#i have a bunch of new followers who i think came for library content and to you i am so sorry

[links-in-time]

Spinning

🔞

This is my response to this writing prompt I saw. I can't remember who posted it unfortunately. If you know who it was perhaps you can tag them in the comments.

Synopsis : Zelda finds herself admiring one of her aunts servants and can't resist dancing with her at a ball.

Breath of the wild, Pre-calamity Zelda.

Minors do not interact.

18+ smutt content. Lesbian/ wlw.

Please enjoy.

She was new in the castle. She had to be. Zelda was certain she had never seen the young woman in question before. The Princess took pride in getting to know all of the palace servants, no matter their station. It always put a smile on someone's face when the Princess of Hyrule addressed them by name. And wasn't it her duty to bring joy to her people.

After asking the butler and the head of the castle staff, Zelda discovered the woman's name was Jade. She was as a chamber maid for Zelda's Aunt Violet, accompanying her while she was staying in the castle, visiting her brother King Rhoam.

It took a while for Zelda to cross paths with Jade, as her Aunt kept her attendants busy day and night. But eventually they bumped into each other in the palace gardens. Jade was sitting on a bench bathed in the midday sunlight, the gold buttons and braiding on her royal livery glittering like jewels. She was gorgeous, stunning even. Zelda thought to herself if she could tidy Jade's wayward hair a little, she could pass for actual royalty.

"Hi. It's Jade, isn't it?" Zelda asked, as she approached.

Jade looked up with a start to see the Princess walking towards her. She quickly got to her feet and gave Zelda a curtesy.

"Good day Princess," she uttered.

"Good day. I'm sorry I startled you. I didn't mean to. You looked so peaceful sitting there. Please sit," Zelda insisted and Jade resumed her seat on the bench.

Zelda perched herself beside the young woman and instantly felt the warmth of the sun on her face.

"Mmm, gosh this is nice. I suppose you're hiding from my Aunt?" Zelda sighed, raising an eyebrow at Jade.

"Hiding?!" Jade exclaimed, eyes wide as though she had been caught in something terrible. "No of course not."

"I didn't mean..." Zelda sighed. She back tracked and softened a little. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply you were sherking your duties. I've seen you around the castle and I can tell you're a very diligent attendant."

"Oh, thank you Princess," Jade replied, visibly relaxing a little. "I was taking my break and I saw the sun was shining. I didn't think anyone would mind if I came to sit in the gardens. Honestly I thought I was alone out here."

"I often visit the gardens when I need to clear my head. Though I love being in the library and the Sheikah laboratories, having the chance to escape and relax with the sun shining and the birds singing is always a pleasant change. Also the flowers are particularly beautiful this time of summer."

"The foxgloves are my favourites," Jade announced, pointing to the the towering spikes of delicate purple and pink flowers.

"They're one of my favourites too. Though everyone assumes it should be the silent princesses. They're nice enough. But I get gifted bunches of them from admirers all the time." Zelda sighed, perching on the end of the bench.

"Hmm, speaking of admirers, where's your knight? The young soldier," Jade asked curiously, suddenly looking around for Zelda's usual retinue.

"I managed to give him the slip half an hour ago. Sometimes I get a little tired of him hovering around me all the time. And Impa is just as bad. I know they're both only looking our for my wellbeing. But sometimes their attention can feel a little suffocating. That's why I come out here."

Jade had observed the young Hylian Knight dutifully following Zelda to and fro. His bright blue eyes always alert and observant. Jade doubted whether Zelda had actually managed to sneak away from him, and if he was somewhere hiding in the bushes. Maintaining the illusion the Princess was unobserved, while still perfectly safe. Link was certainly loyal and devoted to his position. But Jade couldn't help but feel Zelda could do with destressing every once in a while.

"It's a shame your Aunt will be returning to her estate soon. I'd liked to have had the privilege of spending more time with your highness," Jade said warmly,

Zelda was surprised by Jade's statement. It felt entirely too familiar for a servant. But Zelda found she didn't mind it so much. It was refreshing to meet someone of a different station who treated her like an ordinary person. Not the Goddess reincarnated.

"Well Jade, there are still a few days until you have to leave. Perhaps I could put aside some of my duties until then?" Zelda suggested, flashing a bright smile at the surprised attendant.

"Your highness I could hardly expect you to do that for me. Your duties are far more important than mine. And if your father found out I'd be dismissed for sure!" Jade replied, panic lacing her voice.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't think about that," Zelda sighed, her shoulders slumping as she sank a little.

"But the fairwell ball is tomorrow. My mistress is allowing me and another of her ladies to attend. Perhaps we could spend some time with each other then? No one would bat an eyelid if you decided to mingle with your Aunt's attendants." Jade proposed, turning her body a little to face Zelda.

Zelda considered for a moment. Jade was right. She often talked and danced with the higher ranking servants when her father threw a ball. It wouldn't be considered out of the ordinary to spend time with Jade. And Zelda really wanted to spend time with Jade. Her presence was so refreshing and warm. Just like the summer afternoon they were sharing.

The crunch of gravel suddenly caught their attention. Jade and Zelda looked up to see Link walking towards them up the gravel path. His bright blue tunic glowing in the sunlight. His gaze flashed across Jade, clearly assessing whether or not she was a threat to his charge. Apparently deciding she wasn't his attention returned to Zelda. He came and stood to attention before her.

"It's time for your meeting with the King," Link signed.

Jade's knowledge of Hylian sign was rusty, but she got the gist of what Link had said. She got to her feet and gave Zelda another curtesy.

"Good day your highness, I must return to my mistress."

Zelda watched Jade turn on the spot and drift away through the garden and out of sight. Her eyes lingered on the spot where she had disappeared for a long time. Eventually she could feel Link's gaze on her back and she let out a long sigh. At last Zelda stood, smoothed out her clothes and walked away. Feeling the familiar ghost of Link's form following three steps behind her.

***

When Zelda returned to her chambers that evening she slumped against her bedroom door with a heavy sigh. Her meeting with her father had not gone well. Rhoam had raved about the progress his forces were making excavating and activating the Devine Beasts, as well as the Guardians. Simultaneously, he was woefully disappointed with the progress (or lack of) that Zelda had made in accessing her sealing powers.

She was trying everything she and Impa could think of to access her inherited power. But nothing seemed to be working. No matter how much reading or preying Zelda did on the matter, nothing seemed to click. Her relationship with her father had slowly deteriorated over the past few months. They hadn't ever been close to being with, but with each passing day of failure on her part, Zelda could feel her father drawing further and further away from her.

Inside her bed chamber, Zelda noticed a flash of pink near her bed. Walking towards her side table Zelda smiled at the stems of foxglove flowers which had been placed in a vase by her bed. She trailed her slender fingers over the fragile blooms, drawing in their headdy scent. Jade. It had to be. Zelda thought back to their brief conversation in the gardens and found herself yearning to be in Jade's presence again.

Her maid servant entered a few minutes later and helped the princess out of her dress and into her nightgown. She dismissed the woman a little too eagerly before settling herself into her plush warm bed. Her mind on the charming young woman, Zelda's fingers crept under her nightdress towards the sensative warmth between her legs. Jade's vissage swam before Zelda's eyes as she pressed a finger between her folds and began to massage her clit.

"Mmm," a moan escaped the princess's lips and she continued to pleasure herself. Jade's curves and the fullness of her lips at the forefront of her mind.

***

The night of the ball rolled around quickly and Jade was rushed off her feet preparing her mistress for the nights festivities. Though she had the help of the other attendants, Jade bore the brunt of her Lady's demands. She wanted a long bath. She wanted her hair braided in a particular style. She wanted those shoes, not THOSE shoes!

By the time the Lady was dressed and satisfied enough to head down to the ball, Jade was fighting back her fatigue. The other girls were already dressed and helping each other do their hair and makeup ready to accompany their mistress.

"Aren't you coming Jade?" One of the girls asked with concern. She recalled Jade being particularly excited about attending the ball earlier in the day.

"I'm not sure. I'm exhausted after all that! You go on ahead with her Highness. She'll be late if you wait for me," Jade insisted with a wave.

Regretfully, Jade watched the other attendants escorts their mistress from her chambers and down towards the ball. The echo of music drifted up the stairs and Jade kicked herself for not getting ready sooner. With a woeful sigh she turned and walked back to her room in the servants quarters. It was only a short way from the guest suites and a few moments later Jade opened the door to her room.

In her dazed state she almost missed the object laid on the bed. Shaking herself awake Jade stared blankly at the dress on her single bed. It was a deep purple velvet with gold braiding. She had no idea how it had appeared in her room, but as she came back to herself, Jade had an idea who had left it here. She shook her head at the over familiarity of the Princess. It wasn't that the dress wasn't beautiful. And it wasn't that she didn't want to wear it and show her figure off before the enchanting Princess. It was the opposite. Jade wanted to do all those things and more. She had felt Zelda's eyes on her since the day she arrived in the palace. At the time Jade had thought she was kidding herself to think she warranted the Princesses attentions. But now, with such a lavish gift beneath her fingertips, Jade began to realise Zelda wasn't just being polite during their conversation in the garden. Had she been... Had the Princess actually flirted with her?

Reinvigorated by the potential night of enjoyment escaping her, Jade dressed in the long slippery dress Zelda had left for her. Tied some simple braids into her hair and decorated them with a few small purple flowers, then hurried down to the ball.

***

After a quick glance around the ballroom in the centre of Hyrule castle, Zelda's heart sank. She hadn't spotted Jade at all. Wearing the dress she had secretly gifted her or not. Her Aunt had entered attended by two other girls, but Jade was nowhere to be seen.

Half an hour later Zelda found herself being spun rather violently around the dance floor, by a noble she had only been introduced to five minutes previously. Just as she felt herself becoming dizzy, a flash of deep purple passed before her eyes. Mercifully the song the musicians were playing came to an end and Zelda stopped spinning.

Link started to approach and her dance partner bowed low before turning away to join a group of other young nobles. Zelda's eyes were already scanning the crowd once more for Jade. She felt Link squeeze her hand. Their prearranged signal for him to ask if she was alright. Zelda smiled sweetly at him and nodded. She had to admit he did look handsome in his royal guards uniform. The dark blue might have matched her dress, but she thought it brought out his eyes rather well. While hers were green and she considered the royal blue a terrible clash.

"I'm alright Link. Thank you. I'm just looking for someone." Zelda replied in a hushed voice.

An instant later she found Jade's face amid the crowd, standing close to a wall near where her mistress was gossiping with a gagle of noble ladies.

"I'm going to talk to someone," Zelda said to Link, as she hurried away.

Link watched as Zelda practically skipped across the room towards the girl he recognised from the gardens the day before. A small smirk found its way to his lips and Link quickly forced it away before turning away and finding a spot from which to observe Zelda from afar.

"You look awfully fetching this evening Miss," Zelda remarked, as she approached Jade leaning against her patch of wall.

"Your highness," Jade said politely, dipping low to curtesy. "I believe I have you to thank for this gorgeous gift."

"I thought it would look good on you and I do believe I was proved right. You look absolutely radiant Jade," Zelda grinned at her own success in having gotten Jade to wear her gift.

Jade flushed a little. She thought she was pretty, but radiant might be a step too far. But if the Princess thought such a thing, perhaps it wasn't far from the truth. She certainly wasn't going to argue.

"Thank you your Highness," Jade sighed, a sweet smile playing on her lips. "I really do appreciate it. And it's certainly more beautiful and well fitted than the dress your Aunt picked out for me. But please don't tell her I said that!" Jade exclaimed quickly. Suddenly afraid her mistress might be within earshot.

Luckily she was nowhere near and Zelda chuckled at Jade's candid remark. Jade enjoyed listening to Zelda laugh. It was a sweet sound like birds in spring. Though she had often heard Zelda could be a somber and cold Princess, that hadn't been Jade's impression of her thus far.

"Would you, would you care to dance with me?" Zelda asked, suddenly unable to meet Jade's gaze.

Surprised by her sudden shift in temperament, Jade held out her hand for Zelds to take and fixed her with a reassuring gaze.

"It would be an honour to dance beside you Zelda," Jade replied.

A little relieved, Zelda took Jade's hand and slowly the pair stepped onto the dance floor together, eyes locked on one another. As the musicians picked up their next tune, Zelda's ears twitched and her steps felt a little lighter. Jade noted the change and grinned.

"I take it this is a favourite of yours?" She asked, stepping forwards to stand face to face with Zelda. She nodded.

"I learnt it when I was young. It was one of the first songs I learnt to dance to and also to play."

"I didn't know you played an instrument," Jade remarked, curious about other things people didn't know about their Princess.

"I don't play in public. Impa taught me to play the harp. She said it might help connect me to other Princesses of the past. I find it brings me comfort when I'm playing alone. My mother used to play. It's one of the few things I remember about her." Zelda enlightened her, shrugging her shoulders a little.

Jade nodded, not wanting to interrupt Zelda's favourite song by talking over it any more. The two women too each others hand and waist, pulling each other a little closer. Their torsos touched and Jade couldn't miss the moment Zelda's eyes flicked down at her cleavage pressed against her own. Unlike Zelda's dress, Jade's had a much lower neckline, while Zelda's covered her all the way to her jaw line. Jade wondered how Zelda might look in something a little more, revealing.

The music began to rise and the other couples began to dance. Jade knew a few dances. She had had them hammered into her as a ladies attendant. Luckily Zelda had chosen a step Jade knew fairly well. Zelda decided to lead as she could feel Jade's hesitance. She assumed it was due to the eyes staring at them from all around the room, her father the King included.

"Everyone's watching us," Jade whispered, after they had spun around the room a few times. Zelda nodded.

"I know. I'm used to their attentions. But if you'd like to stop that's alright," Zelda insisted, feeling the way Jade gripped her hand and tugged on her waist.

"No, I like dancing with you," Jade said a little too quickly. Zelda chuckled.

"I like dancing with you as well. Would you mind if I spun you?" She asked.

Before Jade could answer, Zelda let go of her waist and Jade span away from her. Letting out a small yelp, Jade spun a short way across the dance floor, her hand still gently held in Zelda's. Her dress floated around her like the trumpet of an enormous flower. Jade could feel herself blushing from her cheeks to the tips of her pointed ears. But Zelda was back beside her a moment later. Jade found her embrace an enormous comfort as they continued to dance slowly around the room.

"That's wasn't so bad, was it?" Zelda teased, as she caught Jade's eye.

"I'm going to let it slide because you're a princess," Jade huffed, her face still flushed.

"And if I wasn't a princess?" Zelda asked out of curiosity. Jade stifled a laugh then leaned a little closer so that only Zelda could hear her whisper.

"If you weren't a princess Zelda. There wouldn't be so many people watching us right now. And you wouldn't be so covered up!" Jade uttered.

The hint of playfulness in her voice sent a shiver up Zelda's spine and she came to a stop. Luckily the song had also ended and no one noticed the abrupt stop to their movements. No one but Link that is. He had been watching Zelda and Jade the whole time, trying to guess or lip read what the pair were saying to each other. He had a feeling he knew where this encounter was headed.

Zelda and Jade drew apart a little to applaud the musicians with everyone else. But unlike the other dancers they didn't fade back into the crowd. They remained standing together for a long time. Not noticing or not caring that they were still drawing suspicions glances from the people assembled.

"Would you like to leave?" Zelda asked a little breathlessly. Her leaf green eyes fixed on Jade's.

Jade was continually surprised by Zelda and found she couldn't predict what the Princess was going to do next. What she did know was that she wouldn't be able to survive another dance and she would very much like to leave, so long as Zelda was coming with her. Jade nodded, and Zelda could see the eagerness behind her eyes. With a smile she quickly turned to find Link. Finding him nearby where he always was.

"Can I ask you to do something for me?" She asked, stepping close to him and flashing Link a pleading grin.

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"If my Aunt or Father asks for me for the rest of the night, can you cover for me. Tell him I was tired and wanted to go to bed early. I'll apologise to my Aunt in the morning."

Link continued to stare at her with an expression which seemed to convey the sentiment, 'really?!'

After eyeing the Princess for a moment Link inclined his head towards the double doors of the ballroom. Zelda's pleading expression washed over with gratitude and she squeezed Link's hand.

"Thank you," she breathed.

Link stepped forwards, holding her hand for a moment as he bent to whisper in her ear.

"Make sure you aren't discovered your Highness. I can't cover for you if you aren't careful," Link insisted.

Despite the shock of hearing Link speak and what a rare occasion that was, Zelda took his warning to heart and stepped away casually. She bowed her head to Link and he gave her a low bow, sweaping his berret off his head and holding it to his chest. Zelda thought it was a bit much. Link thought it was appropriate.

Turning back to where Jade was waiting, Zelda tried not to hurry across the room. She grasped the other woman's hand and kept walking towards the doors to the ballroom. Zelda preyed she wasn't drawing too much attention. But even if she was she didn't care. Zelda wanted out of that ballroom and she wanted Jade to come with her.

Just before they left, Zelda spotted her maidservant close to the doors and she beckoned her closer. Jade heard Zelda whisper something to her but didn't make out what it was. A moment later the servant disappeared through a side door and the two women left the ballroom.

***

After hiking up a few flights of stairs Zelda and Jade emerged onto a large balcony looking over Castle Town and Hyrule Field beyond. Braziers had be lit along the walls and flags fluttered in the orange light. A few stars were visible overhead but clouds had drifted in, obscuring the view.

"I haven't been up here before!" Jade exclaimed, walking over to the banister and leaning over the edge slightly.

In an instant she felt Zelda approach behind her. Jade turned around so they stood face to face. But she didn't have long to register her rurprise before the Princess's lips were on hers. Jade's eyes flew wide open as Zelda's lips crashed into hers. For a moment she was frozen with surprise but slowly her inhibitions relaxed and the warmth of Zelda's embrace coursed through her. Pressed between Zelda and the balcony, Jade had no where to go. Not that she wanted to. The Princess of Hyrule had snuck out of an important ball to be with her. Jade wasn't going to waste a moment of this never-ending luck.

"Mmm, Zelda," she said with a huff, as she tries to draw air into her lungs. Jade didn't want to stop kissing Zelda, but she also needed to breathe.

"I've been wanting to do that all night," Zelda sighed, closing her eyes and touching her fingers to her lips.

"You have?" Jade asked hopefully, as she wrapped her arms around Zelda's middle.

"Uh huh." Zelda nodded, bitting her lower lip. "And now I don't want to stop."

She leaned in for another kiss and this time Jade wasn't so hesitant. After a while their tongues met and Zelda moaned at the feeling of Jade's tongue dancing inside her mouth. She pressed her breasts against Jade's body and relished in the tingling sensation building inside her.

"Zelda," Jade uttered, trying to speak between Zelda's insistant kisses. "Zelda," she said again, more firmly.

"What wrong?" Zelda asked, her eyes filled with hunger for the woman standing before her.

"Nothing's wrong, but don't you think we should find somewhere more private?"

"Oh I hoped you'd say that. But I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable," Zelda sighed, seemingly relieved. "We can go to my chambers. No one will disturb us up there."

A short while later Jade found herself being bustled through the door to Zelda's chamber. It was a large room with an enormous fireplace and a large four poster bed to one side. The rest of the room was a blur as Zelda pulled Jade to one side towards another door. Upon opening it, Jade found a circular room with an enormous bath tub sunken into the centre. The pungent scents of lavender and rose pettles wafted out towards them along with a good amount of steam.

"I asked my maid servant to draw us a bath. That's why we had to take our little detour to the balcony. Would you like to have a bath with me Jade?" Zelda explained a little bashfully.

A smile of surprise and joy wove across Jade's face, as she turned to Zelda and cupped her cheek with her hand.

"Nothing in the world would make me happier Princess," Jade insisted. Touching her forehead to Zelda's before kissing her softly.

Zelda couldn't help but let out a giddy chuckle as she tugged Jade behind her into the bathroom. Closing the door behind them Zelda began to unfasten the belt over her dress, fumbling with eager fingers.

"Here, let me. I know a think or two about dressing royals." Jade insisted, laughing at how Zelda could be so assertive, yet struggled to undress herself.

Begrudgingly Zelda allowed Jade to help remove her dress and her corset. Though it's familiar embrace was quickly replaced by Jade's hands on either side of Zelda's hips. Tugging the princess closer Jade kissed her, pulling Zelda as close as the world would let her.

"Am I having this bath alone ore are you going to join me?" Zelda teased, as she slipped off her stockings and her underwear, now standing fully naked before Jade.

"Um," Jade hesitated, her mind filled with the naked image of a goddess. She shook herself and began to unfasten her own dress. "I'm right behind you, I promise."

Zelda smiled and stepped down into the bath in the middle of the floor. Bubbles and rose pettles drifted away from her as she sent small ripples across the surface. Sinking down to her shoulders Zelda turned and watched while Jade undressed. She allowed the velvet dress to fall away and pool on the floor where it landed with a muffled flump. Jade's hooded eyes caught Zelda watching her, so she made a little more of a show of taking off the rest of her clothes.

She took her time unhooking the front fastenings of her corset before tugging her slip off over her head. Jade kicked off her heals and slipped her underwear down to her ankles before stepping out. Zelda's heart raced watching Jade undress for her. Every moment sent shudders of anticipation racing through her. It was a fantastic extra treat she hadn't expected.

Eventually Jade stepped forwards and dropped into the bath opposite Zelda. The water was hot and the bath was deep enough to stand up in, though there were places one could sit down around the edge. Zelda moved closer to Jade and once again tried to pin her against a wall. But Jade realised what Zelda wanted to do and submerged herself in the water. Disappearing beneath the bubbles, Zelda couldn't see where Jade had gone.

A moment later Jade popped back up through the surface of the water behind Zelda. The Princess gasped as Jade's wet hands snaked around Zelda's body to settle on her chest. With a groan from Zelda, Jade began massaging and squeezing Zelda's breasts. One of Zelda's hands reached back and rested on Jade's wet hair, while the other found her hip.

"How would my Princess like to have her bath? Clean? Or dirty?" Jade hummed in Zelda's ear, giving an extra squeeze to emphasise her last word.

Zelda drew in a shocked breath as she shuddered against the other woman's body.

"That's no choice to offer a princess!" Zelda protested, though she grinned despite her objection.

"I didn't think you wanted me to treat you like a princess. In fact," Jade focused her attention on Zelda's nipples, rolling the perky buds between her fingers and thumbs. "I think that's why you like me. I think you like being treated like a person. A person with needs and desires."

As she spoke Jade stopped playing with one of Zelda's breasts and slowly moved her hand below the water, down Zelda's torso towards her crotch. Zelda shuddered again and tried to turn around, but Jade was stronger then she looked and she was having far too much fun turning Zelda into a puddle in their bath.

Though they both stood in Zelda's bath tub, Jade could feel the difference in wetness as she slid her fingers over Zelda's clit towards her folds. Zelda's breath hitched as Jade started rubbing her middle finger against Zelda's vulva. She grinned as the Princess started to grind herself against Jade's hand and gripped at the wrist playing with her nipple.

"Oh!" Zelda gasped out.

"You didn't give me an answer Zelda. So it's going to be dealers choice. Why don't you go and take a seat on the edge of the tub?" Jade cooed into Zelda's ear, sending more shivers down her spine.

Zelda simply nodded and when Jade released her hold Zelda slowly moved away. With a little effort Zelda pushed herself up out of the water. All the while Jade's eyes were on her ass, watching the water running down Zelda's long golden hair towards her butt. Jade couldn't help but smile as she waded through the water towards Zelda and watched her turn to sit on the edge of the bath.

Jade reached forwards to run her hands up the inside of Zelda's legs. Planting soft kisses as she went, Jade gently pushed Zelda's legs apart. Zelda chuckled to herself and watched eagerly while Jade's hands moved closer and closer to her crotch. Jade pulled Zelda's legs further apart and pressed a thumb into Zelda's clit, making her shriek with the feeling of the sudden stimulation.

"Uh!" Zelda tensed for a moment, but relaxed as Jade began massaging little circles into the sensative bud.

Zelda hummed contentedly to herself while Jade continued to pleasure her clit. Her other fingers slipped easily between her folds and began to slide up and down over her hole. Zelda shuddered and quaked, biting her lip and letting out little gasps of breath. Jade loved every reaction she managed to draw out of Zelda. Every moan and every hitch in her breath. Zelda was her play thing and she was going to enjoy every second she had with her.

Slipping a finger inside Zelda, Jade hooked the digit inside and pushed back and forth. Zelda let out a long laboured groan and her eyelids fluttered for a moment. Jade added another finger, then another, stretching Zelda out to accommodate her soft fingers. The water had wrinkled them slightly but Zelda didn't seem to mind. Jade moved her hand at a steady pace, but the way she was stretching Zelda had her gasping for air. With each little movement Zelda wondered if she might come undone. Jade was doing everything she could to draw Zelda towards her climax, she was close and the ball of tension inside her kept growing and growing. At last, with a forceful thrust from Jade, Zelda came with a shudder that Jade felt up and down her arm.

Jade pulled her sickened fingers out and washed them off in the water. She stared up at the blissed out expression on Zelda's face above her. Her head tipped back, her chest thrust forwards accentuating her breasts. Jade watched in satisfaction as the post high shudders rocked Zelda's body. The Princess leaned back on her arms and let out a long satisfied sigh.

"Oh, oh, I've never cum so fast! Where have you been all my life?" Zelda exclaimed in a breathy voice. Jade chuckled, making little circles on Zelda's thigh with her finger.

"I'm only here to serve your highness," Jade teased.

Zelda leaned forwards and Jade stood on tip toe to reach Zelda's lips. They shared a long kiss before Jade dipped back into the water. As she did so, she eyed Zelda's vulva hungrily.

"Can my Lady take a little more?" Jade asked, a musical note to her voice.

"Hmm, I think I can manage a little more. So long as you allow me to return the favour you at some point."

"Of course," Jade grinned, her eyes hooded as she dropped her head between Zelda's legs.

Once again, words failed Zelda and she let out another cry, as Jade's tongue slid over her folds. Quickly flicking her tongue up and down, Jade pressed her face into Zelda's crotch. The sweet and tangy arhoma of Zelda's body filled her senses. She swirled her tongue around Zelda's hole for a moment before sliding inside. While Jade fucked Zelda with her tongue Zelda couldn't help moving a hand to Jade's head. Her slender fingers tangling up in the woman's hair as she bobbed up and down.

"Fuck! OH Jade! Mmm Fuck!" Was all Zelda could summon to say, while the other woman continued to lap at her entrance.

Zelda's jumbled expressions were all Jade needed to hear. While her tongue continued to slip in and out, she moved a hand towards Zelda's crotch and began to rub her clit in unison.

"Oh Fuck! Oh yes!" Zelda cried out, her voice going up an octave. "Uh, oh, oh, OH!"

Zelda came once more and Jade lapped at the hot sweet cum as it spilled down her chin.

"Good thing we're already in the bath huh?!" Jade asked, a little out of breath as she drew back.

Zelda was no longer sitting upright. She had fallen back onto one elbow, her head dipped down towards her chest. While Jade watched Zelda enjoying her orgasm, she noticed the bath water beginning to cool around her.

"Perhaps we should dry off and get warm. Not that I'm not enjoying our bath," Jade giggled. "But the watter is starting to get cold."

"Of course," Zelda replied in a breathy sigh.

She tucked her feet under her and stood up with some difficulty. Jade watched her carefully, ready to catch Zelda in case she fell back into the tub. A moment later Jade pushed herself up out of the water and joined Zelda by a heated rail on the wall, where large fluffy while towels were hanging waiting for them. Zelda wrapped a towel around Jade's shoulders and gently rubbed her arms and back.

"Mmm, so warm!" Jade hummed.

Zelda smiled as she continued to help Jade to dry off a little. There wasn't much to be done about their wet hair. But neither woman minded too much. Not when Zelda started to guide Jade back into the main chamber towards the enormous bed. She sat down on the edge with a towel wrapped around her chest. As Zelda crossed her legs it fell away slightly exposing her thighs.

"Now, I promised I would return your affections. And I have something you might enjoy trying out." Said Zelda, as she reached down for a drawer in her nightstand beside the bed.

Jade frowned as she watched Zelda pull out an object, an inch and a half in diameter, and 12 inches long.

"Purah and I used some ancient Sheikah tech to build this together. It has a miniature motor inside which emits a steady pulsing rhythm. I've had it for some time now and, believe me when I say it's effects can be extremely... stimulating." Zelda shot Jade a conspiratory smile.

Jade joined her on the bed, sidling close to Zelda and stealing a kiss, as Zelda began explaining far too much technical information about the strange device. Distracted from her explanation their kisses reached fever pitch quickly and the flames ignited by the bath were fanned anew. Jade pulled back to gaze into Zelda’s eyes. She didn’t want this evening to end.

“I believe I promised to return your affections.” Zelda teased, as she pushed Jade onto her back on the bed. Jade was taken by surprise and fell into a fit of giggles, her towel falling from her body.

“Oh Princess are you to ravish me here in your chambers?” Jade mocked light-heartedly.

She still couldn’t quite believe it was real. It all felt like a dream, one she had had several times since arriving in the castle.

“I think I will, but I’ll have to gag you if you don’t keep quiet," Zelda threatened playfully.

Zelda’s tone mocked her official royal tone, but the authority in it had Jade melting beneath her, as Zelda placed kiss after kiss over her collar bone. Moving down her body Zelda placed strategic kisses, teasing Jade relentlessly. Kisses over each breast but only the slightest brush of her lips over her firm nipples. Jade’s back arched to try and entice Zelda to take the bait, but Zelda continued her teasing descent down Jade’s body. Snaking her way down her stomach, Zelda lingered along the top of her pubic area.

“Zelda … please” Jade whispered, barely audibly.

Zelda couldn't resist any longer, she was getting just as excited seeing the affects her teasing was having on Jade. Zelda positioned herself between Jade’s legs and this time making her way up Jade’s thighs she made a beeline for her wet folds. Zelda slowly slid her tongue up and down. Jade's breathing became heavy and laboured as Zelda’s tongue zoned in on the spot that made Jade’s moans louder. Jade’s thighs were stronger than Zelda anticipated for an attendant, but she loved the feel of them pressing her face harder against Jade’s wetness.

With a reluctance Zelda pulled herself away with a gasp. She intended to show Jade something new, and gather extra data on the design of her and Purah’s device. Jade was reeling. She felt like her insides were burning. She wanted Zelda to continue. She wanted her to ride her face. She wanted to fuck Zelda or be fucked by Zelda. She wanted all this and more. She couldn’t think straight. All she knew was that if she didn’t have Zelda that instance she would explode.

Zelda slowly crawled back up to eye level with Jade. “Now that you’re all warmed up, are you up for joining my experiment?”

Zelda pulled the device from behind her, hitting a button on the base. It buzzed and glowed blue as energy seemed to flow through it. Jade was apprehensive, she had never used a device like this one, but she was also incredibly worked up and very much interested in trying the sensations Zelda promised.

“I’m always willing to help the pursuit of science” Jade giggled. Zelda laughed, as she leaned in for a kiss, sloppy and full of passion.

The toy whirred to life in Zelda’s hand, she slowly traced the toy up and down Jade’s wet folds. The device created a low buzzing vibration that Jade had never felt before. It sent sparks of sensations through her body. Jade could only lie back on the bed and hang on as her moans grew louder and louder. Zelda’s hand reached up to fondle one of Jade’s breasts eliciting further gasps and moans of pleasure. Dialling the device up, the vibrations grew more and more intense. Zelda knew from her own experience that this level was particularly good and Jade was clearly also enjoying it. Jade gripped the bed sheets as pleasure filled every part of her body. All her nerves were firing. Zelda knocked the toy up one more setting. Jade’s eyes flew wide as her whole body convulsed. Wave after wave of her orgasm rocked through her.

“ZELDA!” Jade screamed, as she collapsed back onto the bed. Zelda quicky switched off the toy and put it to one side. She carefully laid herself down in Jade’s still twitching arms as she watched the final waves of Jade’s orgasm dissipate.

“So on a scale of 1 – 10 how would you rate your sensations?” Zelda jokingly quizzed Jade.

Jade tried to speak but the incoherent nonsense said more than she could. She resigned herself to a thumbs up, which left both of them in fits of giggles.

