make you giggle and cause another contraction

less than a few hours passed, and you had already attempted to scream the building down once or twice

“get these babies out of me. no i’m serious, i need them out.”

realising your deadpan expression, taehyung soon attended to you at the head of your bed

stroking your slightly sweaty head and patting a ice cold flannel on your clammy forehead

he braced himself for a crushing hand grip which came about sooner than he’d prepared for

you weren’t the biggest fan of commotion, and so being surrounded by nurses and doctors was close to being your worst nightmare

taehyung focused his voice into your ear, trying to minimise the tension coming from below your pelvis

his motivational words were broken up by short bursts of pushes

many of which were followed by a string of curse words which just slipped out

and then, there it was.

the first piercing cry belted across the room

a tear or two may have happened to slip from your eyes

finally the moment you’d waited for, nearly two years in the making, was here

the first of two, a little girl who already had a head full of the most luscious black hair

taehyung wanted to hold back his happy tears in order to show some kind of strength

but you and him both knew he’d never hold it back for long

within the space of 4 minutes, the second baby was born into the world.

but this time, there was no immediate cry

the whole world seemed to slow down in that moment as you waited

and waited

midwifes gathered around the new infant, looking for any kind of obstruction

but, soon enough, your son said his first hello to the world

#taehyung #kim taehyung #bts #bts taehyung #bts v #bangtan #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts one shot #bts drabble #bts headcanon #bts mtl #bts imagine #bts reaction #bts pregnancy #taehyung dad #taehyung x reader #taehyung x oc #taehyung pregnancy

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demonslayedher · 3 years

Note

Hi! I keep seeing people commenting again and again that Rengoku's "Umai" comes from "ancient samurai did it to enjoy every meal as if it were their last one", but I can't find a reliable source on that. Do you happen to know if that's true or it's just one of those fandom rumors that spread around and everyone believes them? Did the Rengokus used to be samurai?

I have... never heard this????? Granted, I don't stray from under my Tumblr rock when it comes to interacting with the wider KnY fandom, so that might be part of it. But I also have been a nerd for samurai since long before KnY might have been a twinkle in a gator's eye, and... I still have not heard this??????? Granted, I am but one nerd on the internet, so there's of course plenty I don't know. So I went looking into this on the Japanese interwebs, found a good handful of articles on the epistemology of the "umai" Rengoku uses and how the usage meaning can vary depending on the kanji it's written in, and...

Again, that's not to say there's not something out there, but I couldn't find anything that implied that this started as a samurai-specific phrase with a highly specific meaning behind praising a potential last meal's tastiness. Setting aside the question of the word "umai," though, there is a lot of meat to this interpretation, though. There is a lot of samurai and Zen influence at work in Kyojuro's character, the Rengoku clan, and in Kimetsu no Yaiba as a whole.

Let's start with the question of whether or not Kyojuro (and everyone else in the Rengoku clan) is a samurai. I don't think this is an appropriate phrase for a number of historical reasons as well as reasons in canon. First, to my knowledge, the use of 侍 "samurai" in KnY is limited to context of swordsmen from warrior families (武家 "buke") who would have acted under the title of someone who is a career warrior under the service of a warlord. Child Yoriichi uses this phrase when addressing Michikatsu, saying he wants to be the "second strongest samurai." This is appropriate for them, for as warrior family, they have the social expectations of samurai to live up to. This was back in the Warring States period, but the definition of samurai was a building block of the whole social structure in the Edo period, and being tied in with politics would be problematic for a family committed to an unrecognized/secret organization. The Rengoku clan had their own illustrious family legacies to maintain, their own master they already served separate from whatever warlord is in power, and their own dire mission unrecognized by the political world. Rather than samurai, most of the time the demon slayers (or demon hunters, as they were more commonly called in Yoriichi's day before "Corp" existed as a military phrase) were referred to as swordsmen: 剣士 "kenshi." This is how Yoriichi referred to the Rengoku ancestor who found him after Uta was slain. That all being said, the Rengoku family clearly would had been influenced by samurai culture, so much so that acquaintances might assume they are of the samurai class. Besides the general attitudes, there are many subtle details that make the Rengoku household seem like a buke. You know how excited I was when watching the movie and I saw the garden in Rengoku-san's flashbacks and was like, "ahhhh, look at that, only evergreens, no fading flowers, that is totally a garden appropriate for a samurai abode." "But wait!" you might say. "Cherry blossoms represent the evanescent nature of the samurai, scattering in youthful warrior glory!" Pssh, yeah, that makes it a real inauspicious thing to have in your garden. Sometimes you want a symbol of a samurai's undying loyalty and stuff instead. But the constant awareness of death? Yeah, totally a samurai thing. And that's part of why Zen was so popular with samurai/swordsmen. The more you dig into the samurai psyche about death and constant preparation for it (as well as the struggle to be stoic about it, as opposed to fearing it or being too eager for a glorious death), the more fascinating things you find. Even proper hygiene for making sure your head is a fitting trophy from the battlefield! One method of stoicism found in Zen is mindfulness, and it's actually been on my mind lately how so much of Breath users' abilities does stem from mindfulness (emphasis on the five senses, embracing mundane chores like Tanjiro tending rice as it cooks, heck, even the tree-like state), which would lend itself very well to the interpretation that each meal should be appreciated like your last.

Like, that's one reason the tea ceremony was so popular a practice among samurai too. It draws you attention to the moment. And it's pretty realistic that you'll never encounter a moment like that again with the people you're gathered with. It's the same sort of the approach, and it can absolutely be applied to eating. There is a lot of more general focus throughout KnY on meditation being a source of strength, be it training under waterfalls, Genya repeating the Nembutsu prayer or Ruka practicing Kankagari (meditation done by expectant mothers in the Rengoku clan, staring at a hanging lantern). Breath itself is so, so, so, so closely linked to meditation. It's as though Gotouge is trying to extol the virtues of mastery of the self, and how running away with our passions (perhaps well-meaning, but misguided) is what will make demons out of us. And Kyojuro, who sees good reason for being sad over his father's state, stoically chose mastery over his own emotions. He does not let his potential inadequacies become a passion that rules his heart, and this gives his mind the freedom to adjust quickly to new situations. Kyojuro does tend to live in a state of being in the present, and that means being mindful of an grateful for the details of everything and everyone around him. He accepts not only that he may die protecting his juniors, but that he might also grow old and weak. He neither seeks or flees from either course.

To become a demon would be to let oneself be consumed by passions, ultimately losing that appreciation for our delicate existence. Maybe I wouldn't call him a samurai, but I would feel comfortable calling Kyojuro a 武士 "bushi" (warrior) (albeit the over-idealized bushi mindset took through writings of people who could only look back and admire samurai of the past, and project themselves onto them a bit, but I digress, that's an interesting but irrelevant topic). Not every samurai was a good one, especially as we trickled through the peaceful Edo period, being a samurai was just a happy accident of birth that landed you a civil service position. But for someone who accepted a bushi lifestyle, they accepted that death might always be near. While it's very easy for bushi idealism to be taken to a fanatical level (and for politics, it always has been), KnY lifts up the best of it, with mindful attitudes to strive for even without death constantly down our necks.

#oh look it's 1am #KnY fandom theories and meta #rengoku kyoujurou #rengoku kyojuro #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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chil2de · 3 years

Note

Hi!! if possible can i please request yuuta having a girlfriend that’s his childhood friend? (So like instead of rika it’s y/n and she doesn’t die) that loves to dote on him cause that boy needs some love. Thank you!! <3

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE THIS MADE ME SO SOFT!!!!! ohmygod!!!! growing up with yuuta would be THE best onshdhfsh thank you sososos much anon this was such a pleasure to write! i don’t know why but the “and she doesn’t die” had me screaming LMFAOOOO

enjoy! no warnings, just old fashioned cute fluff and heart wrenching moments! thank you for giving me the opportunity to write for the best boy mwaaah you deserve eternal happiness! hope no insects bite you during these warm months <3

“okkotsu!” you cried out, feminine and shrill voice ringing in the air. the cicadas chirped melodiously, calling out their delightful songs in the spring air.

the young boy staggered around, losing his balance from spinning too fast. his fragile hands reached out, pulling in small grabby motions towards your innocent and joyous face.

you were always so optimistic, even when you were younger. yuuta could only huff and wail as his caretaker hauled him away from the playground, gesturing it was time for him to come home. thick and messy tears spilled out the corners of his eyes which hadn’t yet endured countless sleep devoid nights.

he was so far away, but that was okay because you knew you’d see him the very next day.

“okkotsu! promise to play with me again tomorrow!” you cupped your hands, exclaiming as much as your little lungs could endure. yuuta could see the tears heavy in your gaze, but even then, you prevailed. you grinned, all for him.

ever since the very start. till ‘death do us apart.

“okkotsu! come oooon, don’t cry, okay? (y/n)’s got your back! see, see?! look! they don’t bite!” you braved a smirk on your features, beckoning the shy and introverted young man over. his face looked uncertain and his lips wobbled as though he could crack at any moment. he took a few cautious steps, maintaining his distance between you and the furry animal on the floor.

“r-really? it won’t bite?” he coughed, reaching his unstable fingertips out.

“eh?! that’s the first time you’ve spoken to me! your voice is so nice! it’s so cool! hey! can i hear it again? pleaaaase? i know you’re shy but i’d really like to hear it! hey, okkotsu, say my name? pretty please?”

“um- i, uh.. it’s okay.. you can call me yuuta.”

“yuuta! you’re going to be late for your first day of junior high! i totally told you to wake up on time too!” you stood with your hands rested firmly on your hips, face stern and tone impatient.

“sorry! sorry- it’s um, my hair. i don’t know how to style it.” he admitted, albeit sheepishly by trailing the last few words off into a murmur. you only gave him a sigh before kneeling down behind him, propping yourself up to take a look at his hair in the reflection of the mirror.

“how on earth are you so tall already? we eat the same food, you know. slouch over a little.” you pinched his cheeks before glossing over his hair.

when you ran your fingertips through his hair, you felt butterflies and anxiety rock your stomach.

that’s never been there before.

you’ve touched yuuta countless times, whether that was accidentally hitting him, holding his hand to cross the street…

so why was it different?

you could feel yuuta’s body tense up and run rigid underneath your touch.

that definitely wasn’t there before.

“relax. it’s me.” you cooed quietly, roughing up his hair into different styles.

“like this? looks like you just woke up, sorta, but i think it’s cute.”

yuuta’s heart rate skyrocketed through the roof and his breath hitched.

“cute?” he reiterated, chewing out the phrase like he’d never heard it before in his life.

“hm? yeah-“

you caught his gaze in the mirror, eyes half lidded and attention averted. the tips of his ears were tainted a deep red with small flicks of blush painting his cheeks.

“eh?! nononono- not like that i’m- i just think it suits you, you know? oh, crap, would you look at the time? okay we gotta go and leave!” you clambered out of his bedroom, thudding the door shut behind you.

yuuta only gawked at you with bewilderment, lips slightly parted and fingertips outstretched in his failed attempt to stop you.

he turned to himself in the mirror, studying his features before running one hand through his jet black locks.

“cute, huh?” he muttered, avoiding his own judgemental gaze.

the bittersweet part about growing up with a childhood friend is change.

for all the time that you’d spent with yuuta, you didn’t realise that your relationship with him was something to not take for granted.

especially with those around you who would kill for what you two have.

you’d always get mundane questions from high school girls who thought they could have a shot with him, “what’s his type?” “do you think he likes me?”

meanwhile you only played along with their charades, laughing inwardly when he was actually extremely introverted.

“so? what’s the deal with you and okkotsu-san? you guys dating?”

“no. we’re just friends.”

“seriously? you guys are always glued at the hip. you know he has a picture of you in his locker, right?”

“yeah? so do i. it doesn’t mean anything.”

“it’s kind of a shame, he’s such a nice young man.. gone to waste like that..”

“what’s gone to waste?” yuuta inquired with an indifferent tone, plopping down beside you with his bento box. the classmate sat opposite you only gave him a phony cheerful temperament, twirling her index finger around her hair.

“oh! okkotsu-senpai! we were just talking about you! how was your da-“

“please leave.”

you could only gape at him in your peripherals, sputtering on your sandwich as you watched the life drain from your classmate at his monotony. yuuta didn’t spare you or the girl a glance as he worked to unpack his lunch, hell the guy even murmured a small itadakimasu as if nothing happened.

“wh- okkotsu senpai?”

“listen.” he let out a deep sigh before proceeding.

“whatever shot you thought you had with me? it’s gone out the window. don’t disrespect (y/n) in front of me like that again.”

“you’re making us uncomfortable, so get up and go.” he motioned with his chopsticks, giving her a dead gaze towards another table.

the girl scoffed, mouth hung wide open as she picked up her bag and stormed out of sight.

whilst your face was as blank as a stone, internally, you were only screaming in the depths of piping hot hell visible from the sun itself.

baby girl? that was when you noticed how fucking fine of a man yuuta grew up to be.

“that was seriously nerve wracking.. my stomach hurts so bad right now” yuuta coughed through a bite of his sandwich, refusing to meet your gaze.

you slapped his back, because, holy shit??? awe painted your face like you just witnessed your own child talking or walking for the first time.

“what the shit? yuuta? are you kidding?”

“oh, huh? did i overdo it or something?“

“no?! are you kidding? that was fucking awesome! i swear! this is why i love you-“

oh.

uh oh.

oh no.

yuuta let out a shrill squeak unbeknownst to any human being able to produce such a volume. it was a cross between a floorboard creaking, a mouse sniffing and him choking on his food. the poor boy had to excuse himself to the bathroom, hacking and sniffling in an ugly fit of coughs from the food that got caught in his windpipe.

your blood rushed to your head, veins lit ablaze, bones rattling as you could hear the chatter pound and drill into your skull, scoring you deep and down into your bones.

“did she just say she loves him?”

“i totally knew they were going out!”

“i can’t believe it…”

“do you think he’ll reject her?”

it replayed over, and over, and over. what a fucking fool you felt. did he even feel the same?

that’s why i love you.

i love you.

a blob of black clouded your vision and you could hear the glass breaking.

yuuta sat himself back down, excusing himself.

you could hear nothing but the tune of his heartbeat. or was it yours? it sounded too heavy to belong in either of your bodies.

his voice came as a wobble because of his anxiety, but this was the one thing in his life he’d be absolutely certain of.

“that’s okay. i love you too.”

“yuuta? you okay? you’ve been spacing out for at least five minutes. something on your mind?” you lightly shake your boyfriend, grip reassuring but firm. it takes a couple of seconds for his gaze to gloss over as he returns back to reality.

“sorry. was just thinking about our childhood, that’s all.” his voice comes out deep and masculine. it doesn’t have that tremor as it used to before, like he’d break down at any minute.

you can say with absolute certainty as you stare up your entire 5’10 boyfriend that he’s matured well.

his hand snakes around to your waist, pulling you into him for comfort.

some ways better than others, you suppose.

“can we stay home today?” he hums, resting his chin on top of your head,

“same as ever, yuuta, aren’t you? it’s fine, i’ll tell nobara my period’s making me act up. she’ll understand-“

“hm? you’re not due for another week though, right?”

you crease your eyebrows as you type out an apology to nobara for cancelling plans, glancing up at yuuta curiously.

“how the heck do you know that?”

“i’m not supposed to? i’d always count your cycle so i wouldn’t irritate you on the wrong day. besides, don’t you think it was too convenient for you to always find snacks in your locker when it rolled around?”

“those snacks were you?! oh my god! i was trying to figure that out for forever!”

“i know. i remember you ranting to me about it.”

“you just sat there?! yuuta! you’re so cheeky sometimes, i swear!”

“only for you.” he chimes, peppering a soft kiss onto your head. you smile against him, though unfortunately pry out of his familiar and welcoming touch.

