#oh to receive a love letter from a little shadow <3

[delulustateofmind]

Between Worlds Part IV

A/n: Sorry for the short chapter! I'm going to be really busy this week with work so I won't have another update til next week probably. Next week's update with be part two of "A City of Dreams" and part five for between worlds. Thank you everyone for the love on the last one. Hope you guys enjoy a bit of Azriel's pov. :))

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five: Coming soon!

Summary: Reader wakes up in ACOTAR a year after the war with Hybern. A bunch of events happen that leads to them waking up in a one night stand with Azriel.

Trigger Warnings? None!

Work Count: 1.2k

‎‧₊˚✧ Reader POV ✧˚₊‧

Azriel left nothing but his scent of night-chilled mist and cedar lingering in the air. After he departed, you made your way into the estate, feeling somewhat dazed as you traversed up the steps and through the doorway. give Thoughts of your recent conversation swirled in your mind. How could Azriel be so considerate? He seemed to accept the bargain without too much hesitation, despite gaining nothing from it. Azriel’s unexpected acceptance left you feeling uneasy. Did he have a plan, or was he simply indulging on a whim? It was hard to tell with someone as enigmatic as Azriel. After all, to the fae, three months might feel like a mere blink of an eye. 

As soon as you stepped into the hall of the estate, your maid who seemed to be in a frantic mood quickly intercepted you as she caught your eye, her expression tense as she guided you to your bedroom. “Where have you been?” she chided softly, her grip on her apron betraying her nerves. “You’ve never done anything like this before, in all twenty-six years of your life. If your parents found out…why they would never let you leave again.” 

“I’m sorry…I stayed the night with Hazel,” The lie seemed to slip out, almost like muscle memory. A few thoughts occurred to you.

But what if you told her the truth? Would she be excited? How long has she been your maid? What even if her name? 

A small huff pulled you away from lingering thoughts. 

“You smell like a drunken fool, you look like one too. Bath, now” Your maid instructed, her tone firm as she closed the bedroom door behind us. 

“Thank you for covering for me” your voice barely above a whisper, as you made your way to the bathroom attached to your bedroom quarters. The words felt hollow on your tongue, weighed down by the guilt of deceiving everyone around you. Yet, somehow beneath the surface, a sliver of relief flickered, knowing that you had someone you could trust somewhat. 

Before you began to strip off the dress, you looked over at your maid who was searching your closet for a dress. You simply stated. 

“Could you find me a journal? One with a lock or a ward?” Your maid gave you a quizzical look and shrugged with a nod. A wave of her hand ushered you to quickly bathe as there was much to do today. 

‎‧₊˚✧ Azriel POV ✧˚₊‧

I winnowed back to the outskirts of the House of Wind, the rush of air exhilarating as I took flight. My wings unfurled to their full span, casting long shadows across the ground as I landed softly in front of the house. As I made my way to my room, a deep sigh escaped my lips, the weight of recent events pressing down on me. 

My mate

The realization still felt surreal, after all these years of waiting. Yet, despite my excitement, doubts nagged at the edges of my mind. Was she afraid? Last night, she seemed drawn to me, but today, only fear and concern marred her features.

What was she hiding? 

I understand my reputation proceeds me, as I’ve done horrible things. I’ve killed, tortured, and manipulated in more ways than I could count. I know I’m undeserving of a mate, one that seemed so perfect. Yet, somehow, I feel as if she already knows of the horrible things that I’ve done. The way her fingers would brush across my scarred hands as if they weren’t… horrible as if they hadn’t caused pain and hurt to the world. 

The shadows… I never expected them to be so soft

You seemed to see his shadows as a part of him, something to be cherished and praised. While others thought of them as something to be feared, something people shunned besides his family. Yet, how often did you think about his shadows, especially since you both have never met before? 

The chances of you two meeting were slim, it could have happened in passing. Your father is one of the government officials for Velaris. A kind man, though he had only spoken to him maybe once or twice. Though, I could never forget her if we had met, the way her eyes seemed to gleam up at me like stars. Eyes that made him feel safe as if he could drown in them from the warmness they beheld. 

For once, he felt like he could let his guard down, and it was a surreal feeling, one he was hesitant to admit. Perhaps, that’s why he trusts her so much that he made a bargain that didn’t benefit him in the slightest. 

Why were you so intoxicating? Occupying his mind like a drug? We had only just met, yet I crave you. 

The urge to send a few of his shadows your way to at least know that you’re safe. You seemed so trusting and naive, what if someone used that against you? Though he knew the terms of the bargain as he rubbed the small marking on his wrist. Didn’t mean he liked the terms. 

Azirel also knew he didn’t have to wait three months to see you, but you looked desperate for something. As if you lacked time, you’re fae? Privileged fae…you had all the time in the world. Therefore, what was causing that pretty little mind of yours to hesitate to be his mate? What did you need to complete before you both could be mated together? 

A distraction is what he needed. 