[laurelnose]

monster! parasites!

you know how a few days ago i said we weren’t going to talk about monster parasites? that was a fucking lie.

the basis of my monster parasite thoughts are: every organism comes with its own internal ecosystem that goes with them everywhere. it’s like having built-in friends! ergo, when monsters crossed over to the witcher dimension during the Conjunction of Spheres they must have brought many new and delightful parasites with them. you know what fiend manes are full of? MITES. you know what drowners got on their skin? COPEPODS. what can we do with this information? anything we want.

i promise there are no pictures below the cut. i have tried to put warnings on all my sources but click any of the links below at your own risk. warning for internal and external parasites of animals, monsters, humans, and witchers; parasites altering the behavior of their hosts; and probably general body horror. if you read the eating-liver-flukes post that’s probably a decent baseline for how revolting you will find this post. 

also, super obvious bias towards aquatic parasites as referents. my degree is fisheries science not terrestrial ecology so that’s primarily what i’m drawing on even though nearly all of the witcher monsters are terrestrial. there is a TON i’m missing here bc of that bias! specifically i really wish i could talk about how parasites of invasive species often act as co-invaders with their hosts and monsters definitely count as invasive species and would have majorly reshaped ecological interactions on the Continent but i don’t know enough about terrestrial ecosystems to speculate properly. (ETA: while i still think monsters would have majorly reshaped ecological interactions on the Continent, I don’t actually think they’re invasive species anymore!) hopefully you enjoy it anyways!

it is, hilariously, canon that parasites are used for alchemy. according to The Last Wish, the Temple of Melitele’s grotto grows a bunch of different “rare specimens—those which made up the ingredients of a witcher’s medicines and elixirs, magical philters and a sorcerer’s decoctions” and some of those specimens are, uh, “clusters of nematodes.” nematodes being parasitic roundworms. this is really funny because it’s so fucking weird. also everything else in this description is a plant or a fungus and nematodes are definitely animals? i choose to believe the world makes sense and nematodes aren’t plants in the witcherverse. therefore parasites are alchemical ingredients, it’s canon, give me more witchers digging through monster intestines in search of worms and put a nematode colony in the basement of corvo bianco please and thank you

this actually leads right into my personal favorite drowner headcanon (hello yes i’m tumblr user Socks Laurelnose and i am always thinking about drowners)—you know those bits where drowners kind of have red blotches in their skin? those are nematodes, actually, because i said so. the reference is Clavinema mariae, a nematode that infests English sole. the worms are basically harmless but they’re dark red and you can see them through the skin. it freaks people out and makes it hard to sell sole. (IMAGE WARNING: a picture of an infected flatfish. it looks mostly normal but there’s a dark red lesion near the fin.) said lesion is probably a coiled-up Clavinema. sole have so many of these, it’s not even funny (PDF article link, IMAGE WARNING for worms visible underneath skin of flatfishes. relevant images pointing out exactly how many worms on page 5). “but the red parts of drowners could just be flushed from blood”—no. worms. 

okay that was my main specific-parasite-for-specific-monster headcanon (except also succubi probably have a unique species of lice for their hairy legs. but that’s barely even a headcanon, basically all terrestrial vertebrates have a unique species of lice.) i wanted to start with it because i think that everyone should feel free to arbitrarily assign a totally benign but conceptually gross worm to their favorite monsters. why not, yanno? also it probably sets the tone for the rest of this post. 

carrying on: “what monsters might have nematodes, besides drowners,” you may be wondering? probably all of them! all of them are full of nematodes. nematodes are fucking everywhere. allow me to share a deeply unsettling quote from nematologist Nathan Cobb: 

“In short, if all the matter in the universe except the nematodes were swept away, our world would still be dimly recognizable, and if, as disembodied spirits, we could then investigate it, we should find its mountains, hills, vales, rivers, lakes, and oceans represented by a film of nematodes. The location of towns would be decipherable since, for every massing of human beings, there would be a corresponding massing of certain nematodes. Trees would still stand in ghostly rows representing our streets and highways. The location of the various plants and animals would still be decipherable, and, had we sufficient knowledge, in many cases even their species could be determined by an examination of their erstwhile nematode parasites.”

jesus christ! thanks nathan, I hate it. nematodes are usually both benign and microscopic, but we’re talking witchers, we want some parasites we can fuckin get our hands on. sperm whale placentas are sometimes infested with nematodes up to 28 feet long but only a centimeter in diameter (Wikipedia link, no images). like an incredibly awful spaghetti! we don’t really seem to know if this bothers the sperm whales. also, i unfortunately do not know enough about the size of whale organs to tell you how big the placenta is in relation to this worm. the point is: real big monster? REAL BIG NEMATODES.

moving on from nematodes—okay, you know, since i mentioned eating deer liver flukes at the start of this post, let’s just go there. real life flukes max out at about 3 inches long, but hypothetical monster flukes could be much bigger and equally edible if desired. (if you’re wondering what a liver fluke would taste like: the flukes feed on the liver and they have very few organs of their own, so they would taste basically just like liver, just also long and flat like a fruit roll-up. if you’re going there, a witcher should not eat any flatworm live. if they’re digging them out of cockatrice livers or whatnot they should kill them before munching or save to cook later. it would probably be safe to eat one live, but you know that cliche “their tongues battled for dominance”? handling a live flatworm is like a handling very strong and energetic tongue complete with slime, okay, it wouldn’t be nice.)

parasites often need more than one host to complete the life cycle—for instance, Leucochloridium paradoxum (VIDEO WARNING: you may have seen this, it’s the one that makes snail eyes pulsating & green) has a bird stage and a snail stage, and it makes the snails look and act really weird in order to attract the birds. parasites altering host behavior to attract the next host in the life cycle is pretty well-documented; for instance, there’s an eye fluke that can make fish swim near the surface where predators can eat them (New Scientist article link, images of a microscope slide & a normal-looking fish) and a tapeworm that does the same and makes the dark silver fish turn white (JSTOR article, no images). i posit that at least some monsters are accompanied by “ill omens” of animals looking or acting strangely because they become infected with a stage of one of the monster’s parasites—usually, the mechanism is that internal parasites lay eggs that are passed in feces & transmitted that way. witchers who are up on their parasite ecology might be able to identify what monster is hanging around by observing exactly what kind of freaky-looking animals or animal behavior is going on around the area!

(if geralt is involved you may desire to have him explain this totally non-supernatural mechanism for abrupt animal appearance or behavioral changes at excruciating length to the chagrin of all present. or maybe that’s just what i desire. it would be funny okay)

potentially even more hyperspecific application of dual-stage parasites: there’s a dinoflagellate parasite that, when it infects crabs, makes the meat chalky and bitter like aspirin (Smithsonian link, images of healthy crab and microscope slide). geralt hunts down dinner, digs in, and immediately sighs and grabs jaskier’s portion away from him to the poet’s complete bafflement before going to get his swords because judging by the flavor there’s definitely a shishiga nest in this forest. 

like. parasites are one of THE most hyperspecific things in biology. the majority of them have very specific hosts and life cycles, many of them are completely unique to a species, if you think a fictional parasite is too specific to be plausible you’re probably wrong, make it even more specific. “the witcher monster lore is so hyperspecific lol” IT AIN’T TRULY HYPERSPECIFIC UNTIL YOU CAN IDENTIFY EACH MONSTER SPECIES BY ITS UNIQUE PARASITIC LOAD, OKAY.

and, with regards to behavior-affecting parasites, before anyone brings up Cordyceps (Ophiocordyceps, as of 2008): yeah that sure is a thing! if you weren’t aware, just a couple of years ago we found out it actually is not a mind control fungus!! it bypasses the brain entirely and affects the muscles (Arstechnica article, Atlantic article—photos of fuzzy ants and electron microscope pictures of fungi). or as Ed Yong puts it, “The ant ends its life as a prisoner in its own body. Its brain is still in the driver's seat, but the fungus has the wheel.” which is. significantly worse than the brain thing. awesome!! i bet there would absolutely be similar fungal parasites of endrega and arachasae. real Ophiocordyceps still very much does not affect humans, but you know what, if plants can be cursed into becoming archespores and cultivated by mages i see no reason why mages could not also curse endrega fungus to affect humans, just saying

aaaand quickly back to hyperspecificity: monsters in different geographical areas having different abilities because of their symbionts. forktails in vicovaro acquire a bioluminescent symbiont in their diet that forktails in other parts of the continent can’t get, and they can create flashes of light? that’s sure gonna fuck a witcher on Cat up when he comes in the cave expecting a normal forktail. (geographic location affecting bioluminescence is a thing that actually happens in midshipman fish—Wikipedia link, no parasites.) geographically-dependent symbionts can also produce different toxins and such for their hosts! this isn’t exactly a parasitism thing per se (although parasites are also symbionts because ‘symbiosis’ refers to two organisms in close association not two organisms in positive association) but like. it’s cool okay ecology is so cool

writing fic and tired of all these same-old monsters-of-the-week? quick and easy way to spice up either the horror factor or just make the hunt stand out slightly: just add parasites!! i know i’ve read fics where monsters were described with distinguishing old wounds. you can do the same with parasites! i would fucking swoon over a detail like an ancient water hag’s eyes glowing in the dark, one of them marred by a dangling parasite—geralt notes the blind spot and presses his advantage. (Wikipedia link, no images: this one is referencing an aquatic copepod called Ommatokoita.) also, please put barnacles on skelliger drowners, i want it so badly. just—some percentage of monsters should be Extra Grody on the inside and/or the outside, that’s how nature works. spicing up a mundane hunt by making the monster a little extra gross for its species is Valid, is what I’m saying.

also, every single time frozen specimens with obvious fungal/ectoparasite infections come into the lab we absolutely always take extra close-up pictures of those suckers and make sure everyone else gets to see them. witchers bringing field sketches and notes of the weirdest shit they found on the path back for winter. lambert declares they’ll never know if this alleged fiend tumor was a fungus or mange because geralt sucks at drawing. eskel, the man who hauled a katakan corpse all the way up the mountain so he could dissect it, produces actual skin samples of his own encounters for examination, possibly in the middle of dinner. this elicits mixed reactions.

quick detour into preservation, since I went there—witchers are probably immune to parasites that infect humans by virtue of having pretty different biology to begin with, and probably immune to parasitic infections from other sources by virtue of superhumanly boosted immune systems and all the poison they put into their bodies on a regular basis. picking up a monster parasite would probably not be a big deal for witchers, either in that they have total immunity or that they would only be minimally and briefly affected, but the field of monster biology is likely such that they probably just don’t actually know what would happen to them in the majority of cases. this has potential as a source of battle stories and/or stories intended to freak out trainees, i think. therefore, out of caution, a witcher harvesting/preparing parts for alchemy might want to be sure to treat them first. personally i think all monster parts should be preserved immediately anyways to avoid attracting necrophages, and given that alchemical concoctions in witcherverse are alcohol-based, preservation in strong alcohol is probably the best way to maintain potency and kill basically everything. (cons: alcohol is SUPER heavy and jars are fragile. tissues or organs which are thicker than perhaps half an inch or an inch require additional preparation for the alcohol to penetrate properly. other preservation methods are more efficient for travel. depends on how soon your witcher intends to use or offload their stash.)

also, here’s an absolutely wild marine parasite that would make it worth a witcher’s while to make certain everything was dead! pearlfishes are long eel-like fishes that live inside the anus and respiratory organs (which are attached to the anus) of sea cucumbers, and they have pretty nasty teeth (PDF article link, IMAGE WARNING: dissected sea cucumbers literally stuffed to the gills with pearlfish). the highest number of pearlfish discovered in a single sea cucumber was sixteen (ResearchGate article, free PDF; no images). a different fact: we discovered tiger sharks eat each other in the womb because a researcher got bitten by a fetal tiger shark while he was dissecting the mother (NYT link, no images or parasites). what i’m saying is: parasites are often very small relative to the host and usually harmless to things rummaging around inside, but what if the monster’s parasites were also monstrous. give me a monster that has to be very dead or when you start rummaging around for alchemy ingredients the things in its intestines will lunge out and bite you. 

what happens if a human becomes infected with a monster parasite? bad things, probably, i mentioned before that parasites in the wrong host, if they don’t just die, often super fuck things up internally (if you get tapeworms outside of the intestine where they’re supposed to be... it’s not good y’all. CDC link, no images). host-jumping for parasites is actually fairly rare since most of them are highly specialized for their hosts, but it does happen. humans are very not my strong suit so i’m not going to dwell on this but it is entirely possible that something like necrophage infestations or monster-contaminated water sources or just being a little too involved on a witcher’s monster hunt could produce strange parasitic diseases in humans. up to you how well-known and/or how clouded in superstition these effects might be! opportunities for hideous whump? gross body horror? messy and horrifying parasite-driven behavioral changes? terrifying and potentially prolonged uncertainty over what the issue actually is because of minimal information about parasites? the decision whether or not to dose with a witcher potion? excellent possibilities.

okay last one, just because i think it would be fun: myxosporeans and sirens. Myxos are a parasitic relative of jellyfish that produce whirling disease in baby salmon. whirling disease causes neurological and skeletal damage and has a pretty high mortality rate, but it also makes infected fish do this, well, whirling behavior and it’s honestly fascinating. (video link: a pretty normal-looking young trout spinning like a fuckin top). imagine a siren doing that in the sky. i just think myxos are neat!

tl;dr: extra grody hyperspecific biology of monsters!!!

[the-iceni-bitch]

I Swear I Won’t Tease You

Pairing: mob boss!Lloyd Hansen x femme!reader (le grand homme and coquinette, Poison Paradise AU)

Words: ~2.1k

Summary: Lloyd is fascinated by you from the start.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (public sex, minor degradation, lil bit of choking, pussy petting, over the panties stuff, Lloyd’s filthy mouth, some biting), alcohol consumption, thievery, lots of French pet names, mentions of violence, Lloyd is a charismatic asshole, mentions of prostitution, klepto reader, meet “cute”? SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: Holy shit, I’m in love with Lloyd Hansen. That psycho woke up my muse in a big way, so be prepared for a bunch of shit starring this asshole for the near future. I literally wrote this in one day and I don’t know how long it’s been since that happened!

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!!!

Lloyd cracked his neck as he walked into the packed Paris club, rolling his head on his shoulders and growling to himself as he made his way to the bar, his two bodyguards trailing after him. As much as he loved his work, sometimes he hated the travel, especially when it came to having to deal with the unwashed, stuck up frogs in this loser of a country. If he hadn’t desperately needed a drink after slicing that asshole's face off, he would have just made his way back to the hotel and planned on taking the jet back to the states first thing in the morning.

“Find a goddamn phone and let Fowler know Jeanette’s gonna be sending the new batch of girls out in a week.” Lloyd nodded at Brutus after ordering himself a Glenlivet, hissing when he took a gulp and felt the warm liquor burn his throat. “And if Walker is there, tell him I don’t want to see his face for a fucking month and that his twat of a gun contact is now a dead twat.”

“Walker’s not gonna like that boss.” The giant meat head shrugged uncomfortably when Lloyd turned his glare to him before ordering another drink.

“You really think I give a fuck? Do your damn job.” Lloyd snarled as the dumbass finally walked away, sipping on his second scotch slowly and leaning against the bar as he surveyed the crowd that was packed into the club. “Morons.”

Even as the liquor started to relax him he was regretting his choice of venue for his drink, especially when some dick in a white suit knocked into him and almost made him spill. Maybe he’d just find some desperate thing to take back to his hotel and break the bed with, since he hadn’t gotten to test out the new whores like he normally would and filleting that cunt hadn’t gotten out as much aggression as he had expected. He wanted to ruin something, and there seemed to be plenty of dumb little sluts here that were just ripe for the picking.

Oh, wait just a fucking minute. Who the hell were you? In that sweet little pink dress and those heels that pretty much guarantee you couldn’t run away from anyone, though you were still managing to put off every single douche bag that was coming up to you with a shy little smile and big eyes that made you look like the picture of chaste innocence that would be perfect to ruin. Yeah, he was going to make you cry the prettiest fucking tears he’d ever seen.

“Foutez le camp d'ici.” Lloyd growled at the dumbass who was trying to put his hand on your arm as he flirted impotently with you, scowling at him until he scurried away before turning back to you with a wicked grin. “Bonjour, chérie.”

“Bonjour.” You tilted your chin down and gazed at him through your lashes as you bit your lip, and holy fuck did he want to watch you choke on his cock. “Je suis désolé…”

“Vous êtes américain?” He wasn’t going to let you finish that thought, twirling his ring around his pinky as he grinned when you gave him a small nod. There was no way he was leaving this club without at least tasting your lips, and you seemed like the type who just needed to be told what to do. “Ah, me too. What are you doing in Paris, pretty girl?”

“Just… seeing the sights, taking in some culture.” You let out a small sigh as you watched him carefully, cocking your head when he lifted his drink to his lips and the ruby on his ring caught the light. “Enjoying the beautiful things the city has to offer.”

“Hmm, as well you should, chaton.” Lloyd dragged his tongue over his bottom lip when the press of the crowd forced you to step closer to him, reaching out to slowly trace his fingertips along the curve of your shoulder and down your arm. “A course, there isn’t anything here as beautiful as you.” The way you giggled and batted your eyelashes at him let him know he had you, he wondered if you were a virgin, god that would make it even better. “Finish your drink so you can dance with me, poupée.”

You purred when he took your glass from you and set it on the bar once you had finished, sighing softly when he grabbed your hand and pressed some kisses over your knuckles before leading you towards the dance floor. As soon as the two of you reached the floor he was pulling you close and sliding his hands down your back until he was squeezing your hips, letting out a soft growl when you gasped as you braced your palms against his chest, scowling at his remaining bodyguard over your shoulder and jerking his head at him so he would fucking get lost. Lloyd couldn’t believe how goddamn soft you were, he was gonna bruise you the fuck up.

“What’s your name, ma douce?” He ducked even closer to you and groaned appreciatively when you told him, dragging his cheek over your temple and fighting the urge to smack your ass at the feeling of your hips rolling against his. “Mmm, that’s lovely. My name’s Lloyd, sweet thing. I want you to remember that when I make you scream later tonight.”

“Lloyd, you’re so forward.” You gave him a teasing pout before whining softly when he turned you around and wrapped his arms around your waist, winding your fingers through his and gasping when he pressed his lips to the side of your neck. “But I have such an early tour tomorrow, I have to go soon.”

“Oh non, mon ami.” His voice was a soothing purr as he started guiding you towards an empty corner of the club once the song changed, trailing his lips up your jaw until he could bite your ear. “No, I’ll make you feel so good, ma chére. Need more than just a taste of you.” If he didn’t get to at least finger you he was gonna be in a mood tomorrow.

“What if I… hmm.” You moaned when he cut you off by gripping your jaw and tilting your head back so he could smash his lips to yours, pressing your body against the wall and sliding his other hand down the curve of your hip until he could grip the edge of your skirt and start to drag it up your thigh. “I can give you my hotel’s number and we can set something up for later this week.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna work for me, darling.” He slid his knee between your legs to force them open while you planted heavily into his mouth, swallowing your soft whimper with a grin when he brushed his fingertips over the damp lace that was covering your core. “I just need one, promise I’ll be quick.”

The only response you could give him once he rubbed your clit over your panties was a tiny moan, your mouth falling open when he started circling your swollen bud harshly and letting him shove his fingers between your teeth and press on the back of your tongue until you were drooling all over his hand. Lloyd watched your face with a wicked glint in his eye while he watched you fall apart under his touch, cooing demeaningly against your cheek when he felt you shaking in his arms and tears started leaking from the corners of your eyes, his achingly hard cock pulsing in his slacks as he ground it against your perfect ass.

“Look at you, I thought you were a good girl, ma douce. But here you are about to come like a little slut in front of all these people just from having this sweet little pussy pet a tiny bit.” He bit your cheek and groaned when you sobbed around his fingers, your cunt throbbing under his hand when he gave your clit a sharp smack. “So fucking easy, you gonna cream your pretty panties, chérie? Do it, I want you to come for me, ma petite pute. Make a fucking mess of yourself, come the fuck on.”

The sudden dig of his fingernail against your clit through the lace had your eyes rolling back in your head as your legs almost gave out, your pussy clenching and fluttering around nothing while cream flowed out of you and soaked right through your panties, staining Lloyd’s fingers as he growled against your skin. He pressed you closer to the wall as your body vibrated with pleasure, caging you in his arms and burying his face in your hair as his cock throbbed and twitched until he was filling his briefs with a snarl. You swallowed thickly when he finally pulled his fingers from between your lips, looking at him with glassy eyes as he dragged his nose over your cheek with a deep purr.

“What a pretty thing you are, can you even talk, ami?” His chuckle was dark when you just panted and licked your lips as you whimpered for him, giving your cunt a pat like a good bitch before pulling your skirt back down. “Poor baby, you’re gonna give me your number so I can ruin you again next time I need a good fuck and I’m in the area:”

“O-okay.” You gasped when you turned around and pulled a card out of your clutch, giving it to him with a trembling hand that he gripped to press kisses over your wrist as he tucked the card into his breast pocket. “I-I really do have to go.”

“Alright, chérie, you take care.” Lloyd leaned close and kissed your cheek almost tenderly. “I hope you think about me next time you touch yourself. I might even think of you, petite colombe. You’re almost too sweet for your own good.”

You just swallowed thickly when he finally let you go, wiping the back of your hand over your ruined face and squeezing your thighs together as you walked away after giving him a quizzical smile. Lloyd found something about you puzzlingly endearing, like he’d only barely scratched the surface of what you would let him do to you, maybe even of what you could do to him. He didn’t feel like you were just a typical pump and dump, he actually wanted to see your pretty face again.

“Ready to go boss?” Lloyd actually didn’t feel like tearing the man’s throat out when he opened his stupid mouth, how refreshing.

“Yeah, let me just pay.” He frowned when he reached into his back pocket and didn’t find his money clip, the furrow between his brows deepening when it wasn’t in any of his other pockets either. “What the fuck? Where’s my damn money?”

“Your ring’s missing too, boss.” Brutus took a step back when Lloyd snarled at him, his magnanimous mood evaporating when he looked at his hand and found that the signet ring that never left his pinkie was in fact gone.

“What in the… oh ho, oh shit!” Lloyd couldn’t help himself, he started laughing when the realization hit him, cackling wildly and doubling over for a minute before he finally got himself under control again. “Oh, that tricky little bitch, she fucking robbed me! Fuck, she’s got some balls on her. Change of plans boys, looks like we’re gonna be sticking around Paris a little longer. I’ve got a pretty little thief to track down. Ooh, this is gonna be fun. I’m fucking excited.”

You grinned to yourself as you reached your motorcycle you had parked a few blocks away, spitting the ring out from where you had it tucked under your tongue and admiring it before sliding it onto your ring finger. The fact that it fit perfectly was like fate, making you wiggle your fingers so it caught the light as you sat on the bike. You plucked the money clip from inside your bra and flipped through its contents, giggling at the size of the bills and the Eurocard. The ring was what you couldn’t stop playing with, though, that had caught your eye and made you let that gorgeous but intimidating man touch you however he wanted. ‘Lloyd Hansen’ sure seemed like he could be a lot of fun. Too bad you were never going to see him again.

A/N: Don’t worry, she’s definitely gonna see him again 😘

[cassandraclare]

I'm sorry to hear that your hard work was leaked but I was curious about what happened. I hope the person faced consequences because that was a very selfish thing to do leaking your work like that :(

I haven’t taken action against the person who leaked the book. I know who they are, since they uploaded the page I signed for them, and I was able to match that against my records. 

I haven’t refrained from taking action because I feel sympathy for them. I don’t. It’s beyond shitty behavior to receive an early, signed book as a gift, and to then leak the entire book online. It’s a shit thing to do to the authors and an equally shit thing to do to other fans. However, I don’t want to put myself (and Wes) through the exhausting, grim and expensive process of legal repercussions. It doesn’t mean what this person did isn’t horrible, and it doesn’t mean they haven’t cost the entire fandom any chance of there ever being an early contest giveaway like that again. They did. There never will be. There will be no ARCs of Chain of Iron, either, and you can thank them for that, too. 

Part of what makes piracy such an issue for authors goes far beyond the individual assholes who upload and distribute and translate stolen books. It’s that the whole system is set up to make it incredibly difficult for us to do anything about it. Publishers do little to nothing to prevent piracy, and authors shoulder the entire burden of searching out and reporting illegal copies of their books. And even then, we’re dependent on whether or not the reported website feels like complying with copyright laws or not. Twitter is incredibly slow to respond, Tumblr is about fifty-fifty on bothering at all. They’re legally required to take action, but they also know that the effort of doing something about it if they do not falls on exhausted, overburdened artists who often can’t afford to follow up with a lawyer’s letter.

And like, I get being broke and wanting to read books; there were a lot of books I had to pass up reading when I was broke (I will be forever grateful to the library system of New York and Brooklyn, which is how I read books at all from about 2001-2004.) I was broke enough that I slept on a bare mattress because I couldn’t afford sheets, but I’m pretty sure if I broke into Bed, Bath and Beyond and stole a bunch of fitted percale bedding I wouldn’t have encountered much sympathy if I got caught. 

I talked about this on Twitter before, and I’ll say it again here though I know it will make very little difference: pirating books doesn’t just hurt the author of those books. It hurts everyone at the publishing company, where the margin of profit is razor-thin (and yes, publishers should do more to protect themselves against piracy; I agree there); it hurts bookstores, especially indie bookstores (I remember doing an event at a store that told me, sadly, that they were likely going to have to close because people “came into the store, looked at the books, took notes, then went home and pirated them.”) It hurts libraries, who rely on circulation for funding, and the shutting down of libraries hurts people who actually can’t afford books.

Now, I know is no way to talk people out of piracy; the internet has normalized it, and besides, people will generally do the cheaper, easier thing — you can’t talk people into not doing something they want to do by telling them it’s wrong, in my experience. They’ll find ways to justify it, whether it be that they can’t afford the book or it isn’t yet available in their language or that they find the author “problematic” and this is the way they’ve chosen to punish them. 

The reason I put “problematic” in quotes is because yes, of course you can read and enjoy work that has problematic elements. Pretty much everything has some element that’s going to be found problematic by someone — which is exactly why deciding that it’s morally excusable to steal from people you think are creating flawed work is more than problematic. Holding creators accountable for their work means critiquing that work, not stealing it.

I listen to a lot of political podcasts, and some of them review work by extreme right-wing politicians etc. who have written books that the podcasters find morally despicable but wish to, or need to, review and discuss. Since they don’t wish to give money to the authors, they buy second-hand copies or take the book out of the library. They certainly don’t steal, translate and distribute copies of the books because they genuinely do not like them and do not want more people reading them. That’s what it looks like when you have an actual moral problem with a book or author. 

However, running multiple fan accounts for a book series, naming your internet identity after characters from that book series, and talking endlessly about “your favorite parts” and how this is “your favorite book” entirely invalidates any argument that you’re doing this because you think the books are bad, evil, etc. If you claim a book is actively homophobic or racist but are so desperate to read it that you’ll steal it, so excited about it that you’ll share that stolen copy, so obsessed that you’ll illegally translate a whole book and provide that stolen translation to as many people as possible, and so dedicated to the fandom that you’ll name yourself after the characters in the books and write poetry about them, I have to tell you: the last thing that looks like is that you actually find the books problematic, regardless of what you say to the contrary. It looks like you like them but don’t want to pay for them, because in fact, that’s the case. (Either that or it looks like you’re really into racist, homophobic books, and making sure as many people read them as possible, which is your problem.)

One of the issues I have with piracy is that it teaches you to hate creators. You have to hate them, because you’re doing a fucking awful thing to them and you have to justify it. This results in lying about creators — about their process, their translations, their research — as if somehow, even if they were bad researchers, that would justify widespread theft. (It doesn’t.) Those who steal books wind up in a headspace where they are obsessed with the content of the books, and entirely unwilling to accept the reality that those books were created by a real person that they’re really harming. It encourages the mentality that I didn’t create Jem or Magnus or Will or Cordelia: they came from some kind of sparkly outerspace planet and I was just lucky enough to get to write down their adventures. It invalidates the hard work creators put into what they create, and in fact, erases their very existence. The internet attitude toward creators is already incredibly toxic (especially if they’re women, LGBT+ and/or BIPOC) and the feeling of entitlement to free content, and vicious hatred toward those who aren’t providing it (even though a lot of creators, me included, provide a great deal of free content) contributes to that. Genuinely, if you’re stealing someone’s work, the least you could do is not also be an asshole about them. (Or pretend you’re Robin Hood. He stole from the rich who had taken property and goods from the poor, and returned that stolen wealth. He didn’t steal from artists and independent bookstores and use that stealing to benefit himself and his friends. The idea is actually kind of funny.) 

 I understand there is a pressure to be up to date on the books that are being released so as to participate in fandom, and I do get that. Unfortunately, piracy has real consequences that stretch beyond just hurting me and Wes. Because LGBT+ books are pirated at such an incredible rate, and we’ve definitely seen that with TEC, I am left wondering if there will ever be an actual Spanish translation of TEC, or whether the publisher will decide not to bother because it’s already been so thoroughly pirated in Spanish. I have to wonder if there will even be a third book of TEC at all, or whether publishers will feel it isn’t worth doing. And I have to wonder why the people who create this situation so often have usernames that include Jem or Magnus or Alec or Cordelia or Julian or Tessa. What an incredible misunderstanding of those characters, to imagine a world in which Will Herondale or Magnus Bane or James Carstairs would approve of stealing books and harming writers. And why name yourself after a character who absolutely couldn’t stand you? I don’t know. I don’t get it, any more than I get hating someone who provided you with something you claim is your favorite book. 

That was a much longer answer than you were probably expecting or hoping for, and I know I’ll get yelled at quite thoroughly for writing it. Writers always do, when we engage with the issue of piracy. I know most of you reading this acquire your books honestly; most of you are not like this at all. But like most things on the internet, a small amount of people really do have the power to make things pretty rotten for everyone else.

[lauralestrange7]

Oliver Wood x Slytherin!reader

This is my second Oliver Wood x reader, Please comment below your thoughts on my attempt. This in particular is a Slytherin female reader story. My requests are open 🌸 🌻🌼 @mais-e

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

Oliver sighed looking at the door to the library and back out a window looking endearingly at the empty quidditch pitch. “Ugh I need to do this,” he said to himself in a tone of frustration, and with another glance at the barren grounds he shook his head before walking inside the doors. It was a sunny Saturday morning and he also had a perfect practice session planned, but during dinner last night Mcgonagall had asked to have a word with him. Which turned out to be far worse than he had expected, she had told him how his OWLs were just in the matter of a few months and that he had not been doing so well in a few subjects. And that she could not have that, “Wood I appreciate your effort and enthusiasm in Quidditch, but if you fail in another assignment I will be forced to take you off the team.” 

So of course here he was, as much as he would like to be otherwise, even though the quidditch pitch seemed to be calling him. Here he was in the library with a bunch of students with their noses in their books. He started walking towards the shelves that would help him with his Divination homework. And as he was making his way there he tripped; on a leg? that belonged to- he looked up and there standing with her arms crossed, wearing her face in a smirk was Y/n L/n. Oliver rolled his eyes “Cut it out L/n” he said trying to walk past him, he was not up for this right now. Y/n was his first friend at Hogwarts, she was also his first best friend they had first met on the Hogwarts Express in their first year at Hogwarts. But the two of them were sorted in different house, Oliver in Gryffindor and Y/n in Slytherin. They still used to hang out together until their third year as Oliver’s quidditch obsession and their house rivalries started to get in the way of their friendship. So now the only way the two have any conversation was when one of them was trying to get under the other’s skin. 

“So did you loose your broom in library Woody?” Y/n said following Oliver as he tried to choose which books would be helpful. “Ha ha” he faked a laugh “No seriously what are you doing in here?” Y/n asked raising her eyebrows, Oliver sighed looking at her. He hadn’t told anyone about what Mcgonagall had said to him last night, not even Percy, who had asked him rather curiously when he came back to his dorm. “I-” he started but then stopped thinking ‘Is it worth telling her?’ but then again he had to get it out. “Er Mcgonagall told me if I don’t get better grades, I’ll have be taken off the team.” He finished looking down at his feet. Of course he was embarrassed but there was also a feeling of contentment after all, she was his best friend. They used to share everything with each other, he was expecting some sort of rude remark but he got nothing. “Well I’ll help you, if you are want” she said softly “What?” Oliver said he was so not expecting this “I said if it doesn’t hurt your ego too much, I’m willing to help you with your grades.” 

                                              Time Skip 

And so here he was with nine O.W.Ls he couldn’t believe it, his parents were both very pleased, and he couldn’t stop smiling all day. So when he returned for his next term at Hogwarts he knew he had to thank someone, he walked inside the Great Hall with his friends. They were all excited for the new school year and also the journey from King’s Cross station had been tiring. Everyone was waiting for the welcoming feast to start. Oliver looked over to the Slytherin Table, he spotted Y/n and then stood up from his sat and walked over to her. Marcus Flint and his team mates were glaring at him as he did so. “Uh hey”  he said taking the seat across Y/n, she looked at him “Hello” she said a small smile peeking from the corner of her lip. “Well I owe you,” he said looking at her “You don’t owe me nothing” she said a slightly annoyed look on her face, ‘of course’ she thought ‘Why else would he come over to talk?’. “I do,” he said “I got nine O.W.Ls, I don’t think I would’ve managed five if you hadn’t help.” he stated with a slight chuckle. “But you-” Y/n started protesting however Oliver cut her off “No I’m not hearing any of it, I owe you therefore I’d like to take you out next hogsmeade weekend.” he said a smile playing on his lips. “What.?” Y/n asked absolutely not have been expecting this Oliver rolled his eyes standing up “You heard me.” he said before winking at her and walking off.

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

Comment, reblog and follow for second part. Have a good day!

[writtenjewels]

Tradition part 3

Part One, Part Two

Cullen woke early and went to the nearby river to splash cold water on his face. He tried to reconcile the past few hours with himself and figure out what he was to do about it. It was no good pretending he hadn't enjoyed last night. The soft feel of Dorian's lips on his, the gentle tickle of his mustache on Cullen's skin, how the mage said his name... It ignited something inside him.

The ceremony had been ridiculous, but without it, would Dorian had ever made the move to kiss him? Cullen certainly wouldn't have done so; he would have been content to sit in the garden playing chess and exchanging light teases back and forth. He liked Dorian's visits to the training yard and occasionally coming up to the library to deliver new books for Dorian's perusal. But to take those feelings, admit they added up to attraction, and act on it? No, Cullen wouldn't have done it.

Had Dorian even done it out of attraction? It was hard to tell with the mage. Dorian admitted he hadn't thought Cullen would allow that first kiss, so that one had to have been a joke. But all the rest from last night... Dorian sucking on his lip, tongue gliding between, hands in Cullen's hair. What had the mage meant by all that? More teasing?

He sighed and wiped the water off his face. He returned to camp and started cooking meat for their morning meal. Varric was eventually roused by the smell. He set about making some coffee while waiting for the food to be ready.

“What's keeping Dorian?” Cullen wondered.

“Don't ask me; he's your husband.”

“Where's the person you married in that ceremony?” Cullen demanded as he gave the fire an extra poke. He kept telling himself that the ceremony wasn't real but hearing that word made his heart give a funny jump. Especially the way Dorian had purred it out last night.

“I don't know, I came through here years ago. There were a bunch of us passing through. Can't even remember who I was in the ceremony with.”

“Seems a very strange tradition if they just pair two people together randomly,” Cullen commented.

“I don't think they get a lot of travelers, honestly. And they're a weird bunch. I think the ceremony's supposed to be a rite of passage or honoring their connection to the earth and sun. Something like that.” Varric shrugged his shoulders. “You and Sparkler didn't seem to mind, so... happy fit, I guess.”

Cullen poked at the fire again. No, he hadn't minded one part of the ceremony. Nor had he minded any part of last night. “I'm going to wake up Dorian,” he announced, rising to his feet. He headed over to the mage's tent and opened the flap. He stared at the interior blankly for a moment before pulling back. “He's gone.”

“That's not like him.” Cullen agreed. Where could the mage had gone? He thought through possibilities and came upon one that seemed feasible. He headed back to the river and followed it down until he stumbled upon a pile of clothing.

Dorian stood in the water up to his shins. His back was to Cullen, giving the commander a view of his bare back and firm ass. The mage's dark skin seemed to glow in the morning light. Cullen shook his head and cleared his throat.

“You need to tell someone next time you decide to wander off.”

“So sorry,” the mage responded, turning to flash a smile. He was being far too casual about his nudity. “Couldn't stand all the dust and dirt any longer. Were you worried?”

“Of course I was. You left without telling anyone!” Cullen kept his eyes trained on the other man's face so he wouldn't see... anything else. “You know, out in the wild most people still wear their clothes when they bathe.”

“I'm a mage,” Dorian reminded him calmly. “I don't need armor or weapons to protect me.” He splashed himself a few more times before climbing out of the river. “Hand me that cloth, will you?”

“Dorian, you...” Cullen choked on his words. He couldn't seem to make himself move. Dorian waited but when Cullen said no more, he reached for the cloth himself and wiped off the water droplets. Cullen knew he should look away but he couldn't manage it. Watching the man's shoulder muscles flex was mesmerizing.

“Going to help me dress, husband?” Dorian asked him teasingly.

“I'm not...” Cullen finally turned his eyes away. “I'm watching for trouble.” He turned his back for emphasis and Dorian chuckled. A few minutes later he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“I'm decent now.”

“You're never decent,” Cullen argued. “Let's get back to camp.” Dorian fell into step next to him and the two walked in relative silence. At least for a few minutes.

“You were much friendlier last night. Are you having regrets?” Cullen didn't answer. “I see.” Dorian let out a sigh. “I thought as much.”