“i’m gonna step out for a second tho, ‘kay? i think that’s itadori at the door with my chocolate and painkillers” you snort, giving yuuta a bold wink as you put on your best act, keeling over and clutching at your abdomen as though you’re on death’s door.

“you’re awful.” yuuta chuckles, slumping down onto the sofa to hear the events unfold right in front of him.

you clear your throat and slouch your shoulders as you pry the apartment door open.

“(y/n)-senpai! i came as fast as i could and i brought you some of your favourite sna- oh, okkotsu-senpai! hello!”

“hi there.” he leans his head back, giving itadori a small wave.

“i won’t interrupt you guys so get well soon! and fast! cause i wanna hang out with you! bye!”

you cradle the necessities itadori brought whilst gleaming at yuuta with a wicked grin plastered on your face from ear to ear.

“you want anything?” you cock an eyebrow, showing him the arrangement of snacks.

it’s not the answer you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t unwelcome. it made you feel warm inside, like eating warm and soothing soup on a cold winter’s day. this, for you, was okkotsu yuuta at his best, stripped clean and vulnerable.

you’re the only one who he can relax around, act like the world is carefree. like he’s young again, prancing around in that dingy colourful playground he met you at.

“i want you to kiss me.”

#okay hold up #yuuta’s little ‘hi there’ HAS ME ACTING TF UP #OOOOOOOHHH THIS MAN #anyways i hope i wrote him well!!#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios #jjk headcanons #okkotsu yuuta #jjk yuuta #yuuta x you #yuuta x reader #okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu imagines #yuuta okkotsu

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bakingandbooks3 · 3 years

Text

A Court of Song and Serpents

A bit short but the begging of a project I'm SO excited for- hope you love this as much as I do.

Summary: What a time to be alive as Nesta Archeron, going backward to move forward and finding that the places she once called home are now empty tombs.

Nesta

Nesta held her breath for a moment, a pause, and stilled entirely. The Court of Nightmares. She knew the verdict would be severe, but never would she have expected exile to a world of terror. The horrors of that place, of how it was once the main residence of the High Lord- till Rhysand.

Rhysand, the man who boasted of lands bountiful with choice and reason, now sat across from her donning unmasked hatred. A look he kept shielded from his mate, reserved just for Nesta. The kind that rips one apart from the inside out, would carve out the belly of a beast, burn a witch on a wooden pyre.

Nesta felt nothing, she always did. It wasn’t hard to see what he was thinking of her, how his beautiful wife’s wretched sister was little more than a gambling thief who slept her way through his glorious city. Now, fingers smeared that blank canvas so pure of her darkest shades.

Eyes flicking back, she studied that same sister. The Cursebreaker, the Savior.

How small and insignificant she became next to the glimmering shining thing Feyre was. The lands spoke of her beauty and kind touch, and how she sacrificed everything to save a world of people, and Fae that she was raised to despise.

Nesta wished it’d be known that her touch wasn’t always kind.

She built her bricks firm enough that her house of grace never shattered; Held firm, it was all she had left in her. Too many eyes on her filled with grief, excitement, retribution-Nesta was keenly aware of how this Court of Dreams felt of her.

“This is an exile.”

Rhysand's smirk peaked so slightly, his mate tensing.

“No, no. This is an intervention, a chance for you to find yourself away from bad influences and habits. You can’t keep living like this, and I refuse to let it continue happening and I take the fall for it. Your decisions are impractical and immoral. You are sober much less than you are drunk and-”

“If you’re going to condemn me, do it. But don’t sit here and act as if this is out of kindness.” Nesta snarled. She hated the barbed words, but it’s what she felt. “Who are you to question my morality?”

“I think I can speak for my wife when I say that your presence here is….” Rhysand growled but pulled back, like he forgot Feyre was right there, too.

Nesta wished he would’ve let go, so maybe that facade Rhys reserved for Feyre was broken. No, that’s cruel. As much as she hated this and him, he was making her sister happy.

Something Nesta could never do.

“I do not give a shit what my presence is doing. The decision has already been made, so stop scolding me like a child and make good on your word, Rhysand.” Bile rose in her throat, the words feeling nothing but slimy and disgusting. Foreign, yet habitual all the same. Sometimes, she forgets there once was a woman called Nesta who was so much more than the viper living in her now.

Sometimes she remembers that she can’t ever be her again.

Home was nowhere for her, not in a person, not in a place, certainly not in this bombastic group of “heroes”. Nesta didn’t need a hero, she just needed someone to care. But Nesta knew better, no one would. She was taught to be unlovable, just a woman to be sold off and married- to climb her mothers' ever-growing social ladder.

But Nesta on her own was never enough, even with her mother six feet under and rotted away there were unsung expectations unmet. She was a catastrophic failure and a dark smear on a family name that never truly held weight to her.

Nesta looked up, felt everything all at once again, could only see one man pacing a worn-through tether between them. He wasn’t going to stop this, but she could see it, how it looked like he wanted to jump out of his own flesh, the veins of his arm prominent and knuckles normally so brown a new fresh fallen snow.

There was no prince to save Nesta, much less any will to save herself. So when Mor took the pleasure of bringing her to a living Hell, Nesta did not fight.

She was tired of fighting, after all, she fought an inescapable fate for the first twenty years of her life…

Flowers always made Nesta sneeze, but Elain lit like lights during winter whenever she could thread them through her hair. They all symbolized something, Laine would say. There are ones for good days, and hard storms, for sunshine and stars.

Nesta was always adorned in flowers that paralleled the estate. Astute, cold, tired, where she was warm, comforting, and smelled like cookies- ones that Celia normally baked for the sisters. She never asked Laine why she picked the ones for her that she did, her reasons would stay silent for now.

Spring was a high time of activity in the Archeron estate. There was always a flurry of activity, from preparing their mothers' obscene balls, to guests at every corner in every room. The halls were sprinkled in candles and on walls hung frames nearly kissing it was packed so tight.

They were in the gardens. It was an Elain day, as the girls would call it, and no matter how boring or mundane her wishes were they’d be fulfilled. Nesta was propped on the floor in front of Laine, who was bunching handfuls to weave in tangled auburn coils that gathered on Nesta’s head- as a bird's nest would.

Eventually, Nesta would have to learn braids or risk knotting the curls entirely.

The eldest basked in the silence she created from mentally muting her middle sister, and spared a glance at Feyre. What she saw was not surprising, but required far more willpower than she expected to not burst into laughter and risk the flowery rat's nest on her scalp.

Feyre appeared to be so bored out of her mind she was eating discarded flowers of Elains. Actually, ingesting them, as if she was a critique. When Elain wasn’t looking at Feyre, she’d grab another couple and study them- analyzing her next experiment. Glaring at the blues and yellows as if she was speaking to them, “Which one of you will make me puke the fastest so I can run away?”

In time, Feyre looked up from her taste tests to see Nesta grinning at her so violently you’d think Feyre hung the moon.

And Feyre beamed back, crossing a pinkie across her chest and pointing it back to Nesta. Then she viciously spit out the grass she’d just finished chewing, crying directly at Laine, “This MUST stop at once, my stomach hurts far too much to continue on here.”

Elain, in a garden so quiet, simply ignored her sister's poor attempts at escape. Making Nesta work even harder to stifle the shaking of her shoulders, covering her mouth and nose before she started wheezing. Elain would hardly hurt a fly but sent Nesta a glare that could’ve easily killed a man.

Nesta cleared her throat, “I do believe there are more of the blue flowers down that hill near the pond. Would you mind getting some more for Laine?”

Feyre was already on her feet, mouthing her thanks as Elain turned her back to get the next bunch of flowers, “Why of course I will!” And with a very bad curtsey, Feyre threw off her shoes and was rolling down the hill, spinning wildly, her laughter sure to be heard in meadows far beyond theirs.

You would find the Archeron sisters all together, or never in the same place.

Laine was the easiest to find, by the waters or pond on the east side, in gardens surrounded with bugs and willows calling to the young girl. She could hardly read but if the text included any mention of colors and blooms, suddenly she was a scholar. Elain was not simple or dull, but rather a passive spirit, like a summer wind- brief, fleeting, but teeming with love and hope.

Feyre, as their mother said, was a reckless wild child. Far too young to care, far too small to be whipped into shape. If you were sent to find her and your life depended on it, may the Mother bless you. Feyre liked the kitchen, because of the immaculate food and maids who would shove any sweet down the littlest Archerons throat. But, also for the immeasurable amount of sharp items to be found in there. If it was pointy and could stab a wall or scare their ice-cold mother, Feyre would be running the halls with it in hand or making targets of her fathers old trade route maps.

Then there was Nesta, the firstborn. Molded to be another woman that she somehow couldn’t fit, as if her feet were too big or hair too long, Nesta was outgrowing the standards forged into her being. You would see her as a ghost, floating in and out of rooms, comfortable in silence and slumber, but never escaping people. She loved the maids and could recite all of their names like clockwork, and the workers loved her in turn. Always stuck in new worlds between pages or willingly dragged by the two youngers, Nesta teemed with liberation. She was often alone, but never lonely, and found new loves in the library or in the fields beyond marble confines.

Adela was constantly dissatisfied with her eldest's progress inside these walls, as if at eight she should’ve already been engaged to a prince. Granted, Adela knew better. Nesta would never truly find another kingdom to buy into when she already had a crown waiting for her elsewhere. She was known as fair and beautiful beyond her years, would age like fine wine, and become so much greater than Adela ever was. What Nesta saw as fit would normally come to be, an instinct Adela was unprepared she would inherit. Nothing left her more confused than this daughter only by blood, who was hated by both her parents for reasons far from the same, and how at less than ten years had an entire mansion wrapped around her fingers.

But Adela would wait, and simply leave them be for now. When viper's strike, they kill. And even though the Matron of the house wanted her little queen gone, she had other ways to see this through.

Anyways, children's blood on her hands would stain her diamonds.

---

Cassian

Cassian was violently fucking ill. Watching whatever the fuck that was did not help in the slightest. The second she was gone, so was he.

The General and High Lord were not on speaking terms, his presence was an obligation and not a request. When Rhys first displayed his plans, Cassian just about murdered him. Had his brother on the table in a chokehold that the Shadowsinger had to come and release Rhys from. The way his so-called family planned her exile was… horrific.

Cassian was full of light and humor, but not dull the way his family made him out to be. He could see this for what it was, punishing an already broken female for not meeting every damn need of a fully grown woman that was no longer her responsibility. Cass knew better than to downplay the sacrifices Feyre made, but he was also well aware that Nesta's habits were hardly a financial problem and more of a reputation scandal.

That’s what the High Lord did best, when his Court was breaking at the bonds, the mess would “disappear”. Just like the Illyrians hidden in the mountains, the displaced families of Spring, the homeless warriors of Night.

Cassian loved his brother, but more often than not he wondered when Fate would come to bite them in the asses for Rhys’ neglect.

Now, here he was, in his mothers' cabin, wings dragging behind him wiping tears long since shed over a woman who was thrown to the wolves and torn into so many scraps he wasn’t sure how he could put her together again.

He missed his Nesta, the one who threw glares and begged for her people, not this one who hardly spoke and caved into herself enough that she couldn’t see where she was heading.

Cassian fingered for his mug in the wooden cabinets and hit his mark, soon placing water to heat over a small fire over the counter.

He was not okay, not okay at all.

When you look for something in the dark for too long, you eventually find what you need but not always in the way you expect. Cassian coped the same as Nesta Archeron in his first years post-war. It was suffocating trying to be the happy one while dying inside. He watched men he looked up to fall and a lover he admired take her last breath- too much in far too little time. Cassian was not an idiot, he was simply perplexed. Why was he allowed to grieve in unacceptable manners, but Nesta was a sinner in holy clothing?

Bright walls and unlit rooms in the house were silent, only the winds of the mountains singing outside. The newly dusted snow wrapped the dirt in a delicate kiss- a forbidden touch. It was the peak of winter, just after Feyre’s birthday and another insufferable party.

One that Nesta wasn’t invited to.

Cassian wished he wasn’t invited either.

The cup in his hands was dwarfed in comparison to the bulky Illyrian holding it, but at least it was warm. At least it wasn’t empty.

Because if there was one thing he knew, it could always be worse.

Cassian knew that if things were a little different, he’d be the one sitting in a prison of darkness and Hell because of mistakes made as a child. He’d be exiled by family, cast away by the only living remains of a life once lived.

Nesta didn’t know but long before this he had called it even, their sins atoned for in hurting each other equally.

She was the only one in the world who could tell which smiles he was faking.

To anyone on the outside, one kiss was merely that. How curious it was, the iceberg went far deeper.

So when the mug crashed against the wall, and in its wake resembled his inner turmoil, Cassian took to the skies and found himself at the door of a place far too familiar.

AHHHHHHHH OMG OKAY hope you guys enjoyed this:) if you want to be added to the tag list let me know!

@lovemeforever12345 @champanheandluxxury @nahthanks@perseusannabeth@queenestarcheron@silvernesta

@loosingdreams@sayosdreams@audreycressworth@cyra04@that-golden-lyre@nessiantrashh@misswonderflower@dontgetsalmonella@caram267@bickbickbarnes@sabrinasam-blog

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hops-hunny · 3 years

Text

Pride Lost, Feelings Found

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: They/Them

Word Count: 2.2k

Request: @summerstardust “Could you do a Neville with a gender neutral reader. It can fluff/smut/bit of both 🤷, whatever you want. With the prompts: 4. "You think she looks at me? Am I invisible?”, 12. "I’ve always liked you, you’ve just never noticed.” and 17. "Make me fall in love with you.”

Maybe where Neville is secretly crushing on the reader from afar and the reader is told, in some way, about this and he just runs away from the scene. Then the reader follows and finds him and tells him that they want to get to know him.

Don’t feel pressured to use this idea, though. I am just feeling a bit angsty at the moment. Thank you! :)”

Summary: It all crumbles down before Neville’s eyes, but it’s replaced with something he’d never expect.

Warnings: angst but it turns to fluff!!

A/N: Ok ok, if you want a part 2 with what happens after reader says that? Lmk and I’ll probably write it! I’m so sorry this took so long esp for one of my favorite readers. I hope you enjoy <3

4. "You think she looks at me? Am I invisible?”

12. "I’ve always liked you, you’ve just never noticed.”

17. "Make me fall in love with you.”

Sometimes Neville wish he had never noticed (Y/n). But when you shine as bright as they did, how couldn't you notice? They bewitching, enchanting everyone around them with a simple smile, him included. However when miracles as amazing as (Y/n) come to be, so does a lot of attention. He adored everything about them, the way they always smeared their ink on their scroll when they wrote, how they’d walk into class every morning with that same sleepy expression, even down to the way they’d always have to pull their socks up because they got the wrong size and they’d fall down. They was his dream partner. But sadly, that’s the thing about dream lovers, they’re meant to stay dreams.

From as long as Neville could remember, he had been on the bottom of the social ladder. Hell, when your familiar (who is also a toad) causes a wild goose chase during your first years at a new school, it’s really not hard to understand why. If it had been someone else instead of him, he would've made fun of them too. He was a loser and no one would ever let him forget. Not his friends, not Malfoy, not anyone. But they did. In all his years at Hogwarts, (Y/n) had never made him feel like a loser. Every interaction the two of them had made him feel normal, like himself.

Granted every interaction they had was small. Accidentally bumping into them in the halls, a tight lip smile when eye contact was made. One time he thought (Y/n) was waving to him but was in fact waving to their friend behind him but luckily they hadn't seen (Malfoy definitely did..). Out of all the people who could have noticed the way he looked at them or the way his cheeks would turn red when they'd pass him it had to be Malloy. That was awful for a multitude of reasons. One being that for some reason, (L/n) and Malfoy were the best of friends. Everyday he wished that it was him who got sat next to them in potions instead of that weasel of a boy. The second reason being that despite knowing how Neville felt for them, he still had yet to do anything with the information. To most people, they’d be relieved if Malfoy found out one of their most personal pieces of information and had yet to do anything but, Neville knew better. Draco was a vile creature and if he hadn’t teased him about it yet, that surely meant something even greater was coming. Something truly awful and devastating.

The first week after Malfoy found out had Neville staying up to the break of dawn, stirring around restlessly at the thought of what he’d do. Would he spill something on him when he was set to have a class with them, tape a note to the back of his shirt with the information on it, or worse...no, no. Not even Malfoy was cruel enough to do that! If anything, if he was going to tell (Y/n) he’d probably do it when Neville wasn’t around so they could come up to him and reject him at random. Although it was sad, what got Neville to sleep at night was imagining that they already knew. That (Y/n) was more than aware and it was only a matter of time till they’d reject him and his life would go back to normal without any pesky thoughts of how beautiful he found them to be.

--------------------------------

Seamus’s words went in one of Neville’s ears and right back out of the other, sounding like white noise to the boy. He couldn’t listen to whatever idiotic thing he was going on about. How could he when (Y/n) was a few feet away, looking just as gorgeous as they usually did? It was hard not to focus on them, the way their pretty lips would curl into a smile, giggling at something one of their friends had said. He felt a smile grace his own lips at the sight, letting out a noise of protest as Ron chucked a cushion at his head.

“Are you even, listening Longbottom?” he heard him ask, still not ripping his eyes away from the (y/h/h) across the hall.

“You think they look at me? Am I invisible?” he asked in a hushed tone, as if he was to speak any louder, they would somehow hear them despite them being so far away. Seamus let out a loud snort, beginning to cackle as he slapped the boy on the back a bit too hard.

“Fat chance, Longbottom! You think (L/n) would notice you? They wouldn’t even notice me, and that’s saying something!” Seamus wheezed out. Neville shot him a pointed glare, fuming from the boy’s words. He shoved him off the couch, rolling his eyes.

“It’s not that people don’t notice you Seamus….it’s that they do for all the wrong reasons.” Dean pointed out, causing the other 3 to laugh, growing louder as Seamus failed to push himself off the ground.

“Oh don’t worry, Longbottom. (L/n) will be sure to notice you soon enough.” he froze at the sound of the cold voice, turning around to look at the platinum blonde prince himself. Draco stood their, smirking. Crabbe and Goyle tried to nod along when in reality, they had no idea what their leader was going on about. Neville gulped, standing up to face him completely.

“W-what do you mean?” he asked him, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. Draco simply shrugged, beginning to walk in the opposite direction. He turned around briefly looking the boy up and down.

“Means exactly what I said. Nothing more, nothing less. Well as much as I’d love to stay around and lose brain cells with you idiots, I’ve got better things to attend to.” and with that he left.

“Don’t worry, Nev. Draco is always just talk, I’m sure nothing will come of it.” Harry said, offering the boy a reassuring smile. Although Neville knew he meant well, he couldn’t stop the sinking, tight feeling in his chest. Draco had yet to do something so he had no reason to feel this way, but it was just a hunch that the worst was yet to come.

Even hours later, as Neville lay in his bed that night, all he could think about were the words that echoed throughout his head over and over.

“Oh don’t worry, Longbottom. (L/n) will be sure to notice you soon enough.”

He didn’t know if he was grateful for how vague that was or if it was the bane of his days. Draco could’ve meant anything by that, all he knew is whatever it meant the intent behind his words were less than kind. He turned again, sighing as he looked out the window. There was a full moon tonight, a beautiful silver halo of light dancing its way around it.

“Merlin, save me please.” he pleaded quietly, to no one in particular. Every bit of hope, every positive thought laced in his words. Although he prepared for the worse to happen, he had a sliver of hope that it wouldn’t. That tomorrow he’d wake up and his day would be as mundane as usual, just the way he’d like it. And if he was lucky (Y/n) would give him a small smile in the hall.

---------------------------

Neville’s small sliver of hope had grown into an entire cake. Looking back on earlier in the week, he was worried for absolutely nothing! Malfoy once again was all bark and no bite which for once, he was glad for! He let out a sigh of content as he made his way from the library, heading in the direction of the main corridor. He saw Seamus give him an uncharacteristically serious look from the small crowd that was gathered around something. As he grew closer, in the middle of the circle he saw Draco stood on a crate as (Y/n) sat next to him, listening as he read something from a paper.

“Nev, you might wanna...might wanna leave.” Seamus whispered to him. However, he looked as people stared at him, some giggling while some look sympathetic.

“Why? What’s going o-”

“Here’s another one I found in his bin! ‘Dear (Y/n), although I’ll never give you this letter, I can’t help but write about how amazing you are! When I saw you help that injured bird the other day, I wanted nothing more than to help you tend to it. I find it funny how even when you’re sad, you manage to brighten up my day.’ God how dorky is this loser? I can’t believe he fancies you so much (Y/n)!” Draco howled in laughter, a few others joining him. Neville found himself at the forefront of the circle, frozen in his spot. That was his letter! He had started writing them as a way of coping with his feelings, knowing that the person he fancied would always be out of reach of him. “Anything to say for yourself, Longbottom?”

Neville felt tears well in his eyes, the warmth of them mixing with the heat of his red flushed face. “I...I..” he looked at (Y/n) who look like they had something to say however, he didn’t wanna stick around to hear it. Without another word, he ran off, tears streaming down his face as soon as he was far enough from anyone. In his time of despair, he ran to his only place of comfort. The one place that he wasn’t Neville, the loser who just had his feelings ripped from safe keeping in front of half the students in his year. The place where he was just Neville.

He took in a deep breath of the familiar muggy air of the greenhouse, relaxing slightly as he took a seat on the ground. “God I’m so stupid!” he wailed, tears flowing down his face. His crying grew harder, harsh hiccups shaking and jolting his body as he screamed into his knees. He knew there was a matter of time before (Y/n) was to find out, he just didn’t know it’d be like this. If this was just the pain from them learning about his feelings, he didn’t wanna know how bad he’d be wounded when they came to reject him. Neville’s head jolted up at the sound of soft footsteps making their way over to him. He noticed the familiar pair of black shoes, turning his head as they kneeled down in front of him.

“I thought you may be here! You always seemed so passionate about plants during herbology so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to check here first.” (Y/n) said, placing a hand on the boy’s knee. He looked down at where they connected, feeling his face flush slightly from the contact. “You know, your friends care about you a lot. After you ran off, Ginny came up and socked Draco straight in the face. It was quite a sight really.” they let out a soft giggle at the memory. “Hermione went in to drag her off but when she saw how smug Draco looked, she couldn’t help but to join in. While they did that, your other friends set off looking for you and I did too.”

“Why?” he asked, catching their attention. The (y/h/h) gave him a confused look, tilting their head to the side. “Why did you come looking for me? Don’t you hate me now? Gross, stupid Longbottom having a crush on Hogwart’s sweetheart. How pathetic, huh?” he sniffled, ripping his eyes away from them. He knew if he was to continue to look, a completely new set of tears would be triggered.

“Why wouldn’t I? I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t! Although I don’t know much about you, I do know you’re a kind individual and you didn’t deserve what Draco did to you.” they said in a soft tone, moving into the spot next to Neville. They sat in silence for a moment before (Y/n) cleared their throat, looking over at him once more. “How long?”

“Pardon?”

“I mean, how long have you liked me for? I wasn’t even aware until today.” they queried curiously.

“I’ve always liked you, you’ve just never noticed. I don’t blame you for not noticing though, we’re from two different worlds. You’ve got everyone in hogwarts begging for a moment of your time and you hang out with some of the most elite and prestigious people in the castle.” he sniffled some, wiping his nose on his sleeve as he set his hand down on the cold cement ground. “It was stupid of me to let my feelings last for so long.”

“Why was it stupid?” they asked, scooting closer to him. Neville turned to look at them, losing his breath at their closeness.

“Because you don’t feel the same..not that I expected you to. You didn’t even know I existed until today.” he let out a huff of air. (Y/n) bit the inside of their cheek before placing their hand on top of Neville’s, tangling their fingers together.

“You’re right, I don’t feel the same,” they started, tightening their grip as the boy began to get up. “But that doesn’t mean I never will. Let’s get to know each other a bit more.” they leaned in closer, the feeling of both of their breath being exchanged like whispers amongst their lips.

“Make me fall in love with you.”

TAGSLIST:@vayeya11 @pink-hufflepuff @clancyscookies @beewitchedlou

@nevillelongbottomsgirlfriend @redpanda-poetry @vibingaesthetically

#Neville Longbottom #neville x you #neville longbottom x you #neville longbottom x reader #neville x reader #Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

Text

And I Will Hold Onto You

Summary: They’ve never been apart for holidays since they started dating. That was until Spencer Reid found himself behind bars for a crime he’d never think of committing. Growing and healing, Spencer realizes that it’s not the holidays that matter, it’s the person. Because with that special person, who’s laugh he can recognize anywhere, even cleaning up the empty bottle the next morning is magical.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Author’s Note/Warnings: Body Image Issues (Male) nothing too descriptive, prison arc is mentioned/is central issue; loosely based of New Year’s Day by Taylor Swift

Also this is technically a part 2 to Drag Me Head First but it doesn’t have to be read that way.

And I Will Hold Onto You

There’s something special in the way that the first midnight of the new year feels. All that hopefulness and excitement packed into a 10 second countdown. The energy in the room slowly bubbles up, culminating as the ball drops. It fizzles out as loved ones share chaste kisses and friends hug. But all that remains are last year’s bottles and this year’s dreams. Maybe it’s something that Spencer always took for granted.

The cold midnight air is jarring, compared to his warm and cozy house. Spencer walks quickly, taking out the trash, filled with bottles of beer and wine. The snow crunches under his shoes and Spencer can see his breath in the air as he huffs to toss the bag in the black trash bin. Spencer, despite the way the cold air nips his nose, stops in his tracks and gazes up at the stars. It’s unfortunate living where he does, you can never really see all the stars. Maybe Y/N would like to take a trip in their cabin the next time he can get off? He could show her all the stars. But Spencer doesn’t need to go to the middle of the woods to see the stars; he can simply look into Y/N’s eyes and see all the magic the universe has to offer.

Spencer lets himself back into his house, just as Garcia and Derek are putting their shoes and coats on to leave. Y/N comes out of the kitchen carrying two trays of leftover food for their friends to take home.

“Penny, please kiss those sweet babies for me,” Y/N says, handing Luke the trays of food. She leans over to kiss Penelope on her cheek.

“They can only sweet when they are sleeping,” Penelope says, rolling her eyes and putting her coat on. It’s more of a cape in a spectacular plum purple color with cream colored faux fur trim.

“Don’t act so surprised, mi amor, look who their mother is,” Luke says, cheekily. He hugs Spencer and Y/N before grabbing Garcia’s hand with his empty one.

“Happy New Year!” Garcia and Luke call as they leave, shutting the door behind them. Spencer locks the door and heads back to the kitchen to help Y/N clean up. The plates sit in the sink piled high, with tall champagne glasses resting next to them on the counter. Glitter scatters on the floor, confetti in the shapes of “1s” and “6” lay littered on the tiles, remnants of the festivities just moments before.

Y/N stands over the sink, her hand rests on the ledge. She turns on the water and starts washing the dishes. Spencer walks up quietly behind her, nuzzling his hand into the corner of her ear and shoulder. He hums, the vibrations echoing into Y/N’s neck, causing her to giggle. He joins his hands together around Y/N’s waist, holding her tight.

“Happy New Year, my love,” Spencer whispers, his voice hardly audible above the stream of water. Even though Spencer can’t see Y/N, he can feel the way her cheeks grow against the side of his head. She’s smiling.

“It is a very happy, new year,” Y/N says, her voice strong, yet Spencer can tell it’s hard for her to keep it together. It’s not their first new year, far from it, it’s their 13th. But this time, it feels different to hold her in his arms and kiss her as the clock strikes 12.

They wash the dishes in silence, a comforting silence where certain things don’t need to be said. Like a well oiled machine, Y/N washes, Spencer dries. The sudsy dish soap smells like home and Y/N’s quiet hums sound like peace. Spencer really forgot how much he could love even the most mundane of tasks when Y/N stands next to him.

“Come on, Y/N we can do this tomorrow. Let’s just go to bed,” Spencer says, tugging on Y/N’s long sleeve of her thermal shirt.

“Hmm, I can’t argue against your cuddles, sweetheart,” Y/N murmurs tiredly, easily pushing the thoughts of clean up to the next morning. Her hand joins his, like a key finding it’s matching lock. They are cold from the water, but Spencer doesn’t really mind.

A tangle of limbs and hands, they make their way up the stairs to their shared bedroom. They pass the wall filled with pictures of their smiling faces or candid countenances in mismatching frames hung against the wall. It’s just a testament to how long they’ve been together, going back to their first date right before Y/N’s college graduation and Spencer’s fifth, leading up to their most recent Halloween. Each photo stuck in time, frozen with utter happiness and unadulterated joy. But there’s a gap in the collection, a gap that Spencer rather not talk about. A gap where, for the first time since they met, Spencer and Y/N were separated. Sitting in jail, all Spencer could think of was the personal mental prison that Y/N must have confined herself too.

They don’t like talking about the gap, but he knows they have too. Spencer knows that Y/N is proud of him, she tells him that everyday. Proud of him for keeping up with therapy, proud of him for letting go of the little things that he can’t control, proud of him for trusting her with his secrets and fears. It’s the strangest thing, to have someone be proud of you for just living.

“We’re going to need a bigger wall,” Spencer says, hoping that his attempt at referencing pop culture would land. Y/N stops to turn to Spencer, who in the moonlight that drips in from the window, looks much younger than he really is.

“Did you just make a pop culture reference that’s not from, like, 300 years ago?” Y/N says, her brow upturned in a quizzical stare.

“Come on, Y/N, you love when I recite all Sir Walter Raleigh to you,” Spencer says, reaching up to tickle Y/N sides, causing her to giggle and run up the rest of the stairs.

“Spencer! You know that I’m too ticklish,” Y/N says in between short laughs and gasps for air. She plops down on the bed, dragging Spencer down with her. He lays his head down on her chest and like a Rube Goldberg machine, her fingers come up and tangle themselves in his hair.

“Maybe our New Year’s Resolution should be to get some more exercise, Spence. Your heart is beating faster than mine and that run from the steps to our room is like a good 10 feet,” Y/N jokes as she continues scratching Spencer’s scalp lulling him into a peaceful, sleepy state.

“Two things, baby, one, we don’t exercise and two, that’s not why my heart is beating so fast, I think it has something to do with the beautiful girl laying so close to me,” Spencer murmurs quietly.

“Hmm, you certainly know how to charm a girl, even like 13 years later,”

“Actually it’s, 13 years, 7 months, 17 days, 17 hours, 58 minutes and 31 seconds,” Spencer says with a quick glance at his watch.

“And I’ve loved every single minute of it,” Y/N says, reaching up to sneak a pillow under Spencer’s head. She moves to get out of bed, much to Spencer’s displeasure.

“No, no, Y/N you’re so warm and I’m freezing,” Spencer whines, shifting so he can look at his wife, who has shrugged off her thermal shirt and jeans.

“And who’s fault is that?” Y/N chides. Spencer, almost bashful at her teasing, attempts to hide his blush with the pillow that rests under his head.

“I only turn the heat all the way down at night so we’re forced to cuddle for body heat,” Spencer says, his voice muffled by the pillow.

“So you say,” Y/N tells Spencer, sitting down back on the bed. She pulls on Spencer’s legs, dragging him down the bed.