“Dorian, you were missing,” Cullen snapped. “Anything could have happened to you. And then I find you in the river, and you act so casual about it. You could have been hurt, or robbed. I know you're a mage and you can handle yourself but... I was worried.”

“Oh,” Dorian said in a small voice. “I didn't realize. I'm sorry, Cullen.” Cullen's eyes darted to the mage's face. For once there was no teasing smile or glint in the man's eyes. Cullen stared at the mouth, following the line down the man's throat. Damn it all, how would he ever look at Dorian without remembering him naked? “You were looking,” Dorian noted smugly.

“I'm not dead.”

“I didn't think... I didn't realize your interests fell that way.”

“Really?” Cullen stared at him. “Then what the hell did you think last night was? Unless you're suggesting neither of us meant anything by it.” He presented his doubts as a challenge, hoping Dorian would meet them.

“It doesn't have to mean anything.”

“After you keep insisting on calling me 'husband'? After showing off your naked body? After all our chess games and talks?” Cullen huffed. He seized the mage by the chin and forced their eyes to meet. “Look at me and tell me that it doesn't mean anything, husband.”

Dorian stared at him, opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Keeping a firm hold on his chin, Cullen brought their faces closer. He felt Dorian's breath tease him as the mage expelled a shaky sigh. He closed his eyes, keeping his lips slightly parted. Cullen kissed him, swiping his tongue across those parted lips. Dorian trembled slightly in response.

“That's what I thought,” Cullen said, releasing the mage. “Now let's go before Varric starts to wonder what happened to us.” Dorian looked slightly dazed as they started walking again.

“I think I like this side of you, husband.” He spoke the word in a caress, almost like an endearment. Cullen found he didn't mind hearing it.

[vibraniumwing]

what once was mine.

a neville longbottom x reader wherein the reader catches a disease that everyone fears to get, and when the former realizes what was happening, it was all too late.

WARNING: angst, hanahaki!au, mentions of death, major character death

A/N: okay so this is my own entry for my writing challenge !! the chaotic eggs were talking about hanahaki fics and i just couldn’t shake this idea off. i hate writing angst for this little bean but i JUST can’t let this go. 

prompt: healing incantation from tangled.

word count: 3.2k

---

Neville walked through the path of what was once his safe haven, the chilling air biting into his skin as he reached the only tree that was in the middle of the vast land that was littered with flowers.

For the beautiful place that once brought him joy, also gave him despair.

---

You and Nevile got along quite well due to the fact that the two of you grew up next to each other and that you’ve always had this special bond over plants— whether it be magical or just the normal kind— meaning that you mostly bonded over tending to the plants at the greenhouse and helping Professor Sprout during your free time. 

He would usually teach you the magical properties of the plants you’ve studied for in Herbology while you teach him certain meanings and symbolisms for flowers that you’ve studied in your free time. 

---

Neville was making his way to the greenhouse when he heard a gentle voice through the window, peeking through, he saw you gently spray the pots of dittany with water as you quietly sang, 

“Flower, gleam and glow Let your power shine Make the clock reverse Bring back what once was mine”

He mesmerized by the way you carried out the song, capturing him in a trance as you continued to sing and tend to the plant, unaware of his presence,

“Heal what has been hurt Change the Fate's design Save what has been lost Bring back what once was mine”

Your voice growing more silent as you ended the song, only noticing his presence as you turn around and see him looking at you with a rather dazed expression, amazed at what you’ve performed in front of him.

“Nev! how long have you been there?” You question, nearly dropping the watering can, cheeks flushed at the realization that he heard you singing. 

He smiled at you shyly, “Just enough to hear you sing, why have you never told me that you sing so well?” he questioned, jogging to the door and entered the greenhouse, the smile still evident on his lips. 

You shied away from his gaze, “It just never came up as topic, besides my singing abilities aren’t that good.” you now answer, walking back to the table to return the canister and face him, crossing your arms as you lean on the table. “Now I’m guessing you want an answer to why I was singing to them?” Questioning him, motioning to the plants that was in front of you. 

He sheepishly nodded, genuinely curious at your habit. 

Taking a deep breath in, you started to explain, “When I was young, my mom would always sing me this song when she’s healing the small wounds I would get to distract me from the pain, telling me that this song helps to revive what once was in agony.” You answered, walking back over to gently hold the leaves of the magical plant in front of you.

“Then when I started to grow my own garden, I would sing the song to the flowers in my garden when they would show signs of wilting, as if to help them grow back. It’s silly, I know, but I just believe that it helps them in a way.” You finished explaining, looking back at him with an embarrassed expression, still in disbelief that he had finally caught you.

He looked at you incredulously, shocked that you think he would shame you for such a habit. “I don’t think that’s embarrassing, I honestly think it’s adorable.” tone filled with sincerity as he rubbed the nape of his neck, “I would love to learn that song too.”

That was your turn to look at him with disbelief, did he really want to learn the song because of you? 

A huge grin soon came over your lips as you pulled out a tattered leather journal from your bag, handing it over to him. “I might consider teaching you the song if you learn these flowers with me.” You persuaded him, his hands now opening the notebook to see the hand-drawn flowers you’ve designed on the pages, it’s names and meanings beside it.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” 

---

“Hey (Y/N), what do these flowers symbolize?” He asked you one day, pointing to the page that had carnations decorating the page, the name and its meaning missing. 

You leaned over and smiled sadly at the drawing, “Those are red carnations, Nev.” You started off, leaning on your chair as you continued, “You can see that the red varies from a light red hue to a much deeper and rich one, right? Well, the light red carnations symbolizes admiration while the deeper ones mean deep love and affection.”

He eagerly listened to your explanation, nodding once as he motioned for you to finish what you were saying, you bring your hand towards the white and striped variations of the same flower, “The white ones represent pure love and good luck while the striped ones are for the regret of a love one cannot share. “ You finished, giving him an accomplished look as he was amazed. 

“Who knew a single flower and its colors have tons of meanings.” He commented, fingers gently grazing over the surface of the page as he looked at it with awe. 

“Everything has meaning if you look at enough, Nev.”

---

As days passed by, you’ve bonded over the simple journal filled with flowers, spending hours upon hours showing him what they could mean to a person and how you can care for it. 

as the days passed, you also felt your heart slowly sink in deeper into the emotions you swore to never tell. 

---

You were passing by greenhouse when you heard a familiar tune carry out from the windows, stopping by the very last one, you peek to see Neville carefully tending to his Mimbulus Mimbetonia that he bought in that same year, gently watering the plant as he sang.

“Flower, gleam and glow Let your power shine Make the clock reverse Bring back what once was mine”

Admittedly, his voice wasn’t that good but the tenderness in every word he spoke had you swooning; your heart swelled with adoration as he continued to sing, unaware of how you were silently watching him.

You’ve made yourself content with that, just admiring him from the distance; loving him silently from the side.

---

The two of you were in the Great Hall, immersed yet in another session of flowers and symbols, you were explaining to him the meaning of Camellias when you’ve noticed he seemed to be out of focus, staring off into the distance.

You followed his gaze to the group of students who proudly wore their house color of blue, landing on a certain blonde girl who was eating her food quietly, caught in-between two chattering girls.

Upon realization, your throat started to itch, making you wince at the feeling. “Hey Neville, are you still with me?” You asked, clearing your airway as to ease out on the uneasy feeling stirring inside of you.

He instantly snapped out of it and looked back at you with a grin, “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. You were saying?” motioning you to continue, eyes now glued to the flower you had recently drawn. 

“There are called camellias. Generally, they would symbolize love, affection and admiration to a person. However, like what I’ve explained before, the colors vary what their purpose.” You explained, hand reaching over to scratch your throat as the its irritation intensified, “For example, red would mean love and affection.” 

Neville silently nodded, not noticing how you were struggling with your words, “and these are?” he asked, pointing to the pink ones that were alone by the corner of the page.

“Those are pink camellias, those signify a longing for someone,” You finished.

“Your knowledge on these never ceases to amaze me.”

---

Weeks passed and the irritation just worsened, confusing you to no end about what you may have eaten to cause such a state. 

Until you were walking alongside with Neville until you coughed, feeling a rather foreign object in your mouth. You covered your mouth and looked at your friend with wide eyes before running to the lavatory, stumbling to the sink as you release whatever was in your mouth.

It was petals, and not just any petals, it was striped carnation petals.

You stared at the bunch in your hands, rather terrified of the beautiful red to white design it had. 

---

Seemingly enough, every time you would cough up these little monsters, it would be whenever Neville would be looking or talking to Luna. 

Your eyes looked at the amount of petals you had coughed up in just a week, filling the little jar you had hidden halfway through already. Everyday would be a new struggle for you as your breathing would get restricted more and more each time. 

You sat by the window of your dorm and watched how the glass reflected in the moonlight, gently shaking the jar as you watch the petals flutter inside the case, remembering how you 

You had some alone time after telling Neville that you would stay back at Hogwarts rather than go down at Hogsmeade, telling him that you were feeling a little under the weather for such activities. 

He offered to stay back but you said no, telling him to go have fun and enjoy the rest of the day, to which he reluctantly agreed to and left with Seamus and Dean.

You wandered into the library in hopes at you would find something that would answer what you had been currently suffering with. Eyes quickly skimming through the various books until you came across one that explained muggle ailments and illnesses. 

Scanning through the pages, your eyes had caught a picture of lungs that were slowly being filled with petals, “Hanahaki Disease...” you read out loud, your head pulsating at the realization of what you had caught, its severity causing you to tear up. 

‘This disease is stemmed from a love you cannot receive back, the petals usually appear from a certain flower and reminds them of the person they hold dearest.’ You silently read, blinking through the tears as your fingers played with the carnations that laid rest inside your pocket. 

“It’s severity may vary from petals to coughing up the full form of the flowers, the only known cure for this is aside from the reciprocation of love is the removal of the petals, however the devastating side-effect includes the loss of emotions for the said person. This is severely fatal for those who decide to leave it be, death be their mark for those who pretend not to see.” you whispered, fear creeping into your mind at the realization if you get this removed, your love for Neville will also leave

That’s when you’ve decided to leave what you have as it, choosing to endure what may come rather than to lose Neville.

Your hand clutched the container as sobs soon followed, tears freely flowing down your cheeks, “I’d rather fight and endure the pain may give me than to lose the love I have for you, Nev.”

and for the first time in what seems like forever, there were no petals that night.

---

You’ve decided to keep a notebook to keep track on the days you’ve survived with this living hell, writing down what happened within your day and if you have coughed up any petals; small bits and pieces of how you adore your best friend. 

You were by the Greenhouse, hugging your cardigan closer to your body as you admired the beautiful flowers of a rather wilted aconite, drawing the plant as you quietly sang to yourself, 

“Flower, gleam and glow Let your power shine Make the clock reverse Bring back what once was mine”

Bringing comfort to your rather irritated chest as someone joined along, your head whipped to where the sound came from, seeing Neville walk towards you with a rather warm smile, the same smile that you found comfort in, the same one that caused you to be in the predicament that you are right now.

“What are you drawing there?” He had asked, attempting to peek at the notebook which you closed rather quickly. 

You shook your head and hugged the notebook close to your chest, “You can’t look into this yet, Nev. Not yet.” You had said before coughing once more, a single petal escaping your lips. 

He looked at you with concern etched on his face, rubbing your back soothingly. “You’ve been coughing a lot lately, (Y/N), are you alright?” He asked, voice laced with worry as you nodded, giving him a smile as you held onto his hand.

“I’m all good, Neville, don’t worry. It’s just a cold that’s been sticking around for longer.”

---

You crossed out another date on the calendar you’ve made on your journal, signifying you have yet lived another day with this treacherous disease. It’s been three years since the first day you’ve coughed up petals and you still can’t believe you’ve lasted this long.

The longest record for this was for just 5 months, yet here you are now, marching on your way down to the Great Hall with your heart pounding at the realization that you were about to walk into another battle aside from your own.

As chaos soon ensued, you and Neville were on lookout by the other end of the wooden bridge, on the lookout for the pack of death eaters that were bound to invade the castle that way. You were both staring out into the rather pitch black valley, you were chewing the inside of your cheek as your hands grip on the railing, “Nev, before we both get into this, I just want you to know-”

You were about to confess what you felt for him when a loud rumble of feet interrupted, making you both alert and grip onto your wands as you looked into the distance. You grabbed his hand the moment you saw the death eaters viciously towards the entrance when three of them just obliterated into nothing making the rest halt in their tracks,

Neville gave you a knowing look, a rather victorious smile on his lips, “Yeah?! You and whose army?!”, taunting the large crowd who stopped in their tracks. Yet when a single flare landed on Scabior’s want, you immediately tugged on his sleeve, “Nev, we have to run.” as the death eaters rushed inside the gatehouse. 

You instantly took the lead, the both of you fleeing the bridge while avoiding the spells the snatcher was casting on the both of you while Neville casted a few spells to blow up the bridge. 

You were the first one to the end, watching how the bridge fell as your friend disappeared from your sight, “Neville!” You shrieked, Seamus holding you back as you coughed, your throat not handling the rather strenuous thing.

You struggled in Seamus’ grip, sobbing at the thought that your friend might have plummeted to his death when his want re-emerged from where the bridge cut off, his head soon popping out as he supported himself on the ledge, “That went well.” He groaned. 

You wiped your tears and ran towards him, helping him up as you cupped his face, eyes searching any bruises he might have. “Nev, don’t ever scare me like that again.” You sobbed, not minding the fact that every time you had to take a sharp inhale, it felt like glass was being pushed into your lungs because of the flowers growing within your chest. 

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, breath heaving in lots of air as he felt the adrenaline course through his veins, “I’m okay, (Y/N/N). I promise.” he assured, smiling at you rather happily. 

“Hey I hate to break your moment but we have to get back inside the castle now” Ginny spoke up, motioning the two of you to go and stand up. You both looked at each other and stood up, running along with her into the school as you maneuvered through the sea of students trying to flee the scene.

“What were you trying to say earlier, (Y/N)?” Neville had finally asked, glancing at you as he bumped into another student again, you shook your head, choosing not to speak up about your emotions in a time like this, “I’ll tell you once this thing is over, just promise me you’ll stay alive” You said back, giving him a smile which he mirrored, understanding what you meant.

“Ginny! Neville! (Y/N)!  Are you alright?” Harry’s voice soon rang in your ears, watching how Harry took the lass by his side and looked at the both of you with expectancy. You gave him a mere nod while the other spoke up, “Never better! I feel like I could spit fire! You haven’t seen Luna, have you?”

Harry looked at him confused, “Luna?” “I’m mad for her! ‘Think it’s about time I told her since we’d probably both be dead by dawn!” Neville exclaimed, giving you a small pat on the back as he ran up the stairs.

You suddenly felt your airway constrict more as you violently coughed, hunching over as a bunch of petals escaped your mouth, a bit of your own blood trailing down your mouth as you looked at Ginny who was talking with Harry. Despite the painful ringing in your ear and your ragged breath, you shouted at the both of them, “I’ll go this way! Be safe, the both of you!” before running off into the distance, fighting your way through the crowd.

You didn’t know where your feet would take you as you ran until you reached a deserted hallway, making you finally collapse on the floor as you spat out buds of the beautiful carnation and even the flower in its full form. 

With a shaky hand, you grasp onto in, heaving in your last breath before blacking out. 

---

When you woke up next, you heard a voice quietly sing albeit the hoarseness present in it, you found the sense of familiarity in every word, 

“Flower, gleam and glow Let your power shine Make the clock reverse Bring back what once was mine”

The song was cut off by a sob, causing you to stir as your vision was invaded by the bright light, looking down at what seems to be a distraught Neville. “H-Hey.” You managed to croak, wincing at the pain it caused you. 

He looked up at you with bloodshot eyes, “Why didn’t you tell me, (Y/N)? Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, crying harder as you brought your hand up to wipe his tears, silencing his sobs as you sang for one last time, 

“Heal what has been hurt Change the Fate's design Save what has been lost Bring back what once was mine”

Tears of your own spilled as you realized that you have finally reached your end, that with every inhale that you took the exhales got shorter. You weakly cupped his cheek, smiling softly. “I didn’t want you to worry so much, seeing you happy was enough for me.” You explained, eyes exploring the ruins of the Great Hall for one last time.

“Because I’d rather die knowing that I loved someone as great as you, Neville. I’m sorry.” your answer cut off by coughing up the final camellia that escaped your system, giving it to him as you softly sang before drifting off, the cries of what once was your first love floating away.

“What once… was mine.”

---

TAGS: @theweasleyslut​ @violetravens​ @eunoia-kth​ @starlightweasley​ @minty-malfoy​ @glimmering-darling-dolly​ @slytherinsunrise​ @loony-loopy-lupinn​ @dogweedanddeathcaps​ @pastanest​

[gayfictory]

I got inspired by a prompt from @drarrypromptoftheday, it was already filled yet I couldn't sleep and decided to wirte it regardless. Enjoy!

On the quidditch field, there is a kiss cam that is enchanted to land on people with the most chemistry. It lands on Draco and Harry and everyone is shocked.

Draco was actually about to explode.

For the past months he’s been really trying to redeem himself. Merlin knows he’s left most of his beliefs behind and if it wasn’t for some impulsive, gitty comments Potter still can get out of him he could compare to, well - Potter himself.

When he returned to Hogwarts to find out that Muggle Studies are a mandatory subject now (something about Ministry wanting to learn from their mistakes and soften up blood purists a little - Draco approved of the idea more than he let it be known) he decided to tolerate it.Then he found out that some of the things are actually very impressive and he started doing his own research outside of class. He got hooked. As rich as the Hogwarts’ library seemed, there was a very small collection of muggle books. At first he thought he was too proud to ask Granger for help but eventually the curiosity about microbiology won over him. That’s how she introduced him to something called the internet - needless to say he got even more hooked. That's also how she bribed him to stop calling Granger and became Hermione (and to think that a Griffindor actually managed to bribe him. If that didn’t impress him enough to start calling her by her first name the usefulness of his new tool definitely did).

What he didn't know was how he went from having discussions about muggle inventions with Hermione to joining the golden trio on their Hogsmade outing. Potter included. It was awful (it actually wasn't. He enjoyed it a lot. They did it again. And again. And then again with his slytherin friends joining them). So, yeah.

Suddenly wizards seemed to follow Draco's footsteps, because obviosly he's influential like that (he should stop with the narcissistic sarcasm. Some of his new friends still hadn't caught on to what sarcasm is.) started exploring more and more muggle stuff because it was smart and useful, and all that unity shit Draco supported but couldn’t really get past how cheesy those kinds of statements sound. But now a quidditch match was interrupted because he was supposed to kiss Potter. Not smart at all.

He wanted to punch someone actually. He didn’t care that there was a kiss cam or whatever that bloody device was pointed at him right now. But of course he couldn’t do that because he’s a nice boy now or at least that’s what he wanted the people gathered here to think. Oh, and also the Daily Prophet reporter who was aggressively taking notes.

The speaker said something about chemistry, not that Draco paid much attention. Ron’s mouth literally flew wide open. Hermione had her thinking face on for a few seconds before it suddenly beamed with realisation. Ginnevra Wesley looked like she also wanted to punch someone. Or cry. Or actually - both. Draco couldn’t help but feel the corners of his mouth move up a little at the sight. What the fuck. Pansy giggled because of course she did, she heard Draco go on about Harry’s ass enough times to catch on to his crush. It was a nightmare. And Harry. Harry’s face got incredibly red, almost in a raspberry-like shade.

Draco’s only seen this expression once before - there was an incident a few weeks back when Harry burst into his room without knocking to go on his regular rant about how coupley Ron and Hermione are. It wouldn't be anything irregular accept for there may or may not have been wanking involved on Draco’s side. Well.

“You guys should kiss” said Hermione just to break the uncomfortable silence that has fallen between them. “ You’ve heard what they said, the thing is charmed. It picks up on chemistry and won't let go until you kiss like it wants you to” She way way too amsued than a good friend should've been. Suddenly he came to regret all of the decisions he made in the last year. He was completely okay with admiring from afar.

Okay, so there’s no getting out of this. He certainly didn’t imagine his first kiss with Potter to go like this. Not like he was imagining it at all. Of course.

“Well a smooch on the mouth should do” said Draco, trying to hold himself togheter, finally properly turning to Harry. “Can I smooch you on the mouth, Harry?” He asked. Normally he would’ve smirked or just expressed his cockiness in any way possible. This was no normal situation though. His mouth was about to touch Harry Potter’s mouth with a bunch of people watching. Oh, this was definitely no normal situation.

Potter's face went into an even deeper shade of red as mumbled something between a “mhm”, “yes” and “please”. Draco couldn’t tell which one. Potter did not seem very content with his words right now.

He quickly leaned over and brushed Harry’s lips with his. There was a lot of thoughts going trough head right now, the surprise about how soft boy’s lips are stood out first. HOLLY SHIT I JUST KISSED HARRY POTTER took over right after.

He looked around. Everyone was quiet. That bloody machine was still pointed at them.

“Seems like our kiss cam believes you owe us more than a smooch” a voice came from the speakers. “ We can’t really blame it, honestly” like the situation was in any way amusing “The Saviour and the former Death Eater” Draco only pretended not to shrug at that. “ Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, known rivals for years, only recently growing more and more friendly with each other. There sure must be a lot of unresolved tension left after all these years?” The speaker was trying to build up the suspense and Malfoy sure wasn’t gonna give in and give them what they wanted. “Unless, it’s already been resolved?” Draco thought back to the wanking incident and the way Harry has been acting ever since. No it wasn't.

Okay, so it seemed like he was gonna give in after all. You can't blame him.

And suddenly his hands were grabbing Potter’s face, his tongue was burning his way down his mouth. It was hot and filled with excitement, they could feel the magic sparkling between them. There was no one around them, it was just them and their tongue trying to establish who’s the winner here. They didn’t know how long it was before Harry gave in, almost moaning into his mouth, and Draco smiled because 1. He won 2. HE JUST KISSED HARRY POTTER HELLO?? And to think that all those years all he had to do was kiss him.

Well, if Harry let’s him he certainly would like to do a lot of making up for that in the future.

[straight-outta-kaer-morhen]

Scars <Eskel Soulmate AU>

Request from AO3: "Could you so an Eskel/reader with a soulmate AU? Maybe where soulmates have the same scars. Pretty please?"

Sorry it took so long. This fic has been sitting finished for several months, but I couldn't decide if I liked it enough to post. I've never done a soulmate AU, so this was a fun challenge! Anyways, I hope you enjoy! :D

As always, requests are open

Her claws wracked the side of his face. He'd been trying to avoid this meeting, but fate seemed to always have it's way. He was a fool for invoking the law of surprise all those years ago, and an even bigger fool for running from fate.

Looking up at the young girl, he had nothing in his heart but hate. The way she glowered at him he had no doubts she returned his sentiments.

• •• • A cry escaped her as flesh tore. Her hands shot out to grab her cheek. Blood ran freely down her jaw covering her neck. Horrified at the sight of crimson she helplessly tried to staunch the blood flow. The mage in front of her had his back pressed against the wall. Nothing but horror filled his eyes. This was not how the negotiations with Kaedwen were supposed to go. By the look on his face he hadn't attacked her, or cursed her. He fled the room as the pain seared across her cheek.

At some point she recalled being taken to a nurse for treatment, who was only able to bandage the wound, and send the sorceress on her way.

None of the healers could speed up the process of healing. The wound seemed to be healing on its own time. When it finally did heal, she was left with several jagged scars that even ran down her lips. When she looked in the mirror she was horrified by what she saw.

She seeked out Yennefer of Vengerberg’s powers. If anyone could heal the scars it was her. Very few were close to equal with Yennefer’s abilities.

"I cannot fix this." Yennefer declared, her eyes filling with pity. "This is the mark of a soulmate...and nothing can change fate."

"You were so beautiful." Kiera Metz's voice came softly. Y/N could not fathom the pity filled look she received. Her reflection showed several claw mark's adorned her face. They were raised and red.

Beauty wasn't everything she tried to tell herself, but she knew finding a lover would be impossible. Even her so-called soulmate would want nothing to do with her.

Yennefer gripped her shoulder, "beauty isn't everything."

• •• • "What happened to her?" Geralt inquired, his cat eyes falling on the familiar scars that adorned her face.

"It's a sad story." Triss sighed. "She used to have a beautiful face." Triss began, "the kind of face that makes king's launch wars over."

"Prettier than Yen?"

Triss nodded, "she had a softness, a warmth that Yennefer lacked. It drove men absolutely mad." She mused. "One day during negotiations, her face just tore open. It was the damndest thing."

"When?" Geralt inquired, observing the (h/c).

Triss tapped her chin recounting the years, "it had to have been about 20 years ago...give or take a few years."

"Hmmm." Geralt said, catching the woman's (e/c) eyes. She offered him a soft smile from across the room. He gave her a nod, his eyes tracing the scars that lined her lip. They were uncanny to Eskel's.

"No mage or sorceress could heal her." Triss added. "Apparently soulmate scars work differently, it's a power we know little of."

"Soulmate scars? I thought that was an old wives tale." Geralt asked, startled.

"So did I, but the circumstances of how she acquired them...well there is no other explanation for it." She said with a shrug as she took a sip of wine. "I spoke with the mage that witnessed it. His account was hard to discredit."

"The amount of scars a Witcher acquires, well it's hard to put much stock in the idea." Geralt said, taking another drink of his ale.

Triss waved the woman over, "whatever man acquired those, it must have been hell for him from what Y/N described."

"Y/N, this is Geralt." Triss introduced, "he's taken an interest in your scars." She said leaving the two to get acquainted

Her hand immediately shot up to her face covering the scars. "Forgive me for prying," Geralt began, "I have a friend who has similar scars."

Y/N's eyebrows raised, "is he a Witcher too?"

Geralt nodded, "sounds like he got those scars around the time you did."

"That would explain the pain…" Y/N mumbled, sitting at the table. "I'm very sorry for your friend, I know how he feels." She began a small frown pulling at her face. "No matter how kind you are, people tend to avoid things they can't explain."

"Well, I have reason to believe he may be the answer to those scars."

She shook her head, "even so he wouldn't want to see me." (E/c) eyes flickered up at his feline gaze. "I know exactly how I look Geralt. Kings stopped requesting my presence as soon as they saw my face, the lodge will not send me out diplomatically in case another scar decides to show up." Her jaw was set, "I'm quite positive your Witcher friend would not care to see me."

Geralt nodded, "if you change your mind let me know."

• •• •

Winters were perfect for catching up with his brother in arms. Geralt had debated keeping the scarred woman's existence a secret, but ultimately he decided that it was Eskel who should decide.

He broke the news a few weeks into their stay. He'd made sure Vesemir was in the room. If anyone would have more knowledge on the subjects of soulmates it would be the old Witcher.

"I met a sorceress this past fall." Geralt began, soliciting a scoff from Vesemir.

"Did you bed her too?" The grey haired man asked. Soliciting a soft smile from Eskel as he turned the page of his book.

"No, but she had some interesting scars." Geralt commented.

Eskel's eyes shot up, his hand automatically scratching at the scars that lined his lips. "A sorceress who chose not to have them healed? That's unheard of. They tend to be a vain bunch." Vesemir said thoughtfully.

"They tried, but scars involving soulmates is another thing." Geralt peaked up at Eskel to gage his reaction. The Witcher had stiffened, listening intently.

"Soulmates," Vesemir mused. "That is a very rare phenomenon. I can't say I've ever heard of two soulmates actually finding each other."

"Hmm, I saw the scars with my own eyes. Three claw marks on the side of the jaw." Eskel dropped his book.

"Appeared out of nowhere about twenty years ago." Geralt added. "If I hadn't been mistaken by the pair of tits I would have thought it was Eskel."

Eskel's cleared his throat, "it's a coincidence."

"Maybe, but I don't think so."

"Perhaps it's fate forcing you to make things right?" Vesemir in his infinite wisdom had a point. Much to Eskel's dismay.

"If it's fate we'll run into each other." Eskel dismissed.

"Eskel, you can't outrun fate." Vesemir began, "look what happened to you last time."

Geralt sighed, "I didn't tell you this to feel trapped by fate. I thought you had a right to know, I also think you have a right to tell destiny to fuck off if you want."

Eskel seemed to relax a bit, "was she attractive?"

Geralt nodded, "scars and all. Triss says she was once prettier than Yen." He hesitated, "there is something else you should know…"

Eskel leaned forward curiosity getting the better of him.

"She doesn't think you'd wish to see her."

A frown pulled at the dark haired Witcher's lips. He knew all too well what it was like to carry those scars.

Eskel had once been considered a handsome man. He'd never had a hard time finding a lover, and people used to be friendlier. After he acquired the scars, brothels were the only place he could find pleasure, the contracts he took the people looked on him as if he were a feral beast.

"Go talk to her." Lambert's voice echoed through the hall.

"What have I told you about eavesdropping?" Vesemir asked, turning to the youngest Witcher.

"Ah, can it old man." Lambert said, waving him off. "You're always saying you want a lover. If she really is your soulmate, even she can't turn you down."

That was just like Lambert, to throw his opinion out there regardless if it was welcome or not. "I thought you opposed Geralt bringing visitors to Kaer Morhen. You really want me to bring someone too?"

"If it’ll get you laid, I’m willing to take one for the team."

Vesemir rubbed his temples, no one could get on his nerves like the younger Witcher. Bold and brash, Lambert had a tendency to speak without thinking things through. It seemed the mutations could not quell the passion for living that burned inside.

“You have time. Destiny can wait.” Geralt said downing the rest of his ale. “Think on it.” He said, patting Eskel’s shoulder before heading upstairs for the evening.

Vesemir and Lambert were quick to follow, leaving Eskel alone with his thoughts. He turned to the many shelves that lined the wall. The bookshelves had been moved years ago when the library had decayed enough that Vesemir didn't trust it to house his precious tomes. If anyone were to have a book on the subject of soulmates, it would be the old man.

The book was thin and covered in years of dust. Eskel brushed the cover off. The letters had worn off, but the faint engraving of the title could be seen, Love Potions, Relationships, and Soul Mates. Eskel flipped to the title page, how to tell if they're the one, potions to make them fall in love, and tips turning that crush into love.

A small chuckle escaped Eskel's lips. He wondered when the old Witcher had picked this up, and who he was trying to woo. The table of contents indicated the chapter on soulmates started on page 69.

"Soulmates were fated by the gods. The oldest known magic, but very little have studied it. Soulmates could be confirmed by matching scars. It has been speculated that when one soul receives the mark their kindred soul receives it as well.

It is unknown why the other soul experiences the same wound, and pain. Some scholars assume it is to bound the two souls in a mutual understanding.

Soulmate bonds used to be very common, but the emergence of alchemy, and sorcery has made the magic almost extinct.

Soulmate bonds typically occur during strange phenomenons such as blood moons, eclipses, solstices, etc.

There have been instances where soulmates have argued that they were fated to meet.”

Eskel flipped the page, but the next chapter was regarding a love potion. He took care placing the book back on the shelf.

He let his mind wander as he trudged up the stairs to his room. Having someone to hold on nights like this wouldn't be unwelcome.

The room was silent, the fire had turned to embers. He threw another log on coaxing it back to life with Igni. The only thing in the room that indicated someone lived in it were stacks of books, and his weapons laid on a long, narrow table.

He toed off his boots and sat on the edge of the low bed. He wanted to laugh at Geralt for suggesting such an idea. He wanted to tell Vesemir that destiny could go to hell. He wanted Lambert to realize that no one would ever want him, but most of all he wanted it to be true.

Of course he wanted someone to love him, but how the hell could he accept a love like that? If he couldn't love the scars on his face how could he expect someone else to? The questions raised in his mind, but Lambert's voice rang in the back of his mind if she is your soulmate, even she can't turn you down. Perhaps that was the ember that sparked hope in his heart.

• •• •

The lodge trusted her with an alchemy shop. It seemed even she couldn't fuck that up. The once brilliant negotiator was now grinding, mixing and drying herbs. The shop bell jingled indicating a customer. "I'll be with you in a moment."

"Take your time."

She dried her hands on her apron, as she turned to face the deep voice. Her eyes widened at the sight of him. The scars that lined his lips were identical to hers.

"I'm sorry. This is my fault." He began as her hand shot up to cover the scars.

"I told Geralt you wouldn't want to see me." She said turning away from the dark haired Witcher.

He was quick to reach out to her, "no you're beautiful...no beautiful isn't the right word..it's not enough to describe you." Eskel breathed taking in her soft (e/c) eyes. "A choice I made hurt you." Eskel's voice was thick with shame, "and you've had to live with that."

She took him in, and her fingers traced the scars that lined his face. "Perhaps it's not all bad."

Eskel's heart fluttered at the prospect. She had yet to turn him away, and he dared to let his heart hope.

"These scars led me to you."

[bbbqlays]

다섯: 강한 감정

5: Strong Feelings

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

It was a new day, and after your encounter yesterday with the man in charge, you were sort of on edge with everything.

“Hey there Eri. I heard you got new books to read.” Your hand reached to a box, opening it you found picture books along with fantasy chapter books. “Do you have a preference for any of these?”

She picked out the most colorful picture book. “You want to read the Paper Dragon?”

You picked up the book and looked at the cover. It was very colorful. She smiled widely, reaching out for the book with awe. “Okay!” You chuckled playfully sitting on her bed, she followed behind and brushed up against you.

You began reading, trying your best to make it entertaining, you even got one of the guards to laugh, a golden blonde haired man. You’ve never seen him until now, his eyes were a boost in mood, and you could tell he was smiling at certain moments.

The book was finished and Eri was way more excited about books, she jumped up but only fell on top of you as she laughed loudly.

“Ms, L/n, could you read another?”

“Why dont we do something better?”

Eri’s eyes lit up, wondering what could be better than a book. You stood up and went up to another box, you looked through to find one pair of child scissors and a bunch of colorful paper. You pulled out stacks and stacks and put them on the ground.

You waved eri over and pulled out a stack of papers. They were orgami papers with various colors. “We can make a paper dragon and hang it up on the ceiling” eri’s eyes brightened at the suggestion. “Oragami is one of the best things they teach you in school. Only because you can create anything out of paper by just folding.”

You divided the colors as quickly as you could before guiding eri through a talk. “Choose the colors and 12 pieces of paper.” She started picking out the colors, mostly being blues and purples, and everyone watched as she chose.

“Okay, and then now we are going to take the first piece.” You grabbed a random sheet of paper and sat on the ground across from her. You started to fold the paper and looked at eri to see if she followed. “And fold it... like that.” She did as she was told and smiled cheerfully while doing it.

Continuing, you explained and showed her every step. She followed delightfully. And the end result came to be two dragons long and proud. “And so now choose a color.” You offered the marker case and she randomly chose. It was purple. You picked out a black marker and picked up your dragon. “Draw a face.” You drew two little dots to signify eyes and a smile.

She did the same but instead had the tongue stick out. You both chuckled as you stood up, stretching. You looked at the clock on the side of her bed and sighed. “Looks like I need to go.” You groan and she followed with a sigh.

“Eri, I will be back tomorrow to hopefully do another fun activity. Maybe we’ll draw tomorrow.” Eri ran up and hugged, tightly gripping on your pants. She let go, but her stare seemed extra saddened. “See you tomorrow. Eat well.”

She nodded to that and you were escorted out. The man guiding you out had long golden hair. His mask fit snugly on his face, his green shirt adorned with a pinkish red tie.

You breathed softly as he guided you back to your room. “Does anyone ever talk?”

He looked at you, as if to smile. “Yeah, but usually to each other. Not really to the head.”

“The head... oh you mean Overhaul right?” He nodded in agreement. “What’s your name?”

“If you need to know, I’m Setsuno Toya.” He said it as if a weight was lifted off his shoulders. He was glad about the short lived conversation.

“Well, thank you Setsuno. Hopefully we can talk again.” He unlocked the doors with a bow, and you bowed again.

When entering you ripped off the mask and dropped it on your desk looking at the warm food displayed on the corner. It looked to be an American dish, specifically pizza. Toppings were placed on the side of the plate mostly meats.

You nodded to yourself and dug in, loving the warmth of the food. You closed your eyes enjoying the savory taste. It was a simple dish, and it tasted homemade. You wondered who made it and where, since you hadn’t smelled anyones cooking while with Eri.

You finished up, and looked around the desk, clothes laid out on the top and a new mask. You rolled your eyes feeling like a doll with all these clothes.

You rummaged through though, curious as to what they were. It was a blue short skirt, with black shorts, and a white button up blouse to match. It was as if it was made for a summer evening, or a date.

The thought made you chuckle as you threw them on the bed. To think you had a secret admirer was funny to also think about. The world built itself on soulmates, why would anyone play around with that.

The thought then hit you. “Fate... wouldn’t put me here right?” And you couldn’t play around with the thought of that because you couldn’t physically touch anyone.

Everyone had protection and you feel like you’d be killed if you were to touch someone. You tried to laugh the thought away but it lingered, and it scared you.

The clothes fit perfectly. Of course, and you felt good in it despite the earlier thoughts. You honestly thought you looked good in blue.

You enjoyed twirling around in it not being bothered to hear the door click open. You stopped twirling to feel good about yourself only to be met with the man in white.

Your face matched a shade of tomato as you went to try and hide yourself. You bowed to him apologizing silently. He simply bowed to you as well verbally apologizing for disrupting.

“I just came to get you for the meeting.”

You cleared your throat as you nodded. You grabbed the mask on the desk and threw it on still blushing embarrassingly. You walked out with him trying your best to slow your heart rate.

“Chrono right?” He nodded. “You’re like his right hand man, correct?”

“Yes, despite his demeanor he’s actually good.”

“I wasn’t doubting him, I was just going to ask... Why all this?”

Chrono looked at you not understanding the question. “Why this whole base? It seems eerie and too much.”

“Overhaul.” Chrono paused and thought about what to say. “He want’s to change the world. He wants an old image to come back.” Chrono nodded to his statement and continue guiding.

“So, it’s to better society... Correct?”

He nodded and that seemed to lift a burden from you somehow.

Chrono slowly opened the door and to welcome you was the same masked face you had seen last night. This time his tie was loosely around his neck, and he seemed more stressed than anything.

“Welcome Back!” Overhaul greeted you with open arms as he watched you sit. “Hopefully today wasn’t too overbearing.”

“No, of course not. Me and Eri simply read and did origami. Which I thank you for getting supplies for that.”

“So, I see you guys are getting along.” He adjusts his tie and looks off into the distance. “Do you have any other requests?”

Your eyes darted to his face immediately wondering what context. “To take care of Eri.” You were shaky now. Your head wanted to explode as you thought of other things to request that wasn’t for the benefit of Eri.

“Just supplies to draw with.” He nodded and looked at you pleasingly.

“And do you need anything? Specific things you had in your living quarters that you need here.”

You pondered. “If possible. A small library.” Your request seemed to peek his interest, and he simply chuckled.

“Very well.” His hand issued you away, and Chrono guided you out.

“Chrono. How can you tell when Overhaul likes someone?” It was a bold statement and you felt as if he wouldn’t answer properly.

“Don’t worry. He likes you just fine.” He gave you a genuine answer, making you think.

“Now, get some rest. And leave a note of all your favorite breakfast items under the door. Our ‘chef’ wants to make your stay here interesting and home-y.” He left with a nod.

You smiled, not a big smile, because what was there to smile about. You turned on the small lamp light on your desk and scanned your room feeling something off.

Flowers were on your nightstand. Not the ones from before but new ones. White roses. They filled the whole room with a beautiful scent.

You rushed to find another note under the vase, your hands feeling the hand writing. Beautiful cursive saying

‘You’re like a beautiful dove amongst a trash filled park. You stand out like a sore thumb. You please me without knowing it, and for that I keep you near.’

You couldn’t help but shiver as you read it. A smile wider than usual filled itself along your face.

“Beautiful.”

Someone is playing with the strings of fate, and falling for you evidently. You held the note close to your heart laughing loudly as you thought of who it could be.

Your heart fluttered as you thought of the man in white. He seemed to have more personality in this place than anyone else, and he’s seen you the most.

You giggle at the thought, and the thought of not even seeing his face filled you with mysterious happiness.

It was like being in grade school again...

Hey hey! Its Lay. I am sad to inform you that I am sick. I have covid and so it’s hard to get things done while sick. So sorry if uploads are delayed, and or not posted weekly. I’m trying my best, and hopefully you guys support me all the way through.

And if you want content from me everyday, I have a tiktok. I try my best to post everyday, but if you like overhaul here, you’ll definitely like overhaul over there! Thank you so much for reading and hopefully you stay healthy!

TAG LIST (OPEN)

@inanabsentia @wormxunii @lalachanya @cth-l @a-monsters-love @irisallenm @awkward-confused

[moondustaeil]

ᴄᴏʟᴏᴜʀɪᴢᴇᴅ ᴇᴄʀᴜ ⊰❀ ᴋ.ᴊᴡ

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ✧☾.·:·. colourized ecru

⠀ ⠀⠀ about

⋅  genre : soulmates!au - fluff, angst, suggestive content

⋅  pairing : Jungwoo x reader

⋅  word count : 25.8k

⋅  warning: it gets a little bit suggestive at the end, but no actual smut

⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀ synopsis

⋅   “Pick a colour” said lady Cyan who was strangely familiar. Your fingertip had endlessly trailed over the palette, but you picked ecru. Every day that goes by: you sit under the Daimyo oak that protected five little daisies, little did you know one of the five daisies is willing to give you a “loves me” or “loves me not” with Jungwoo, the boy from the enchanted soulmate library...

⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀ colours

⋅  this is a collab created by @neo-cult-ure​ , where me and other writers went for a soulmate concept but each went our own ways with a specific plot. I would like to take the time to thank everyone in this collab: for the friendship and for the process that we underwent together ! Please check out their fics as well. [Author’s note is at the bottom]

「ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ : # ꜰꜰꜰꜰꜰꜰ」

Sat with your back against a tree, it nearly appears that you're one of the stereotypical nature-lovers on earth. It would have looked like a regular thing to do, if only you held a cliché poetry book, or if you weren't sitting there whilst clouds were turning into a very dark shade of blue. The if-only scenarios were only fiction as in reality you were sitting against a tree in the middle of a weather transition, your hands empty and your eyes shut.

"pick a colour," a faint but comforting voice tells you, you nearly feel comfortable due to the sugary sweet undertone in the voice if it weren't for the pair of eyes you were greeted with. The cyan-coloured eyes look straight into yours even if yours were shut in reality.

Upon hearing the request, your eyes open themselves to do as you are asked. A soft layer of dust seems to coat your eyelashes which causes your eyes to flutter open a couple of times before you're greeted with the world. Your expectations don't meet up with what's actually in front of you, the last thing you had in mind was an empty landscape on each angle that your eyes explored. No one with a cyan-coloured pair of eyes staring into yours, in fact, no one is around you at all. There is no colour palette from which you can pick a colour, the only colour palette is that of the scenery. Just a stereotypical scene surrounds you: green grass, white daisies, and a very dark rain-filled sky.

It's going to rain, and it's a shame that you have to find out the second it's too late. Little droplets rapidly leak from the dark clouds, not enough to get you soaked, but enough to make you realise it was time to leave. You get up from under the tree, setting off in a fast walking pace as you leave the park. You don't run as you don't want to look like the fool who sat in the park whilst knowing it would rain, that embarrassing feeling is not something you want to give yourself. Whatever you were doing under a tree on a rainy Sunday evening is forgotten momentarily.

The world seems strangely different but one thing that stayed the same was the way to your apartment, and you're lucky it's only a ten-minute walk, nine if you continue to keep up the slightly faster walking pace. Though thanks to the weather, the walk seems a bit longer, but still only exactly nine minutes pass when you sprint up to the stairs towards the second floor.

You close the front door behind yourself once you're inside the apartment. The first thing you do is kick off the wet pair of Vans on your feet, you leave them in the middle of the hallway before stepping over them to get into your living room. You stare at the decorated living room, staying silent as there is no roommate you have to greet, which luckily allows you to glue yourself onto the sofa for the rest of the night. Dinner could have been made but you're not in the mood to make a mish-mash out of leftover ingredients.

For everything in life, there's a useful app, just like there's a useful app that you use to order your dinner with. Unfortunately, there's no such thing that gives you an explanation for your own weird actions like sitting underneath a tree for god knows how long. You pay for your dinner before throwing your phone aside, leaving social media to drown in its toxic nature.

You stand up from the sofa and head to the bathroom. You wash up by taking a quick shower, brush your teeth, do your overly extensive skincare routine even though you don't feel like it, and lastly change into your most comfortable nightwear. Right when you leave the bathroom and are about to settle yourself down on the sofa, the intercom stops you and tells you the food arrived. Luckily for you, you already paid and the delivery man is nice enough to drop off your food right in front of your door instead of two floors down.

"thank you!" you say extra loud so that the delivery man manages to hear you even when he's already on his way downstairs. You lift up the bag with food and instantly take it inside before any of your friendly neighbours come outside to have a healing talk. Once you close the door again, you decide that it's the moment to lock yourself in for the rest of the evening. A house party by yourself seems the perfect way to name what you're about to do: watch abandoned Netflix series while you occupy your sofa as a dining area.

You slowly start eating whilst Netflix provides you with entertainment. Yet, the series isn't interesting enough to keep you distracted from your thoughts, that or your thoughts are very determined to keep the subject alive. The view of two characters getting in a petty fight over money is replaced by the same view as earlier: the pair of cyan-coloured eyes that were staring into yours, followed by the sight of the tree you had been sitting under not long ago. There was something about the scene that seemed too important to forget as it constantly returned to your mind.

But why was it that you couldn't forget about it? Your eyes close as you give in to the thoughts before they consume your entire brain. It seems like a bunch of little white clouds start to form in your mind, each of them is filled with a tiny piece of information about the unforgettable encounter. Despite your confusion, you’re willing to make those little clouds pop in order to receive some new information. Firstly told was that you weren’t allowed to forget the tree or lose focus of it, another cloud tells you to remember the tree because it might not be there forever. The little clouds fill the blank spaces in your mind, but it’s not enough.

You indeed never saw the tree before, it is something you can conclude after you went on a train of memories. Before today, you had been in the park numerous times to situate objects and pieces of nature, it was a little bit too familiar to say that you had no idea whether you saw the tree before or not. A piece of your heart interrupts your thoughts, without words making your interest in the tree bigger with each second you thought about it. Perhaps you would listen to yourself and keep an eye out for the tree, just to check if you weren’t betraying yourself.

After sighing, you shake your head to yourself. “You’re going crazy,” you tell yourself in a whisper, taking the glass of water from the side and sip from it to wash away the stream of useless thoughts. Fortunately for the future, it’s a mission you would fail in. Unfortunately for you, the thoughts wouldn’t get washed away for quite a while.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

7:05 am

You wake up with a jerk, immediately catching your breath as you came back from running a marathon. The faint voice in your mind disappears, leaving you alone in your dark bedroom. The distant sound of rain drumming against your window makes your eyes open, searching for the little patch of light in the darkness until your eyes are fixated on the window.

It must be raining outside and you must be in your room. Unlike a minute ago when you found yourself in the park once more, sat underneath the same tree as yesterday with the cyan-coloured eyes staring at you from a distance. Your tensed body falls back onto the bed in relief, you're happy to be in bed even though the urge to go to that specific spot is eating you from the inside. Slowly but surely you turn your body towards the window, eyes focused on the patch of light that shines through. The sky seems grey like it's grieving for the start of a new week, but you're just grateful that you're not completely consumed by the darkness in your room.

When you think about something so much, people would say that you're in love, but clearly, you can't be in love with a tree, can you? If it was up to you to explain your feelings towards the tree: it would be a mix of hatred due to the constant thoughts about it, but also fascination because of the unknown meaning behind it. It's no secret that by now, you actually start to believe you're either way delusional, or that faith is on your side but you're not sure why.

"Fuck it" you quietly tell yourself as you get your sore body out of bed, starting the day rather impulsively as you would have preferred to stay in bed for a little while longer. Your nightwear is ditched on the sheets as you almost shoot yourself into yesterday's outfit. There's a sauce stain from last night's dinner in the middle of your shirt, but the dried-up spot is something your eyes miss or don't even care about at this moment. It's too late to question what you're doing before you realise it, you've already left the bedroom.

Similar to other and more rushed mornings, breakfast is something you forget about, though now it seems like abandoning it willingly rather than just forgetting about it. You walk past the kitchen and directly into the hallway, exchanging your bare feet for the wet shoes you left in the middle of the path yesterday evening. It seems like you're rewinding yesterday's events even though this time, you sprint down the stairs instead of up.

The moment you walk out of the apartment complex, you can feel the little droplets of rain layering onto your hair, it's like taking a shower first thing in the early morning. The feeling is annoying and it could lead to you getting sick, but you don't think of the consequences, neither are you caring about them right now. The sprint turns into a fast walking pace as you're greeted by a still calm street. Luckily at this hour, there aren't many people around, and if they are then they're in a rush to get to work.

Your feet speed up lightly as the urge to get to the park grows only bigger knowing you're only ten minutes away from the place. You walk further towards the park even though it's hard to keep yourself from going past the walking pace, luckily you're just very determined to keep your bit of dignity. Ten minutes isn't that much in reality, even if it takes up one of the six parts in an hour and one of the three parts in half an hour.

When the park comes into view, you opt to ignore the presence of a few early birds that jog towards the park, just like them you start jogging. The remaining minute turns into a matter of seconds as you run through the unofficial entrance and straight towards the tree that you feel captivated by. You don't care that you're running over the grass rather than the ground, it's not like the bit of dew could make you slip.

Your feet come to an abrupt halt once you're close enough to the tree, only taking smaller steps towards the piece of nature until it seems like the tree could engulf you in its branches. You greet the tree with a smile, unaware of your own little gesture. With the bit of distance between you and the tree, you reach out your hand to touch the trunk. "What makes you so special?" you ask quietly, it's more like a rhetorical question as you feel like you have to find out the answer for yourself.

Your hand pulls itself away with a slight sigh, the calmness spreading through your body after a second of contact between you and the tree. You turn your body and get into the same position as yesterday, your back pressed against the trunk while you look at the scenery. The spot that you claimed allows you to stay out of the rain, the branches and twigs catching a couple of droplets before they can get to you. It takes a minute for you to settle down in that spot, but once you do, it's like you're sitting in the perfect spot.

The view you have from this spot is amazing, especially seeing people rushing in their lives while you're sat under a tree that gives a protective vibe. But you're aware that you must be sitting here with a goal, and you have no idea what that goal could be. You cock your head to the side, allowing your eyes to check the little flowers that you find yourself in between like you ruined their little get-together.

Five little daisies proudly standing amongst other big trees and plain green grass, their two simple colours stand out compared to the other naturistic elements around you. It were the kind of flowers you would make a flower crown with when you were still a child and the flowers you could use to determine whether your crush really loved you. Not that you did that many times as you were too realistic, or at least that's what you thought about your years as a child.

A tingling feeling spreads itself starting from your wrist and all the way towards the ends of your fingertips. You break eye-contact with the white-yellow coloured flowers and use your eyes to inspect the palm of your hand. But, you don’t see anything more than just a simple hand quivering to the unexpected intensity of the tingles. Your fingers clench themselves until they’re hidden in your fist, pressuring the tingles to go numb. 

The set of strange events make you close your eyes to ponder, trying to ignore the reality to just silently wonder about them without having to go through the experience once more. Yet, the moment you close your eyes you seem lost in one of those events, one that you’re encountering for the second time. The Cyan-coloured eyes stare into yours eyes, a determined and yet comforting look that make you feel responsible over something you’re not aware of. “Ecru? That’s a fantastic choice, darling. Your world is now colourized ecru” the voice says in a soft tone. The voice seemingly fits the fawn colour that you can imagine when saying ecru. Your mouth opens to speak, but before you can push one word out, the pair of eyes are gone. 

Once again, you're left in the park with your eyes closed and your hands empty just like they were yesterday. Only this time, the world had changed, or perhaps it had before but you were too dumb to realise.

The world is now colourized ecru

「 ꜱɴᴏᴡ : # ꜰꜰꜰᴀꜰᴀ 」

"Your world is colourized what?" Sicheng asks you, making it clear you had to clarify the story for the third time today. His eyes glance over at you like it would make him understand the words a little bit better. You would have sighed if it wasn’t for the fact that you would do the exact same thing if he told you a similar story. You wouldn’t have understood either, perhaps you wouldn’t even bother believing it.

Getting the words on the tip of your tongue again, only takes up a few seconds, you could repeat them whenever you wanted and your head provided you with the same voice as the person that told you.”Your world is now colourized ecru” you repeat again, this time saying the words slower since the language gap could make it harder for him to understand what ecru meant, even though it isn’t language-related as you had to google the colour too. “The voice told me that” you add, explaining more than needed just so that Sicheng could understand and believe your story.

“Colourized ecru, isn’t that like the beige colour?” Sicheng asks as his feet take slower steps just like his mind is processing the entire situation in a slow pace. To you, it is almost too slow, as being headed to the park became something you are weirdly enthusiastic for, or rather than that, you simply long to find yourself sitting underneath that tree. “I thought so too, but apparently it’s not. I saw a pinkish shade in it but Wikipedia said it was greyish-yellow. So I don’t know anymore” you answer his question, leaving your best friend even more confused now that he doesn’t know which colour your world really became.

The rest of the walk to the park is as blank as it was before, with Sicheng asking questions and you giving vague answers because Google wasn’t always as smart as you thought. Eventually, you realise that you would have to find a way to answer your own questions instead of letting Google do it for you. And aside from mental support, you’re sure that Sicheng can’t help you with answers either. 

“This is the tree,” you say as you walk underneath it with Sicheng, allowing him to sit first between the five daisies that he hadn’t even noticed yet. You sit down on the free space next to him, stopping the urge that your eyes get as you don’t want to close them while your best friend is around. “Do you know what kind of tree this is?” Sicheng asks you, his head raising to look at the branches, twigs and the leaves hanging from it. He fails to see the way you shook your head but already expected a no from you, or well, he had never seen your interest laying in the origins of a park tree.

Through his lensless glasses, Sicheng looks at you again. “Perhaps you should visit the library, they must have some books about trees,” he suggests, his head turning unexpectedly when his hand touches one of the five daisies hiding in the grass. Before you’re able to catch up with what happened, he quickly places his hand next to them instead of on top of them. “And flowers” he adds quickly, giving you an innocent smile.

"Did you ever play the loves me, loves me not game with daisies?" Sicheng asks as he motions to the little miracles of nature with his free hand, your eyes immediately go towards the flowers, something you almost instinctively do as you would stare at them each time you came here. “I didn’t, I wouldn’t know who would love me” you answer with a small shrug, still convinced that you never played those silly games during your childhood. The loves me, loves me not game was made up out of lies, a flower would never be able to tell you who you belonged with. “Your soulmate loves you.”

“My soulmate?” you ask as you hear the word soulmate go past Sicheng’s lips. The word isn’t unfamiliar, perhaps it’s a bit too familiar as there is a lot of doubt to the existence of soulmates in the world. Some claim soulmates are just for people who meet each other and symbolically label themselves like that, others say soulmates could meet each other in special circumstances, and there was a group of people that completely deny the existence of the phenomenon. You have no idea which group you belong to, neither do you know what Sicheng thinks about it. Never have you pondered about the possibility of meeting your other half. 

Sicheng hums in response to you, a tiny smile coating his lips as he reaches out to one of the flowers and disconnects it from its long stem. “You just go like this” Sicheng says as he ignores your soft protests against what he was doing, something felt wrong when he plucked the flower from its safe spot. “Loves me, loves me not” he says as he starts to demonstrate, leaving you to watch how he throws away something precious. It makes you feel emotional, with petal after petal falling to the grass after getting plucked from the yellow-coloured disk. Each of those petals seem to represent how close you are to having tears in your eyes. You felt sick with apprehension.

“Loves you not,” Sicheng says whilst the last petal sadly falls onto the green grass, laying scattered next to the other petals that he had plucked away. Just like you predicted seconds ago, tears are burning in the corners of your eyes, threatening to run down your cheeks, but you refuse, you don’t want to be the person to cry over a flower. “That means you’re not my soulmate and I’m not yours,” Sicheng simply says, whatever was left of the flower falling from his fingertips and ending between the few white petals. 

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

The feeling of melancholy continues to follow you everywhere after what had happened. It started as a small pit in your stomach the moment Sicheng first separated the flower from its natural habitat, but as the hours go by the pit only grows bigger and leaves you unable to feel a different emotion.

After Sicheng left you with an apology for possibly fucking up something you desperately needed in your life, you had found yourself grieving over the flower for two complete hours. Those hours go by with tenderly holding the remains between your aching fingertips, and telling yourself you had four flowers left that no one would pluck away from you. Yet, when you left the park, there was the fear that a stranger or child would pluck them for fun. You had been hesitant about leaving, but you couldn't stay with the flowers day and night.

That’s how you end up marching to the local library, following up the at least useful piece of advice Sicheng gave you. You were no longer angry at him, perhaps you even blamed yourself for not making it clear enough how important the flowers were to you, how they seemed to connect to you and the ecru world you found yourself in. Grateful for the suggestion he made earlier: from the suggestion about going to the library, to the suggestion of a so-called phenomenon called soulmates.

You had no idea what time it was when you found yourself in front of the library, neither did the sky really tell you much because you weren't looking up at it. Your eyes were too busy to make sure you didn't bump into any people or objects whilst your thoughts were working overtime. Your steps were quick as the stairs only counted a few of them before you were right in front of the wooden door. Something else you didn't notice were the opening hours hanging on the left, you would have been able to see it was a quarter past closing time when you arrived. Your fingers wrapped around the door handle, trying to pull it down in order to get the door open but the handle merely moved an inch before getting stuck in its position. "Shit"

The spark of hope you had was taken over by the large part of melancholy once again, you didn't even need the opening schedule to know that you probably were standing here because it was closed already. This was one of the reasons you had to make sure before getting hopeful for things, especially now that you were obligated to wait the entire night before you were able to possibly let your thoughts rest. You couldn't help but pull the handle down once more, or attempt to as this time too it had no intention of letting you in.

In the end, there was no other option but to go home for the night and be tortured by your strayed thoughts. The walk home being extra long due to your unnecessary stop at the park to check if the tree and flowers were still there, waiting for your return tomorrow. But perhaps that's not the only thing waiting for you, perhaps a soulmate is waiting somewhere as well. Waiting for you.

「 ʜᴏɴᴇʏᴅᴇᴡ : # ꜰ0ꜰꜰꜰ0 」 

For the third day in a row, you're already waiting in front of the library ten minutes before the building opens its doors. For the third day in a row, you manage to find a spark of hope somewhere inside of your body that tells you that today is the day that you will find something. But finding the right books is harder than expected: somehow writers don't really dive deeper into the wondrous world of soulmates and books about trees take ages to thumb through just to get to the right illustration of the tree. It's hard to find what you're looking for, especially as you have no idea what you're actually looking for.

But today you're determined to find anything the book is willing you tell you. You hope having a picture of the tree would make it easier to receive information, even if you have no idea if any of the people around are skilled in giving you the answer to which kind of tree it was: the books are supposed to give you the answers but how are you going to recognise your tree between many others? Something else that could help you were the daisies, you know the name but never imagined there to be a meaning behind them until you thought back about Sicheng sadly removing one from the world.

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when the door is unlocked and soon opened for the public, even though right now no one but you stood in the invisible queue. The feeling of victory is quick to spread through your body the moment you step inside, the high shelves don’t make you feel small, if anything, they give you more motivation.

“Good morning,” A voice speaks up without you realising it, you unfortunately ignore it because you’re too focused on finding the books you need for your progress. If you had heard it, you would have been able to tell how oddly familiar the voice was, and you could have linked it to the weird experience you had in the park. It was a missed chance, but more chances would come in the near future.

Your footsteps take you up the stairs where you had been going to for three days now, it became a part of your routine. Nature-related books were usually found upstairs as not many people were interested in the miracles of life these days. You admit that before, you were one of the people that took nature by granted, something that changed drastically in a short period of time. 

You sit at the empty desk near the corner, a popular space you know from experience, but as no one is there, it’s yours for the rest of the day. You’re quick to turn on the computer in order to check out the catalogue, a catalogue of which the books don’t change but each day you scroll past the same ones in hopes that a new one gets added. Your fingers hesitate over the keyboard, hitting a letter befoe deleting it again as you remember searching for the word yesterday. “Can I help you?”

You look away from the computer screen when you hear the voice, a fake, friendly smile appearing on your lips as you get ready to give a fabricated response. “Not really I don’t know what I’m looking for but I don’t think you can help me,” you tell the person in front of you, giving her only a brief glance which makes you seem uninterested. “Perhaps I can help you, you can tell me what you’re looking for and I will help you with finding the right books” she offers you. Out of annoyance, you hand the person the little, coloured post-it note with the keywords on.

“Tree, daisies, and soulmates” The voice reads the keywords on your paper out loud, her words flow out like she’s familiar with them. Your handwriting must be near enough to read it without trouble. “Yes,” you mumble in response, already knowing the words by head so there was no need for anyone else to say the words like the woman just did. Okay, perhaps it had been a rude thought of you and it was uncalled for, but you’re convinced that no one is able to help you and you weren’t willing to waste time on someone who wanted to try. “What kind of tree are you looking for?” she asks you but before you can answer, she interrupts you again “do you have a picture or a name?”

You hastily fish your phone out of the pocket of your pants, after unlocking it going straight to the gallery to find the set of pictures that you made yesterday. All of the pictures look overly similar, but having multiple pictures gives you more proof. “Ah, I think I know what tree it is” she says when she gets a glance of your phone, or rather, the picture of the tree. “This is the Quercus dentata, or daimyo oak if I’m correct. I can find some books about this tree for you?” she inquires after blowing you over with the difficult name and her cleverness to recognise the tree immediately. She hands you the note back even though you immediately discard it beside the computer keyboard.

“I don’t know, I don’t know what I need” you admit to her, slowly turning in your chair to properly tell what was going on. The last thing you want is spilling the story to anyone gullible and willing to listen, but there is a sense of trust between the two of you. Indeed, you don’t know what you need and one of the reasons that you’re here is to find out what you need and why you need it. “You don’t know what you need?” She asks you, but still smiles as she says the words, she seems like she knows more and she’s about to share it with you. You shake your head, an almost desperate gesture as you want help even from a librarian who perhaps had no idea how to help you. “Seeing the keywords on your note, I would say you’re here lurking for information about something specific that overcame you. And you must be looking for an explanation because the tree, the flowers, and the soulmate part all seem to blend together?”

Having someone next to you, saying the words from a perspective that was unfamiliar to you, it was like one of your millions of questions just got an answer. The answer was so easy, perhaps because the question was a simple one too. “Is that true?” she decided to ask because the look in your eyes revealed how surprised you were by the words. You slowly look up at her face, promptly staring into the pair of bright-coloured eyes. The unnatural cyan-colour rings a bell in your mind, and it only takes a second to remember the times you had seen the eyes before. “Y-yes, I think so” you respond in a softer tone, barely getting any words out of your mouth because of the shock that numbs your ability to speak or think. 

The elderly woman can only nod at your words, something you don’t see as you are too busy staring at everything but her face. Right now, you’re looking at the name tag pinned to her shirt. It shouldn’t be a surprise to see her name, but yet, “Cyan” is typed down in a Verdana-lookalike on the tag. The numb feeling completely takes away your ability to speak, or you’re just speechless at this point. A couple of days ago there was nothing, then the tree came in your life, and now you feel as if you’re close to figuring out the ecru world you live in. Yet, you don’t have half of it figured out, barely a quarter. 

"So, can you help me?” You ask out loud, your posture straightening more unknowingly. You expect a no but still hope for a yes, and you can’t tell beforehand which one of the two it’s going to be. Cyan -if that’s what her name really is- seems to hesitate, her eyes simply staring at you with an emotion that you can’t name. “I’m not sure, I already helped you to realise what you’re looking for” your shoulders immediately slump back against the wooden chair, a sigh slipping from your lips as you try to admit this was exactly what you expected even when it wasn’t.

You nod sadly as your eyes leave her to focus on the computer screen again, this time you know what to type in the search bar but you feel too unmotivated to make it through on your own. “Thank you anyway” you say soft as you give her one last glance, your eyes almost begging for her to stay so that she would give you more information. You’re convinced that this Cyan, is the same Cyan that brought you in this strange ecru-coloured world. It’s something you can’t accuse her of, but deep inside you know that you’re right about them being the same person: some people that you come across in your dreams, are real people, just like Cyan.

"You're welcome, don't let it get plucked away from you, you will find out"

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Exactly fifty-nine minutes before closing time, you still find yourself in the same spot in front of the computer, though this time, the screen is pure black and your eyes are scanning every few words in the book laying on the dark table. 

The work that you’re doing now isn’t ever going to meet up with any work you used to do for school, this took a lot more energy but at the same time, you feel more useful and smarter than the times you would make a paper about concentration because it was easy to copy from others. When the teacher back then said that making the paper had seemed to help you a lot with your skills, you were sure that you were good at faking such things. But if there was a teacher to evaluate you now, you wouldn’t even have to fake anything.

Thanks to Cyan you got onto the right path, or at least you are trying to convince yourself that you are walking on the right path. The pieces of evidence next to you give you a good feeling, it seems like literature is more important than you used to believe, especially the pages where little post-its are pasted between to look back on. However, you don’t seem to realise there is no more time to look back on any of those things, you had been so caught up in the available literature that you forgot about the standard needs of a human or the opening hours of the library.

You flip the page of the book as quick as you can once you read the last few words of the sentence, another soft sigh leaves your lips as you realise this book about daisies isn’t going to get you far. Perhaps there was a limit to the amount of information people could receive in a day, but at this point, you’re convinced that you’re way past that limit. Your eyes meet with a new chapter, the boldly-typed title staring at you but you’re too busy translating the words from their original language into English, even if the English words are written a dozen times over the upcoming paragraphs. 

effeuiller la marguerite

Quietly and almost inaudible, you translate the words for yourself. When you say them in French, it doesn’t ring a bell despite the little knowledge you have of the language. When you repeat the same words in English, you instantly think back about the day you and Sicheng spent in the park. The way he used one of the precious daisies to demonstrate how you were supposed to play the simple, but childish game of “loves me, loves me not.” You could still taste some bitterness of the moment on the tip of your tongue, a consequence of Sicheng unintentionally ruining the flower. 

The first paragraph provides you with a definition of the game, something perhaps not useful even though school always taught you the definition before anything deeper. Even if the context was the more important part, you still needed some framework to understand.

“She loves me, she loves me not or he loves me, he loves me not is a game of French origin, in which one person seeks to determine whether the object of affection returns that affection.” The words are literal, perhaps a bit formal but not in a university-level. It gives you the hint that you are the person looking for an object of affection in this ecru world. It is you, you that has to search for the other person, for a he, she or them that would possibly love you, or not.

“How does it work really?” you ask yourself silently as you read past some French paragraph that you don’t feel attracted by, it seems like the next paragraph nicely explains how you’re supposed to play. It’s quite silly to think of it, you exactly know how to play the game, but don’t believe yourself and go for an unscientific instruction in a book about daisies. “A person playing the game alternately speaks the phrases "He loves me," and "He loves me not," while picking one petal off an ox-eye daisy for each phrase. The phrase they speak on picking off the last petal supposedly represents the truth between the object of their affection loving them or not. The player typically is motivated by attraction to the person they are speaking of while reciting the phrases. They may seek to reaffirm a pre-existing belief, or act out of whimsy" you read in a whisper-tone, sometimes stumbling over your own words because of the stiff and formal use of words. However, the moment you look back at the words, they don’t seem as formal and stuff anymore, they make sense in some way.

The chapter is no longer than two pages long, yet those two pages had managed to provide you with a lot more information than other chapters did. Added to your story were now the flowers that fit right in the framework Cyan made for you, it’s like being one step closer to knowing what you’re supposed to do. A sad hunch overcomes you as you finish the chapter: there are only four daisies left, four daisies that you can’t recklessly use to play the game. You need to find the matching object of affection.

Your hand pulls back the thick side of the book against the other to close it, resting it on top of the other books that you had been browsing through today. For a second, you allow your eyes to close as they’re exhausted from the endless focus, yet it didn’t mean you were going to give up. On a different pile were two books left: one of them is filled with more information about trees, the other is a magazine that has an article about soulmates. Unfortunately, that article is the only copy that has the words “soulmates” in them, meaning that no other existing source was available to you.

“Sorry to bother you, but it’s closing time. And I think you really need some rest, love” Cyan who had helped you so dearly before was now about to ruin part of the progress you made, or she was trying to help you by giving you an opportunity to go home and rest. Though, you opt it’s the first option as you feel too far into it to stop. Perhaps Cyan wasn’t aware yet, but she would find out soon that you came here on a daily basis ever since three days ago. “Can’t I stay for a little while longer, just until you closed up. I need to read some more” you say in a soft tone as you motion towards the two sources that still have to get scanned by your inexperienced eyes and mind.

Cyan takes the magazine from the pile, reading the word “soulmates” on the cover and immediately she knows which magazine it is. It’s one that most beginners want to read, but at the same time, it’s the most useless piece of literature in the entire library. Yet, it seems like you’re willing to read the public source as they don’t have any others. “You can come back tomorrow, can’t you?” she asks simply, dropping the magazine back onto the pile before looking at you to scan your facial expression. The emotion displayed on your face is mostly desperation: it makes Cyan want to give in, but the tiredness in your eyes is what holds Cyan back from telling you to stay until she closed up. It wasn’t like the article was helpful and you would regret staying longer just to read it. 

"Come with me"

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Cyan paves the way to a place you had never witnessed in the few years of regularly visiting the library - not that you visit overly often, or at least not before the entire ecru-world circumstance - , but you are positive that this hall was one of the places you had never walked through.