“Come on lazy boy, get your PJs on,” Y/N orders. Spencer, who under Penelope’s less than pure supervision, had enough shots to make up for all the college parties that he missed. There’s happy drunks, forgetful drunks, and then there're sleepy drunks.

Spencer stands in front of the mirror, inspecting his body. The low, yellow lamp light casts shadows on his naked torso. He’s filled out a little bit since they’ve started dating, especially within the last few months of Spencer’s healing. Y/N knew that it’s a sore spot for him, but there’s something about the way that Spencer’s dress pants sit tightly against his thighs or the way his shirt clings to his stomach that just makes him look so much older. Both of them, including their bodies, have changed so much since 13 years ago. Or 13 years, 7 months, 17 days, 18 hours, 5 minutes and 12 seconds ago. They’ve grown up together, and now Y/N can’t wait to grow old together.

But the look in his eyes is not pride over his growth or confidence over his physique. It’s confusion. Spencer stares at himself like he’s an unsolvable puzzle. Y/N knows he must hate that; Spencer hates things that he can’t find an answer to. Y/N walks up behind him, lacing her finger together so her arms clasp against his waist. For a moment, Spencer flinches. Even her gentlest touches and softest kisses can’t wash away the fear of much harsher contact. Their eyes meet in the mirror, but Y/N can feel that Spencer’s not looking at her. After all these years, she can still see the terrified young man who brazenly kissed her in her car in the middle of a rainstorm. After all these years, Spencer is still the only man she ever loved.

“Spencer,” Y/N says quietly. His name off her lips is more tender than any pet name in existence.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m being immature, it’s just,” Spencer closes his eyes, trying to focus himself in the present. It’s something that his therapist suggested. In moments of distress, find your anchor. Luckily for Spencer, his anchor has been his anchor for quite awhile.

“You can tell, I’m not going to judge you,” Y/N says, her lips leaving small kisses on his exposed shoulders.

“It’s just I thought this whole nightmare of prison was behind me. Therapy has been helping, I’m better on cases and I love teaching,” Spencer says, the pain in his voice leaking out.

Y/N doesn’t say anything, instead she guides Spencer to sit on the edge of their bed. She rubs her hand down his back, tracing his spine and around the freckles that collect on his right shoulder.

“I thought that the emotional healing would be the hardest part, I mean it is, but physically, I don’t recognize myself. I can imagine you don’t either,” Spencer says, he turns to lay on the bed, bringing his feet up to his chest in a textbook self-protective position.

“Spence, your body is gonna change, baby. God, mine has changed so much since we met,” Spencer gives Y/N a confused look, like he’s not thoroughly convinced by her explanation.

“It has Spencer. We’re not 22 years old anymore, we’re going to be like 35 in a couple of months. But you know, this is something we can work on together, I’ve gone my whole life not loving the skin I’m in. But being with you makes it easier, Spence.” Y/N says, running her fingers across the bridge of Spencer’s nose and down to his lips, that always a ridiculously gorgeous shade of pink. Spencer doesn’t say much, he’s still trapped deep inside his mind.

“I don’t know how you put up with me and all my antics, Y/N”

“You do my taxes every year,” Y/N jokes, making an effort to kiss every freckle and dipple on the expanse of Spencer’s back.

Spencer turns in the bed so he’s facing Y/N, he cups her face all the way from her ear to her jaw. It’s an intimate gesture that somehow is more loving and vulnerable than saying “I love you,”

“You know you make me fearless, Y/N,” Spencer tells her, not blinking because he doesn’t want to miss out on any more time looking into her eyes.

“You say that everyday Spencer Reid,” Y/N responds, letting herself melt into the touch. She grabs onto his wrist, physically telling him to not let go.

“I have a lot of days to make up for,” Spencer says, solemnly.

“It’s not making it up if it’s the rest of our life, Spencer. Besides, there’s no one I’d rather spend New Year’s Day cleaning up all those bottles with,”

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youarejesting · 4 years

Text

Jinnie

[MASTERLIST] Beta: @hoebii Pairing: Jin x Reader Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Comedy, Mystery, Angst, Adventure. Rating: All Words: 11.3k

Summary: Jin is a genie, who as folklore warns trick humans, to get their souls. He twists their words and taunts around into actual wishes to be used against them if it is phrased properly. But as a law student you are careful with your words and beat him at his own game.

Stepping out of 5330LAW ‘Wrongful Conviction: Journeys to Freedom’ you rubbed your temples, trying to ease the pain coursing behind them. It was like your brain had just been filled with wood chips and the sharp edges were trying to dig their way back out. How could learning hurt you so bad? There were so many dates, legislations, different clauses, and terms that you had to memorize- BUT, you forced yourself to move your thought process along.That would all have to wait.

You would rather not think ever again, so you rushed off to the little convenience store where you spent the night scanning products and taking money. You were like a robot repeating a script over and over.

“Welcome” “Can I help you?” “Just these items today?” “That will be twelve forty, on the card?” “Whenever you are ready” “Have a nice day”

It was easy. You happily lost yourself in those mundane tasks whilst standing there and growing bored. Suppressing a yawn, you cleaned the floors, tidied, and restocked the shelves. Eagerly counting down the final hour until you could go home and take a nap. While cleaning you had cut your hand on the plastic shelf display, quickly purchasing an antiseptic cream to cover the injury, it was the only thing that stood out about your shift today. Or so you thought.

Counting the till slowly you allowed for a few last-minute customers to come in and purchase what they needed. Most paid by the card so it wouldn’t ruin your count. They bought alcohol and snacks and other little things one might need. When it was finally time to close up, you headed around the counter walking towards the door ready to flip the sign from OPEN to CLOSED. As well as turning off the little neon ‘OPEN’ sign on the window.

Leaning down you reached for the plug, fingers so close to the switch ready to turn it off, you stretched down a little more, smiling triumphantly when you flicked the switch when the bell above the door rang a man ran in painting. “Excuse me miss,”

Ah! This is why you didn’t close off the till until the door was locked, allowing people to buy things last minute, if they needed something urgently. The amount of single parents who need baby wipes that barge into the store last minute was more than you could count.

“Good evening Sir, What can I help you with?”

“Please take this and make a wish?” He spoke, voice panicked as he kept nervously looking over his shoulder, “It is the lamp of a genie, it will grant you one wish, but you have to use it now”

Without a chance to refuse, the lamp was thrust into your hands. You stared at the beautiful gold and ruby lamp. This looked expensive and you wanted to refuse but the man had already started hiding behind the fridges. There was a bright flash of light coming from the street as a figure appeared outside on the sidewalk. The figure was quick, pushing open the door and practically gliding across the room where he grabbed the man.

You heard the man scream and you couldn’t help but run away in fear. You got into your car shaking, throwing everything on the passenger seat. Your breathing was shallow and erratic as you drove away as fast as you could, the adrenaline quickening your reflexes and keeping you alert to the road ahead.

When you got to your apartments, you scooped everything into your arms and ran up the stairs and along the corridor until you reached your door, your breathing wasn’t coming any easier and the pain in your chest was so sharp you felt like you were going to pass out. Fumbling with keys trying to find the right one for the door, the next-door neighbor started shouting about the ruckus you were making running in the hallways. It wasn’t until you were successfully inside the safety of your home that your breathing slowed down. That’s when you noticed the fancy lamp in your hands.

It looked like real gold, it looked like real jewels, did the man steal it and try to hide it with you, did the other man that showed up kill him. There were so many questions and you didn’t know what to do, so you ran out to the hall and threw it down the garbage shoot, hoping no one came for you.

Sleep didn’t come easy, you felt like there was someone on your balcony or someone walking down the hall, and every time you closed your eyes you saw this horrible-looking man. His eyes were dark and his skin was like Ash. Though you hadn’t seen any specific features your mind conjured the creepiest man; with a pointed hooked nose and a narrow protruding chin. You had seen his hands which were boney and each finger bent a little oddly like they weren’t natural human joints.

Deciding around midnight to study and use the time not sleeping wisely, you were well into the third chapter of the night when you finally dozed off, the textbook still opened.. Waking the next morning to a call you jerked awake, heart racing from the fright. Still adorning your uniform, you lunge across the floor to your bag where you heard your phone ringing. It was a stupid ringtone. From the floor you could see the gold lamp gleaming on the kitchen tiles and remembered the events of that night. Looking at the phone you saw the caller ID and groaned. It was your boss and you did not want to work. It was your first day off in two weeks and you were wanting to do some cleaning school work and chill out.

That and any thought regarding the shop had the barely repressed memories clawing at the edges of your mind. You had decided it was obviously a prank and two people were joking around. Reluctantly you cleared your throat before answering, sitting up straight and rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Hello, this is Y/n speaking,” You said politely and waited to hear what the store owner had to say with your fingers crossed. He was a nice guy and you knew it was stressful for him to have to fill shifts as the younger employees tended to take multiple days off in a week but you were really in need of this free day.

“Hey Y/n, it is Choi,” He said his voice seemed a little stressed but also slightly amused and you felt your shoulders slacken, “I was wondering if you could see me this morning in about half an hour?”

“Of course, I will be there in fifteen minutes,” You replied, getting changed and retying your hair in a bun before racing out the door. You drove to the shop and began planning your chores for the day. When you get home you would have to do your laundry and then sit and try to get a start on more assignments and essays. You were feeling really productive after reading from your textbook last night.

The boss wasn’t asking you to work today so it must be about something else, you frowned pulling into a parking space outside the store. What if he is going to fire you? No, you were one of the best and most experienced, also the only one he trusts to lock up the shop.

The shop.

Oh hell. Last night you left those two wannabe psychopaths in the store, they could have stolen anything. If you were fired today you were going to have a breakdown. What if that weird guy had actually killed the other man, he had seemed so panicked and you just locked them in and left.

Taking a deep breath you stepped out of the car and strode into the store, bracing yourself for the worst, like to see the cash register ripped from the counter and snacks and shelves raided for free products. What you didn’t expect was the man to be sitting at a table being served coffee from the boss.

He was handsome. He was looking at the owner who was talking adamantly about compensating for something, the bell on the door had alerted the young handsome man of your arrival, his eyes flickering to you. They were so beautiful, a dark caramel and his lips pulled up into a soft smirk as he looked you over. He took a sip of his coffee to repress the smile and you looked away feeling your heart speeding up and your face flushing.

He was very handsome, unlike anyone you had ever seen. Better than any idol, he didn’t look human and you were feeling the adrenaline starting to pump through your veins, your fight or flight was prompted last time by the man’s scream and you had run away. However, this time was different. Your flight was to just freeze up and pretend you were dead like a possum.

“Ah, you are here,” Choi smiled and walked over to you and led you out the back of the shop where he had a small office/staff room which was beside a small bathroom. The boss walked you inside and explained that you had accidentally locked the handsome young man inside alone for the entire night. “We are lucky he is an honest man who said he didn’t touch anything all night but sat and waited for someone to come and open the store.

“He what?” You said, confused this man had been locked in because he was trying to kill another man, did you forget, maybe it was lack of sleep that made you see things. You had heard that stress and not enough sleep leads to hallucinations. Had you thought it all up and locked an innocent man in the shop?

No. If he was truly innocent he wouldn’t look at you like that, like he knew you, like he knew how much he scared you, like he knew you were confused about the other man and where he had gone. He knew what he was doing. You didn’t trust him and he left a sour taste in your mouth.

The boss told you, that they were lucky he wasn’t pressing charges and that he was thankful you were not hurt, “I thought that maybe this man had done something to you last night, the closing was in shambles”

“Yeah, I think lack of sleep got to me,” You admitted your cheeks flushing in embarrassment, if this was all in your head, you must be in need of a long night’s rest. You looked at the old man and touched his shoulder, “Thank you for thinking of me, I am so sorry this happened, I will go apologize to the customer and head home and rest.”

“Wait, did you check the footage?” You asked the owner, his old eyes looked up at you as he rubbed his face, pushing his wrinkles around his face with equally pruney fingers. You almost cringed at how stretchy his skin looked.

“I can bring it up,” He said and brought up the footage from last night. You could see the door open but there was no one there and you were surprised that you were looking and talking to no one. That was suspicious, had you actually imagined it all and locked up some poor young man last night?

Walking through the aisles you saw him leaning back in the seat and you sighed, “Are you okay? I am so sorry, that I had locked you in, I haven’t been sleeping well and I think I had a moment when I started seeing things. I thought you were a murderer and was killing someone, that’s why I locked the door and ran.”

The young man threw his head back and laughed, you almost spat your drink at him. What was that laugh? It was dorky and sounded like a broken squeaky toy, you couldn’t help but laugh as well in surprise.

“That explains why you ran and locked me in,” He wiped his nonexistent tears from his laughing and smiled at you, his teeth looked so white and perfect it made you feel self-conscious. He touched your arm and your breath hitched, “I am sorry, I frightened you, but I promise you, you can check the footage, I was the only one who came in last night.”

“No, it wasn’t your fault” You blushed again laughing and shaking your head, “I must have gone crazy”

You were happy that he didn’t seem angry at all, if anything he seemed really charming, he brushed his fingers along your arm soothingly. “You do look like you need some sleep, Would you like me to drive you home?”

“Uh... no, it’s okay” You waved your hands in protest, “Thank you for thinking of me, but I think I will be fine”

He took your hands in both of his and leaned in, you were struggling to breathe, why was this brunette bombshell so forward, “If there is anything you need, I am happy to help or even just listen. He reached behind his back and brought his hand back with a card and grinned, “My card, call if you ever get scared, or when you are tired. Imagination can make you see the scariest things.”

He held out the card and you noticed his fingers were bent strangely and you starred, “Ah, it’s a medical condition, they are called swan neck fingers, they are pretty weird aren’t they?”

“No sorry, I was just thinking about what I saw last night, you aren’t what I remember but then again I was so scared I think I imagined you more like a monster.” You laughed and he rubbed the back of his neck with a small laugh.

“Speaking of last night, have you seen a small watering can, it was a shiny yellow metal and had red polka dots on it.” He smiled but this was different, heavier, his eyes weighed you down, it was like you were being squished and your heart thumped in your chest as if repeating a mantra. Run, Run, Run.

“A watering can?” You asked leaning away from him in your seat but the back stopped you from going as far as you wanted, “I don’t remember a watering can, I am sorry, But I can keep an eye out for it.”

His grin split huge and unnatural and you knew. You knew that he knew. You were lying to him. He could tell and he liked it, he licked his lips watching you get out of your seat and talk about your pending chores calling you.

As you walked out of the shop you could feel his gaze on you and tried to stop yourself from shivering. You failed and when you opened the car door you looked at the window and saw him laughing.

You could practically hear the squeaky sound that didn’t fit the refined face. You drove home, stopping in the underground parking lot you looked at the business card he had given you and scoffed, scrunching the paper and throwing it onto the floor.

You froze there was a feeling like someone was watching you and from the corner of your eye you saw something in the rearview mirror and when you looked up you thought you saw his clothes pass the back of the car but when you turned you saw the old man from the apartment next door was there knocking on the window.

“The bins are for average household garbage only, not furniture, not metals or glass, I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t fill the garbage with your cheap metal figurine. That and last night it hit the walls of the disposal shoot on the way down making a clatter, try to keep it down.”

“Sorry, Mr Choi, I had a bad night last night, I was almost killed at work, I was scared” You admitted trying to get his sympathy, he faltered and nodded before walking away, leaving the conversation as it was.

You were standing there with the lamp in your hands and with a frown you hurried into the elevator and into your apartment. From the safety of your home, the tension in your shoulders relaxed. Taking out a pen and paper, before quickly jotting down the evidence and the memories you had. You knew it wasn’t a plausible case and wouldn’t stand in court. The evidence against you would tear your whole case into pieces and it made you mad.