Walking there takes long enough, long enough to forget that you left most of your stuff on the desk in the corner. A vague idea tells you that you’re going underground: mostly because you had been taking many steps down rather than up, and also because of the musty smell that is sticking onto the walls surrounding you. Cellars always look old but you’re willing to have a debate over this cellar being older than a few centuries. 

You want to ask Cyan how long there was left and how many more steps in the staircase, you have no idea where you’re headed and the eerie feeling seems to double itself with each step further. You stop yourself from asking though: you don’t consider yourself as a six-year-old who continuously asks his parents when the car ride is finally over. You purse your lips as you hold the question even if that means you have to breathe through your nose.

“We’re here” Cyan announces after coming to a halt in front of a large iron door. The door is large enough to let a giant pass if it’s not for the obvious fact that it’s closed. Your own steps stop as well, aligning perfectly next to Cyan’s. From up close, the door is heavily decorated by different elegant shapes. Yet, there’s no keyhole that indicates the requirement of the longitudinal grooves. The door is a masterpiece, it seems like it belongs in a museum more than as an actual door underground. “Won’t you open it?” you ask Cyan quietly, only tearing your eyes from the door to see when Cyan would open the door. 

Cyan’s first response is to shake her head as a sign that she’s not going to open the door for you, in response to that, you let out a huff of annoyance and disappointment. How are you supposed to get in when the librarian doesn’t even want to open the goddamn door for you, it’s not like you know a secret way through. “You have to open it, darling,” Cyan says when she notices that you’re not amused, by far, you look irritated. 

“How am I supposed to do that?!” You ask loudly, drawing a long sigh from your mouth as it was another feature that you weren’t prepared for. You set another step closer to the door, not looking back at Cyan because you don’t care if she follows you or not. You’re not a magician like your friend Kun is, you’re clumsy and still didn’t figure out how to do the magic trick with the glasses that he always shows you. “Hocus pocus!” Leaves your lips before you can stop it from happening, whether it is for the laughs or for the deadly-serious expression on your lips, it doesn’t matter as the door doesn’t bother to react.

The string of magic spells leaves your lips, at once, calling out each one you know and unmagically cast them onto the iron door. Yet, none of them have the intention to pull the handle down and open the door for you. Cyan can’t be any more amused, but she is aware that you would still be here for hours if she leaves you to cast these spells. “Opening the door is like opening a new world for yourself,” Cyan tells you in a quiet voice, just loud enough to overpower your voice that casts the last spell you know. The hint is amateur level, even you find the answer within a minute. 

You swallow away the bundle of nerves that want to spread in your stomach. What you are about to say can, either way, be foolery or the start of something unidentified. Just like Cyan mentioned, opening the door is like opening a new world, and you are ready to be a part of it. 

"Ecru"

「 ᴀᴢᴜʀᴇ  : # ꜰ0ꜰꜰꜰꜰ 」

When you wake up from accidentally falling asleep with your head buried between a formal-worded book, you hear the large doors closing themselves slowly, and you guess you must have missed the moment they opened due to your tiredness. The non-rhythmic footsteps are unrecognisable but there must be only one person that has unlimited access to this place, Cyan. Your guess is confirmed when you hear her voice telling you: "you look tired.”

“I’ve been looking through these books for nearly three hours” you answer with a deep sigh leaving your lips, your fingertip tiredly points to the large pile of books of which you only managed to read one in those three long hours. But that one book is enough to make it seem like you read everything in this entire underground library. 

Cyan let out a quiet hum at your words, stepping closer to you with the same unstable sound of her footsteps on the floor. “That’s why I decided to get some coffee for you, you slept for over an hour,” she says in a sweet tone as the cup of coffee is delivered to the moon-shaped table you sit at. A small smile coats your lips thanks to Cyan’s sweet gesture, and you know your non-verbal message has been delivered when she smiles back at you. Every now and then she would deliver coffee to you, you didn’t even ask for it, she would disappear at random times and return with a cup of coffee for you. Your inner coffee addict was happy with that.

"Did you find out anything new?” Cyan asks as she has her eyes on you and one hand placed on the pile of books like she’s trying to suck the magic out of them. That thought is one you dismiss soon, you can expect a lot but that beats all of the other ridiculous thoughts you had. You reluctantly shake your head in response, hesitating because you had found many amazing things but you doubted if they were useful. “I guess so, but at the same time, I don’t think so. I don’t understand any of the words in the book” you admit, your eyes still reading over some of the words.

The book gets pulled from under your elbows by Cyan who takes it between her two hands as she begins to read at the point where you left off before falling asleep. “You’re reading the wrong book. I told you to follow your heart and choose a book based on that, not on an interesting title” she immediately scolds you for choosing what you did, she read less than a sentence but it’s enough for her to know that this book isn’t going to give you the answers you need.

"I don’t know how to, it’s harder than you think” you complain with a deep sigh, putting the cup of coffee down on the porcelain saucer before looking up at the elder librarian. “How am I supposed to know what my heart wants?” you ask, the question sounding both genuine but also mocking. You don’t believe in letting your heart decide which book to take, if it was true, you would be reading an easy and understandable book that wasn’t part of this underground library’s catalogue. 

Cyan closes the book and can’t help but sigh just like you did a second ago, she sounds disappointed even if she doesn’t use any words to confirm the feeling. It’s not an uncommon thing for people to choose the wrong book, everyone at least does so one time, especially when they judge by the cover. But after years of sneakily doing this, Cyan had a steady set of expectations from humanity, especially those looking for a soulmate. 

“y/n. Think about your soulmate, close your eyes and let your soulmate pick the book for you. Listen to your heart, it’s commissioned by your soulmate” Cyan says in an overly sweet and soft tone, dropping the thick book on top of the others as a sign all of them were useless in your story. You admire her for the way she says the words because you wish it’s as easy as it sounds, but, you hate the words because it’s not as easy as that. How is your soulmate going to recommend you a book if he doesn’t even know about your existence? 

Your phone vibrates steadily next to the pile of useless books, even though the moon-shaped table is in front of you, you huff because you are too lazy to lean forward and take the device in your hands. For an unknown reason, you flag your phone as an unnecessary accessory down here: there is no WiFi and you don’t expect anything from the phone reception. But clearly, your phones proves you wrong when it vibrates a second time. 

You lean forward and pick up the phone from the book-filled desk, finally giving it some screentime and giving yourself some ‘me-time’ as you would always name it. The lockscreen gives away the time, but you only have eyes for the notification of your best friend Sicheng. You feel bothered that he messages you, it wouldn’t be bothering if you weren’t in this almost-enchanting library.

Sicheng [ 2 : 35 pm ] : I found some more daisies around, plucked them and they're in front of your door

Sicheng [2 : 35 pm ] : sorry for wasting one the other day, I didn't know they would mean so much to you ):)

You can't help but smile soft, a certain feeling of warmth spreading through your tiniest veins and dropping once they reach your heart. It's obvious that Sicheng feels sorry for what he did to the daisy, and he must think that you’re not answering the door because of that.

It is a fact that you hadn’t been speaking to him since the day in the park, not because you were angry -as you weren’t -, but because you isolated yourself in the library after he advised you to. Sicheng was someone you couldn’t be angry at, he was soft but also because he had given you a little push onto an unknown path. You were still walking on the path he pushed you on, however, he isn’t walking on that same path and you feel bad about it. 

“Will you not write a message back to him, darling?” Cyan asks you as she notices the way you can only stare at the messages you received, and your fingers are resting on the edges of the screen rather than the keyboard that is waiting for you to send a message back. Your eyes stay on the screen, they never break eye-contact from the messages, not even when Cyan asks your attention by questioning you. “He doesn’t know I’m here. I think he thinks I’m angry because he took one of the daisies and showed me how to play the game” you explain to Cyan. She can see your facial expression growing bluer as you think about it. 

“But you’re not angry. So make him bloom again, his smile is precious to the world” Cyan says before you can continue telling the story with even more details, she is aware of the things that happen but still listens when you tell her the story about the little daisy. 

y/n [ 2 : 39 pm ] : just as much as you mean to me, you're a precious bean x

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Apparently, and without warning, you're not the only soulmate-searching human in the world. The first time you realise it's simply because Cyan decides to tell you one minute before a girl that's also looking for her soulmate walks in, the time after you notice it's before the iron-grated door opens itself after receiving the name of a chosen colour. You're never facing the door but you're still able to hear how many different voices there are and how many times the door opened itself.

Three free moon-shaped tables are moving away from the centre of the library, each one getting closer to one of the bookshelves but simply so that everyone has bits of privacy in the process of finding their soulmate. Your table was right in front of a bookshelf already: probably because Cyan thought it was needed for a beginner to receive lots of written knowledge.

Among the variety of people around in the underground library, no one looks familiar to you. You don't meet eyes with them but you can put the blame on the fact that their noses are buried between antiquated books. Even those who are already familiar with one another, don't waste more time than the few seconds a small greeting takes up, simply because they're too disciplined. It makes you feel awkward, as you're too new to step up and introduce yourself to the hardworking set of people.

Silence fills the room to the brim, leaving only the furniture to take up the rest of the space. The only sound you hear is quiet breathing and when a slightly moist fingertip tries to turn the page of one of the books. Whilst everyone is busy with the literate, you are not. The books on your table are shut, still labelled as useless ever since Cyan said that they had no value in your story. But you can't bring yourself to figure out which one your heart wants, or which one your soulmate would recommend to you. Cyan probably was right, but that doesn't tell you how you should find the answer to the question, nor how to find the right book.

You stand up from the decorative stool, trying not to make any noises which you succeed in as you can easily slip off the piece of furniture. You let go of a breath that you had been holding in but it's even quieter than your footsteps as they approach the nearest bookshelf. It's only a few steps before your feet come to a halt in front of it and your eyes take over to complete the next task.

Your eyes stare at all of the books that you find yourself in front of, it's a lot to take in with all of the different colours and letters coming to you at once. Unknown writers and complicated book titles, but as Cyan said, you try not to judge the book by who wrote it or how interesting the title sounds. Society just got you adapted to thinking difficult was always the right choice when it came to literature.

It's like you're standing at an intersection of choices, but there are more than four choices, and perhaps there's only one right option amongst the hundreds of possibilities. Fortunately for you, you can't see how insecure your back looks from this angle: others see the way your shoulders carry a responsibility but they also remember how they had been at the exact same spot not long ago.

"You don't know which book to take?" A voice asks you, the male voice making you spin on your heels immediately just to politely face whoever was speaking to you. The man in front of you has a sweet smile on his lips, you immediately notice that once you look up to his face. The sweet smile tries to indicate that he's being friendly but also gives away that he's happy. You can't help but wonder if he's close to finding his soulmate.

You sigh softly, a monologue that you have been participating in a lot more these past days. Sometimes you sigh because you're frustrated by this endless hunt for answers, other times it's because you feel like you should give up and move on, and other times you do it because you just don't know. The thing you don't know is also hidden behind something you don't know, even though that doesn't really make sense to you. "No, I can't seem to figure out which book is mine" you answer honestly.

"That's totally fine, we all started at this point,"  He tells you, never stopping the smile from hovering over his lips. You realise that maybe out of experience, he's willing to help you more than Cyan is, or at least his advice could help you more than Cyan's vague instructions. "You indeed have to let your soulmate pick the book for you, but there's a catch to it all. The things you think you've researched outside of this library are the things you have to research here again. You're not looking for what a soulmate is, but who your soulmate is."

You're obligated to admit, the words make you think more clearly than Cyan's do. Cyan's words leave you to sleepless nights of wondering what they mean, the words of this man make you think twice and you already know what’s expected of you. Specifically, the last bit of words are what stick to your body and follow you behind even now that you're still standing in front of him.

You're not looking for what a soulmate is, but who your soulmate is.

"There's no right or wrong definition to soulmates, everyone describes it differently. But you have to focus on the things you experienced and find the meaning behind them, after that you can connect them to your special person" He says, the explanation seems never-ending but you willingly accept every single word that leaves his lips right now. The scowl from earlier turns into a grateful smile, you are genuine about the gesture as you feel helped by what he offered you. "Thank you…" you say to him, hesitating to end your sentence as you wish you are able to say the name, but you can't say things you don't know of.

He lets out a tiny laugh as he realises he had been stupid enough to help you before asking whether you need it, and without politely introducing himself, but he's used to helping everyone here now that he's so close to meeting his soulmate. "I'm Johnny, the one who usually helps others around here" He introduces himself, clearly it's not the first time that he does this but you had already figured that out the moment he gave you some useful advice. "I'm y/n, I guess I'm new here. Almost like a high school student on the first day of the first year."

Johnny can't help but let out a soft laugh at the latter part of your introduction, simply because he said something along the lines of that back when he was the youngest of the group here. In a matter of months or even weeks, that position drastically changed. "Everyone is like that at the start, but some new people will join sooner or later. Before you know it, you will be helping them as I helped you."

The words - just like before - stick onto your brain, luckily not onto your heart like his other set of words did. You break the eye-contact with him to instead stare at the many books waiting on the shelves, hoping that magically your soulmate would make one of them fall in the palm of your hand. But it's not as simple as that: your soulmate won't connect the dots for you, it's you who has to do that and your soulmate might create a shape out of it.

With a soft sigh, your eyes flutter themselves shut to get into a moment of peace. It's the scenery of the park that always does the trick for you: it's calming despite knowing there is a life-altering meaning behind it. The tree engulfs you between its branches, and you're safe under the oak with the daisies by your side. The daisies where the book showed you a ritual named "effeuiller la marguerite" of. But it's the tree that keeps you from harm, that invites you to come back over and over again.

It takes a few seconds to remember the scientific classification Cyan gave you, as she probably read it in the same book that you read on that day. Nonetheless, the Quercus dentata unconsciously became a part of the baseline information of which you thought you had it organised. But Johnny was right: you had to focus on things you experienced.

The daimyo oak that engulfs you in its branches seems to want to tell you something, it's an enchanting moment even though it's only a daydream that you find yourself getting lost in. The information that it gives you is purely its existence, yet it's linked to the existence of your soulmate too.

You tilt your head as you have the impression that someone is walking up to you with slow steps, yet it's like that because your heart tells you to live in the moment. The footsteps don't look like Cyan's unstable pace of steps, and on top of that, it's more like a manly figure which you notice by his legs and shoes. It's vague but the individual details will together give you a clear view, layer per layer.

Despite the fact that you're aware it's not Cyan walking up to you, you can't imagine someone else doing so and you have no other option but already think of the outstanding features that strike the starring role in your daydreams. You start to get twitchy with each step the person takes closer to you: it's an eerie feeling that you don't know what to think of. It's a daydream that you're living in, but it all seems a bit too real to be just a dream during the early hours of the evening.

In your daydream, you close your eyes, in hopes that when you open them, you won't be able to see anything but the peaceful scenery around you. Yet, luck isn't always by your side and for once, that's a good thing. You open your eyes and immediately met up with a pair of soft-sentimental-looking eyes. They're brown, in a shade that could be defined by the world's most cherished colour of brown.

"You coloured my heart ecru"

「 ɢʜᴏꜱᴛᴡʜɪᴛᴇ # ꜰ8ꜰ8ꜰꜰ 」

Blank-faced, you look up from the syllables that form a term together, your eyes are slow to react to the sound that triggers your other senses easily. The iron door creaks open as slow as your eyes focus on it, but you're quick to give up the hope that you're going to be the only one in the library tonight. Cyan's voice is quiet but still gets louder with every step she takes inside the library, symbolically taking the young man under her protective wings as he walks into the library after her.

The thick book closes as your elbow moves from between the two separated parts, but it goes unnoticed as your eyes are drawn to Cyan's new -victim- soulmate. A rare warmth spreads around the room and circles him like it's his aura presenting him, he's the young lad your existence softens for.

"I assume this is the library you've been looking for" Cyan announces to the stranger as she smiles at his sudden humbleness. His hands fold together politely as his feet are tightly pressed together to only take up one tile out of the hundreds that embrace him. "A little disclaimer before the library overwhelms you with useless information: pluck the book your heart chooses for you, it's commissioned by your soulmate."

You can see the expression change on his face, there's a universal set of facial expressions of emotion, and surprise seems to be one of the six universal possibilities right now. He doesn't show any of the critical signals aside from the arch that his eyebrows form into. "How do they tell me which book?" He asks once the surprise makes space for an emotion that you can't read so well.

"It just happens, Jungwoo. It might take some time but they will naturally come to you"

With the useless piece of advice, Cyan decides she has given him enough to leave him to his task. She walks away from the new test-subject and moves to a set of books that the others left behind a few hours ago. You can still recognise the cover of the book that Johnny had been reading earlier, and the book Ley read about life after meeting your soulmate. The two of them were awfully close to meeting their soulmates, with Johnny already knowing what the name of his soulmate was. Unlike you: you only possessed of the birth date of your soulmate.

When Cyan's footsteps are the only ones you can hear, your head slightly turns to the side to see around the room and catch the stranger standing on the same tile as before. He seems glued to the tile, the tips of his Nike-branded shoes rub over one another in an attempt to soothe himself, but it only shows how unfamiliar he is with the situation. You can't blame him, you had been like that too not long ago.

"You should sit if you want to" you break the uncomfortable, nearly timed, sound of Cyan's footsteps against the floor. The sound moves to a layer in the background as your voice is now the centre of attention combined with the presence of the young man.

You don't expect an answer to your words as it was a mere offer. But the silence makes your voice fade out instantaneously. One layer less, another chance for silence to fill the room like it did when you were sitting here alone. The stranger can only nod in response, clearly feeling shy when his feet shuffle to the moon-shaped table that is diagonal of yours. He quietly lowers his body and takes a seat on the low stool.

Unfortunately for the stranger, you don't have a lot of time to make him feel at ease in the library. It's self-discipline, something you badly need when you're isolated in this place for almost ten hours and that six days a week. There's more than enough work to do, and much like exams, distractions only cause more harm than help.

Your book is still closed on your desk, a result of getting distraught by Cyan and the stranger bursting into the library not long ago. Soon you notice what happened to your book and let out a tiny curse to yourself, your hands working quickly to open the book again. It's a hard task to find the exact page you left off at: any page between the numbers two hundred nineteen and six hundred eighty would be the one you read last. You know you're to blame for this, not Cyan, not the newbie. More discipline wouldn't be a bad idea.

Your fingertips tumble over each page hastily, starting at page two hundred nineteen to continue browsing over every page that follows after that. If you see the word you read last, you know which page it is, but to do that, you still have to turn each page until your eyes encounter the word. Now that you think of it, you don't even remember which word it was, but hope to retrieve it soon.

On the other side of the library, there are ten fingertips that aren't actively browsing from page to page in a book. Rather than browsing in a book, they're tapping onto the moon-shaped table continuously. It's a composition of instrumentless and voiceless music, a song you never heard, but you don't prefer having to hear it twice.

"I'm sorry but can you stop? I'm trying to focus" you announce in a questioning way, not losing the politeness in your voice as it almost sounds like it's only an option for him to quit. Luckily, he does as you expect of him, causing his fingers to tremble from the sudden lack of stress-relief. "Sorry," he says in a soft tone, sending an apologetic smile your way but the innocence in his voice already causes you to forgive him. "I guess I was trying to call out to my soulmate or something," he says, not holding back the snippet of laughter that nervously bubbles from his lips.

You don't know why your lips curve up into a smile at his lame joke, perhaps because it's amusing to see someone being nervous about being here. Now you now why Cyan works in this library, she can laugh at people's stupidity on a daily basis. You still remember how entertained she was when you said numerous spells to the door when you only had to say the colour you picked out to open the door.

"It's okay" you say back to him and smile, but you notice from the look on his face that he's filled to the brim with nerves. "You must be nervous" you suggest, giving him the opportunity to open up if that's what he needs right now. You, like no one else, are aware of the unfavourable feelings that the soulmate context brings along. After days, you still don't have a label to paste on the feelings from back then, simply because you still don't know what to feel now either. "I am. One of my friends already met his soulmate, and my parents are soulmates too. They suggested for me to visit this place as they said not everyone can find their soulmate randomly" he explains even if he doesn't state the reason why he's so nervous. Perhaps the pressure is the reason: pressured to find his special person because his friend did and his parents obviously did too.

You nod at his explanation, making sure he knows that you're listening, but you don't interrupt as you want to hear how he feels. His story reminds you of Sicheng who made you believe even more than you perhaps did before. Whether you were a believer or not, is something you don't remember because you simply didn't think about it that often. Perhaps you were a believer, or one of the more sceptical people, or you could have been a non-believer. Whatever you were, it didn't matter anymore, you are a believer now.

"My name is Jungwoo by the way," He says before you can respond to his explanation, he probably saw your facial expression as you were trying to form a correct answer and also didn't feel like telling you an uninteresting story of how he found out someone was his soulmate. To say it easily, the subject changed.

"I'm y/n"

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

It's twenty-five to eleven when you take the small steps to reach the street again, spinning on your heel to see Jungwoo sliding down the railing that separates the stairs evenly.

The sight makes you clasp your hand over your mouth in an attempt to silence the laugh that threatens to leave your lips. But only after you see Jungwoo losing his balance unexpectedly which causes his little playful moment to come to an end a little too soon. His feet stumble over the last two steps of the stairs before his body bumps against yours with full speed.

Not by speed, but by force, your body is dragged backwards and you almost hit the floor with a shocked Jungwoo in your arms. But before that happens, his fast reflexes are able to catch himself and you before the unfortunate event takes place. Yet, it doesn't stop the two pairs of feet from trying to find balance on the evenly divided ground.

"I'm sorry" Jungwoo immediately apologises as he makes sure your two feet can find balance without his arms holding you up, but the mere distance between your bodies causes his own feet to be unstable. It's a feeling he needs to shake off, his soulmate is somewhere waiting for him, and your soulmate must be waiting for you somewhere as well. "I was just trying to make you laugh, not fall"

"But I didn't fall, and I had a good laugh. Trust me, I had more fun in those seconds than in the past days" you admit easily to Jungwoo, it's the downside of being isolated in an underground library, but hopefully not a future consequence of looking for your soulmate. "Ah" is the only thing that slips past Jungwoo's lips at your response, it leaves both of you in a communal cloud of wondering what to say to not make it any more uneasy.

You simultaneously look into the same direction when a flower-shaped shadow seems to dwindle down from a large tree. "Did you see that?" You ask as confusion spreads over your face, your eyes torn between looking at Jungwoo or the shadow that slowly disappears once it hits the ground. The soft landing must have taken the silhouette to blend their shades into one.

"Sorry?" Jungwoo asks as he looks at you again, his head tilted to the left as he tries to find the reason behind your confusion. The beanie that refrains his hair from moving too much doesn't prevent his bangs from moving in the same direction as his head.

The reaction leaves you speechless and stumbling over your own words before you even say them, "the flower. A daisy just fell from that tree," you say as you point upwards to the large creation of nature. Jungwoo's eyes can't help but follow your fingers up to the leaves of the tree, he can't see the colour of them in the darkness, but daisies are absent in the almost-chromatic view.

"I don't see anything" he responds to your words as he tries to make his eyes work harder, but no matter how much he squints, the enlarged view shows a total lack of flowers in the tree, especially daisies.

Tiredness is clearly ruling a position as CEO while you're only a personal assistant for the feeling. "I'm tired, I bet it was something else or my eyes are just clowning around" you mumble in disappointment when you realise Jungwoo is right. When you look at the tree again, you don't see any daisies, and you become aware that daisies don't commonly fall from trees that aren't specific daisy trees.

"Sounds like you should go home" Jungwoo mumbles to you, letting a soft smile coat his lips and you're sure your clumsiness has been forgotten unless he's planning on teasing you with it for the upcoming time. It's something you see him capable of as earlier, he had a good laugh about a writer's odd name. But the soft smile that displays on his lips makes you trust him not to tease too much.

"I think I will" you confirm Jungwoo's suggestion, trying to give him a similar soft-looking smile in return, but you're too tired to control the muscles that make the gesture possible. Like a stereotypical teenager from a sappy romance, Jungwoo hides his large hands in his jeans pockets. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

Your response is a soft hum before you confirm it with your words. "I'm here every day, most of the day. So expect to see me a lot" you answer his question.

"I'll look forward to it" Jungwoo quickly tells you, the genuine tone in his voice refraining you from walking away without saying goodbye.

An hour later and you find yourself tucked in a thin sheet that is supposed to keep your body heat at a stable temperature for the rest of the night. Though, it's not the sheet that keeps your body at a pleasant temperature, but rather the little train of comforting thoughts that rides around in your mind.

From the little moments of laughter you shared with Jungwoo, to the sweet brown eyes of your soulmate that you continuously gaze into whenever you close your own.

It makes you feel warm inside

Your eyes - as they usually are when you're in bed - are closed as you want to go over all of the little big things of today. Yet, by now, you should know that it's a task you won't be able to fulfill.

While the colour is sometimes considered dull, the brown colour of his eyes seem to create other feelings. Feelings of warmth and wholesomeness as you gaze into them. The green palette of the park surrounds the two of you and you can feel the trunk of the Quercus dentata against your back.

"Don't pluck me daisies. Just make me be your flower"

「 ᴡʜɪᴛᴇꜱᴍᴏᴋᴇ # ꜰ5ꜰ5ꜰ5 」

"I don't understand what else I have to find out, Cyan" you breathe out as you drop the heavy-weighted book on top of some others that you had been scanning through for the past four and a half hours. Another two hundred seventy minutes wasted, and yes, wasted was the right word to use for all the time you spent in the library so far.

Cyan easily notices the high level of pressure, she already noticed when you first made your entrance of the day. "What do you mean by that?" She asks you as she tries to lift her body to sit on the side of the moon-shaped table but eventually just leans against it before accidents happen. "I already found out I have to play a game with the daisies, and my soulmate's birthday is February nineteen. What else do I have to find out?"

The way you say your words makes it easy for Cyan to see through them and bump into a big lump of exhaustion. It's a price many people pay but at the same time no one asked them to pay the fee, it's something people do to themselves because they're so desperate to claim someone to be theirs. You're no different from anyone when it comes to that, no one is any different. At least humans have one thing in common even though it doesn't make them less unique.

"Potentially, you could look for your soulmate"

A scowl coats your entire facial expression, your muscles doing work without you having to ask about it. You open your mouth to speak up but silence yourself from the string of curses and confusion that blend together to a feeling called bitterness.

"What?" You ask as you wish to get rid of your confusion, you swallow the curses you want to throw at her. You shouldn't curse at her, seeing that aside from her vague way of phrasing things, she's a blessing. The bitter feeling on the tip of your tongue is something you want to out but just like tastebuds, they stay in their place for you to enjoy the lingering bitterness a bit more. "You mean I've been here 24/7 for nothing?" you ask her, quick to hold her back because you receive a vague answer to your surprised exclaim, but even if this time your question is unmistakable, you still expect a similar answer.

"Darling," Cyan is about to continue but you hold up your hand in aim for her to stop. You know where her "darling" leads you in life. And that destination is non-existent.

Despite your tries to stop, she doesn't. "Listen to me y/n. You can go out and find your soulmate right now, no one ever told you to stay inside the library. If you know how to find your soulmate, go for it"

Now, that is something Cyan doesn't need to tell you twice. Instead of cursing at you, you now want to hug her tightly and press numerous pecks to her cheek to thank her. It's something you don't do though, but you could if you follow your current happy hunch.

It's the isolation that took a toll on your well-being and affected your way of coping with different emotions and situations. Before you entered this enchanted place, you were as sweet as a strawberry but now that you were allowed to leave, you walked out as a bitter cranberry that was kept in the fridge for one day too long.

"Are you serious?" You just want to hear her say the words once more, confirm that it was what she truly said before. You expect yourself to run out of the library within an instant, but your feet are attached to the tile as you wait for her to repeat the words once more.

She doesn't repeat the words once more, she simply nods and drifts off before you're able to stop her from doing so. Your eyes follow every movement she makes in the direction of another door and disappears behind it before you're able to see what is behind that door.

With your feet securely attached to the tiled-floor, you had no other option but to awkwardly stay still for at least sixty seconds. Your thoughts go blank at you look around the library.

Jungwoo is still sitting where he usually sits, his head buried between a book while his right hand is holding a pen in case he has to make notes. There is a white pair of earbuds in his ear so you assume or hope that he didn't hear the exclamations you made during the conversation with Cyan.

Generally, things aren't any more filled or less empty as they usually are. If anything misses, it's the presence of the other soulmate-searching humans. Today there's no Johnny, Ley, Isabelle, Donghyuck or any of the others that would usually be around at this hour of the day. You're aware they don't come every day, but you're so used to their presence filling up the ancient space even if they constantly read.

Your feet take you a step backwards, going towards the door to head outside. It's too early to celebrate that you can finally leave this antiquated hellhole because there's a hint of truth in Cyan's words, and you fear not being able to come back once you leave permanently.

"I'm going to go out for some air" you announce to no one in particular, it's not like anyone is available to you, but you still feel like telling so that Cyan and Jungwoo both know that you'll be back in a matter of minutes. You mean to see that Jungwoo nods, but realise soon that he's only bobbing his head along to a pop song.

You spin around and take the silence as an opportunity to leave for a few minutes, it doesn't have to be long, just some time to properly think and put everything on a non-organised timeline in your head. The iron door closes as you take your leave and follow the stairs up, right now they seem to lead to temporary freedom.

Once you're outside, it seems like you haven't seen the world in more than a year, even if it's been a matter of days, not even enough to make a sum that ends in enough days for a month. You have no idea what time it is until you look up at the sky and imagine this must be what the sky looks like when it's afternoon.

Your freedom only lasts for a minute, before you know it, you're claimed by whoever is making your phone vibrate in your back pocket. How did you even forget about the little device you used to be obsessed with?

Your hand slips in your pocket, clutching the phone between your parted fingertips before pulling it out of the pocket. It's only a matter of seconds before the phone is facing you with a bright screen, revealing that it's not just a text message but that someone is calling you.

Called ID is no other than your best friend Sicheng, and you waste no time in picking up the phone to hear what he has to say. You breathe into the speaker without realising that you do, already looking forward to hearing a voice other than Cyan's.

"y/n? Are you okay?" Sicheng asks, hiding a cough because he thinks he disturbed you in a heated moment, yet that's far from what is going on right now. "I am, sorry" you quickly say, regaining control over yourself to not pull such weird stunts once again. The last thing you want is Sicheng to think about your bed-activities.

"I've been trying to call you for the past two hours now, but it never went through" Sicheng breathes out himself but it's a sigh of relief that he finally gets to talk to you. He's not the type to call, so he must have been in a state of distress when he wasn't able to reach you. "I was busy, sorry" you apologise once more to him.

Sicheng sighs for the second time, it's another exhale of pure relief. "I have to talk to you, do you have time? It's important," he says before you're able to ask why he called you non-stop for the past two hours. You opt to nod but after a few seconds, realise that he can't see it. Normally he's next to you but now you're hearing his voice through the phone so he can't see you, and you can't see him.

"Of course, I have time" you answer Sicheng as you try to speak in a comforting tone, not aware of what Sicheng is about to say but it already sounds like it's something serious. "What is it?" you ask when your eyes don't pick up any response, no sound, nix.

"It's about the daisies"

You are all eyes and ears once he mentions the little flowers that have become so precious to you. Your eyes even glance to the spot where you thought you saw a daisy dwindling a couple of days ago, back when Jungwoo must have labelled you as lunatic.

"What about the daisies?" you ask back carefully, your hand fumbling with the edge of your shirt as your heartbeat picks up the pace. Through your veins spread nothing but fear, because deep in your heart you know exactly what happened to the white-coloured flowers.

"How long has it been since you were in the park?"

The question doesn't take you by surprise but it makes your nerves build up even more. The pit in your stomach now seems to take up al available space and even then, it only seems to grow bigger and bigger. Your mind has to dig through countless of book pages to get to the asked piece of information: when was the last time you had been in the park?

"A few days ago?" you answer in a questioning tone, admitting the words take you by surprise. It gives you time to reflect on yourself: how you abandoned the park for the library, and the real tree for a fantasia daydream of it. All of that for your soulmate, even if it's your own fault.

Sicheng hears how unsure you are by the underlying tone in your voice, it gives away that you're either way insecure or scared. He opts for the second one: it obviously wasn't going to be good news if he had been trying to reach you for over two hours just to happily talk about your visits to the park. "I was there today, y/n."

"And?" you impatiently urge for him to continue speaking before you properly processed the words that he went to the park. It's nerve-wracking to wait until he finally speaks up, even if you doubt that you want to hear what he has to say.

Nix.

"The daisies are gone, someone plucked them off. Only some stems are left"

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

When you wished for freedom, you didn't wish for the four daisies to be plucked away from you.

Your fingers dig through the grass in an attempt to find remains of the daisies, or find new barely-blooming daisies. You run your fingers through the cold grass multiple times, your eyes observing between the blades of grass to hopefully encounter something.

Sadly, you have to conclude that everything is gone, aside from the stems that are hidden between the grass. Clearly, the non-beautiful pieces were left even if they were critical to the white-yellow-coloured flower. There is a torn piece of a white petal laying in the depths of the grass, and you grieve over it.

Tears are endangering the soft and dry skin fo your cheeks, but the wet tears stay hidden in the corners of your eyes for as long as you're strong enough to hold them back. "Why?"

You don't get a response to your question, simply because you're not asking anyone, and no one is around you to answer. You know it's a question you can answer for yourself, and there is only one answer possible: you're the one to blame.

The blame is put on yourself, for various and valid reasons. For starters, you abandoned the park to spend your time in a library where books guide your feelings instead of your heart. Second, you were the person that wished for freedom and it heavily affected your chances to ever meet your soulmate in this life.

The combination of thoughts trigger the tears and they take their chance to slowly roll down your cheeks in grief. You feel your cheeks getting wet with remains of sadness, regret and grief. Before the first one falls onto the green grass, another one already rushes out and follows the wet trail.

You want to close your eyes and disappear from reality, but you don't allow yourself to see your soulmate's soft orbs when you close your own. Instead, you can only stare at what should have been the flowers guiding you as you walked on the path to your soulmate.

Whatever there is left to grasp, you grasp between your fingertips. You pull pieces of grass from the earth in the process of taking the leftover stems from their designated growing space.

When you stand up from your kneeled position, you faintly notice that the jeans fabric that covers your knees became a mixed colour of green and brown: the colours of grass and dirt. But the discoloured jeans are the least of your concerns right now.

With the stems of the daisies tightly clutched in your fist, you leave the daimyo oak alone by running out of the park. There's only one place you can go, and only one person that can tell you what to do: Cyan.

Your feet had never been this fast whilst running to the library, nor had your eyes done an effort of this kind to make sure you didn't bump into fellow humans or objects. That was one less disappointment for you to worry about. You had no idea for how long you ran when you finally arrived at the library, it seemed to have taken hours but in reality, it must have been a matter of minutes.

"Ecru" leaves you lips before you run through the barely-opened door to get inside the library. You look around frantically, searching for Cyan but you can only see Jungwoo who is still studying whatever he got to know about his soulmate.