You took the crumpled business card from your pocket and opened it reading the name “Kim Seokjin,” You started an online search of the name and the business but nothing appeared, you decided to ring him. Taking your phone from your pocket you hesitated to dial the numbers, getting up you punched in the numbers with determination wilting when it came to pressing the green call button.

“Come on, he is just a guy, albeit really attractive and charming and probably a murder psycho who probably eats people” You were shaking something about calling him made you nervous, and amongst your arguing, you had accidentally bumped the call button. Placing the phone up to your ear it began speaking.

“Sorry. The number you have dialed is no longer available. Please check the number and try again.”

“Oh thank gosh,” You sighed relieved only to squeal and throw your phone in response to a sharp knock at the door. You stood there frozen in fear as the knock occurred again. Slowly shuffled over quietly, your socks muting each step as you peered outside through the peephole. When you looked you squealed again clutching your chest. Two very familiar faces were almost pressed to the door staring back at you a little distorted. Throwing the door open you practically shrieked.

“Kim Namsoon don’t you dare do that again I almost had a heart attack, Yoonji you should know better, get in here.” You grabbed them by the jackets and pulled the two girls inside, they chuckled brandishing a bag of snacks. It wasn’t long before you were revealing all the little details of the incident that occured in the shop. You told them everything that happened hypothetically of course.

“Easy, if I was handed a lamp from a random guy on the street and told to make a wish, I would make a wish?” Yoonji shrugged.

“Well, that depends. Hypothetically, if genies were real you have a few options classic folklore genies or djinn’s are beings who snatch souls, they claim they can grant a wish but say you said I want to be rich for as long as I live, then they will hand you money and kill you instantly because you were rich until the moment you died which means that was all of your life.”

You nodded glad that Namsoon was smart and well versed in all different genres of books fiction and otherwise. She twirled her hair thinking.

“Your choice of words would have to be specific otherwise they can use different interpretations of the words and bend the wish to their benefit. You ask for a million dollars, they might give you Monopoly money.”

“I see, that would be annoying” Yoonji huffed, arms crossing over her chest as she began thinking over her wish if she had a genie.

“Also not to say they wouldn’t make your life miserable with your wishes, you ask to be popular or the centre of attention and you will never have a moment of peace, even the wishes they do well are so over the top it is torture”

“How would you trick a genie, while still getting the reward?”

“You would have to think of a really good wish.” Namsoon said with a small sigh, “but I don’t know how you would do it.”

The three of you watched a few movies and devoured an almost embarrassing amount of snacks. You managed to finish all your washing and after lunch Namsoon and Yoonji decided to leave you for your school work. Waving them off at the door, you had decided that whatever happened last night was all in your head. The coffee table doubled as your work area, so it needed to be cleaned before you could even think about studying. Amongst the rubbish you saw Yoonji’s headphones.

A Lazy knock at the door made you smile, that would be her. Scooping the treasured device of one of your closest friends and heading to the door. “I got them, I know you can’t live without them Yoo~oooooooou”

You physically jumped back at the sight of him standing there, your body locking up. Yet he smiled as if it meant nothing. As if he was just standing at a bus stop, not like he had somehow found out where you lived got through the security system of the apartment block and found your door.

“Ah hello,” You breathed the words like you were deflating.

“Good evening, Miss y/n, how are you this evening?” His smile brightened flashing his shiny Colgate grin, he gave you no time to think as he reached out, was this the end. You scrunch your eyes but felt him touch your hair, peeking an eye open he took a piece of fluff from your hair. He looked at it between his fingers for a moment before blowing it away.

Something woke in you as you slammed the door in his face and locked it. Backing away nervously, you decided to call the police. You turned your back on the door and ran for your phone instead slamming nose first into a broad chest. There he was, in your house, your safe place from the world. You flailed back, tripping over nothing and falling onto your behind.

“How did you get in?” You accused from the floor

He smiled striding over and squatting beside you, holding out his hand. “Your friends let me in,” you shivered. How did he know they were your friends. This guy was beautiful but he was starting to scare you. There was something about his calm nonchalant way of his words that made it seem worse.

“Okay, is there something you needed? Or can I get back to my work now.” You asked ignoring his helping hand, you stood up and turned to him crossing your arms across your chest. You saw him still in the same position, hand outstretched, his smile had fallen and his face was dark. He didn’t like how you ignored his hospitality you could tell as his eye twitched in annoyance, and his fingers curled up.

Standing he brushed his hands on his pants and gave you another sweet smile, “Is there anything you need?”

“What if there is nothing I need?” You asked defensively, trying to get him to tell you why he was here, was he a genie from the strange lamp you had been given the other night or were you going crazy and he was just a murderer. Whatever it is, you wanted him to leave you alone.

“Everyone needs something, you’re humans, you always need something.” He scoffed and you pointed at him with an Aha!

“So you admit you aren’t human?” You accused, watching him walk over towards your kitchen and sit atop the bench throwing one leg over the other and intertwining his fingers together atop his lap.

His smirk grew again in that creepy way, “what would o be if not a human?”

“You are a genie aren’t you?”

“Gold star human, Genie is one of my names but I go by Jin J-I-N” He spelt it with his finger and the letters appeared in a pink font, like something in the harry potter movie, his name didn’t form any pseudonyms. Instead he batted the word away and it disappeared in a light pink dust. “What can I do for you, human? You can wish for anything. Choose carefully, I can get you anything you have ever desired. But I have limitations, You only get three wishes and you can’t wish for more. Other than that, have fun.”

“Wait that’s it?” You asked confused and he looked taken aback that you weren’t jumping on the chance to make wishes.

“What do you mean?” He scoffed jumping down from the bench, “Yes that is it, but why are you worried about the conditions when you just have to make a wish. I can make you beautiful or rich or have everyone love you, you just have to clearly say ‘I wish’ before you ask”

“I don’t want that,” You walked away and sat on the couch turning on the tv, “I am already beautiful and I make enough money, and I am nice so the right people like me.”

“Look you have to wish for three things and then I can move on,” He said, standing in front of the television and you sighed.

“But what is the catch, what do you get in return for granting wishes?” You asked him curious and he looked away for a moment before heading over to you in quick strides dropping to his knees and holding your hands while you leaned back on the couch stunned by his sudden forwardness.

“This is my job,” He said sincerely and you knew he was hiding a major clause in his deal.

“I will think about the deal, and I will call you when the time comes” You said with “Close the door on the way out”

“Fine! Where is my lamp?” Jin asked, you didn’t let your eyes stray from the television as you answered.

“You mean the metal teapot thing, I threw it down the garbage disposal, Why?” You feigned shock, “Oh no, was it really gold and rubies?”

“Yes it is real,” He exclaimed horrified, you held your ground knowing the real thing was in your dresser, but you weren’t going to tell him that. He seemed to try to calm himself down asking in a clipped tone, “Where is it?”

“I told you I threw it out, it would be crushed into scrap metal by now the bins are emptied overnight.” He looked like he was going to scream, his body flailing as he began shouting in a language you didn’t understand, whilst pacing smoke literally poured from his ears. “How was I supposed to know, just lay down on the couch”

He huffed, reluctantly crossing the room and flopping onto the couch, practically kicking you off when he outstretched his long legs. You decided to forfeit the cushioned seat and slide onto the floor, losing yourself in you studies. Admittedly it was difficult to relax having a stranger in your house lounging on your couch behind you. But, you were more interested in observing him, so you feigned indifference and let him watch television.

Part way through your essay you heard a growl tensing once more, you had almost forgotten he was there. Turning to the offending noise, you heard it again, locating the sound to Jin’s stomach, “are you hungry?”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, watching what seemed like the fourteenth episode of ‘Say yes to the dress’ there must be a marathon or something. You faintly remember him complaining during the previous episodes about people not just saying what they wanted, giving death glares into the back of your head “It is your dress not theirs. Ughhh… just say what you want so the people can get on with their jobs”

“I’m going to make something to eat,” you had said it loud enough that you hoped it would peak his interest and he would accompany you for a meal. But he didn’t seem to move an inch, it wasn’t until you had added the seasoning to the ramen purposefully leaving the lid off so you could lure him away from the Television.

It worked. Strolling in casually as he could muster but you knew from the sound of his stomach and the tilt of his nose in the air your kitchen skills had done the job.

“Cheese Ramen and steak?” You asked, showing him the food cooking and his lips which had been parted in awe closed with a swipe of his tongue and he swallowed heavily before looking up at you. “It’s okay to say you are hungry, I will feed you”

His ears were turning red and you grinned, “Look go grab some plates from that cupboard there,” you used your leg; sticking it out in the direction, your foot tapping against the lower cupboard, just left of the sink, “and bring them over to the bench.”

Your apartment was small and you loved it. In your kitchen everything was within reaching distance and being able to touch both walls was claustrophobic to some, but comforting to you. That and there were only six tiles on the floor that needed to be cleaned. You had never thought your kitchen was small until Jin stepped into the kitchen, You turned slightly to watch him as he slid past the bench, your hand casually stirring the ramen making the noodles had all separated.

With his eyes looking into yours, he went to step around you, his chest pressed to yours and you blushed eyes faltering and looking at his wide chest. He grabbed out the plates and began his journey back and you turned to face the stove not wishing to be face to face with the handsome features again.

You felt his clothes brush yours as he slipped past and placed the items on the bench. Letting out a breath you began serving the dinner and he licked his lips once more. “It looks good, huh?”

“Yeah, thank you,” JIn smiled and looked up, “Maybe I can repay you, you could wish for a grand house?”

“No thanks, that’s too much, I live alone that would be too lonely,” You laughed sitting at the tiny table, “But I would like to discuss your clauses and limits.”

“Of course, what can I tell you?” He asked curiously

“You killed that man didn’t you,” You didn’t look up from your plate not wanting to appear judgemental, who knew this was what he had to do, it never meant he enjoyed it.

“Hey, I didn’t kill him,” He said and you knew the meaning, he may not see it as killing but taking payment for the wish. You watched his expression as he ate and looked at the suit he had been wearing when you met.

The two of you ate in silence, and you raised an eyebrow, “Do you have any other clothes, or do you roam around in formal attire?”

“I have more clothes in my lamp, but I feel as though now I will have to go see someone about making me another, I need it for strangers to pick up and use” He frowned, “You wouldn’t happen to know where I could get another lamp made?”

“Can’t you just magic yourself one?” You expressed your confusion, pouring him some juice and he laughed while taking the beverage.

“No, I can’t really perform wishes on myself, I live to serve until my debt is paid. I can do tiny things but nothing like that,” He laughed dryly, you were curious as to what his debt was.

“What is your debt?” You spoke concerned as you gave Jin the other half of your steak he had been eyeing, was it because he looked so nervous to ask for more food or was it a bribe to get information from him? You liked to think it was your professionalism taking over to get information but deep down you knew it was the look in his eyes.

“It’s just something that I stupidly accepted from the beginning that I regret,” He blushed eating the steak you had given to him, you took your plate and glass to the sink and began slowly washing the plates and pots.

“So, you don’t have any other clothes?” You asked him, you knew it would be best to pull back on the questioning until you two had a better bond, there were many ways for you to get the information you wanted. You had to appear like a trustworthy friend, give him the freedom to confide in you with even the smallest things without judgement and then perhaps he would tell you what you would like to hear.

“Only what I am wearing,” He sighed, “Are you sure they have taken my lamp? The thing is wherever my lamp is I am bound to it, my master holds the lamp and calls me and I appear to grant them a wish.”

“Listen, you want people to pick you up, you have to modernize, no one uses lamps anymore, let’s look around and maybe I can buy you some sort of replacement that will work similarly,” you started, “But for now, we have two hours until the department store closes and I was wondering if you wanted me to buy you some pj’s for tonight. I can’t afford a lot but, I can get you something that isn’t this suit to sleep in.”

Grabbing your bag and coat the two of you ventured out, it was along the way that you picked up some ice cream as dessert, the two of you talked and laughed until you reached the department store. Guiding Jin through the store, he seemed to get distracted or lost in the sea of people easily. Reaching out you took his hand and guided him through until you reached the menswear section. You found him some pajamas, blue button up with an Alpaca on the front that said ‘Adventure? Al-Pack-a my bags’. It made him laugh and you giggled, you loved when he laughed, it was so silly.

You had to purchase them, it would have been a crime if you hadn’t. You had him try on the tops, so you could compensate for his shoulders and when you decided on a size you headed on and grabbed him a toothbrush and more things to get him through the night. It was a last minute decision to get him a plain white shirt and black lounge pants. With all the things in hand you started heading home.

Once home he went for a shower and came out dressed and giggling in his pajamas, he looked youthful with his hair done. He was a smart businessman with it slicked back but done he was so boyish. Shaking these thoughts you went for a shower drying your hair and stepping out in your silk camisole and shorts. You saw him tucked into your bed and you blushed, “Uh Jin, that is my bed?”

“Oh, I am sorry, I just saw a bed and assumed it was where I was staying, I forgot,” Jin sat up and went to get out of the bed and you raised your hand.

“It is a queen sized bed, I am sure we can share it without any troubles.” You got in beside him, and he settled awkwardly, now a little unsure of the situation. “Unless you are uncomfortable, I have to sleep. I have classes in the morning okay?”

“Okay, I will sleep too,” the two of you turned in opposite directions, in an effort to forget the others' presence.

It was easier said than done, the two of you shuffled around all night trying to will yourselves unconscious and yet there was no forgetting the others presence. In the dark it consumed you, the warmth from his body so close to yours made your heart race, he was handsome and you barely knew him. Your feet accidentally brushed and you retracted them muttering a sorry in the cool night air.

“‘S okay,” Jin said under his breath, the gravel in his voice told you just how tired he was as well, it made you laugh, you were both suffering in each other's company. Picking up your pillow you moved it to the end of the bed and slept the opposite way. “What are you doing?”

“It was awkward so I thought instead of laying side by side and neither of us getting sleep, we could just top and tail and then it would be like a sleep over and not so weird,” You smiled, “but since we are both still awake we can talk until we fall asleep”

“What do we talk about?” He said rolling over and looking at you from the top of the bed, “I have never had a sleepover?”

“Wait really,” You sat up and frowned, he sat up mimicking your posture unsure if he was in trouble. “So at sleepovers, you talk about everything, like the people you like, and you play games and paint each others nails and braid hair”

“And this happens at every sleep over,” He said looking at his nails, your smile broke your face as you switched on the lamp and ran from the room, he called your name in concern and when you ran back into the room arms filled with snacks you saw Jin on his knees looking like a scared child who heard a bump in the night.

You ate snacks and painted his nails, he didn’t know what colour to choose, so you gave him a ballet pink, something cute but still subtle. “Okay, when I was thirteen I fell out of tree and got this scar on my temple, that was three stitches”

He tilted your head to see the faint scar and traced the line with his finger, he listened intrigued about your stories and soon the two of you fell asleep. The next morning your alarm sounded and you realised you were going to be late for class. You raced around getting dressed, thankful you had gotten him a white shirt, you told him to wear it and his suit pants and blazer.

He stepped out looking breathtakingly handsome, with little effort. You gestured for him to follow and began traveling down the hall, he was smart but unsure. He made up for his confusion with the modern world with his ability to lie and conjure up needed items and documents.

“We are taking the bus, do you have a ticket?” He nodded, brandishing a paper ticket, out of nowhere making you smile. He followed you on the bus and when you sat down he sat beside you, for a second you hadn’t expected it and you forgot you were babysitting some other worldly being.

“So, what are your classes?” He asked trying to strike up a conversation, or just genuinely curious you explained you were in a law degree, it took little time to reach the auditorium and you thanked the heavens today for only lectures, anyone could sit in on a lecture.

Halfway through the lecture your stomachs were growling, you handed Seokjin some money and you asked him to get you both something to eat. “Where from?”

Sighing you took back the money, “we will have to wait for the lecture to be over,” He pouted at the thought of not getting fed and rubbed his tummy, a little uncomfortable.

For whatever reason you felt pity, and searched your bag, for any snacks you might have left in the bottom just in case, finding a small granola bar, you handed it over for him.

He opened it happy and when he was done he heard your stomach growl and he felt a little guilty that he didn’t share. He thought you were a bit strange. Every human he met was always quick to make their wishes, money, fame, looks, the three most common things but you were the first person that made him wait. You were the first person to give instead of take, you worried about him and took care of him, reveling in his happiness.

He offered you money and a big house last night and you didn’t want it, he wondered if there was something wrong with you. After the lectures you went to lunch, Jin sat down at the table as you ordered burgers and drinks and a plate of fries to share. Sitting across from Jin, you watched him look around at the other patrons in the neighboring tables eating burgers and chips and you smiled cheekily behind your book.

“I didn’t have much money so i just got chips to share and a drink” you lied without moving your face from behind the book.

“Ah, that is okay, I can give you money if you ask for it” He assured you

“I don’t want money?” you waved his statement aside.

“What do you want, if you could have anything in the world?” He asked

“If I could have anything in the world, I would want to work hard for it, not make a wish, it is a waste to just have something, if I have everything I ever wanted what is the point of living” you saw the food coming towards the table and closed your book. “What’s the point of reading a book if you know the end, what’s so special about happiness if that’s all you feel, it just becomes boring.”

“What’s the point of being a genie if all you do is grant wishes and never get to live a little, you have to admit sleep overs were pretty fun huh?” You continued your lecture knowingly as the plates were placed down. “What’s the point of life if there aren't surprises to make it fun?”

He was smiling hard at the food, a little bit bashful about being tricked, he was starting to understand your point of view but he thought, this couldn’t be possible, you couldn't be the only human in the world who thought this way, could you? Then again you were the only one Jin had the pleasure of meeting and yes it was a pleasure to meet someone who actually cared about him for once.

Your phone rang, your friends were asking to come meet you at the uni and you were quick to answer and agree. You were too invested in your food that you didn’t even think about the man across from you and your friends heading your way.

“Hey, Y/n,” Yoonji and Namsoon took seats on either side of the table before looking at Jin, they turned back to you, their mouths open. You were not a professional lip reader, but your best guess of the words they were relaying were.

‘Oh my gosh, he is so hot! Is he single? What is his name? What are you doing eating with a man this gorgeous?’ Namsoon gushed over the handsome man.

You blushed, swallowing down some soda, so you could explain. “Hey, this is my friend Kim Seokjin, he and I met at work,” not a total lie, “and we became friends”

“Oh what do you do?” Namsoon asked curiously

“Yeah, do you go to Uni?” Yoonji searched the menu not phased by his beauty. His ears went red and he looked at you for help.

“Hold that thought, go order and then we can talk,” You waved them away, laughing as they went to order obediently. “Life is full of surprises Jin, live your life today, as if you were normal, just bend the truth a little, you could say you're an entrepreneur or a life coach because you make people's wishes come true.”

“I am excellent at charming people and making up stories, don’t worry,” He sat back in his chair putting one leg over the other, “Sit back and watch the master at work”

“I haven’t even started my assignments yet,” Yoonji said walking back to the table and flopping into her chair. “I was too busy sleeping”

“Okay we are back, as we were saying, what do you do for a living?”

“I am a life coach, I make people's wishes come true, help them figure out their life and make things happen” He smiled “It’s a pretty rewarding job.”

“That sounds interesting,” Namsoon smiled “So what do you do outside of work?”

“The usual sleep, eat, watch tv, I slept over Y/n’s last night and it was fun, we stayed up a little too late, so we had to rush to get dressed and get to the lectures, we didn’t even eat breakfast we were that late” He said with a smile at you that was proud at his skills of charming the girls.

“He slept over,” Namsoon hissed at you, “You had this man in your bed last night?”

You were bright red and you tried to settle them down, but it was useless and better yet, Jin was just sitting there smug, which didn’t help the image he had painted in their heads.

“You know, good on you, you haven’t been with a guy for a very long time,” Yoonji smiled

“It’s really not like that,” You blushed, waving your hands in denial, “um Yoonji these are your headphones you left them at my house”

“Oh yeah no wonder I didn’t get any study done,” she smiled softly as you put your bag over your shoulder. “You got work?”

“Yeah I have to go or I will be late,” you sighed taking one last sip of your beverage.

“We will clean it up you go,” they sat giggling as you and Jin left from the small fast food restaurant.

“Ah, Jin why did you say that?” You hissed at him, “I thought you said you were a master at charming people”

“What did I do wrong? They loved me”

“They thought you and I did things last night, not just sleeping” you said and he blushed, his ears, cheeks, and neck turning bright red.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh is right” you sighed dragging him to your house where you rushed to dress for work you told him to wait at home, “help yourself to water and up to three snacks in the cupboard no more okay, watch tv, it’s a tiny shift I will make dinner when I get home”

He nodded, “okay, water and only three snacks”

You patted his head and grinned “you are such a good listener, such a good young man”

“I feel like either I’m a dog or you're an old woman,” he poked your side playfully as you pulled your hair up into a ponytail.

“I will be home soon,” you left and headed to your car and drove to work, you were serving customers when the lady next door came in.

“Good evening, how is business in the bakery,” you grinned cheekily, as you got her usual order ready. A cold bottle of iced tea and kimbap.

“Not great, I haven’t sold half the stock,” she sighed, “I have so many items left.”

“Do you have an apple pie, or a strawberry shortcake?” You queried wanting to help the woman and also eat something sweet.

“We have everything mini’s and family sized?” She sighed, opening the iced tea and drinking slowly. At the mention of family size you thought of Jin and wondered what he might like.

“I have a friend but I don’t know what he would like in ways of sweets?” You thought allowed, “but if you have something nice I would be happy to get us something to eat after dinner”

“I have just the thing,” she declared running off faster than you had ever seen her, she came back with a white box wrapped in the stores signature blue ribbon and she smiled taking only half the payment for it as she wanted you to have the cake for free but your pressed to at least pay for the ingredients.

You carried the cake to the car and drove home, nervous to see him. You took the elevator and practiced what you wanted to say, “it’s just something the lady next door was throwing out, no that’s too like iffy, I get this all the time it’s no big deal, no that’s too indifferent and sounds a bit unhealthy”

The elevator doors opened revealing the hall filled with your neighbours and a thin blanket of smoke. Walking towards your apartment heart sinking as you saw everyone gathered at your door pushing your way inside to see a mess, there was smoke in the air and the smoke alarms were disabled.

Putting the cake on the bench you began cleaning up thanking the neighbours for their help and concern.

“What happened?” You asked angrily, “why were you cooking—”

“I tried to cook ramen, you made it last night so I tried to do the same,” he coughed and rubbed at his smoke strained eyes. “Are you mad?”

“I am a little mad not because you almost burnt the house down, because you could have been hurt, life is full of surprises, remember and this one is one of the bad ones, but we learn and we grow from them. Now, are you okay? You seem to have inhaled a bit of smoke.”

“I’m okay, I promise” he said “I really am sorry, it’s just I have never cooked before, I wanted to surprise you with dinner”

“Well let’s sit on the balcony and have dessert instead?” You smiled and you opened the cake to see a love heart red velvet cake and you laughed. “The lady at the bakery heard I was buying a cake for you and she picked this one”

“It’s tasty” he hummed, “being a human is hard, I wish I had my lamp”

“I think you are doing wonderfully, remember the bad times make the good times good”

You sat in silence devouring a cake together and the two of you reentered the apartment and started cleaning the kitchen until it was spotless. “I will need to buy a new noodle pot”

“You could always wish for one,” he suggested, and then upon thinking shook his head “actually that’s a silly wish, don’t wish for that”

You were surprised he said that he had been trying to get you to wish for anything since you met, but this was the first time he told you not to wish for something.

After everything was cleaned you ordered in and ate, Seokjin’s obsession with ‘Say yes to the dress’ was becoming unhealthy. It was during the fourth episode that your eyes got heavy and you thought, maybe it wouldn’t be a problem to rest your head on Jin’s chest. He wrapped his arm around you and the two of you stretched out.

You woke the next day and was happy that you didn’t have work but you had assignments and you had to return a book to the library. Leaving Jin at home once more you swapped the book before taking a detour to the mall and getting a new sweater and pants for him. Walking inside you handed him the bag with a small smile, “I saw these and thought you might like it, try them on and see if they fit?”

He put on the sweater and pants and you felt your heart flutter, he looked really handsome. His hair was a little askew from pulling the sweater over his head, so you told him to sit on the couch running your fingers through his hair in order to style it. It seemed all this achieved was you getting lost in his handsome features, staring up at you without even trying to charm you. You messed his hair up, unable to stand how he made you feel, he whined “what’s wrong?”

“You look weird” You huffed, and crossed your arms, looking away with a pout.

“What do you mean? I am handsome!” He said in disbelief.

“That’s the problem, it’s hard to look at you when you’re that handsome, it makes my heart race” you admitted “if only I could just become immune, get used to it until it doesn’t bother me”

“You can look at me all you want, I don’t mind,” he said innocently, “but is this what you call life’s surprises, is it not good to see a beautiful face”

“It is nice,” I admitted, “it just makes me nervous”

Knee deep in assignments you realised you had been devoting too much of your time and attention to Jin. It was time to get to work, you had your books, snacks and drinks at your side and it was time to tackle the ethics of law assignment worth half your grade.

Telling Jin to entertain himself, he nodded immediately flicking through the channels frowning when his favourite wedding dress reality show wasn’t playing. You eventually picked a show for him when you heard the intro to keeping up with the kardashians. He didn’t need to learn about that just yet.

Halfway through your assignment, he saw an ad for the bite market. A market place full of food stalls where you can try all different delicious foods. Once he saw the ad he began begging you to go, he wanted to try the tornado potatoes and the crepes they had shown cooking deliciously on the TV.

“Can we go please?” He asked rolling around on the floor and shaking you as you wrote. It wasn’t until he was sitting across from you and grabbed your cheeks bringing your face to his that you decided to take a break from your work.

“You were saying?” You said as he held your face in his hands.

“Uh, yeah sorry, I got distracted,” he blinked letting your face go, and looking at his hands as if they had burnt him. “Can we go to the bite market”

“Okay, let me get dressed, put on your coat and shoes” Stepping into your room, you changed into a beautiful red dress, it was one you bought online one year because you wanted the classic red dress for a romantic date, but turns out you had no one to wear it for. Until today.

The dress hugged your curves and smoothed you out paired with heels. It gave your legs a longer appearance and your butt a more prominent appearance. You let your hair out doing a quick brush and style and some quick make up, a little eye shadow and a rosey lip stain. Topping it off with a dash of perfume you were feeling elegant and beautiful.

You nervously stepped out into the living room and saw him handsome as ever dressed and ready with his shoes on. He looked at you, his mouth falling open and his hand immediately trying to flatten his hair in nervousness.

“Life’s surprises, is this a good one?” You grinned cheekily

“Yes, but I am not used to it, it makes me nervous” he patted his chest as if trying to ease indigestion. You grabbed your purse and headed out to the bite market, Jin’s eyes lit up like it was Christmas you could see the sparkle in his eyes as they reflected the fairy lights between the stalls. The place looked magical and had everything you could think of.

The two of you tried the foods and were having fun sharing a rather delicious crepe with fresh strawberries, You gave Jin the majority of the strawberries seeing how he eyed them, and he hummed “I love strawberries”

“Me too, they are delicious” you hummed happily, knowing he was happy was good enough for you, you wouldn’t tell him but this is what you would wish for just days of fun and new experiences and a friend to share it with.

“Then why did you give them all to me?” Jin was confused, and you laughed

“Because it made you happy, seeing you enjoy them was enough for me,” you wiped his chin of the sweet cream and laughed “they said there will be fireworks today,”

“Oh I like fireworks” he said and you kept walking and you bumped into a small group of older gentlemen. One of them turned and grabbed Jin by the collar, punching him so hard that he fell.

“Gentlemen I am so sorry that we bumped into you, how about you get something? On me” You handed them a fifty in a panic and they took it and turned to leave.

“You’re lucky your girlfriend is smart and beautiful, or we would have beaten you to a pulp, pretty boy” once they started walking away you walked to Jin.

You looked at him and pulled him to his feet, “are you okay?” You held his face and frowned, there was a small thin cut near his cheek bone maybe from the man's rings. “Why is it you still look handsome? Come with me,”

You went to the open field, Jin laying out his jacket and the two of you sat on top, you would have the perfect view of the fireworks. However, fireworks weren’t on your mind. You opened your bag and pulled out a small antiseptic cream and knelt in front of him. “This will help, I got it for my hand the other day at work, it helps soothe the cut and keep it from getting infected”

He quietly let you pull his face gently closer, “are you okay, it must have been scary?”

“You stepped in front of me, what if you got hurt?” He asked, wincing as you dabbed the medicine on the cut “you also gave them your money?”

“If it’s for a friend it doesn’t count, I would give them one hundred dollars to stop you from getting beaten” you blew a stream of cool air onto the affected area the whistles and pops of the fireworks bursting in the sky behind you. But you didn’t turn around, stuck looking at Jin, like a magnet.

You hesitated, starting to turn away, “Ah the fireworks are my favouri—” Jin grabbed your cheeks in his large warm hands and pulled you in for a kiss. A delicious twang in the pit of your stomach accompanied by the fluttering in your chest. The kiss was beautiful and like a fire burning up a match, the two of you came alive. Your hands diving into his hair as the kiss deepened and you felt him hum happily the sound rumbling his chest.

You fell apart a mere inch panting and you swallowed, trying to form words. “We shouldn’t miss the fireworks,” you scrambled to sit beside him and the two of you watched silently. Had you done the wrong thing.

“Thank you,” he said softly, you weren’t entirely sure what he was thankful for, but you were happy anyway.

The two of you headed home flushed from the cold wind on your cheeks, but your car heater was working to warm you both back up. You arrived at the underground parking and headed towards the staircase when you heard your phone ring.

“Hello?” You answered into the device

“Y/n, it’s your father. He is in hospital, he really needs surgery but I was wondering if I could borrow some money from you? We will pay you back” your mother said her voice cracking with intense emotions.

“Which hospital? I will come straight over.” You asked, heading back to the car and Jin looked confused. “Go upstairs you know the pincode for the door and rest I will be home as soon as I can”

He nodded and followed your instruction retreating upstairs, you drove to the hospital and you got there and spoke with the doctor and your mother. Taking your savings and asking for a loan double the amount, you were able to pay for the surgery but it had left you in debt.

You waited until the surgeon stepped out to tell you how everything went and put your mind at ease before driving home knowing there wasn’t anything more you could do at the hospital. Jin was waiting on the couch looking nervous and you sat beside him on the couch.

Throwing your arm over your eyes and laying your head back on the couch, you let your tears flow. You didn’t know what you were saying when you turned Jin cheeks wet, “What would I get if I wished for money right now?”

“What happened to lifes’ surprises?” he teased, wiping the tears from your face with his thumbs, he pressed down as he rubbed them away as if they were personally offending him. His voice sounded scared and desperate, “The bad days make the good days good remember?”

“I don’t know, but, I will just have to make it work” You said crying into his chest until you were about to pass out and he scooped you into his arms and carried you to your bed where he tucked you in.

“If I asked, would you promise me to never make a wish?” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your head, you had woken when he moved you but you didn’t want him to know that.

You fell asleep soon after, emotionally exhausted, waking only to the sound of the front door closing. Looking beside you and stretching out your arm, the sheets were cold and empty. Jin was gone. You ran out of bed and out the door.