Your feet skip over the large tiles as you march over to Jungwoo, trying to be understanding but you pull at the cord of his earbuds so that at least one of them falls from his ear. His lips are parted in surprise and it takes him a second to turn his head and realise that it's you who did it.

"Where is Cyan?"

Jungwoo doesn't answer your question immediately, causing you to only get more anxious. Tears start to rapidly flow down your cheeks, they do it gracefully but the sight looks far from that in third-person view.

"Why are you crying?" Jungwoo asks you worriedly, grasping your arm in an attempt to pull you into a comforting hug. But your trembling hands don't allow it, yet, they're too weak to stay together to protect whatever is left of the little daisies.

The remains sadly fall to the floor, descending from between your fingertips and onto the cold tiles. Your eyes meet Jungwoo's momentarily but as soon as you become aware of the emptiness in your hands, your blurry vision shifts to your hands, and towards the floor.

One droplet, two droplets and still flowing. Falling on the sadly fallen flower stems and petals.

"They plucked my daisies" you croak out in a broken voice, staring at the floor where the faint green colour becomes the eye-catcher of the scenery. Your blurry vision leaves you with nothing but hues, you can't even recognise the shape of a stem in the little heap that was on the floor.

You still feel the stems falling from between your fingers even though you're left empty-handed.

"Your daisies?" Jungwoo asks as he stares at the floor as well. His vision clear enough to see blades of grass, mixed with a couple of while petals and next to them some more greenery that he can't particularly name because they look the same as grass but a different texture. It's the little petal that makes him realise what you mean when you say the word 'daisies' but it still doesn't click in his mind.

His hand awkwardly moves towards you as you continue to sadly drop your tears over the greenery, his hand is reaching towards your back but pulls back in hesitation.

Before Jungwoo is able to make up his mind about the right way of comforting you, your name is called by Cyan who almost spurts from the hidden room within the library. She marches over to you with quick and heavy steps until she's right in front of you.

"y/n, what's wrong?" Cyan asks as her foot hovers over the stems unnoticeably, her hands move to your shoulders to make looking into your eyes possible. Her hands instantly straighten your shoulders but your eyes never leave the stems that are now crushed by a pair of elderly-woman shoes. You don't have the guts to say anything about it, if anything, it makes you realise that your chance to meet your soulmate is crushed.

"My daisies" you start to say but you can't finish off what you said so far. The daisies were the only living organism that mattered to you aside from your soulmate, and now, both of those were lost. Your arms that limply hang from your body bring a movement to your index finger, merely pointing down to where Cyan is standing. The effort goes by unnoticed, even by yourself.

"Your daisies?" Cyan inquires but the tears that freely run down your cheeks give away the answer before you even have to tell her what's going on. Better than you know, she is aware of your task and aware of the five daisies that led you to your soulmate. She doesn't judge even if she knows, she listens.

You nod your head, hiccuping due to the lump of sadness that is stuck in your throat. "Someone plucked my daisies and now they are gone."

Cyan's hands that had been on your shoulders, rapidly move to the back of your head as she pulls your body against her own. Her lips part as she wants to say everything will be okay any upcoming day, but that sadly wasn't the truth, nor would you believe it if she said that.

"Look at me," she tells you, once again holding onto your shoulders as she distances your bodies. Your tear-filled eyes are slow to react and ignorant as you can barely focus them on her. "This doesn't mean the end, y/n. I'm going to help you look for a way to make this right."

You want to trust her, you really do. But you can't bring yourself to put a grain of trust in her words because they seem unrealistic, just like everything else that is happening in this library.

"y/n," she says your name effortlessly because she knows you're listening even if you are not willing to. "I'm going to help you. Together we can still find your soulmate" she tells you, just the same words as earlier but with different words and phrases.

You take her hands away from your shoulders and shake your head in response. Your earlier wish for freedom becomes the wish to never remember any of the things that happened, a wish for the daimyo oak to permanently and magically disappear from the park so that you never have to look back at it again.

"Sorry Cyan," You say to her, the words hide the exact phrase that you're giving up or you've already given up at this point. Once more, your eyes meet the floor in sadness.

A virgin-white petal stares at you from its position on the floor, it's as damaged as your heart is, yet, its condition doesn't make you feel less lonely. You bend down, not caring if both Cyan and Jungwoo are staring at you whilst you grieve over the lost and broken petals.

Your fingertip reaches out for the petal, carefully lifting it as it rests on your fingertip.

You have to decide if you're going to wilt like a daisy or if you're just going to go forward and live the life that you've been granted

「 ʙᴇɪɢᴇ # ꜰ5ꜰ5ᴅᴄ 」

Your fingertip caresses the outline of the daisy that is printed on the spine of the book, your finger lifting slightly when it comes across one of the raised bands in the middle of the spine. It's useless to open the book but you can't help it, you open the book until the gutter is steady enough to separate the two parts.

Another illustration of a daisy stares back at you as you observe it, it's the anatomy of a daisy, something you surely knew by head at this point. Why did you still remember it even when you would never be able to use the knowledge?

Your heart hurts, almost symbolically sinks when your thumb tumbles over a few chapters, a new page greeting you with the uses of a daisy. Your eyes follow the different uses: culinary when its young leaves are between other edible greenery in a salad, herbal medicine when their juice is extracted to heal wounds, soulmate when it's destined that a person looks for an object of affection through the French game effeuiller la marguerite.

You swallow away the lump of sentiment in the back of your throat, trying not to gaze upon the infamous word, but you read out the word silently at least five times, once for every flower you abandoned in the park. Your thumb moves to the corner of the page, over the page number in hopes to skip over the page.

Yet, two minutes later, your eyes still read over the words while your thumb is frozen upon the digits that you don't want to change. It's like you're sentimentally obsessed, a bad consequence of not being able to say goodbye before your grieving process began.

Donghyuck who has been studying a book about dreams -as he has been dreaming about his soulmate and still would dream about them until the day they would meet one another -, stands up from his stool as he sees you lurking around the bookshelves in distress and grief.

"Are you alright, y/n?" he asks with a caring smile on his lips, you miss the sight because your eyes are endlessly pasted on the page of the book. At first, you only nod in response before muttering out a quiet, "yes."

Donghyuck shakes his head, his hand pulling on the top edge of the book to take it from your tight grip. "Focus on me for a few seconds, please. I know you're not alright," he says as he manages to conquer your weak grip, receiving the book between his hands even if it was never your intention for it to end up in his hands.

"I don't want to talk," You say as you look at Donghyuck but only momentarily, not allowing him to look at your tear-filled eyes for longer than a handful of seconds. You lower your head, facing the floor and mistakably see the green hue of the stems even when the floor is clean and only matte in its own dark-blue colouration.

"I know," Donghyuck responds, his hands gently put away the book on the nearby bookshelf before he takes your hands in his to hold. "But you can't give up now, your soulmate is waiting somewhere for you. Are you going to give all of that up because of the daisies?"

Even if you don't want to listen to what he has to say - because you've heard the same words at least twenty times in the past week - you can't help but listen to every word and consider it in the depths of your mind. "I know," you answer to his words but leave his question unanswered.

Yes, you are going to give up the progress you made because your daisies are plucked away. There is no reason for you to continue the search of your object of affection just to please your inner-soulmate personality or dreams. The longer you think about it, the more doubts you start to have with everything that has happened. No one could change your mind thus far: not Johnny who came by to say he met his soulmate, not Émilie that took your seat the times she was there, not Cyan who tried her hardest to be a positivist in this situation.

"Don't give up yet," Donghyuck said as he looked at you, a sad smile coating his lips because he felt emotional by just the sight and thought. If he were to lose the one thing that could lead him to his soulmate, he would have given up too, perhaps even earlier than you did. "You still have the daimyo oak in the park right? Please don't give up so soon."

You don't plan on replying to Donghyuck's endless pleading about you giving up, but a response is not anticipated anymore when the noise of the iron doors opening suddenly interrupts the conversation. All heads turn to the door, even yours is quick to react by giving all of your focus to the door instead of the melancholic-looking floor.

You catch a glimpse of who is running out of the door before it slowly starts to close again.

Black-haired Jungwoo who had been dressed in his usual jeans with nothing but a simple shirt to dress him up casually for the daily library visits. The white Converse-branded shoes on his feet take him out of the library as fast as his feet allow him to go. Walking is not even an option, he is running.

"What is going on?" Donghyuck and you simultaneously blurt out when seeing the young boy run out like his life is depending on it. Even when the iron-grated door slowly closes again, your eyes don't recolate, too astonished by the sudden unexplained and unexpected situation.

Cyan slowly steps forward towards the door as she sees it closing, she carries a smile on her lips as she knows exactly what is going on. She glances proudly at the closed doors, her eyes slowly blinking as her imagination is prepared to show her what is going to follow next. "His soulmate," she answers shortly, giving you and Donghyuck a soft look "flowers are blooming on his path, he must know the way."

The words leave you and Donghyuck clueless, but it's the smile displayed on her lips that make you the most confused that you have been in a while. You have the perception that Jungwoo found his soulmate, or at least is one step further than he was last week.

As you feel your heart breaking, you experience happiness that Jungwoo found his soulmate.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

The minute hand ticks around the clock twice, it signals four times in two hours: when a new hour is announced and when that same hour passed halfway already.

One hundred sixty-six minutes pass by on the clock, you don't count any of the minutes but you're aware enough of the time each time you take a small glance. Due to the observing skill, it's not hard to count how many minutes pass by.

The minute hand is about to move a millimetre under your watching eyes, but you get distraught by the sound of the door opening. It can only be one person, the person everyone waited for: the person Donghyuck and you stayed longer for, the person Cyan dropped her work for.

Jungwoo appears inside again with a jubilant smile coating his lips, he looks like he won a singing contest but is out of breath due to the timeworn use of his voice. He breathes deeply as the doors close, giving him a cool breeze even though his body feels too warm to get cooled off.

"y/n," he starts immediately as his steps approach you, his pace fast but the rhythm in his footsteps are off due to the running back and forth he did. Twelve steps further, he stops when he is only two steps away from making physical contact with you.

You stay silent as you're taken by surprise, surprised by the sudden unexpected scenario that is yet to unfold right in front of your eyes. Speechless, even after a few seconds, you still can't utter out a response.

"I was in the park," Jungwoo says as he notices your silence, his breathing faintly coating a layer of warmth on your cheeks due to the condensation. His hand reaches out to yours gently, running only the pad of his thumb over the skin of your hand. "In the park?" you ask him soft, your expression brightening by a whisker, but it's enough for Jungwoo to see the changes.

"I was in the park" He repeats again, his other four fingertips slowly embracing yours until he is properly holding your hand in his. Your hand is trembling in anticipation or fear, for whatever is about to leave his lips next.

You nod in response, urging for him to continue speaking, you want to pull the words out of his mind so that you can hear them sooner, but realise he must have seen something unforeseen. "I went to the park for you, because I heard you talking about the Daimyo oak. So I immediately left and went there, and under the tree was a daisy."

A daisy. Those are the only two words you process out of all of the words he said. It's quiet when you try to once again process and accept what he said, your imagination running wild over the thought of one single daisy blooming under the oak, giving you another chance to meet your soulmate.

"Are you for real?" you ask as a smile slowly creeps onto your lips, your lips desire to curve upwards but you don't let them because your heart doesn't want to be harmed in case it was only a sick joke on your grieving process.

Jungwoo excitedly bobs his head up and down as a yes, he's excited but at the same time he has never been so serious about something before, he's torn with what way to bring over the news to you in order for you to believe it. But the young man can't contain the positivity that streamed through his veins when under the Daimyo oak, he saw a tiny daisy growing.

"You have to get to the park," Donghyuck says with a bright smile, Jungwoo's excitement clearly getting transferred to Donghyuck because he's unable to control the happy expression on his face. His eyes shift to Jungwoo and then back to you, not even considering Cyan who has been standing with you as well. "Go!"

Cyan clears her throat before you can do as Donghyuck says, it doesn't stop you from taking a step towards the door but does stop you from running out of the library to check if a daisy is really growing in the spot where the other four had been plucked away. She calls your name to make you turn towards her, which you do as you become aware that she wants to say something.

"Don't let it get plucked away again," She starts saying in a serious tone, almost strict as this might truly be the last chance you have to find your soulmate. You react by nodding your head, not giving her words attention, nor do you use your own words to reply to her.

It turns out to be Donghyuck who triggers you into ignoring Cyan "go!" he shouts and in reaction to that, you take off running. You exchange the library for the outside world again, this time not for freedom, but for your soulmate who might have given you one last chance.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Desire is like a storm. Things get broken

There is a quote saying "where flowers bloom, so does hope."

Hope bloomed in the depths of your heart as you ran all the way from the library to the park, running over the grass instead of the path just to get there a few seconds faster. From afar you weren't able to see if your tree engulfed a little blooming daisy.

But once you came closer, close enough to observe small-scaled details. One thing you're not able to observe is the growth of a little miracle in the grass.

Green is the only colour that paints the grass-filled space underneath the tree, you're not colour-blind, as no petals nor disks stare at you as you stare down in search for them. There are no daisies growing, peeking from out of the grass to grow even taller than the green blades.

"Where is the daisy?" you ask yourself quietly as you glance around your aura, circling around like a clock but it's useless. Nothing is growing, nor blooming, aside from the pain in your heart, even though you're embraced by the branches of the Daimyo oak.

Your view lowers itself another notch, this time in disappointment as there is nothing more to observe. Whether Jungwoo played a joke on you, or the flower got plucked away between the time that you and Jungwoo separately observed here, is something that doesn't matter. It's not Jungwoo's fault, nor is it the tree's that didn't protect its fellow natural miracle. It's your fault, you couldn't even live life as a natural flower, you bloomed like an artificial flower.

「 ꜰʟᴏʀᴀʟᴡʜɪᴛᴇ # ꜰꜰꜰᴀꜰ0 」

Your slouched shoulders effortlessly moved along with the natural movement as soon as you sigh, the walls seem to tighten after you let out the sigh. You feel closed in but the walls are so far away, it feels like you are left alone in a place you don't recognise anymore.

The physical sensation you feel when you sigh makes it clear that you're heartbroken, if not any feeling that is even worse than heartbreak. Even though heartbreak is the excellent word to use right now, broken not by your soulmate, but by yourself.

There's a hot cup in your hands, hot from the heat of the beverage, but it doesn't warm up your cold fingertips, nor does your heart feel warm by the little source of heat.

Less than one week ago, your days still felt enchanted. Filled to the upper brim with magic of the unexplained. Your warm beverage had tasted like the loveliest love potion, and you had willingly drunk every sip until the last drop fell on your tongue.

Each day was different but no less magical, if anything, each day that passed was more magical than the other. The twenty-four hours in a day resembled one step towards your soulmate, thus you walked the path for countless hours, and got one step closer to the promised land with each day that appeared on the calendar.

Dull. Days no longer felt magical or enchanted. Days were endlessly filled with dullness: every twenty-four hours, all one thousand four hundred forty hours, and the many seconds you could convert it to but that would fall into more depressive thoughts about never being able to walk the path.

Flowers had wilted on the path, blooming was something that wouldn't occur again. It was one of a kind opportunity to see the path filled with flowers. Unforgettable. Now you're doomed to walk on the same path and notice how the shades of reality coloured life but left the wilted flowers monochrome.

"ecru"

The word is hidden behind the muffled scoff that you let out but you can hear yourself saying the words. You don't expect a large door to grant you access to a library this time, if anything, you wish for something grander. Whether your grand wish has something to do with your soulmate is something you don't even know: you wish to meet him but at the same time you wish to forget everything that happened. Even though you're sitting in your own home, you hope that you can forget the past weeks and return home. A world without Daimyo oak and daisies.

Next to the post-it note where the term of the colour is scribbled down on, is your phone that has been endlessly occupied with its buzzing indications. It's something you opted to ignore for the past forty minutes even though the buzzing is more bothersome than the person who is spamming you with possible supportive messages.

You let out a soft sigh when the buzzing finally comes to a halt for longer than five seconds, you can't see it yourself but a sense of relief is washing over your facial expression, coating the sadness momentarily.

Now that the obnoxious buzzing isn't filling your eardrums, you feel tempted to pick up the phone and look at the messages, perhaps even force yourself to reply to some of them. Your temptation is hard to neglect, and within a span of nine seconds, the phone moves from the table into your hand.

The plain lockscreen of a professionally photographed scenery makes you think negatively about the way people see reality, it's them that see all of the nice colours while in reality, things are as coloured as you make them, and you're not planning on continuing your life with a pair of ecru-coloured glasses sugarcoating the world.

You're about to press the button to make your screen go black but get reminded of the many notifications because of the little border that restricts you from seeing the full picture on the screen. You take a second to stare at all of them: not individually even if multiple messages and useless emails have been displayed there, the global look seems to be your concept for picking who is important enough to reply to.

One name catches your attention, a name that you put in your contacts but never received a message from, nor ever sent a message to him: Kim Jungwoo.

Jungwoo [ 9 : 59 am ] : please reply, Cyan said that you shouldn't let the daisy get plucked away

The message makes you press the screen multiple times, once to say you want to read the message and twice to confirm to your phone that opening the messaging app is all you want at this moment. The coloured lockscreen disappears from your sight, instead, you're greeted with at least a dozen of one-sided messages, waiting for a response from you.

You scroll up lightly, until the moment your screen nearly hits the top of the saved conversation. Intensely, you read them word by word even though minutes ago, you swore you became a non-believer

Jungwoo [ 9 : 10 am ] : are you awake? There's something I need to say

Jungwoo [ 9 : 31 am ] : the daisy is under the oak in the park

Jungwoo [ 9 : 31 am ] : please believe me this time, I swear it's there

Jungwoo [ 9 : 46 am ] : let me go to the park with you, I'll show you

Jungwoo [ 9 : 48 am ] : please believe me. This oak is my birth flower and I believe in the magic that it would grant you a daisy because it did. I swear the daisy is there

Jungwoo [ 9 : 50 am ] : I'm staying here until you reply

Even though it was a waste of time, you still read the remaining seven messages to yourself, they all said the same, they all told you to reply or get your ass to the park as fast as possible. Another element that returned in more than half of the messages: the daisy.

Your feet are steadily placed on the floor, your legs seem to make it a forceful feeling like you're preparing to start running a marathon any second now. Indeed, you are ready for takeoff whenever the last straw triggers you into doing so. There's only one destination, one path, one marathon trail and that leads you straight to the park.

But it's your mind that runs a different marathon and prevents you from putting stupid thoughts into action, your mind endlessly avoids both of the paths there are: to go or not to go. You have enough reasons not to, seeing last time there hadn't been a daisy. If there is a reason to go, it's for your soulmate.

There is nothing you can lose by going, or at least that's what your heart tells you to tone down the loudness of your mind's unsteady footsteps. Plus you still trust Jungwoo, despite him being incorrect about the daisy last time, but you convince yourself that he stood under the wrong tree…

"The wrong tree?" You question the words you tried to convince yourself of, it's a thought that didn't cross your mind before but he had never explicitly said the Daimyo oak was his birth flower. It meant that he wouldn't be able to choose the wrong tree, there was only one Daimyo oak in the park, and apparently, it was accompanied by one daisy.

Jungwoo [ 10 : 13 ] : please come to the park

The buzz from the phone almost went through your veins, triggering you into the takeoff you had expected. Without responding to the text, you put the phone in your pocket as you got up from your chair.

Left your house, door wide open, heaven knows.

The daisy is so worth it, it is.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

The unbuttoned grey trenchcoat that Jungwoo is wearing immediately pulls your attention, almost no one could pull off being so tall and make a trenchcoat look shorter than it proportionally was. Yet, it is the pure-looking facial features that bring the small sign of happiness to your lips.

"Finally!" He breathes out as you take the last few steps towards him, removing his hands from the 'storm' pockets to immediately run them through his black haircut instead. His body is filled with healthy tension and perhaps fear as well, because he badly wants you to believe him, after all, he had been speaking the truth all this time.

"How long have you been here?" You ask worriedly as you imagine him being here for way longer than you might realise, especially when you think about the forty minutes that he begged for you to come to the park. Jungwoo shrugs in response but there's a mischievous smile that tells you everything you need to know, "not too long".

As you look at Jungwoo, the Daimyo oak seems to naturally catch your attention by being as tall as it is. You don't need to tell the black-haired boy in front of you about the oak, nor about your newly-found excitement and hope about the daisy because Jungwoo can almost feel your emotions spreading through the many veins in his body.

"Oh!" Jungwoo reminds himself when he remembers why the mischievous smile was on his lips and the reason why he had been waiting here at the park for over an hour. "You have to come and look at the daisy," he said as his hand leaves his hair and immediately reaches out for your hand.

It would have looked like him dragging you along if it weren't for your own fast-paced footsteps that match Jungwoo's as you march towards the oak. You stay quiet as you anticipate the appearance of a little daisy, but Jungwoo can only let out a happy sound that almost sounds like a giggle.

You heard those happy giggles before, years ago, when your friends played "loves me, loves me not" with the daisies in the park and you wonder if soon you will be the giggly person because there is someone who answered you positively. You might not be at the appropriate age to giggle about such things, but better late than never. And when you're old: nostalgia is nostalgia, no matter at which age you were giggly over a lover you met through a game of loves me, loves me not.

Your feet move slightly faster than Jungwoo's when you're only a few steps away from being under what seems like your safe haven. Jungwoo takes it as a sign and slowly lets go of your hand, stopping his feet from moving before he's able to step into your safe bubble.

His eyes follow every movement you make, his eyes shining with happiness for you but he feels a little piece of his heart hiding the feelings that he isn't supposed to feel. He doesn't want to feel as okay as he feels, he wants to tear up but something tells him it's okay to be okay. His thoughts take him to fragments of time: when he saw you laugh or when he saw the tears rolling down your cheeks, all of the times he can look back on with his honest heart that stays hidden for the outside world.

"Jungwoo?"

Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, he doesn't need to move his head to be able to see you as he had been staring at you and the scenery unknowingly. Nervously, his hand itches the back of his neck but still doesn't get the hint that something is expected from him.

"There is no daisy," You tell him even if it is too quiet for him to hear it, you only hear yourself say the words. You wish you were in a phase of denial, a phase where your mind will sugarcoat the sad story with something untrue and non-realistic. "There is no daisy!"

The second time the words leave your lips, Jungwoo can clearly hear what you said. "What do you mean?" Jungwoo asks incoherently, confusion fills his mind but he can't see anything because you're standing in front of the spot where he saw the daisy before.

His lips part slightly to speak but nothing comes out, he swore he saw the daisy here before you were here, and the time when you didn't show up at all as well. There was only one flower so how would he be mistaken so much? His breathing is stuck in his throat from the bundle of nerves that block the way.

With heavy - almost plumbum-feeling - feet he drags himself under your safe haven and his birth tree. Just like all the times before this one, he feels a sense of warmth engulfing him like the tree is holding protective branches around his body and above his head.

His feet come to a halt right next to you, like an anchor sinking to the depths of the sea, he stranded to this particular spot and isn't able to move another step. He moves his head to the right slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the green grass that should surround the white flower. "The daisy," Jungwoo exclaims in a whisper as there are no white petals of which the colour deviates with the green of the grass.

Geen madeliefje

"y/n," Jungwoo starts anxiously as he placed his hand on your shoulder, the grip barely non-existent as the happiness from before is replaced with a heap of other mixed feelings. He feels sad for you, he truly does, on the other hand, he can't help but feel blank and empty now that there is no flower that grants your wish to find your soulmate.

Your lower lip nearly trembles as you hold it back from parting to yell at the world, yell at Jungwoo for once again saying he saw a daisy while there is no daisy waiting for you. It bothers you more how his warm and comforting hand is placed upon your shoulder.

"Jungwoo," you repeat his name as he said yours, the difference is found in the tone: whereas he sounded anxious, you sound broken. It's a symbolical thing but Jungwoo can almost hear your heart breaking in pieces when you say his name like that, even though, your heart would never react in any form or shape when saying his name.

Your body turns to him, causing his hand to limply drop to where it is supposed to be next to his body. Your eyes are closed but you find the courage to slowly open them to look at Jungwoo, you hope disappointment isn't the blinding emotion in them because you try to keep it hidden.

"It's okay, thank you for trying," You say in a soft tone, curving your lips into a smile but the corners stay as tight at they are now, not even moving the tiniest inch because you keep them in tone. "I'm sorry, I really thought I saw a daisy here," Jungwoo noiselessly admits, his eyes non-stop going between you and the spot where he saw the flower blooming.

You look at him to meet his eyes, knowing you can believe him when he says that, and you want him to know that you believe him but at the same time that you're disappointed in yourself for allowing the situation to get out of hand. The brown eyes seem familiar, a little too familiar as you swear you've been staring into them every time you close your eyes.

Jungwoo tilts his head as you look into his eyes, confused by the sudden change in your non-verbal attitude even though he unknowingly feels the same emotions as you do. The more you stare at him, the further his head tilts as he continues to gaze back.

Something as tiny as a snowflake appears in front of your visions, Jungwoo sees it as it dwindles down in front of your eyes, you can see it peacefully falling from his hair and onto his grey trenchcoat. Your eyes want to shift to the sky but you're stopped by the colour contrast going on in Jungwoo's hair.

White petals elegantly rest on the black strands of hair and a single minuscule daisy is trapped between the locks of his bangs. The white petals contrast against his black hair and the yellow-coloured disk makes the look wholesome. Disbelief spreads through your body, causing your eyes to widen as you try to make sense of the situation.

"There is a daisy in your hair, Jungwoo," you whisper nervously as your fingertip points towards the non-artificial flower in his hair. The sight makes your heart beat faster: a nearly adoring feeling spreading from your heart into your tiniest bloodstream.

You're standing under Jungwoo's birth flower, the Daimyo oak. While you're standing there: you are looking for a daisy to find your soulmate with and Jungwoo is next to you with multiple petals in his hair and one daisy to complete the look.

"In my hair?" Jungwoo asks as he uses his hand to almost comb through his hair, causing a few of the petals to fall from his hair and onto his fabric-covered shoulders. He feels the softness of the petals under his fingertips and can almost feel his quickened heartbeat in the tips of his fingers with each touch he leaves onto the petals.

You don't have to conclude, it's premade and there's only one possibility. Jungwoo is your soulmate.

Saying the words out loud isn't something beefed, by the time the conclusion is given to you, Jungwoo already has a bright smile on his lips. Smiling like a flower receiving a bit of sunlight to grow towards, smiling like a person who just found his soulmate.

His gaze is locked with yours, staring at one another as the droplets of reality sink in. The brief silence that follows is as tender as a rainstorm of daisies.

"It's you," you whisper to break the silence, your eyes endlessly locked on your soulmate who can't help but mirror your actions because he's stunned. A smile breaks through your facial expression as the last sigh finally pushes past your lips.

The flower in your heart was blooming and you could feel the effect it had on you. The person that you had fun with and cried with, the person you motivated into searching for his soulmate. He was your object of affection.

Jungwoo slowly nods even if he is still trying to grasp the situation with both hands, his fingertips slip from reality and dip into the ecru world he unconsciously chose for when Cyan told him to choose a colour. "It's me, " he says in a soft tone, a nervous chuckle slipping from his lips as his ecru world no longer seems divergent from reality.

Under the embrace of the tree, Jungwoo reached his arms out to you and within seconds engulfed you in his arms. His arms felt warm and sincere, feeling the desperation by the strong grip he had on you.

Your eyes were closed, as were Jungwoo's, almost overly used to the vague image of one another. But the heartfelt moment keeps you in reality, the freshly-bloomed love between two soulmates.

"Their desire was silent yet magnificent, like a thousand daisies attuning their faces toward the path of the sun"

「 ᴇᴄʀᴜ # ꜰᴀꜰ0ᴇ6 」

The chorus of your alarm needlessly plays its tune to wake you up, it's only on the bedside table so you have no trouble in reaching out your arm and pressing your index finger onto anything that feels like a phone screen. It's a Sunday morning, a day of only domestic softness and time for loved ones.

"Why did you set your alarm?" You hear the voice next to you question out loud even if it only sounds like a mumble, the slight chilliness makes everything sound louder than it truly is. The sheets even produce slight sounds as Jungwoo turns his body to you, pulling your body against his until there is no space for gaps to breathe. "I have no idea," you mumble in response, your heart relaxing after being awoken by the music.

It's too late to fall into slumber again and you would rather spend your time looking at your soulmate, Kim Jungwoo. You slowly turn your body around until you're facing him and smile once you see his somewhat swollen cheeks from laying on them all night. "Stop."

You let out a small laugh at Jungwoo's simple request for you to stop staring at him, his voice makes it sound effortlessly adorable and from that, you conclude that he must be happy with the specific way of affection you're giving him. Still, you don't follow his request and stare at him for a few seconds longer: giving him your coloured eyes full of admiration and love.

"You're still doing it, flower ~" Jungwoo sings almost impossibly high, his morning voice straining his throat which results in him letting out a small cough. After giving your boyfriend a worried look, you let out a hum as you know you've been caught in the act.

"Gotta admire it before it gets plucked away"

Jungwoo scoffs in response to your words, his fingertips pressing onto your skin like it is a sign that he wouldn't get plucked away and wouldn't let you get plucked from his life either. It's a soft feeling on your warm skin, his fingertips caress protectively. "I won't get plucked away," Jungwoo says to ease your mind a bit from the worries, he can imagine the thoughts that go through your mind on this lovely Sunday morning "but you'll have to water me every day," he whispers against the shell of your ear, hoping to hear you laugh at those words.

It is not the joke that makes you laugh, it is not the dirty undertone of the words, but it is Jungwoo simply being himself that makes the smile return to your lips. Worries fade like the moon does in the sky who temporarily exchanges his position so that the sun can make flowers grow a little more towards the light.

"Was that supposed to sound as dirty as it did?" You ask him as you can finally find the laughter in his words and you seize the opportunity to make this morning a good one. Jungwoo's facial expression deadpans but it's noticeable that he's trying to bite the corners of his lips with the intention keep them on the thin verge of curving upwards. "Nope," he says, his lips pressed together but laughter breaks the non-existent glue between his bottom- and lower- lip.

"I don't believe you, look into my eyes and say again that those words were not meant to sound dirty," you request from him as you get yourself comfortable on the free space of his pillow, making it easier to look into the homely-brown pair of eyes. Which he does: his eyes travel from the exposed skin near your chest, up to your lips and into your eyes. "Those words were not supposed to sound dirty, your interpretation was wrong… but I guess you just think about sex often," he teases.

In disbelief, you playfully roll your eyes at what you've been told about yourself, by none other than your own soulmate. "You think so? I think you should go out for a walk and reflect on who has the dirtiest mind here," you suggest, using the same playfulness from when you rolled your eyes.

Jungwoo's laugh fills the room, ringing decibels louder than your alarm did before you were awake. But the sound is music to your ears: it's the perfect song, played at a loud volume that it deserves to get played on because everyone should hear his laugh. Seconds after he started, his laugh slowly dies down as his lips gaze towards your lips again.

"Maybe it's me," he admits in a serious tone as his lips copy yours unconsciously, making slow movements like yours as you part your lips to respond to his words. His serious tone doesn't make you laugh but it still sounds strangely sincere, perhaps because his mind did shift to a sexier setting once he saw your lips moving like they usually did.

Once you catch up with his newly-found interest for your lips, you also catch up with his confession of why he is the one with the dirtiest mind between the two of you. You become aware of your lips being the centre of attention and play along at the moment by biting the right corner of your lower lip. "I bet it is".

Jungwoo huffs when he realises your teases are not a coincidence, nor an accident. But he's quick-witted and pulls your body on top of his without hesitation: giving you no other option but to once again look into his brown eyes. His expression is unreadable: he doesn't look like he's playing around anymore, but the same softness is still displayed in the depths of his orbs.

He puckers his lips and pouts them upwards, getting more and more desperate until he finally reaches your soft lips with his own. The kiss that he initiates is soft for the first few seconds and he can feel your smiling lips against his out of happiness.

Soon his lips start to move against yours, the kiss getting more heated as you notice his body is yearning for certain touches and that special kind of affection. Energy and excitement mix together and spread through his limbs and even his lips get affected by it: his lips that were moving against yours slowly lower themselves in a trail filled with open-mouthed kisses. He doesn't stop until the moment he kisses the side of your exposed neck, the kisses finally arrived at the planned destination.

The soft breath you let out as reaction only makes Jungwoo press more kisses in your neck, knowing by the reaction that they make your morning a little more pleasurable. His unoccupied hands trail to your hips, keeping you still before you can even start to make slow grinding motions on top of him, his fingertips squeeze your covered skin whilst his imagination starts running wild.

"Is it not too early for this?" you ask soft as your head lulls to one side, allowing his kisses to take up more space and press on the more sensitive spots of your skin. A hum leaves Jungwoo's lips and you feel the vibrations of his hum against your throat "it's never too early for this," he whispers against your skin, placing another kiss down before he pulls away from you.

Jungwoo sits up on his knees and rids himself of his layers of nightwear: the shirt that covers his skin and the pair of sweatpants that hide the hairs on his legs. His boxers are tightly covering the crotch area and it only gets worse as he winds himself up over the thought of your body. Once he's undressed, he gapes at you as you do the same he did seconds ago. Your shirt is discarded and your shorts soon join to coat the floor with a layer of fabric.

"Look at you," he whispers as he smiles at the sight of you bare, it's not just naked, it's bare and outside of that, it's beautiful. More beautiful than watching blooming flowers in the park but he shouldn't pluck petals, he only waters them so that they grow.

After taking in the sight of your body once more, he leans down to your abdomen and runs his fingertips over every little bump of your skin, every soft little patch and every rough one too. When he reaches the waistband of your underwear, he loops his fingers through them and starts to remove them in a teasingly slow manner: first an inch on the left, then only half an inch on the right. The fabric feels smooth as it runs over your legs but it's his fingers that provide warmth.

Your underwear soon joins the little heap of discarded clothes on the floor, you opt to look at where it lands out of habit but Jungwoo pays no attention to the piece of clothing.

Unlike your previous position, Jungwoo now hovers over you instead. His lips press kisses over every spot of your skin: what you expected to be a heated moment of not-so-delicate touches ends up being a moment where his lips caress over your skin with adoration.

"I love you so much," he whispers to you, his lips pressing against your earlobe to give a tiny kiss there before his loving path continues down your body. Your response follows minutes later when his lips have almost reached the lower part of your stomach but you're simply in bliss due to these soft petal-like kisses. "I love you too," you whisper back to him, sucking in some fresh air but it results in your mouth allowing a quiet moan to slip out.

The way his soft lips press kisses against your sensitive skin makes the moment last longer, it makes you more impatient for more but you're enjoying the slow pace towards a possible love-filled morning. His lips press together on the smooth path of your inner thigh: giving both sides an equal amount of kisses but teasingly kisses towards your sensitive areas more.

"I want to make love to you," Jungwoo mumbles against your smooth skin, his warm breathing reflecting on his cheeks that start to feel slightly damp but he doesn't care. "Can I?"