You raced down the stairs but when you arrived he was disappearing on your doorstep, you paused panting feeling a weird sense of sadness you let him go heading back to the elevator the doors closed and you stared at the floor. The doors opened and you shuffled back to your apartment and sighed stepping inside.

There was a note in the drawer where the lamp had been.

To y/n,

I have always felt the presence of my lamp and found it on the first day, but out of curiosity about your intentions I stayed and over time I found myself enjoying the experiences you gave me. I admit my feelings began to grow from you being my client to being my friend. I realized I didn’t want to hurt you, I didn’t want you to use this wish and end your life. Your life's better off without me, don’t ruin it, never trust anyone who says they are a genie, they will screw you over and take your soul as payment. I couldn’t stay. I don’t want to take you from this world. You and your fathers debts will get easier, you can get through this without me.

The handsome,

Jin

You saw wet spots blooming on the paper before you realized you were crying. He had just made the decision to leave for you, because you were now his friend. That is a boat load of crap, friends don’t kiss friends the way he did the night you were watching the fireworks. What were you supposed to do now? With him by your side you felt like you could take on the world, now you just felt your tiny apartment was too big.

Things weren’t easy, you were working twice as hard trying to pay the loan repayments. It had been three months since Jin had left and you just woke up at 10, the late shift and uni were kicking your butt. Dragging your feet you headed down the elevator in his pajamas to get the mail. Collecting the mail and heading back upstairs. You curiously opened the bank statement regarding how much you still owe when you saw your loan was already halved. There had been another account paying your debt as well. Your mother would send you half of the money to your personal account and you would pay the full amount, but who was this third party?

Your heart skipped a beat thinking it could be Jin, but you knew you couldn’t jump to conclusions. He had left and wouldn’t be bothered to do something like this. Looking at the statement it read in store payment at your local branch at the same time on the same day of the week.

12:30 Wednesday.

You looked at the clock, it was almost noon, you threw on your coat and shoes before running out the door. You rushed to the bank, racing inside. There he was standing in line in the pants and sweater you had bought for him. You were frozen in the doorway as he approached the woman at the counter.

“Back again?” the woman asked, “The same amount today?”

“Yes please,” He grinned. He handed over the cash and yawned,

“Have you been working the late shift again?” He looked tired, the dark under his eyes was a little scary, the woman gave him the receipt and he turned heading to the door. The very door where you were standing, his eyes met yours and he faltered, stopping.

He didn’t know what to say but he looked down and grinned for a moment, “You look good,” Looking at your clothes you remembered you had been wearing his oversized blue alpaca pajamas.

“You need to fix what you have done to my house,” You hissed and he looked confused, as you grabbed him by the hand and led him down the street. “Everything is wrong, I don’t know what you did but I want you to fix it, I can’t believe you would do something like that and then just leave, like it’s some sort of joke or prank.”

“I swear I didn’t do anything,” He said quietly, he was confused, not remembering having done anything when he left. “What happened to your house?”

“See for yourself,” you pulled him into the elevator and pressed the number for your floor, you felt an overwhelming emotion building up but you tried to swallow it back down.

He followed you to the door and you opened it up and pushed him inside, not wanting to risk that he might disappear behind you. He looked around as you pressed your back to the now securely closed door your arms crossed. “I don’t understand, what did I do?”

“Like you can’t see, Look how big the living room is, and the kitchen is too spacious and here when we used to sit there was so little space our knees would touch and now it's huge” You dragged him into the bathroom, trying to hide the way your chest was shaking with every breath, “This bench is too empty, your things used to sit there and there was hardly any room. And, And the bed, I don’t know what you did to the bed but it’s too wide, I can barely touch both sides and not too mention its always cold, it was never cold when you were here”

He looked at you sadly and he reached up wiping the tears from your cheeks, “I have done nothing to the house” He tried to soothe you, clutching his shirt you had buried your face against him and cried. “You know I didn’t do anything to the house.

“You left me alone and I don’t like it,” You whimpered,

“I wish I could stay and be just like a normal human who can love you but I can’t because I am not human,”

“I wish you were a human” He froze, pulling away and holding your face, he seemed a little excited.

“Do you really mean that?” He asked and you nodded looking up at him. Jin moved away and opened the lamp, tipping everything out, clothes and shoes and a million other things and he granted your wish. He still held the lamp and he grinned, spinning it around his finger and said “We could pawn this for a fair bit of money, yeah.”

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writtenonreceipts · 4 years

Note

If you're taking prompts, maybe for feysand - Person A catches a bus home everyday, but today, they're so exhausted that they fall asleep, suddely they feel a light tap on their shoulder and open their eyes to see person B smiling at them. "Sorry to wake you, but this is your stop, i hope you slept well"

<33

Oh my darling anon, I am always eager for prompts! Thank-you for sending this in! I altered just a few minor things, ie trains and not not busses and the diologue is just worded diff... and then over indulged in my own whims and fancies, just a touch.

2.7K words of fluff and awkwardness...all i know is awkwardness so ya know...

Strangers and Favors

Exhausted. Tired. Sleepy. There were far too many ways to describe what Feyre was feeling. Not even the coffee in her hands was doing anything to give her the boost she needed.

Amid the chill of morning and the slowly growing light of dawn, Feyre found herself hurrying from her car in the park-and-ride lot. She practically flung herself up the small steps that led to the train platform and into the first train car she was near.

She’d been running late that morning and nearly missed her alarm. Alis had been a dear and poured her coffee in a thermos, but Feyre hated the feeling of being rushed. Especially after a poor night's sleep. And when it was five thirty in the morning.

Feyre slipped into a seat before she could finally tell herself to breathe. She’d made it onto her train with only a few minutes to spare. Thankfully there were other straggling passengers filtered into the train car and made their way to their various seats.

Feyre took a long sip of her coffee and tried to convince herself that she wasn’t really tired. Even though it was far too early to be awake and she had an hour and a half train ride to sit through.

Dawn had barely begun to rise over the horizon with not even the promise of pink and blue streaks through the sky. She sighed and drew out her sketch pad.

She was barely into starting the picture--of what she had no idea--when the train started moving and a form fell into the seat across from her.

Feyre blinked and glanced up.

There were plenty of other open seats lining the train. Granted the place she’d found herself was the only one with a small table set up, but still.

Sitting across from her was a man far too attractive for his own good. He wore a black suit with a deep navy-blue button up beneath. No tie, only the top few buttons of his shirt undone giving a peak at a series of tattoos on his chest. His black hair was styled in a neat wave revealing a chiseled jaw and glorious eyes.

Feyre tore her gaze away before she could be accused of staring. But honestly, who could blame her?

Over the course of the train ride, Feyre finished her coffee and scribbled out at least four pages worth of drawings. Unfortunately, inspiration didn’t strike. Not that it was surprising. She’d not drawn anything new in months. Oh, she’d tried. She could sit for hours on this train, on her balcony, or out in the middle of the forest with a pencil in one hand and paper in the other--and nothing. Nothing would come.

Alis always told her that she couldn’t force herself to draw. She couldn’t force herself to be inspired if she didn’t make the conscious choice. But Alis didn’t understand that sometimes, it was too damned hard.

The train ride passed without excitement. Not even the man across from her did anything interesting. Figured. He was so attractive his life had to be mundane. At least, that was what Feyre told herself while she was not covertly looking at him

She was glad to get off the train when it reached the city. After making sure she had her things, she slipped out and onto the platform without trouble.

Chaos was not something she enjoyed.

Especially not lately. As long as everything was in its place of simplicity, life could continue on as normal.

Honestly, if Feyre could have chosen a simple life involving nothing more than eating donuts she would have chosen it. Because living in a state of missed calls and impatient clients and looming deadlines was far from her state of happiness.

With a bag of donuts from Rita’s bakery in one hand, Feyre collapsed in her seat at the end of the day. She’d managed to leave work five minutes early giving her enough time to swing into Rita’s and grab a few treats. And she would not apologize for it.

“Long day?”

Feyre glanced up to see the man from that morning taking a seat across from her. He had an amused sort of expression on his face which made it even harder to look away. Feyre snatched a frosted chocolate donut from her bag and glared at him.

“No.” She took a giant bite leaving sugar to lace around her mouth and narrowed her eyes at him.

He grinned and shook his head.

Feyre was able to finish her donut in peace and managed not to stare at the man the rest of the train ride home.

Life continued. And much to Feyre’s dismay, nothing changed.

Her sketch book remained empty. Her coffee remained dull. Work did not improve.

Something needed to change. But honestly, she couldn’t figure out what it was. She’d left her ex months ago. She’d gotten a new wardrobe, a new phone, moved in with her friend. She’d started getting out more too. Somewhat. When Nesta called, which wasn’t often but at least her sister was trying.

It was five-thirty in the morning and she was seated on the train, again. And the man who seemed to only own clothing that was black was seated across from her, again. Since that first day of seeing him, he hadn’t tried talking to her again, which Feyre was semi grateful for. She was certain she would just make herself look like a bigger idiot than before.

Had she really stuffed her face with that giant donut?

Not that she cared. She could do whatever she wanted.

Except draw.

Feyre stared out the window of the train. It was slowly starting to get lighter sooner and Feyre now had more scenery to watch instead of the reality of the empty sketchpad.

Inevitably, however, Feyre found her attention drawn to the man across from her.

There was something about him. Feyre couldn’t place it, exactly, perhaps an energy of some kind. Or it was his confidence. Arrogance. Something. She found him mesmerizing. How stupid was that? A man she had said one word to and ignored for an entire month and she could help but watch him.

He did a cross word every morning. Texting someone throughout--or else cheating and looking up the answers. Other times she caught him reading a book about astrology or NASA’s recent magazine release. She wanted to ask him about the astrology, it was such a fascinating topic, one that she liked learning about. But she never knew how to strike up a conversation, so she remained silent.

She’d always been good at staying silent. At least that was what she’d been told.

The thought came so suddenly that Feyre had to physically shake herself to make it disappear. She sat up in her seat, hands clenching in her lap.

She snapped her attention away from the train window and forcibly removed her sketchpad from her bag. In a fury, Feyre moved her pencil across the page. It wasn’t the bed utensil to use, but it was better than bringing her entire art supply on the commute to work. The pencil would suffice.

It wasn’t as though she liked being quiet. It wasn’t as though she didn’t have anything to say. Sometimes it was just easier. Sometimes it was just better. Sometimes the silence was how she communicated. Sometimes people just didn’t understand that.

The scene came alive beneath her fingers.

Mountains and stars. Storms and shadows. All convalescing on a shape. A person. A…

Feyre frowned at the scene. Someone was kneeling on a throne of night and she couldn’t see their face.

“Do you always glare at your art like that?” The midnight voice broke Feyre out of her revere.

Glance up, Feyre locked gazes with the violet eyes of the man across from her. The crossword in his lap was complete. Feyre realized for the first time that he was younger than she’d originally thought. Maybe about five years older than she was. And even though he oozed arrogance, there was almost a genuine sort of smile dancing across his lips.

“Only when it’s being difficult,” Feyre answered. She offered a brief shrug and gestured to the crossword on his lap. “Do you always cheat at the crossword?”

He made an affronted sort of gasp. “I don’t cheat.”

“You’re always on your phone when you scribble answers in,” Feyre pointed out. She smirked, unable to help it.

“I’m texting with a friend,” he said, “she’s always trying to finish the damned thing before me in the mornings. All I do is offer a bit of...encouragement.”

“Right,” Feyre said doubtfully. She shook her head, still smiling.

The man watched her, almost confused, before he leaned forward. “And the art? It’s the first time in over a month I’ve seen you actually draw something.”

“I was searching for the right inspiration,” she said. And then as she found herself nearly drowning in the heat of his gaze--Feyre had what she’d been hunting for. “Sometimes it just takes a while to find.”

The train pulled to a stop where they usually got off. Feyre collected her things and half expected the man to be right at her side when his phone went off.

He muttered something under his breath before answering it.

Feyre almost had half a mind to wait for him. To linger on the platform and dredge up some excuse so that she could talk to him. If only for a moment longer. She still hadn’t asked him about the astrology book.

Instead she was swept up in the crowd of commuters.

For the next two weeks, Feyre was out of her mind with anxiety.

There really was no other way to describe it. Because every morning and every evening when she would board the train there would be no sign of her mysterious companion. Not even the sight of him running to try and catch a ride before the train completely left the station. Not even a hint of him getting on a different compartment one day by accident. Nothing.

So, naturally, her mind told her that it had something she’d done. Something she’d said. Hell. She hadn’t even done anything that stupid. Aside from stuffing a whole ass donut in her mouth.

She was an idiot.

Eventually she was able to push thoughts of her mysterious companion aside. Not only was she drawing again, but her workload had increased. And now she was getting up earlier and staying later and her schedule was entirely too chaotic.

She really missed the simpler days of dashing into Rita’s or relaxing on the train bench not staring at the man across from her.

After two weeks of commuting alone and another two weeks of being run ragged at work, Feyre finally found herself being able to return to a normal timeline. Somewhat. At least she was going to be able catch her usual train home and get home before ten o’clock.

Feyre fell into her seat and leaned up against the window of the train. She didn’t mean to fall asleep. Not really. But as soon as she was seated and relaxed her eyes drifted shut and she was gone.

The next thing Feyre knew there was a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Sorry to wake you, but this is your stop,” said an all too familiar voice.

Feyre’s eyes snapped open and she nearly flung out a fist to the shape in front of her.

“I take it you slept well?” Her mysterious companion snatched out a hand and caught hers before it made contact. He gave her a cheeky grin. “You didn’t even twitch between all the other stops.”

Feyre blinked up at him. Sleep still addled her brain and he was making no sense whatsoever.

“What?” she finally managed to spit out.

“Your stop?” he said, jutting a thumb to the train doors.

Feyre cursed, loudly, and jumped up. “I barely even closed my eyes,” she grumbled.

“Here, let me,” her companion grabbed her bag for her and helped her off the train before it took them all the way south to Hybern.

“Thanks,” Feyre said as they stepped out onto the platform. She accepted her bag from him and gave him a smile. “It’s been a long couple of weeks I guess.”

In the still fading evening light, Feyre was able to see his easy smile and the way his eyes crinkled softly. His black hair was tousled easily as if he’d been running his hands through it recently.

“It’s not a problem,” he said, “in fact I was surprised to even see you. It’d been a few weeks.”

Feyre blinked. He’d noticed she wasn’t on at her usual time?

“You were gone for a while too,” she said without thinking. You idiot.

Her words seemed to catch him by surprise, but not for long. A gleam flashed in his eyes.

“You noticed, did you?”

“You noticed me,” she shot back quickly.

They stood in silence as the train moved on with a loud whistle and the last few men and women passed them by hurrying to catch their connecting busses or get to their cars.

His smile stretched into a full grin. “I’m Rhysand.”

“Feyre,” she said, returning the smile. She then noticed the small paper bag he held in one hand. Immediately, Feyre recognized the logo on the outside. “Rita’s? That’s my favorite place to stop at after work.”

“Yeah, uh,” Rhysand said as he ran a hand through his hair, “I noticed and decided to give it a try.”

“And?” Feyre pressed.

“I have you to blame for my new addiction,” he said.

Feyre laughed, shaking her head. “I take full responsibility, though I will not apologize.”

Rhysand paused only for a moment before he glanced at her and an almost sheepish smile crossed his features. “Have you been to Dreamer’s? It’s a late-night coffee shop on Main.”

“I haven’t, but I’ve been meaning to,” Feyre admitted.

“My treat,” he said almost immediately. “I mean, if you want. You can tell me about what helped you find the inspiration to start drawing again.”

Feyre blinked at him remembering that train ride over a month ago now where she’d finally been able to draw more than a few measly lines. And she realized now as she watched a halo of light glimmer from the setting sun around his head that all this time she’d been trying to draw him in the outline of mountains and stars.