Luckily he looks up at you when he's asking the question, he sees you nod almost right after he says the words. A smile changes his current appearance and he looks even softer than he did a few minutes ago, you wonder how it's even possible that he looks even more soft and loving.

"Yes?" he asks as you don't reply to his words by actually saying something, even if he is content with the nod, he still wants to hear your voice and have your consent. "Yes," you breathe out, repeating his words without the questioning hue.

He sits up slightly, straightening his back as he is admiring you for a few seconds. His impatient hand runs over the many spots that have been touched by his lips before, it's a teasing trail full of little twists and minimal touches that leave you wanting more. His index finger reaches the most anticipated spot once his trail has been hiked.

"Sex is the seed and love is the flower"

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Jungwoo hides your hand together with his in the sleeves of his trenchcoat, even though the warmth is provided by the sun, you feel more warmth from his - unnecessary - gesture.

The colour palette that is used to create the scenery of the park comes into view, and you can't help but smile as if you're seeing it for the first time in your life. It's like an ancient painting in a museum, you have seen it on the internet but never in real life, but in reality, it's just been long enough for you to forget the many shades of nature.

Almost six months ago, this would have looked like the stereotypical scenery but minds change, and views change too. From afar you can see the green grass and some white collectables of which you know that they are daisies, they fill the grass like butterflies fill your stomach each time you look at Jungwoo.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Jungwoo asks as he notices the smile on your lips and the way your eyes are trying to catch a glimpse of the park that suddenly isn't as far away anymore. He knows why you smile, but he still asks because he is delighted to hear the story being told from scratch. The story is the book his soulmate picked out for him and his heart willingly read every page.

"Because the park," you respond to him as your eyes shortly move to him but you don't want to lose sight of the real-life painting in front of you, you don't want it to get plucked away. Jungwoo looks away from you to look at the same piece of art, getting lost in the familiarity that sparks a collectibles in his mind.  

The world seems strangely different, the painting seems strangely different despite its familiar setting. The only thing that stays the same is the love between you and Jungwoo as you walk hand-in-hand towards the park. It's only a few seconds away, ten to be exact, nine if you pick up the pace a bit.

Jungwoo's feet halt before he's about to step on the grass field, not because it's something not everyone appreciates, but because his eyes observe why the world seems strangely different. You don't seem to notice yet, your sight is blinded by the colour ecru and you're not aware that the effect might wear off soon.

"y/n"

Your attention goes to your boyfriend again, the scenery that you've been vaguely looking at is replaced by the sight of two very surprised eyes. You hum in response as you continue to look at him, not questioning his look until he mentions it himself, which you're positive of that he will.

"W-where's the oak?" He asks as he looks at you before his eyes drift back to the missing piece of nature in the center of the park, he can see the tree in his imagination but notices its absence when he dips into the river of real life. He thickly swallows even though his throat is waterless.

Your head moves a few degrees to the right as you can only look at your boyfriend, "huh," you ask him as you eye him with your confused orbs.

"The oak," Jungwoo says in a more steady tone even though he has to keep himself steady, for some reason his long legs seem ready to give out any second. His hand untangles itself from yours to point towards the place where he met his soulmate, under a tree that was no longer there, but he was, and you were too.

Your eyes follow his fingertip until you can't see his finger in your eye-width anymore. The greenery of the park doesn't state it but your eyes officially discover the absence of the familiar oak: Jungwoo's birth tree, the tree where you found your soulmate under, the tree where daisies dwindled upon your shoulders once Jungwoo leaned towards you to hold you for the first time.

The memories are close in your embrace but you're no longer held by the tree that made all of those memories possible.  You lower your head, noticing the vague image of little daisies that are spread out all over the field, endlessly gracing every few inches with their appearance.

"Did it get plucked away?" Jungwoo asks soft as his voice almost stops cooperating, he's filled with confusion and emotions, his mind going over at least ninety-nine scenarios and he loses you in every single one of them. His hand is close to yours and he takes the opportunity to hold you tight before - just like the four daisies, and the oak - you get plucked away.

From the uninhabited space in the park, your eyes go to the movements on the little pathway of the park. A pair of unsteady footsteps shuffle over the stone-filled ground but they come to an abrupt stop when she bumps into a young man: as she stumbles back a notch, a smile coats her lips. As the young man helps her by placing his hand on her upper arm, you can see the bright colour of her eyes. Cyan, that's the exact term to the colour of her intoxicating eyes.

"Pick a colour," you read the words that fall from her lips and you can't help but mouth them in relay one second after she does. It's a familiar phrase and you even taste the remains of the colour you picked on your lips: it's a soft shade with a not-so-matching name.

Ecru.

The word effortlessly brings a smile to your lips: it's the colour of your soul and the colour of Jungwoo's love for you. Ecru: ecru was the colour of your world, ecru was atmosphere, ecru was the little steps on your path, ecru were tears when the path was unreadable. Ecru was and is magic.

"I don't think it did," you finally respond to Jungwoo has been looking at you until the answer fell from your lips. Your lips press a small peck onto his to ease his nerves. "We just planted the seed elsewhere, and it's blooming right now."

A U T H O R S N O T E / I N S P O 

hello, little daisies. With this, you must have reached the end of “colourized ecru,” it’s been an honor writing this. I know it’s not the best writing, not the best fic, or anything but I feel happy that I was able to finish this. For the longest time I put off writing this, even to the point where I wanted to tell the other writers that I wasn’t going to go through with the collab. But I did start writing and neatly finished the fic the day before it’s due. Thank you for reading, thank you for existing 

Inspo [music] - winner, remember ; d.o, that’s okay ; yesung, here i am ; yesung, paper umbrella (jungwoo acts in this mv if you didn’t know) ;  lee taeil ; one man (cover and yes I love taeil y’all know) ;  . . .

love, ambrosia aka moondustaeil  🌼

[moondustis]

love is not just a verb (m)

pairing: mark lee + reader genre: fluff, smut | word count: 3k summary: Fridays meant that the boy that had the butterflies in your stomach absolutely going crazy would be waiting outside for you, and you would finally be in his arms as soon as the teacher dismissed the class. 

College had a way of getting to you. The pounding headache and too stressed to function kind of way.

It’s not that you didn’t like your major or your classes, you loved them very much and each day you fell a little more interested on the subject you had decided to study. But it had been a long week, filled with too many assignments and a bad grade on a essay you thought you would do well, so your patience was running low.

And to make things even worse, it was a debate day. See, foreign affairs was a cool major and you were passionate about it, had chosen it for a reason after all, but debate days were just a completely different story. You had experienced a few on high school, but it didn’t come close to the complete chaos that happened when you put together a bunch of conceited college kids that thought they knew a lot about everything.

You watch with a scowl as the representative for China slams their hand on the desk and screams about how the girl that’s representing USA doesn’t know anything and should just shut up already. And that’s just a tame bit, you had heard far worst curses and offenses when the debate just got a little overheated, because if there was something your classmates didn't enjoy, was being wrong.

But none of that even mattered anymore because it was a friday and almost time for the class to be over. And fridays meant that the boy that had the butterflies in your stomach absolutely going crazy would be waiting outside for you, and you would finally be in his arms as soon as the teacher dismissed the class.

You had met Mark Lee two years ago, on freshman year. He was friends with Donghyuck, who was friends with Jungwoo, who happened to be your best friend and in the end it was probably meant to happen, because you kept seeing him at parties and sometimes at the library, with his cute eyes and even cuter laughter.

And bless the day Jungwoo had invited you to study together with some friends, including the one and only. You didn’t even care that you had accidentally spilled juice all over his unfinished paper, because that prompted your first actual conversation and well, the rest was history.

So you watched as the clock ticks too slowly, the heels you had to wear for this hurting just as much as the headache you had going on.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

And finally, you let out a deep alleviated sigh as the teacher tries to contains the class to wrap things up, but you don’t even bother to stay for that. Grabbing your things you practically bolt out the classroom, opening the door with eyes immediately searching for him.

You find him by the drinking fountain, looking at his phone with eyebrows furrowed and you swear your heart does somersaults in your chest by how cute he looks with round glasses and plaid shirt, a certain smile forming on your lips at the sight.

You basically skip on your way to him, his eyes as if on cue moving from the phone to find yours and he immediately mirrors your smile, locking his phone and putting it on his pocket.

“Hey, pretty girl.” He says when you stop just in front of him, scrunching your nose at the silly pet name before you press a quick kiss on his lips. “Another one, please.”

You grant his wishes, a hum forming in his throat as he thanks you with a small chuckle.

“Ugh, I’m so tired.” You mumble when he takes hold of your hand and the two of you start walking.

“How did the debate go?” The question is more out of his interest on the latest gossip then to know the reason behind your tiredness.

“God, a mess as usual.” He moves your arms a little as you talk. The day outside is still pretty, the sun of a late afternoon giving you exactly what you needed after a long week. “This girl called another one a dumb piece of shit and said she should just go back to her mother’s house and become a trust fund baby.”

He laughs loudly and it’s so contagious that you laugh too. “Oh my god, people really get crazy on those. Was it the same girl that cried last time?”

“Nope, that girl wasn’t even there today. I think she got traumatized.”

“Man, that’s crazy. I wish I could watch one someday.” He seems talkative today, as if sensing that you don't feel like doing it much yourself. “Oh, but good news. Hyuck is gone for the weekend so we’ll have the apartment to ourselves.”

You turn a little to look at him with excitement painted across your feature, letting him lead the way as you walk mostly blindly. “Really?”

It wasn’t that you disliked Donghyuck, but he had no sense sometimes, always trying to sneak into your movie nights with your boyfriend. And there was just something about having to kiss quietly because there was someone sleeping on the other side of the room that bothered you to no end.

“Yup, we can be as noisy as we want.” He teases and you only lead it on by raising your eyebrow suggestively.

“I’ll hold you to it, Mark Lee.”

-

You sigh a little bit too exaggeratedly when you finally remove your heels, the satisfaction of finally stepping on the cold floor with bare feet almost sending shivers down your body.

Mark chuckles as he locks the door, then leans down to remove his own sneakers. “Want me to massage your feet later?” He asks and you coo.

“Such a good boyfriend, you are.”

A kiss to your lips. “Only the best for my queen.” It was something that became an habit for the both of you, to joke about corny couple things because it made both of you cringe, but it had been ongoing for so long that sometimes it came naturally.

Snickering you make your way to the living room, stretching your arms above your head and resisting the urge to just plop down on the couch in the middle of it. Mark shared a small two bedroom apartment with Donghyuck and it was what you would think a place shared by two college male students to be like. But today it was neater than usual, meaning he probably cleaned for your visit.

“Can I borrow a t-shirt?” You ask as he walks into the kitchen, a counter separating the two of you. “These clothes are not comfy.”

He just hums, going through the cabinets looking for something. probably dinner.

In his room, you remove the outfit you always had to wear for special matters, such as debates, that consisted of a button up and a pencil skirt and it made you feel like a business woman, but it was far too uncomfortable. You fold it neatly on the chair he used as a rack, your bra coming after and making you sigh again at the heavenly feeling of finally letting your boobs rest.

“Do you want ramen for dinner?” He asks from the kitchen, a bit loudly so you would hear.

He was far from a great cook, but ramen was something he knew how to do well. “Yes, please.” You reply, sounds of pots clinking together following right after.

Digging through the very unsettling and messy wardrobe Mark kept, you look around for something to wear and settle on a sweatshirt with the words AMOUR on it. It’s comfy and runs a little big even on himself, so it covers enough to make it decent for you to walk around in just it and panties. Not that Mark would care otherwise.

When you walk into the kitchen he’s about to put the raw ramen on the boiling water, sneaking a glance at you and smiling. “Looking cute.”

You look down in a fake bashful way, playing with the hem of the sweatshirt to emphasize. ”Thank you, baby.”

He mutters a little ‘so silly’ as you hug him from behind, basking in the scent that was imprinted on your mind by now, something that was very close to clothes softener and the perfume he used. “Think we can finish Itaewon Class today?” His chest moves a little where you have your hand folded on it as he speaks.

“If someone doesn’t fall asleep.”

He snorts, the sound of boiling water filling the room as you keep your head pressed on his back. “Please, we both know that someone will be you.”

In your defense you had been very tired the five times it happened. “I won’t today, promise.”

“Uh-hum.” It’s obvious that he doesn’t trust you one bit.

When the ramen is ready you eat it in the couch while watching the drama you both had been addicted to and trying to finish for weeks now. It’s nice, something you had been waiting for all week and you feel a weight leave your body when the ramen is finally over and you can lean into Mark’s chest as he cuddles you. The sky starts to turn pink and orange outside and you couldn’t feel more content.

—

You wake up surrounded by warmth and it takes you a few seconds to realize that you’re not in the living room anymore, instead you’re squeezed in Mark’s tiny bed with your body feeling lethargic from your nap. Blinking your eyes open you are met with darkness, the only lights coming from his phone and the lamp he kept on the bedside table.

“W-What time is it?” Your voice is hoarse and it makes him chuckle.

“It’s almost nine, miss ‘I won’t fall asleep this time.”

“Sorry, I was tired.” You mumble out, groaning when you move to drape your arm on his torso in an attempt to hug him closer. It was a really tiny bed, so being this close was a necessity.

‘Mhm, M just teasing, baby.” He pats your head gently and you almost fall asleep again from how warm you feel and how soothing the slow rise and fall of his chest is. But the thought of finally being alone in his dorm is present on the back of your head, so you try your best to keep your eyes open.

Wiggling around a little you try to get his attention but he just continues patting your head, focus on his phone as soft guitar sounds come from it. “What are you watching?”

He turns the screen so you can see it, a man playing a guitar just as you thought. “He’s teaching that song I talked about.” He talked about a lot of songs so you just hum, letting him finish his video and making do with the hair stroking he will give you for now.

It’s really hard not falling asleep with the soft song but you manage and after some time he finally locks his phone and places it on the side, finally giving you the attention you deserve.

You hum pleased when he turns to cuddle you into his chest, surrounding you by his scent and body heat. It’s a place you think you would happily live forever in. “Hmm, really nice.”

He laughs a little, pressing you closer and that’s when you feel it. His hips press to yours and there, almost against your center, you can feel what is unmistakably his hardness and if you weren’t so lazy you would have reacted with a little more enthusiasm. Instead what you say is “Are you hard right now?”

He probably blushes but you can’t see it. “Yeah.” He exhales because there’s no point in hiding it.

“Why?”

Groaning, he hugs you tighter. “I don’t know. It felt good to have you pressed against me, I guess.”

Your turn to chuckle now. “You’re such a sap.” And then “But I think I’m a little horny too.”

It was just a small feeling in the pit of your stomach, but still it was there. That’s what being in bed with your hot boyfriend did, you guess and the way he felt against you helped.

“Yeah?” He asks in a whisper, turning to hover over you. There’s no seductiveness in his tone, just the genuine interest in his girlfriend being horny and the proposition of sex.

You hum, arms sliding to his neck so you can finally kiss him. It starts with just the press of your lips together, moving in a pace that suits the moment, but when his bottom lip fits between yours, you suck on it lightly, before you’re giving it a kittenish lick that is just enough to have him parting his lips.

His tongue slides against yours in languid motions, the taste that had become so familiar filling your senses and that would be enough by itself but he’s too eager. The hand he slides down to rest on your waist sends shivers down your body that are increased infinitely when his hips are pressing down to yours.

The thought of him hard underneath the low sweatpants he has on makes your mouth almost water, a moan escaping it and he seems to mimic the sensation.

It’s suddenly too hot in the room so you take your sweater off, throwing it somewhere in the room as he groans at the sight of your naked chest. “Fuck, I’m so hard right now.” You almost tease about how you can feel it,  but he busies your mind by moving his head down and pressing open mouthed kisses all over your chest, free hand squeezing a boob softly, because he knew how sensitive you were, and his tongue darting out to flick at your nipple before he’s sucking on it.

“Mark, oh my god.” You breath out a moan, back arching a bit from the bed and he just urges you on by slowly moving his hand down until he’s where you crave him the most.

His hand dips inside the cotton panties you had on, two fingers going to your entrance and dipping inside. “Wet already?” He says around a pleased smile.

“S-Shut up, you got hard from cuddling.” And he just chuckles, fingers sliding up again so he can press them to your clit in a way that makes you part your lips a little in a silent moan.

“No, I got hard because you’re hot.”

You huff as he gives the first roll of his fingers. “Ah — Yeah, right.”

“It’s true.” Bringing his face to level with yours again he presses a kiss to your lips. “You’re so fucking hot, baby. Kinda drives me crazy.”

And he kisses you like he means it, your tongues lazily gliding as he flicks on your clit with the sole purpose of driving you mad, even more when he dips one finger inside, then two, curling them up as he opens you up for what you really want.

The warmth in you lower belly just gets more and more intense, your hands grabbing at his nape. “I’m ready, please, just fuck me.” You gasp around his mouth at a purposeful press of his fingers.

His movements stop, hand blindly opening the drawer in his bedside table in search for what you hope is a condom. “God, since you asked so nicely.”

He lets out a relieved breath when he finally finds it, pushing the sweatpants down along his boxers with your help and the sight of his erection in his closed fist makes you clench around nothing. “Here. Let me.” You offer, taking the condom package from his free hand and opening it with ease. “Let me do it.”

He drops his hand so you can roll it down on his length, a hiss on his lips as he uses the moment to slide his t-shirt off. “Y-You look good with my dick on your hand.”

That makes you chuckle but both of you know there’s a blush on your cheeks. “Will look better with it inside me.” And that’s what it takes from his to slide his hands to your thighs, parting them so he can fit in between and at the feeling of him sliding against your wet folds you bite your lips.

It’s always an overwhelming feeling when he gets inside of you. Not too big that you can’t take it, but enough to leave you with the feeling of being full that you love. “Shit baby, I really—” He murmurs when he finally thrusts all the way inside, your nails marking his back in your state of pleasure “really love your pussy.”

The things he said were enough to make you feel a wave of the feeling you were chasing wash over your body. “Then fuck me.” You exhale, because two could play a game. “I want you so bad.”

And he gives it to you, with slow snaps of his hips that feel just a little calculated but much more messy, like he can’t really control himself. And you love it, feel him hitting deep inside of you with each thrust and when he’s finally able to hit the one spot that has you seeing stars, you cry out his name.

“T-There? ”His hips punctuate the words and all you can do is moan quietly as he fucks into you. You watch through hooded eyes as he brings his thumb to his lips, wetting it before pressing it in your clit.

It doesn’t take you long to come with the way his hips move against yours and with the fast circling of his thumb on your clit. “Ah, Mark. I — I’m — Fuck.” The last words is elongated as your orgasms crashes down on you, your entire body tingling and back arching from the bed.

He continues thrusting into you, movements faltering from how you clench around his dick as wave after wave of arousal makes your body shake in his hold. “Shit, shit. You feel so fucking—” A pained groan leaves his lips accompanied by a wet gasp “Ah, so fucking good. Think about fucking you all the time.”

His confession only makes you clench harder and that’s what it takes for a deep moan to come out of his chest, hips faltering as his cock pulses inside of you and he empties himself inside of the condom.

With his head dropping to your shoulder he tries to calm his breathing down as you run your hands soothingly on his back. He always got too cuddly after sex, so when he slips out of you with a hiss, throwing the condom out and tucking himself back into his pants, you’re already waiting with arms open for him to plop down his head on your chest with a huff.

Your hand slides to his head so you can stroke his hair and he almost purrs, pressing a kiss to the underside of your boob. “Think I’m getting hungry again.” He mutters absently.

“Me too. Maybe we can order pizza.”

You feel his smile pressed against your chest. “Love you.”

And that's when you love to hear it the most, when it's just the two of you and the world outside feels very far away. "Love you too, Markie."

[the-iceni-bitch]

My Fire was Fate With You

Vices Assemble: Part VI/?

Pairing: warlord!Carol Danvers x fem!reader

Words: ~2.1k

Summary: Carol really needs you while she deals with another thief problem.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (vaginal fingering, f receiving oral sex, public sex, exhibitionism, mentions of penetrative sex with a toy), slightly above canon level violence, these two are very into their wealth but it’s a little endearing, some gore, marijuana use, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: It has been so long since I’ve done this series but I’m back!! I will admit that Carol and her little art smuggler GF are the hardest for me to write for in this universe, primarily because I love them and don’t want to add a bunch of conflict into their lives, while that is not the case with our other relationships. But now I’ve got a whole arc planned so we’ll see if I can update this more often 🤞🏻

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications

Carol rubbed her fingers against her temple as she listened to Yon prattle on, already sick of listening to him. It was painfully obvious this asshole thought he could coast by on his good looks and charm, never mind that he was shit at his job.

Maria was giving her a sympathetic and annoyed look from where she was leaning against the wall, rolling her eyes when he implied that he was the only one who could handle the dock shipments now that she was expanding into more markets. God what an ass.

All she wanted was to see you. Sometimes she hated having to do this shit, as much as she loved the money and being able to spoil you like you fucking deserved. But dealing with all the chauvinist assholes who thought they could do a better job, or called her sweetheart like she was a stupid child even when she was the one with the fucking connections and ambition to actually get this shit done, well, it just made her want to shoot something.

The dumbass was trying to tell her that she needed to relax about all her security concerns when there was a small commotion from the door, a smile spreading over Carol’s face when you slammed it open and gave a disbelieving smirk over your shoulder as you finished rolling a beautiful looking joint.

“What the fuck is up with that new moron?” You didn’t even look at Yon as you walked to Carol’s desk, giving Maria a wink and a grin before sitting in front of Carol and handing her the joint while you pulled out your lighter. “Said this was a business meeting and that you didn’t have time to deal with me and my sweet little pussy.”

“I’m sorry, what the fuck did your man say to my fiancée?” Carol frowned over your shoulder at Yon as she traced her fingers over your thigh, trying not to smile at the sudden look of discomfort that came over his face.

“First off, you do not get to call me your fiancée until you actually get me a fucking ring, and do the Pinterest proposal.” You took the joint back from her after she took a pull, resting your foot on the arm of her chair and purring when she pressed her lips to the inside of your knee. “Second, don’t have to worry about that asshole mouthing off again for a while. Think he’s gonna be nursing his balls for a bit.”

“Alright, who is this… person?” You snorted at Yon obviously struggling to not call you a bitch, spreading your legs wider and tucking the joint between your teeth with a sigh when Carol brushed her fingers over the soft lace of your panties. “And why does she think she’s allowed to discipline my men?”

“Yes I suppose I should introduce you.” Carol bit softly at the inside of your thigh as she dipped her fingers under your panties, drawing them slowly over your slit until they were coated in your slit then swirling them over your clit as you hummed softly. “Yon, this is Y/N, Y/N, Yon.”

“Ah, the thief, right?” You grinned when he spluttered with rage at the accusation, biting your lip when Carol finally slid a finger inside you after being a fucking tease for so long. “Shit, did I get ahead of you, baby?”

“You did, but that’s fine.” Carol leaned back in her chair as she kept curling her middle finger inside you, flicking your clit with her thumb and crossing her own legs as she moved her gaze back to Yon with annoyance. “Was getting sick of his talking anyway. You wanna tell me why none of your numbers line up, Yon?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He shifted in his seat as he glared at the two of you, trying not to get distracted by the way you started rolling your hips into Carol’s hand when she slid in a second finger.

“I’m talking about why you’re showing each of the shipments that you’ve supervised coming in as being short, but you’re still trying to get money from me for the full haul. Right there, baby?” She gave you a wicked grin when you dropped your head back and whined, lewd wet squelches filling the office as she started stroking your sweet spot furiously. “And somehow, suddenly able to buy yourself a fucking Ferrari. So please, explain.”

The moron tried to stammer out some half assed explanation as Carol bent forward to lick your pussy, swirling her tongue around your clit until she felt you throb against her face then pressing a filthy kiss to your swollen bud. You moaned when she sucked it into her mouth, letting your legs fall open even further when she slid in a third ringed finger and started fucking you with her hand at the same time.

“So you see, it’s really nothing.” That smarmy asshole was grinning like he thought he was going to get away with it, at least until Maria came over and slapped the photos on the desk in front of him.

“So that’s not you meeting with some New York asshole last week?” She only disconnected from you for a second then dove right back in, curling her fingers inside you and sucking hard until your whole body vibrated as you let out a sharp gasp. “That’s a good girl, mmm, you needed it, huh baby?”

“Always do.” You winked at her when she gave your pussy one more kiss, blowing out the last drag of the joint before tamping it out as she turned her full attention back to the dumbass who was looking like he was thinking of doing something stupid.

“I’m waiting, Yon.” Carol rested her ringed fingers on your thigh as she cocked her head at him, tapping her fingers with irritation while you nudged her knee with the toe of your pump.

“Fucking upjumped cunt, I don’t have to put up with this shit.” He reached under his jacket and pulled out his .38.

Carol just frowned when he pointed the weapon at her, shaking her head when Maria moved like she was going to intervene. You just rolled your eyes and grabbed the letter opener, stabbing it right through the hand that was holding the gun until he let out a shocked scream.

“Quit playing with him Carol.” You shook your head at her when she laughed softly, grabbing the revolver and tossing it away as you scowled half heartedly. “I’ve got plans for us, baby, you’ve been doing this for so long.”

“Alright, can’t say no to you, pretty girl.” She gave you a quick kiss when you curled over her, turning a tired frown back to Yon as he shivered with rage and glared between her and the blade stuck through his hand. “Well, I did think about potentially letting you off easy if you were willing to talk, but then you had to call me a cunt and pull a fucking gun and well…”

She pulled out her Desert Eagle and leveled it at his head, giving him a second to try to blurt out a plea before she pulled the trigger. You swore when the body slumped forward onto the desk, jumping off and staring daggers at your girlfriend as you took in the blood that was splattered all over your dress.

“Goddamn it Carol, this is Tom Ford!” You batted her away when she tried to soothe you, ignoring her shit eating grin and huffing indignantly while Monica made the call for a clean up crew. “What have I told you about head shots when I’m that close? I have nice shit, I don’t want to have to keep replacing it just because you have a hard on for exploding skulls.”

“Baby, I’m sorry.” She finally managed to trap your wrists and pulled you close as she stood up, pressing her lips to your cheek as you pouted. “What if I buy you that Versace you’ve been eyeing to make up for it? I just want you to be pretty, sweet girl.”

“The Versace and the Monique Lhullier.” You let her give you a peck on the lips as she nodded grudgingly, twirling your fingers through hers before pulling back and grinning. “Fine, I forgive you. I’m gonna go change while you take care of this. Meet me back at the house in ninety minutes. Any later and I’m gonna be pissed.”

She just waved at you as you sauntered out of her office, trying not to look too moony eyed after you before she turned back to Maria, who was giving her a very indulgent smirk.

“What?” She smiled back at Maria as the two of them moved to find a tarp. “Did you book the Plaza for us this weekend?”

“Yeah. You sure you want to do it in Manhattan?”

“It’s her hometown.” Carol shrugged when they started rolling up the body. “Wanna make sure it’s special.”

She managed to make it home in the allotted time, slightly exhausted from having to deal with the cleaners but ready to relax. Hopefully you were just wanting to stay in tonight, she didn’t think she had the energy to go anywhere.

“Baby?” The house was a little dark when she walked in, frowning a little and checking her watch to make sure she hadn’t gotten her timing wrong. “Where are you?”

“On the terrace.”

You didn’t sound upset, which was good. All she wanted was to order in and snuggle with you for the rest of the night. She was so over dealing with these assholes who thought they could walk all over her, maybe she would take Thor and the Brooklyn boys up on their offer for more muscle, though that could possibly end up compounding the problem.

When she walked onto the terrace she froze. It was covered in candles and orchids, the sunset streaking the sky in beautiful pinks and oranges as you lounged on the chaise and grinned wickedly at her.

“Hi baby.” You set a small velvet Bvlgari box on the table in front of you and she let out a deep sigh. “I told you, Pinterest proposal.”

“Christ.” She ran a hand over her face and grinned at you. “How long have you been planning this?”

“Like a week.” You shrugged as she walked closer to you, popping the box open and grinning even wider when she cursed at the sight of the Serpenti ring. “Just had to work out a good time to nick this.”

“Oh my god, of course you stole it.” She laughed and grabbed the ring from you, peppering kisses all over your face before sliding it onto her left ring finger. “Guess we can’t Gram this, then.”

“Nope, but look how good it looks on you.” You frowned when she got up and started walking back into the house. “Danvers? What the fuck are you doing?”

“One second!” When she came back she was holding a velvet box of her own, plopping next to you on the lounge and laughing when you snatched it out of her hand with a squeal. “You ruined my surprise, I booked the Plaza and everything.”

“Damn, well we can still go to New York, it’s been so long.” You opened the box and squeaked again, popping the yellow diamond on your finger and cooing. “Eight fucking carats, good job baby.”

“So, can I call you my fiancée now?” She nuzzled into your throat and purred, smiling when you tangled your fingers through her hair and wrapped yourself around her.

“You sure can.” You hummed when she nipped at your jaw, rolling your body under her as she started drawing your skirt over your hips. “Wait, Carol, I got the special double sided cock out to celebrate. We should go to the bedroom.”

“In a minute.” She brought her face back up and rested her forehead against yours. “First, I’m gonna drown in my fiancée’s sweet little pussy.”

“Yeah, ok.” You beamed when she started kissing her way down your chest. “Fiancée.”

[tomtenadia]

Island Dreams - Chapter 17

Chapter 17 for you all.

It's finally moving in day and they have some fun and their relationships takes another step forward.

Rowan gets into an accident and he finds himself married :)

I hope you will enjoy this.

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

Moving day had arrived and gone. Aelin had been sad about leaving her house but the idea of living with Rowan was far more exciting. In the end they did manage to move everything on the Saturday. After Lysandra had gone back to London, Aelin had asked her to ship all of her boxes there and that felt like the final step. She was definitely not going back. This was it. This was her new life. Hopefully with Rowan in it. Moving boxed had been exhausting and now it was Sunday and she was staring at the mess that was her bedroom and was trying to decide where to start to tackle the indecent amount of boxes.

Luckily Rowan had solved the book problem for her. Her thirty five boxes of books had joined his extra book storage in the attic. He had joked that he might eventually turn the place in a library and Aelin had responded telling him that it was a brilliant idea. She was busy unpacking her clothes when Rowan’s head popped in her room announcing that lunch was ready. “You are wonderful.” She joined him in the kitchen isle and was ready to tuck in in another one of his wonderful meals. “Did your aunt teach you to cook?” “She did.” He answered without elaborating any further. He had briefly mentioned once that he had lost his parents but never expanded on the subject and she was not going to press him on a topic that was clearly going to cause him pain. She ate the food with a happy face and Rowan thought he would be happy to cook for her forever just to watch the smile of satisfaction painted on her face. After they polished their meal, Aelin offered to help clean. It seemed only fair. Once done she went back to her room and deal with the boxes that were still staring at her. All of her clothes were spread on the bed and she was trying to divide them into categories. At the bottom of a box she had also found a couple of her old scrubs and nostalgia had hit her hard. One box was full of knick knacks and she pushed it aside. Definitely low priority. One last box had pictures frames to be hanged on the walls. Most of them were of her and Lysandra but at the bottom she had found one of her and Chaol that had survived the purge. She threw the thing on the bed and went back to her mission: organise her wardrobe. A few hours later she was half way through her boxes and she had not noticed Rowan leaning against the door staring at her with a half smile. Aelin was sitting on the floor and seemed defeated. “Unpacking not going well?” “I hate it. I never realised how much stuff I had. When I packed everything I had Aedion and Lysandra and all we did was just dump stuff in boxes. They were trying to get me out of that house as soon as possible. Rowan sat on the edge of the bed. His eyes caught the photo abandoned on it. He took it “Is this him?” “We took that the night we got engaged. I have scrubs on because he proposed at the hospital where we met. That photo survived the purge. It needs to be destroyed.” Rowan noticed the pain in her eyes. No matter how much she hated her ex husband, he could tell that whatever they had it had mattered to her and she was still hurting about it. He put the photo down and noticed a black dress. He leaned forward and grabbed it out of curiosity. “I bought for a charity event. Wore it once and never had the chance to use it again.” She explained when she saw him staring at it in curiosity. In reality Rowan was imagining her in that dress. All of a sudden he was glad he was sitting down. Aelin saw his stare and grabbed the dress from his hands, a wicked smile on her face “Stay there,” she told him, leaving him alone in the bedroom. When she came back ten minutes later Rowan noticed her and almost had a heart attack. She was stunning. The dress hugged her curves perfectly, it had a cut on one side exposing her leg up to the knee. It was sleeveless and the top of the corset reached just under her collarbone. She turned around and showed him the whole thing and Aelin noticed desire burning in his eyes. “What do you think?” He took a step to her and his hands were on her waist “That I don’t want you to wear this dress outside. I want this view all for myself.” His voice was rough and a bit breathless. Aelin laughed and kissed him and Rowan pushed her against the wardrobe and pinned her there. Her hands went to his butt and pushed him closer to her body. His hand sneaked through the cut of the dress and cupped her butt and gasped when he realised she was not wearing anything underneath. “You will be the death of me.” He breathed against her neck where he was depositing hot kisses making her shiver. “Against a wall is another one of my fantasies…” she whispered in his ear and she felt his hand move in between her legs. “Good.” He added locking his mouth on her “it’s another one of my special skills.” Rowan deepened the kiss, her mouth opening to him. Her tongue gently brushing against his. His fingers slipped between her legs and gently brushed her sensitive spot. Aelin moaned and arched her back against him. Then all of a sudden the magic broke as he pulled away from her, kissed her forehead and walked away. Aelin’s growl of frustration was loud “Whitethorn!” Aelin shouted following to the living room “You can’t.” She groaned, frustration now rising high. What was his problem? “You always do that, you tease me, you get me all hot and then you leave.” Rowan gave her a tight smile and took a step closer, his mouth to her ear “So that when I can finally have you it will be amazing.” “And very short.” She lashed back “Because I will be so horny that I will have an orgasm at your first touch and it will last seconds.” Her eyes now fixed on his. “Who said that we can’t have a second a third and why not a fourth time? I have stamina.” Aelin growled and ran back to her room and slammed the door quite hard. She groaned for another few minutes while she changed back in her comfortable clothes. “Damn he is infuriating.” She threw the dress in one of the drawers and lay down on the bed staring at the ceiling. She wanted him so badly that she was sure she was going to combust very soon. She took a deep breath and then got up again and finished to tidy up everything. An hour later the boxes were finally gone and she had finished decorating it with her stuff and the pictures and eventually it started to feel like her place. She looked at the place and smiled happily at the final job. She picked up the flattened boxes and left the room. Rowan was in the living room reading a book on the sofa and she ignored him as she passed behind him and headed outside to bin the boxes. When she came back Rowan was looking at her. “All done?” She stormed to her bedroom and slammed the door again. Later on when she was sitting on her bed reading, she heard a knock on the door and Rowan’s voice telling her that dinner was ready. She gave in and joined him in the kitchen not without giving him a cold stare. “I am sorry,” he said. She sighed “it’s okay.” He gave offered her a plate with some food “I didn’t mean to piss you off this much.” “I am not.” He scoffed “Yes, you are.” She slammed the fork on the table “Fine. I am. I am, because damn it but I want you, okay? It’s been driving me nuts.” She finally let out her frustration “And I get it, we have a promise and I will wait but this is new. Chaol never made me feel like this. None of the guys before him did. You do. You set my body on fire with just a touch and all I want is for you to slam me against a wall and fuck me so hard that I forget my name.” “I am really good at that…” he smirked and Aelin’s heart lightened. She could not be mad at him. Not when he smiled at her like that. “Someone has a high opinion of himself.” “I definitely can make you forget your name. To be honest, I am positive I can do that just with a kiss.” He kept eating never averting his gaze from her. “You can do that by just be beside me sometimes.” She admitted. That’s how mad about him she was. “Dinner is lovely, by the way. Thank you.” She finally conceded. He smiled at her warmly. And like that their little fight was over. “So, what do you do in the evening?” “Read mostly. As you can see I don’t have a tv.” “I have a laptop with Netflix.” Explained Aelin and he looked at her with confusion. “Netflix is a website where you can watch movies and series. I pay a small amount every month. They add loads of content very regularly.” She took a bite of the chocolate cake she was sure came from his aunt. “We can watch something together.” “I guess we can do that.” “Perfect.”