“Deal,” Feyre said. “But you should know, I don’t give up my secrets lightly.”

Rhysand quirked a brow. “Noted.”

They spent hours sharing secrets. The small kinds, the simple kinds.

Feyre learned that Rhysand’s brother had broken his leg playing football and needed surgery which was why he’d disappeared for a few weeks. She learned that it was his mother who taught him about astrology before she died not that long ago. And now he spent most of his time trying to avoid his father.

She’d told him about her love of painting, of art, of creating. Anything that made her feel alive. She’d told him about walking out on her old life and how here she was six months later and still desperate for change.

They were both trying, it turned out, to become something different.

It wouldn’t be until later that night--after sunset when the inky black sky gave way to the millions of stars overhead--that Feyre found herself home. Rhysand, of course, made sure she’d arrived safe and she’d rewarded him with a brush of her lips to his cheek and a small smile over her shoulder.

It wouldn’t be until later that night--amid the cool mid-spring air that promised a new dawn--that Feyre would pull out her sketch pad. She would draw sharp lines and angular features and a man kneeling amid the night. She would draw power and beauty in something, someone, she didn’t know perfectly. But one day. One day, maybe she would.

thanks for reading my dears! i am always eager and open from prompts so thanks for sendin gthem! I really do enjoy them!

tags:

let me know if I put you on the wrong tag list/want to be removed. it’s generally going to be easier for me to just have basic acotar/tog lists and not go into too much worry about that, so just and fyi...anywho

tottenhamboys20 @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @bamchickawowow @ladywitchling @ireallyshouldsleeprn @courtofjurdan @sassys-world @sleeping-and-books @superspiritfestival @chieflemming @julemmaes @lysandra-ghost-leopard @harrymoncheri @firestarsandseneschals @rapunzel1523 @emikadreams

#feysand #feyre archeron #rhysand #feyre x rhysand #feysand fanfiction #feysand au #modern au #fanfiction #sjm #acotar #acomaf #just me writing #writing is better than self misery #thanks anon!#anon #anon answered

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beauregardlionett · 3 years

Text

from the clouds - prologue & ch i

AO3 Link

Our story begins—like so many others—in Wildemount. Descending through the cloudy overhang hovering over the Truscan Vale, rising along the Bromkiln Hills towards Mount Mentiri in the Cyrios Mountains. Between these points sat Kamordah. This, however, is not where the story begins. Deeper into the woods of the mountains, travelling north of Kamordah along the edges of the Cyrios Mountains, were numerous streams and rivers. Many of the waterways hidden among the warm mountains bore names long forgotten. Should one be lucky enough, they might encounter the spirit of a waterway and learn their name.

Most were not lucky.

According to legend, the spirits of the rivers were benevolent, but cautious. Too many of them fell by the sword of glory hungry adventurers, or became tamed and twisted to the will of mages. It was rare these days to encounter the water spirits known as Imugi. So rare, the mundane populations nearly forgot the name itself in the present.

But the dragons were not gods, and just because they were forgotten did not mean they ceased to exist. There existed several breeds of dragons—some better known than others. Imugi, however, were not full dragons—they were considered of lower stature and lesser power than their fully dragon counterparts. Imugi required outside intervention to become fully realized dragons—an orb of power known as a yeouiju. That, or to have lived and acquired knowledge over one thousand years of life.

In a twist of sick irony, the god that created the Imugi faded from knowledge and power over time in the material plane, lost to legend and memory. Their power waned as it was wont to do, and the yeouiju sent hurtling from the heavens to the material plane came less and less frequently.

This, however, is still not where the story begins.

It begins in the fringe woods north of Kamordah and due east of Mount Mentiri, on the banks of a tumbling river. Lined with trees whose ancient roots stretched above and below the soil to the water, their branches housing birds and fauna of all sorts. Between the current and the river rocks swam fish and otters, beavers and frogs. Flowers grew a short trot from the banks, and wildlife visited the river for the life it begat.

There, tucked away and hidden among the rocky face of a short overhang, was a hollow. Screened over by trailing moss and lichen, an absent traveller would miss the opening entirely.

This is where the story begins.

Beauregard does not remember how she learned her name.

Her creation was a simple thing. The river she called home came into existence a couple hundred years ago. She crawled out from between the river rocks beneath the tumbling current, willed into existence by a god fading from human memory. Her name—her real name—was something she had always known from the moment awareness set in. But the trees and the animals that took up residence on her banks named her Beauregard.

The spirits of the forest that lived around her took care of Beau, taught her their common tongue instead of the warbling, watery language Beau spoke intrinsically. The fish understood when she ate a few of them, and the red-tailed doe that visited the water allowed Beau to play with her fawns. They all encouraged Beau, cheered her on, as she stumbled through comprehending her powers, her abilities, and her frustrating limitations.

Beau could not fly, nor stray too far into the woods from her river without weakening and losing her breath. She learned her lesson the hard way when she was still small and less than twenty years old, carried home by a dryad who had found her gasping and grey less than half a mile from the river. She could not maintain her true Imugi form for too long, lest it sap at her inner reserves of power and magic. And though the river birthed her, though the river was her, Beau’s control over it was abysmally lacking for the first fifty years of her life.

But the spirits all kept encouraging her, pushed Beau to keep practicing. In return, when Beau finally had a handle on it all, she protected them. When the mortals came with axes and gleaming eyes, Beau shifted and roared and scared them away from the trees. The anglers set their nets, and the hunters set their traps, and Beau sabotaged them all. She stalked the banks of her river, eyes mirroring the clear, rushing blue of the water at her feet, and refused to give an inch. This was her river, her friends, and she was the guardian. Nothing would get in her way.

Despite it all, Beau was not content. Her chest began to feel hollow after a hundred years in her river. The monotony of her days, the metaphorical chain at her ankles, tethering her to these banks, was dreary. She longed to fly, to explore the heavens above, and to wield a storm at her fingertips. Beau knew—just knew—that Imugi could do more, be more. The stories and the knowledge all sat inside of her without prompt. Beau needed a yeouiju, needed that orb of power to help her rise above the treetops.

The dryads let Beau climb up their trunks and among their branches. They let her wiggle through the topmost canopy of their crown and witness the wind on her cheeks and dancing through her hair. The thrill in her veins from the dizzying height tasted of flying in the paltriest sense of the word. But it was enough to fuel her determination.

Which was why Beau remained so determined to find a yeouiju of her own, to ascend into higher stature and power. However, she knew the dwindling knowledge of her kind afforded fewer chances to Imugi like her to gain a yeouiju. Lack of knowledge and faith meant the god that created Imugi was fading from power and existence. It took more out of them to create yeouiju now than it had hundreds of years before.

These facts did not daunt Beau’s resolve, though.

Regardless of the tedium, every day she swam the length of her river charge, eyes on the heavens. She would consult schools of fish on their numbers, give them directions, rearrange river rocks, and tend to the flora on the banks of her river. She would protect the dryads, aide the birds with their nests, collect sticks and branches for the otters and beavers, and befriend the visiting fauna. Throughout each daily chore, Beau waited. At night, when the current babbled calmly over her stones and banks, she watched the heavens. The stars would twinkle back at her, each distant flash stoking a false flame of hope in Beau’s chest. Each time her aging heart would leap, thinking this might be her falling orb, her chance at last.

Each morning, the sun greeted her dwindling patience with empty warmth.

“Haven’t you ever heard the term, a watched pot never boils?” Caleb asked her one evening. He ruffled the feathers of one wing as he groomed his beak through his primaries.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you that you spend too much time eavesdropping on humans?” Beau retorted, voice sharp and bitter. Caleb did not rise to the bait, but he gave her a knowing look before returning to his task.

Caleb was an eagle, and a handsome one at that. His chest dappled white down into a russet color that encompassed his lower torso, legs, and coverts. His secondary and primary feathers dappled white and dark grey, long and prideful. Caleb’s eyes were a point of interest, however; a deep, beady brown shot through with a violet blue. Beau had asked him about his eyes once, and Caleb said they were odd for a bird like him.

He was intelligent and annoying, but an excellent teacher in all things beyond her banks, and Beau loved him like family. Granted, it had taken them until Beau was in her early seventies and a near brush with death to get there, but they got along fine now. Sometimes, when Caleb was in a good mood, he would let Beau assist in his meticulous grooming process.

Beau knew all the spirits who lived on and visited her banks, but there were a select few she kept closer than the rest. Caleb was the only one of that few who did not live on her shores permanently. He came and went with the wind and the weather, bringing Beau stories and trinkets from his travels. She had long ago learned to tamp down on the bitter jealousy with each journey Caleb brought back.

Summers were the worst, when the storms rolled in with warmer weather that made Beau roil in vicious hatred. They were awesome displays of power, and she knew dragons controlled these storms—dragons that had once been Imugi like her. If she focused hard enough, Beau could summon a mild cloud cover, but never more. She could not bring forth rain, let alone thunder and lightning. Her powers barely extended past the banks of her river.

“That looked great,” Caduceus encouraged from the banks of the river, his tone a pleasant drawl. Beau huffed with frustration as her chest heaved with exertion. Water droplets clung to her bare calves where she stood in the river, hair a loose mess as tendrils hung in her eyes and stuck to her sweaty temples.

“Don’t patronize me, Caduceus,” Beau snapped, clenching her fists so hard her blunt nails almost broke the skin of her palms. “That wasn’t any better than last time.”

“Maybe not,” Caduceus agreed as he lifted the lid on his white stone teapot to inspect the state of its contents. “But it’s better than two weeks ago. Progress is progress.”

Beau wanted to yell at him for his constant positivity, his endless faith in her. But she stopped short, knowing he only meant well and was not actively trying to patronize her. Besides, he was right. Two weeks ago, Beau had struggled to maintain the rolling fog she created for two minutes. Now she could hold it for almost ten. But it wasn’t enough. Every attempt she made today in trying to raise the fog higher, to make it into clouds that would rain, had failed. The cover never lifted higher than her knees.

Giving another frustrated huff, Beau kicked at the water, only growing more upset when it parted around her foot and she missed entirely. It was a funny thing, her relationship with the river. She existed as the river, and the river lived in her, but they also existed as two separate entities. When she stepped out of the water, it did not follow. She could ask the water to do things for her, but it did not always listen. Beau tried to explain it once to Caduceus and the other dryads, ended up having an existential crisis, and never brought it up again.

Trudging from the water and up onto the banks, Beau plopped down in the grass beside Caduceus with a mighty exhale. The second her feet left the water, the bone deep exhaustion set in. Every time, it reminded Beau why she shouldn’t push herself and tug at her magic for hours on end—even after all these years.

Caduceus passed her a steaming cup of tea with a knowing look and a gentle pat to her damp kneecap.

“That’s probably enough practicing for one day. Drink up and then maybe we can track down the others for lunch.”

“Yeah,” Beau mumbled around the rim of her teacup as she blew on the steaming liquid. Her face felt tight and flush with disappointment. “Sure.”

The summer days passed in a blur of scorching sunlight and overcast rainstorms. Beau took every opportunity afforded to practice her magic, to draw upon the well inside her until it sat nearly dry. It wasn’t a healthy or wise idea, but Beau had never been known for her wisdom.

On one such day summer day, a storm raging with a rare ferocity above, Beau lay coiled in her hollow, the water dappled scales along her spine shifting restlessly. The stone offered shelter from the wind and rain howling outside the walls. The lichen and moss whipped back and forth with wild abandon in the storm, the shallow water at the front of her hollow disturbed by the movement and the rain. Beau cared for none of it. Bright blue eyes trained on the clouds, she tracked each strike of lightning, shuddered with every crack of thunder. Her mind was far from the thrashing lichen, from the soaked banks of her river, longing to know the thrill of controlling the storm.

There was a flash among the clouds, vivid white and searing purple and achingly bright. Beau’s head popped up, eyes wide and nose twitching as the burn of ozone filled the air. Thunder raged like a mournful cry and rattled Beau’s bones.

Something glowing fell from the darkened clouds.

Heart racing and veins throbbing with adrenaline, Beau shot from her hollow with a speed unknown. Heedless of the surrounding storm, Beau’s eyes locked in on the orb hurtling from the heavens toward her.

This was her chance. This was her yeouiju.

Beau could now fly in the loosest sense of the word—a discovery made a mere month ago that had filled her with joy but now was a frustration. She often made it to just above the treetops and no higher, lingering in the air for a few minutes before she had to return to the water. Without a yeouiju granting her stronger powers, she could not make it higher into the heavens. Despite this, Beau pushed herself now, straining her ability as much as possible, draining her magical well dry. Desperately, Beau pushed herself to climb higher, claws extending toward this glowing orb, this shining future.

The yeouiju hurtled closer, burning and beautiful. Beau’s heart sung in her chest with victory as her claws closed around the object just above the treetops. It was heavier than anticipated, more tangible than she thought an orb of power might be. She didn’t care, though, because this was it.

Beau didn’t care, even as her clawed foot dipped with the weight of the orb, dragging her whole body a foot or two from the sky toward the ground. She was going to fly.

But instead of the thrill of power, the surge of ascension, the weightlessness of true flight, Beau felt a static buzz singing through her veins. It seared through her as though she had grabbed hold of lightning, whiting out her vision for an instant.

She only realized the object in her claws was not an orb at all as the buzz faded away.

Confused and frustrated, unable to stay in the air any longer, Beau wove her way back to the river, magic all but depleted. Depositing her charge on the damp banks of her home, Beau coiled around herself until she stood small and human on the wet sand.

Through the sheets of rain, she glared down at what she thought would be her yeouiju, finding instead the hulking figure of a woman. Her face lay turned away from Beau, her long, thick hair the blinding white of lightning stuck to her skin like a curtain, obscuring her features. The woman’s fitted tunic was a deep black, smoldering in places and crisscrossed with straps of dark leather. But her arms were bare, the skin alabaster in hue, a stark contrast to the black of her tunic and the rest of her outfit. Finally catching Beau’s attention, though, was her right arm. The skin was marred, covered in sporadic, spiraling veins of fresh scars—evidence of lightning damage—but somehow twisted and wrong.

Unable to help her frustrated curiosity, Beau moved around to stand on the other side of the woman, crouching by her head. Without caution, Beau gathered a handful of the sopping hair from the woman’s face and moved it aside. Slack features and more alabaster skin greeted Beau beneath the hair, a solid blue line of a tattoo curving over a strong chin and down a sloping neck. An oozing gash on the woman’s temple bled sluggishly as her breath stuttered from her lungs.

Beau could not pretend to understand what had happened or how this woman fell from the sky. But she sighed, short and sharp, as she knelt beside the woman in the rain. Lightning stretched across the sky so viciously that for a moment, it was bright as day. Beau flinched as the echoing thunder followed a mere second behind and seemed to shake the very ground.

Her hollow sat nearby, and Beau knew despite her frustration, she would not leave the woman in the rain to die. She was not that heartless.

After some clumsy maneuvering, Beau had the woman draped over her back, the bulk of her figure swallowing Beau’s slighter frame. Her knees shook as she walked over the wet, unsteady sand, but she stayed resolutely upright. Ducking through the lichen screen of her hollow, Beau only stumbled twice with the relief of being out of the wind and lashing rain.

Setting the woman down unceremoniously by the shallow water’s edge, Beau cleaned and dressed the head wound as best as she was able to. Uncertain and wary of the lightning scars, Beau settled on covering them with a healing salve and resolved to ask the dryads for help in the morning.

Scooting to the farthest possible corner of her hollow opposite the unconscious woman, Beau pressed her back to the stone. Bitter and angry and upset, Beau pulled her knees to her chest and folded her arms over her legs. She glared over her forearms at the woman until her eyelids betrayed her and Beau slipped into sleep.

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