After dinner Aelin had offered to clean up the kitchen since he had cooked. Once she was done she joined him in the living room and brought her laptop with her. She sat beside him, a blanket on their legs and the pc on it. She snuggled close and started browsing Netflix. “We can watch Brooklyn nine nine. It’s one of my favourites. It’s a bunch of detectives in New York. It’s hilarious but has some great storylines as well.” “We can watch something new. You don’t have to rewatch it just for me.” Aelin turned to him “I rewatch it regularly. I love it so much.” “Okay.” He said kissing her head. Ten minutes later she noticed that Rowan was actually quite involved “I like her.” He said pointing at Detective Santiago. “She is awesome.” “Those two are ending up together. I bet on it.” He commented pointing at Santiago and Peralta and Aelin squeezed his hand. “I like the new captain.” Aelin looked at him but his stare was fixed on the screen and she loved his relaxed face. Her hand caressed his hair and his eyes closed at the contact. Then trailed down and traced his ear and finally placed a very brief kiss on his neck. “She is hot. Santiago I mean.” And Aelin laughed. They binged watched the first season that Aelin decided to call it a night. She was tired from all the moving. “We can continue tomorrow.” He nodded happily. “Good night, my heart.” She said kissing him.

Their home arrangements slowly set into a regular rhythm and Aelin adapted to his way of living. She still felt like a guest and she wanted to make sure she was not disrupting his life too much. He would cook and she would clean the kitchen. She would help him with chores around the house. In their free time Rowan took upon him the task of teaching her to cook. They began with something very simple. Aelin was a quick learner and she also managed to prepare lunch a couple of times without burning down the house.

One night he was in bed and sleep was evading her. She tossed a few times and then her arm extended to the empty side of her bed. She sighed. Since she and Rowan had gotten back from their little holiday she had missed his presence at her side at night. His arms around her and his warmth. She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep.. “Damn,” she groaned in frustration throwing the sheets at the bottom of the bed. She sat up and decided to get up. After pacing for a few minutes in her bedroom she walked out of the room and reached his. “Rowan?” “Are you okay?” He asked switching the light on and sitting up in his bed. His hair was tousled from sleep and she thought he looked sexy. “I can’t sleep.” She said not moving from her spot on the doorstep. She would not move until he gave her permission. “Come here.” He said patting the bed beside him. She smiled and joined him. He lay down again and she snuggled against him and smiled when she felt his arms wrap around her, one around her chest and the other lower around the waist. His head tucked in the crook of her neck. She turned to face him “Since our trip I miss not having you beside me at night.” “Do you now?” He huffed against her skin. Aelin nodded and squeezed closer. Gods it felt so good to be in his arms. Rowan sighed “Do you want to sleep with me?” Then he heard how his sentenced sounded like “I mean you can stay in my bed and sleep in here if you like it.” Aelin looked up at him and smiled “I’d love to.” A kiss on his nose “But I am leaving my stuff in my room. I can’t move my things again.” “It sounds like a plan.”

From that night Aelin had officially moved in his bedroom. She had finally started sleeping soundly again. They had added another milestone in their relationship.

It was of the weekly mornings when Rowan had gone to teach his swimming classes and she was in charge of the bookshop and she was loving it. Aelin looked at her watch for the billionth time in the past ten minutes. Rowan was late. He would always come back at the same time but that day he was late. Over an hour late now and panic began to settle in her. He hadn’t texted her and that was unusual as well. He had always texted even if he was going to be five minutes late to open the shop. Which he knew it was not going to be an issue since he had given her a set of keys a while ago. She paced and could not concentrate on anything. In the end she caved and phoned him. The phone rang a few times. She was about to hang up when he answered. “Rowan Whitethorn, were the fuck are you?” A woman’s voice replied at the other end and Aelin’s heart started racing. Why was another woman answering his phone? He would not cheat on her. “Hello?” Said the voice on the other side and Aelin woke up. “Yes, who are you? Where is Rowan?” “My name is Dr Jamieson. Are you a relative of Mr Whitethorn?” And she almost felt sick. She had done plenty of those phone calls to know that it was not a good sign. She sat down on the chair behind the counter and placed her free hand on her knee to stop it from shaking. “Mr Whitethorn has been admitted to the hospital following a car accident.” Aelin’s brain stopped working. She could not think and definitely she could not breath. “Is… he…” “We should discuss it here at the hospital. Are you a relative?” Aelin froze. She knew hospital policy and they were not allowed to disclose the situation of the patient to someone who was not family. And they weren’t and a roommate was not in the list of the people allowed. Fuck. Her brain was too shocked to think properly. “I am his wife.” Her mouth uttered and she froze “I am on my way there. Is he still in the A&E?” “He has been taken for a CT scan. When you arrive ask for me.” Aelin thanked the woman and took a deep breath and coerced her brain to start working again. Quickly she closed the shop and went back home to get her car. Within ten minutes she was at the hospital, dropped the car at the parking and ran as fast as she could to the A&E. At the reception she asked for Dr. Jamieson and to tell the woman that Mrs Whitethorn was here. She had to remember her act. Five minutes later the doctor arrived and shook her hand. “How is he? Can I see him? Is he out of the CT?” “Mrs Whitethorn, your husband will be back from the CT exam quite soon. He was involved in a frontal crash. The paramedics found him unconscious and his head took a hit. We believe it was from rebound from the seat belts. Very likely his head hit the window pretty hard, that’s why the CT scan. He has few bruises on his ribs and torso due to the seat belts. Nothing is broken but he will be sore for a while.” “Have you checked his abdomen for internal injuries? Are his legs fine?” Her A&E training kicked in and she went through all the possible injuries from such an accident. The woman in front of her looked at her with the type of look that Aelin used to give to family members that tried to tell her how to do her job. Aelin sighed “I am a cardio thoracic surgeon. I have worked in an A&E long enough and seen enough accidents…” “I had a feeling. You did not ask the usual questions family members ask.” The doctor gave her a faint smile “I guess he will be in his room by now. If the CT comes back clear you will be able to take him home tonight but he will need to be at rest for a while.” “Thank you.” The doctor accompanied her to his room and she stopped outside for a moment. She took a deep breath and finally opened the door of his room. A sigh of relief left her when she saw him awake. “Hey…” she ran to him and kissed him while tears ran down her cheeks. She had been terrified. He tried to hug her back but his body protested at the idea of him moving. “Don’t move. You bruised your chest and your ribs.” Then she looked at the cut on his head and noted that luckily was not deep enough to require stitches. Gently she kissed it “No stitches.” And she sat down on the bed beside him and took his hand in hers. Dr Jamieson entered the room while she was kissing his forehead. “Mrs Whitethorn, your husband’s CT is clear. He has a very mild concussion and might experience some headache. If…” “If he gets dizzy, has double vision, gets confused or struggles to stay awake bring him back to the A&E. I know the drill.” The woman smiled and nodded “I will have your discharge paper ready in an hour.” And she left and Rowan was staring at her with wide eyes. “I can explain,” she said knowing full well the reason of that stare “Hospital policy is that they can’t disclose information to non family members. So I had to lie. I couldn’t say I was your sister because well, it was not believable so… my only option was to say that I was your wife. I am sorry.” Rowan started laughing but he stopped when his ribs caused him pain “It’s fine, I think it’s cute.” “I think it’s the concussion speaking.” And she kissed him again “I was terrified.” She took a deep breath “although before that I was mad at you for being late and not telling me anything. Then I phoned you and a woman picked up. Until she told she was a doctor I thought you were cheating on me.” He leaned his forehead against hers “Never. I would never do such a horrible thing to you.” “We are going home soon, and once we do, you will have to listen to me.” He tried to reply but she put a finger on his lips “No. I don’t care. I am the doctor and you will do as I say. You will stay at home and rest. I will look after the bookshop. And this is not open for debate.” “Looks like I got myself a very stern wife.” He kissed her. “Jokes aside, how do you feel?” “A bit of a headache and very sore.” He leaned back on the pillow. “How did you get in an accident. You are such a careful driver.” He flinched “I left the school, at a roundabout an idiot with a van did not respect his turn and I drove straight into him. The car—” “Shh… we’ll deal with the car later.” An hour later the doctor came back with the discharge paper “I prescribed some painkillers. He will need rest. No work for at least three days.” “Thank you doctor.” And the woman left again. “Come, let’s get you back in your clothes.” Rowan pushed his legs off the bed and Aelin helped him remove his hospital gown. Of course he was naked under it and she almost gasped at his bare body. “Dear wife, never seen your husband naked?” He joked and she tried to keep her eyes up. As a doctor she had seen naked men plenty of times, but seeing him was different. “Ok, let’s try to put the t-shirt on. This may hurt.” And it did. Because of his bruises he was in pain and lifting his arms was not an easy task. “Slowly…” they finally managed and he decided to ignore the hoodie. It was not cold outside. Then she helped him with his underwear and trousers. He leaned against her and she tried to hide her massive blush when she caught a peek by mistake. Gods, the man was perfect. “How is your shoulder?” “It’s fine.” Aelin looked at him with the expression of a doctor who caught his patient lie. “Look.” He moved it in circles and she noticed that he was moving it easily and without discomfort. “If you are lying, your are dead, dear husband.” He kissed her “I love you, my dear wife.” Before heading home Aelin stopped at the pharmacy and got the medicines the doctor had prescribed. Once at home, she pushed Rowan to the bedroom. He protested saying that it was day and he could stay on the sofa but he discovered very quickly that Aelin in doctor mode was a bit of a despot. “Just for today. Tomorrow we’ll organise the living room so you can camp there during the day but today I am home and you will stay in bed.” “Fine.” He yielded. She went to his drawer and got some clean bed clothes. “Not again.” “You are not coming to bed with that t-shirt. First, there is blood on it. Second it’s dirty and I changed the sheets this morning.” “You are so mean.” He complained. Aelin grabbed a tube “wait.” She told him when she noticed he was about to try and put the t-shirt back on “This gel will help reduce the bruises and reduce the inflammation.” She spread a bit of the gel on his chest with circular motions being very careful not to cause any more pain. Once she was done she helped him put the t-shirt back on “We’ll put a bit more tonight before bed.” “I have my very own sexy personal nurse.” She grinned in response “Yes, and you’d better listen to her.” She helped him to get into bed and then left the room and came back with a glass of water and some pills “Take these, they will help the headache and reduce the pain in general.” Rowan followed orders and she then sat happily beside him on the bed. “Do you want me to get you a book?” Rowan shook his head “I don’t feel too great to read just now.” She caressed his head and kissed his forehead “just sleep a bit, then.” “We can watch one of your shows.” She grinned. Rowan did not have a tv but she had Netflix on her laptop so she had introduced him to some of her favourite series. At the moment they were to season two of Brooklyn nine nine and Rowan seemed to love it. “I’ll be back.” When she did she had a bed tray and her laptop. She made sure Rowan was comfortable and not in a position that would cause him pain. Then she placed the tray on the bed and her laptop on it. She put her pyjama on and snuggled under the blankets with him and curled up to his chest, and her arm around his waist. “Are you okay?” “Perfect.” He kissed the top of her head. “Are we continuing with Brooklyn nine nine?” He nodded and she started Netflix. A few hours later Aelin woke up and noticed they had both fallen asleep. She closed her laptop and placed on the floor on her side of her bed. Rowan woke in that instant. “Shhh go back to sleep.” She soothed. He lay down again and she snuggled against him. Her hand went gently on his chest and brushed it gently. She had been terrified when she was told he had been in an accident. Until she saw him in his room awake she could not push away the terror in her heart. She felt his heart beat steadily and she finally relaxed and eventually fell asleep as well.

[smilebouquet]

somewhere to go, someone to love

my secret santa gift (@ducktalessecretsanta2020) for @kvanderquack!! i’m sorry for tagging again after i already sent my gift via dm-

also on ao3!!

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For as long as Lena lived (all fifteen years), she’d always been alone. She was born alone on the heights of Mount Vesuvius, from the remnants of her Aunt Magica’s shadow. She travelled to Duckburg alone, with no one to keep her company other than the voices in her head and the harsh whispering of her shadow. She bore the brunt of Magica’s lashings and whining alone, hurt and angry and bitter.

A happy family felt like such a foreign concept to her. Magica was always her one and only kin, the only person who had a connection to her. And she hated every second of it. If having just one aunt was so exhausting, imagine having two aunts. Imagine three. Criticizing your every move. Yelling at you for screwing up. Demanding nothing but obedience and respect and returning none of it. 

Lena didn’t think she would be able to take it. Family just didn’t sound like something she’d like.

That’s what she thought, anyway, until the Sabrewings took her in.

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1.

Lena can’t sleep.

Or to be exact, she can’t sleep peacefully. Ever since she came back to the land of the living, she’s been having dreams. Dreams where she found herself running from her. Into the woods, where the screeching of bats rang in the air, and the ground was muddy and made each consecutive step heavy. Or within a mansion suspiciously similar to Scrooge’s, her voice bouncing off the walls and getting closer and closer until they were literally screaming into her ears. She could do nothing but run.

She never dared to look back, but Lena always managed to glimpse her in the corner of her eye. The swish of a velvety black cape. A gloved hand, reaching out to snatch her. A flash of purple magic. 

Lena always manages to wake up before Magica could grab her and do god-knows-what. She would always be grateful for the fact that she awoke easily. But every dream ended in To Be Continued — never The End — and Lena didn’t want to know what The End would look like, because she has the sinking feeling that it won’t be a Happily Ever After.

Tonight is no different. She’s staring up at the ceiling of Violet’s room, letting the muffled snores of her roommate fill the still air. It’s getting increasingly hard to stay awake, and she isn’t sure how much longer she can take it.

Sighing, she rolls out of bed and leaves the room, making sure the door creaked as quietly as possible and that it clicked shut. She heads down the stairs and into the living room. A bookshelf stands in the corner, filled with all sorts of books from encyclopedias to photography books.

Lena instinctively grabs a cookbook (and accidentally knocks off a few more, but she’ll deal with them later) from the second topmost shelf. Yellow sticky notes jut out of the pages, all written on with dark purple ink. Walking into the kitchen adjacent, she flicks on the light, then flips the book open. Vanilla Cake, reads the title in big bold letters, followed by the exact quantity of ingredients needed and the instructions on how to bake one.

This should keep her up until tomorrow.

"...Lena? Shouldn't you be in bed?"

She freezes. Ty is standing at the door, a wooden baseball bat loosely held in his grip. He chucks it aside and steps into the kitchen.

"Hey." She waves half-heartedly with a sheepish smile. "I, uh, couldn't sleep."

"And you're in the kitchen with a cookbook, why?"

Because Aunt Magica haunts my dreams every night and I don’t wanna deal with it anymore?

“...I wanted to do something nice for my friends for once, so I thought baking a cake for our sleepover would be neat?”

Ty’s gaze flickers between Lena and the clock currently showing 12:59. He pinches the area between his eyes. “Lena, it’s late. I think you should go to bed—”

“No!” He flinches. Lena’s eyes widen. “I mean— no, I can’t go to bed until I finish this cake!” she backtracks, her voice cracking. Her heart is pounding. She can't go to sleep, she can't...! “If you help me, I’ll go to bed sooner! Maybe!”

Ty scratches the back of his head. “Well, Indy’s the dad who bakes, not me... but I suppose I can try.”

Relief washes over her. She flashes him a tired smile, handing him a bowl and some measuring cups. “Thanks.”

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2.

“We’re back!” 

Indy looks up from the couch. “Welcome back. How was your sleepover?”

“Pleasant,” Violet replies, already halfway up the stairs. “Ate some cake. Played a video game. Saved Lena from getting dragged into a mirror and possibly losing her within a lucid dream to the witch responsible for the shadow war several months ago. The usual.”

“Sounds nice,” Indy remarks. Then did a double take. “Wait, what?”

Ty laughs, following after Violet. “It’s a long story. Took the whole car ride for them to finish telling it.” Indy glares after him, but shrugs and returns to his book.

Lena drops her own bag on the floor and flops onto the couch with a heavy sigh. She could shower or whatever later. Right now she just wanted to rest.

“Long day?” Indy asks, barely moving from his position on the right side of the couch.

“Kinda. I’ve been through worse, though.”

There's a beat of silence.

The unspoken Like what? hangs over her head uncomfortably. Is this the part where she spills her entire life story? Should she play it off as a joke? Would it be wise to pretend she hadn’t said anything? She can feel Indy’s stare on her shoulder, burning like a pair of red-hot lasers—

He either noticed her discomfort, or is really good at reading minds, because he hums quietly and says, “You don’t have to elaborate.”

“...Ah. Right. Okay.” She sits upright, then lets out a short laugh. Her eyes wander over to Indy, who’s still reading his book with a content look on his face. “What is that?”

Indy shows her the book. There’s a bunch of pictures of Violet, Ty and Indy together. “It’s one of the family photo albums,” he explains. “Photography is one of my hobbies.”

Lena grunts in response, then peers at the photos more closely. “Is that Violet in the library?”

“Oh, that’s from the first time we visited the public library together. We had just moved into Duckburg, and wanted to do a little sightseeing. Violet insisted that we check out the library. That girl always did love reading. She gets it from Ty…”

They spend the rest of the hour looking through the photo album together. There’s a surprising amount of photos in this one tiny album, each preserving a special memory that Indy knows by heart and tells Lena about with nothing but fondness. She now knows that Violet used to take ballet classes (and hated it), has won at least two national spelling bees by the age of six, and is part of the Junior Woodchucks.

Photos from before Violet was born are also in it, located near the end of the album. Indy tells Lena that he first met Ty at a college entrance exam. They had entered the building at the same time, and Ty thought it would be neat to strike a conversation with him. They hit it off pretty much immediately, but forgot to ask for each other’s phone numbers before they went their separate ways.

“But you’re married now?!” Lena blurts out, jumping from the cough to point a shaky finger at him. “How?!”

He chuckles. “We met again at a supermarket several months later, I believe, reaching for the same can of beans. Ty’s first words to me ever since were ‘Holy shit, you like beans, too?!’ This time we remembered to exchange contact information, and here we are ten years later.”

“I— Wow.” Lena sits back down. “Some luck you have.”

“I wouldn’t call it luck,” he admits. His fingers gently caressing the old photo of them. “I like to think of it as fate. If we’re meant to be together, life will find a way to get us together.”

(Lena thinks about Webby.

She thinks about their “chance” meeting at the amphitheater.

She thinks about how she almost lost Webby by sacrificing herself to protect her.

She thinks about how lucky she had been that Violet was there in the library that day, reading a nerdy old book.

She inwardly decides that Indy is probably right.)

Once they reach the end of the album, Indy moves to close it. The corners of several photographs stick out from the side. Lena blinks.

“And those are?”

He looks down. “Oh.” Tucking them back in, he replies, “Those are some of the newer photographs. Haven’t gotten a new album for them yet, so I keep them here for the time being.” His fingers drum on the hard cover. “Come to think of it, I don't have any pictures with you yet. We’ll need to remedy that.”

“Hm, why?”

“You’re family, after all. I think you deserve a spot in the photo album.”

Family. She’s family. The thought of it makes her heart flutter.

It takes her a minute to realize Indy stopped talking, and is looking at her with the slightest hint of hesitation in his expression.

She beams at him. “That would be nice. You should get a new album first, though.” As if on cue, a photograph falls out. She picks up. “Hey, what about this one?” Indy lights up, and starts going into a tangent about the one time they lost Violet at Duckburg’s largest department store. As he does, she zones out for a bit, testing the name.

‘Lena Sabrewing’, huh…  She can feel her smile widening.  Sounds way cooler than Lena de Spell.

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3.

This is terrible, Lena concludes.

They’re on the way to the Junior Woodchuck Campgrounds for Violet’s upcoming graduation. She’s a little hazy on the details, but she does know that each year only one senior junior woodchuck can become a senior woodchuck (“That’s dumb! Why can’t you all just become senior woodchucks?!” “Don’t question it, Lena.”), they decide who graduates with some sort of obstacle course, and Violet’s opponent this year is likely going to be Huey.

Lena also knows that the campgrounds are located waaaay out on some island in the middle of nowhere, and if she sees another “NOW LEAVING DUCKBURG” sign she’s going to lose it. She lets out a groan as she slides farther down her seat, watching the pine trees blur into a strip of green on the landscape. “Hey, Vi, how much longer ‘til we’re there?”

No answer.

“Vi?”

Again, no answer. Lena knows that Violet has a tendency to be quiet during car rides, preferring to admire the scenery as they drive, but Violet should’ve at least spared her a grunt at this point.

She decides to turn and look at her. Violet is staring at her lap, perfectly still. Her fists are clenched so tightly she can see the white knuckles beneath her purple feathers, and they’re trembling.

“Vi, what’s wrong...?” Lena begins to ask, and then immediately Indy’s voice from before echoes in her head.

“Third time’s the charm, right Vi?”

The gears click into place. Oh.

She inches closer to Violet’s side — as much as she can with her seatbelt on, anyway — and reaches out to place a comforting hand over Violet’s. The hummingbird looks up.

“Hey,” Lena says, “you’ll be okay. You’re the best nerd I’ve ever know. What’s Huey got, his stupid guidebook? You’ve got this.”

“Actually, the Junior Woodchuck Wilderness Challenge prohibits use of the guidebook,” Violet corrects, then sighs. “Sorry. I know you’re trying to comfort me, but I…” She trails off. “I know failing is natural, but it still terrifies me every single time.”

Silence.

Indy, from the passenger seat, pipes up, “Violet, you know that just being willing to go back and try again is… really brave, right? Yeah, failure is inevitable, and very terrifying, but not a lot of people are able to bounce back from it like you do.”

“What Indy said.” Ty peers at them from the rearview mirror and gives them a thumbs up. “We love you no matter what, and I bet you’re gonna crush the competition this year.”

“Yeah! What they said! You’re Violet Sabrewing. You brought me back from the Shadow Realm. If you can do that, you can do anything!”

Violet stares at her for a moment, then Indy, then Ty. Her eyes are glassy. She opens her fist to hold Lena’s hand and squeezes it weakly.

“Thanks,” she whispers, with a smile that doesn’t exactly reach her eyes.

...At least she’s smiling a little. Lena frowns, but gets an idea. She leans forward to ask Ty, “By the way, how long until we get there?”

“Five hours, I think,” Indy answers.

“FIVE HOURS?!” She can feel a vein pop in her head. Five hours. Five. Hours. It feels like she’s been in this stinkin’ car for decades already. Well, no matter.

She turns to Violet. “Alright, since we’re basically stuck here, why don’t I teach you how to smacktalk?”

Violet raises an eyebrow, clearly unamused. “Is that really necessary? Also, I doubt Hubert would appreciate—”

“Of course it is! And of course he won’t. You can’t have a healthy rivalry without a little back and forth! Where’s the fun in that?! Now, the key to good smacktalk is...”

She spends the rest of the ride lecturing Violet on the essentials of smacktalk (read: making most of it up as she went). As they drove, Violet’s shoulders began to relax and she allowed herself to laugh more, and Lena felt more at ease than she had in a while.

––––––––––

4.

Lena wakes up with a gasp. Frantically, she feels around. Her arms are intact. Her legs are still here. Nothing hurts. Phantom Blot isn’t here. Okay. It was just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream.

“Lena?”

“Vi?” Lena calls, but it sounds more like a choked sob. She’s suddenly acutely aware of the tears messing up her feathers and her pounding heart.

Violet sits up. “Another nightmare?” she asks, her voice quiet. Lena nods. She gets up from bed and leaves the room. Lena sits in the darkness, her hands gripping her knees tightly. Breathe in, breathe out.

Violet returns with a tall glass of water and hands it to her. Lena takes it and brings the glass to her beak. The water is cool and soothing.

“They’ve become increasingly frequent. Shouldn’t we talk to our fathers about this?”

“No,” Lena says immediately, finishing her glass and setting it on the night table with shaky hands. “I don’t want them to get worried.” 

Violet gives her a glare that pierces even in the dark, then sighs.

“Very well.”

✿ — ✿ — ✿

On Christmas Day, Lena wakes up to Violet dumping a bucket of cold water over her.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Ack—! Violet, what the hell?!”

“Apologies,” Violet says, her tone betraying her words. She’s already dressed in a plain cream turtleneck. “You wouldn’t wake up no matter what I did.” She tugs at her sleeve. “Now, come. Fathers are already in the living room. You were literally the last to awaken.” Without waiting for a response, she drags her out of the room and down the stairs.

The living room feels… warmer than usual. There are string lights, giving out a gentle multicoloured glow, both around the Christmas Tree and hung up along the walls. Someone took the time to hang a wreath on every door in the house, each covered in mini ornaments and topped with a red bow. The bright orange fire in the fireplace is crackling.

Ty and Indy are already waiting, wearing matching Christmas sweaters. “Merry Christmas!” they greet, pulling the two girls into a hug. 

“Merry Christmas,” Lena says back before pulling away. The cheeriness of the season was beginning to catch up to her. “So! What do we do first?”

“Well, the presents are under the tree but maybe eat breakfast first—”

Lena was gone the moment Ty said ‘presents’. She rushes to the tree and begins checking the tags for her name. Not that there are that many presents to check. Violet follows soon after with a much calmer demeanor.

She ends up with a limited edition of The FeatherWeights’ newest album from Ty and Indy (“How did you know they’re my favourite band?!” “Your shirt is all we needed to clue us in.”) and an exact replica of the Caw-nverse shoes she loves wearing. Violet receives two books — an encyclopedia the thickness of one and a half dictionaries about magic and a thinner book called Tales of the Peculiar.

She’s ready to head off to the dining table to eat when Violet stops her. 

“Wait.” She pulls out a neatly wrapped present from her pocket and holds it out to Lena. “Here.”

“Wh— But I didn’t get you anything!”

“It’s okay.” Violet shoves the present into her hands. “Just take it.” Lena peers at her suspiciously before tearing the wrapping paper clean off and opening the box.

A dreamcatcher. The hoop used is a nice beige, and a flower-like design had been woven within it with colourful threads. White feathers suspended from twine, with beads adorning the strands at intervals, are attached to the hoop. Lena dangles the dreamcatcher above the box and looks at Violet questioningly.

“It may not be as beneficial as actual therapy since I couldn’t infuse it with any magic, but it should help keep the bad dreams at bay,” Violet explains. “Probably. I made it myself so it might not work.”

Lena stares at the dreamcatcher again. Upon closer inspection, the feathers and beads appear to be glued to the twine, and the twine was wound imperfectly around the base of the hoop. The flower design is also uneven, having slightly larger ‘petals’ on one side. She feels herself tear up. “Violet. This is the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for me.”

“I can’t believe saving you from roaming in the shadow realm for all of eternity isn’t the sweetest thing I've ever done for you,” Violet replies, completely deadpan. But the corners of her beak are twitching upwards.

“You wanted to summon evil spirits! I was a byproduct. It doesn’t count,” Lena jokes, putting the dreamcatcher away. She envelopes her in a crushing hug. “Thank you.” Her voice is wobbling. “This is just— It must’ve taken ages. Now I feel even worse for not getting you anything.”

Violet hugs her back just as tightly. “You’re welcome. Just make sure you get me my own personal library next year.”

As if your room isn’t filled with enough books as is, Lena thinks, but she can’t help but laugh.

Ty clears his throat. “This is great, but it’s already nine and you girls haven’t even had breakfast yet, so chop chop! We’ve got a whole day ahead of us.”

(They end up at the ice rink, where Lena learns that she’s actually terrible at ice skating. Violet offers to teach her like the Samaritan she is, but doesn’t hesitate to throw jabs at her incompetence. Fortunately, she’s not the only one who’s suffering, if Indy’s screaming and Ty’s guffawing are any indications.)

––––––––––

In the first fifteen years of her life, Lena had been alone with no one to turn to. Being part of a happy family felt like something out of a movie or fairy tale. Happiness seemed like an unreachable dream.

But within two years, she found a best friend in Webby, a sister in Violet, and two dads in Ty and Indy. She found a family to call her own, one that loved her and made her feel good about herself. She was finally content.

The dreamcatcher and family photo hanging above her bed would need to be pried from her cold, dead hands.

[stilloutofmyvulcanmind]

May Flowers Challenge Day 2

Prompt: “Stop texting me weird stuff so late at night” requested by @musikat18

Pairing: John Constantine x Reader

Word count: 1.1k

Warning: John being weird

It was a little after midnight and you were about to go to sleep for the night when the screen of your phone lit up and vibrated on the nightstand. Reaching over you fumbled with the device to read the text. 

You awake? 

It was from John. You hesitated a moment, then replied. 

No 

There was no answer for several minutes, so figuring he'd taken the hint you set the phone back down and settled back in your bed. 

No sooner had you closed your eyes the phone buzzed again. 

You were going to kill him. 

Reading the message it took a moment for the contents to sink in. A picture came through next, and was that-? 

You were definitely going to kill him.

Ignoring the text and hoping the image hadn't been burned into your mind forever, you attempted once again to fall asleep. 

The phone buzzed again. 

And again. 

And again. 

Risking a glance, you instantly regretted it. 

There was going to be a murder on the Waverider. 

~

"Ow!" John yelped in surprise when a pack of his cigarettes whacked and bounced off his head. "Bloody hell, what was that for?!" He rubbed the spot, glaring at you from where he sat at the dining table. 

"All those damned texts last night!" 

"They weren't that bad, luv."

"There were heads."

"Shrunken heads."

"Blood!" 

"That was used to draw sigils so bloody old we don’t know when they’re from."

"I don't care! It was blood! I don't want to see that shit at one in the morning! Stop texting me weird stuff so late at night!" 

John held his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright, point taken, luv."

"Good." Turning on your heel you marched away, heading to any spot he definitely wouldn't show up at. 

~

Mid-afternoon and you were in the lab when you sensed a presence behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw Sara approaching. 

"So, John is drinking in the library. Naked."

Rolling your eyes, you couldn't help a half chuckle. "What's new there?" 

"Nothing, except he's going through the bottle of whiskey faster than usual." 

"And you think it's because of me?" 

"I think he took your rejection hard."

"Rejection? I just told him to quit sending me weird shit in the middle of the night."

"You know he did it to get your attention, right?" 

"What?" 

Sara laughed and gave you a look. "He sent a bunch of weird ancient history stuff to the one person on board who's a massive ancient history nerd. He wanted your attention."

"Why would he want my attention?" 

Another look and Sara smiled. "You're pretty smart, Y/N. I think you can figure it out."

Feeling your cheeks heat up, you looked away and down at your hands. "If he likes me he could've just told me. Like a normal person."

"Since when has John done anything normal?" 

Okay, yeah, that was true. Fiddling with the cuff of your sleeve, you weren't entirely sure what to do with this information. It'd be a lie to say you weren't interested. Total opposite. You'd just figured he wasn't interested. It wasn't like he had a quiet life, and you'd thought he was too busy helping chase down magical creatures to be developing feelings for anyone. 

"He's not gonna make the first move. If you feel the same, you'll have to go to him."

You glanced at Sara and nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, Captain." 

Sara squeezed your shoulder. "Good luck."

She left you alone and you slumped down onto a stool. You had some thinking to do. And maybe a talk to prepare for. 

~

As it turned out, you didn't have much time for thinking or preparing. You'd gotten a mission, and in true Legends fashion what should've been a simple get-in-get-out plan went horribly wrong. A child had come under attack and John saved them at the cost of risking his own life. He was fine now, but seeing him unconscious and hurt in the medbay had left you shaken, scared that you'd lose him before getting a chance to talk. 

You tossed and turned in bed, unable to get a wink of sleep. Groaning in frustration, you grabbed your phone, not missing the irony when you saw it was just after one. 

You awake? 

A minute passed then the text came back. 

No

You had to laugh. 

I'm glad you're okay 

Aw, luv, didn't know you cared

Of course I care 

You sent the text and then another immediately. 

I'm sorry, John 

What for? 

I shouldn't have snapped at you 

It's in the past, luv 

You stared at the text for a while. 

And for making you think I didn't care 

You're making me blush

You smiled, looking up at the ceiling while you summoned up some courage. 

I think it's my turn to text you something weird late at night 

Yeah? Got some blood sigils for me? A dismembered dick? 

John… 

I'm all ears, luv. Eyes 

Seeing you get hurt out there, it made me realize something. Probably shouldn't say this through text, but, I love you, John

Hitting the send button you held your breath. Little ticks appeared next to your message, but there was no sign of him sending anything back. A knot started to twist in your stomach. Maybe Sara had been wrong, maybe he didn't like you. Fuck, had you just ruined everything? 

You were about to apologize when there was a knock on the door. John stood on the other side, looking tired and pale, but determined. 

"People who get close to me die," he said. 

"We travel around on a spaceship fighting magical creatures throughout time. There's a risk of dying every single day."

John gave a half-hearted chuckle, "You're right about that, luv." He paused for a moment, studying your face in the low light. "I love you too."

Breathing a sigh of relief, you smiled and stepped aside, motioning towards the bed. "C'mon, you look like you're about to fall over. Go lie down."

"Inviting me to bed before I even take you out? I'd have done this months ago if I figured I'd get this lucky." The trademark smirk was back, but he walked towards the bed anyway. 

Resisting the urge to smack him, you locked the door and followed him to the bed, flopping down onto one side once he'd settled. You lay together, not cuddling, but facing each other. It was intimate, but John didn't seem to notice. As soon as he was comfy, the tension drained away and he was half asleep already. 

"John?" You asked before he totally nodded off. 

"Mmm?" 

"Tomorrow, will you tell me more about those blood sigils?"

Chuckling sleepily, John nodded. "Yeah, luv. Anything for you."

You smiled, watching John drift to sleep. He was a dumbass disaster, but now, he was your dumbass disaster. 

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