A curse was under his breath as he knew he was behind on reports that he needed to complete before the Starfall event with his family. He couldn’t let himself go crazy thinking of y/n and what she was doing. Perhaps, he would send flowers, maybe even a little shadow, one that he would command not to report to him but just so she knew he was still here…that if she needed him, he was a whisper away. 

A deep sigh escaped his lips as he ran his fingers through his raven black hair grabbed a piece of paper and wrote a note. An awful idea really, but how harmful would it be? 

My Dearest Y/n,

How you have ensnared me in your spell, I cannot fathom. Your very presence is a symphony of enchantment, weaving its melody through the fibers of my soul. For you, my mate, I offer these flowers to brighten your hangover, accompanied by one of my shadows. Fear not for I have commanded them to honor our bargain, refraining from any prying or divulging of secrets. Should you ever need me, simply whisper to the shadow and I will come to you at a moment’s notice. 

In truth, I am not one to resort to poetry or love letters, but for you, I would humble myself before the Mother. 

With all my affection, 

Azriel, your mate 

With a flick of his wrist, a silent command, the shadow obediently trailed off, carrying the letter. Azriel had commanded it to bring flowers from Elain’s garden as well. As he watched the shadow disappear, a deep sigh along with a curse escaped his lips. Despite the tasks awaiting him, his mind remained preoccupied with thoughts of you.

Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe, @why4anne, @impossibelle, @lilah-asteria

[bansept]

Precious Folly (mudad, Victorian AU)

Part 1 : Unexpected

In 1880, Dio Brando was brought into the Joestar family. Grateful for this opportunity to live a different life than his wicked father, the boy grew to love his adoptive brother, Jonathan, and his father. While Jonathan is growing to be the successor of his father's business, Dio becomes a lawyer, in the hopes of punishing the ones that truly deserve punishment.

In 1890, the blonde man received a letter from an old conquest of his: he has a son.

--

The wind howled against the freshly cleaned window of the Joestar mansion, the strong yet elegant facade faithfully protecting the family from yet another rainy day. It was quite expected this early in April to rain in England, but the heavy downfall had a somehow mysterious aura. As if something was being fomented in the shadows...

Dio raised his gaze back from the numerous puddles of mud straining the otherwise impeccable lawn of the manor's entrance. He was working on a common case, where a theft had been committed. A wealthy couple from London possessed much jewelry, rumored to be from lands in Africa, claiming that their loyal and sincere servants had stolen from them, obviously leaving out their indebted and gold-hungry son. As a man born in the slums, Dio could see, and feel, who was a thief, and who was the innocent paying the heavy price. Certainly, explaining to the elderly couple that they should blame their own flesh and blood instead of a pack of servants wouldn't be easy, but the thrill of putting them back in their place was enough reason to work hard.

The heavy engraved wooden door of his study opened with a slight creak, revealing Dio's adoptive brother, Jonathan, smiling brightly as he so usually did. The beefy man was carrying his infant son, a round and pink little thing with the same puff-colored hair as his father adorning his head. For the past 3 months since the arrival of the new Joestar, Jonathan and Erina were of course very busy, to the point where Dio hardly even saw them anymore; he was working until very late, then traveling to London to finish his cases, gain some more, and then come back a few days later in the countryside. It wasn't quite the type of life fitting to engage with his nephew at his early age.

"Dio, I'm glad you are here!" His brother exclaimed in apparent gratefulness, but mindful to speak at a volume that wouldn't make the boy in his arm scream.

Please, let not the boy scream. Dio was not ready for the incessant cries to be in front of him.

"Well, of course, I am here. I am still working on a rather boring case, but I'll allow you to disturb me for a few moments."

Jonathan chuckled at the fake snobby tone the blonde was giving him, walking up to his desk. Dio gathered some loose documents from the mahogany surface, bothered by the carefree attitude it seemed to give him.

"I am relieved you find some time to see us. It's been a long while since we were able to talk."

"It has yes. I didn't want to disturb your newly found... family life."

Jonathan placed a very delicate giant hand - the irony of it - on his son's stomach, giving him his finger to suck on. It was kind of him to prevent the baby from any future wailing. Dio studied the image for a moment, before picking up his pen to place it back in its inkwell.

"Ah, yes, it was certainly a bit time-consuming for us. But what a joy it was, is."

"I'm sure, yes." Dio nodded politely. "But for what reason have you come to me? I hope you are not here to tell me you got your wife knocked up again. So early after your first born and at such a young age, you'd soon repopulate all of England at this rate."

Oh, what a pleasure it was to witness Jonathan turn bright red at the crudeness of his words.

"D-Dio! You're being inappropriate! Of course not!"

The blonde man let out an honest laugh, and he swore he heard Jonathan mutter the only curse words he allowed himself to learn.

"My apologies. It was much too tempting to ask. But do tell me, what is it?"

Before the huge blue-haired man could breathe out his answer, a servant had entered the room, his drenched coat from the outside rain dripping over the, oh dear, Persian carpets.

"My apologies, my lords, but I have this urgent letter for you, Lord Dio. It has arrived from London."

The young servant brought it to his master, careful as to not wet anything in the room. Dio thanked him briefly, turning the letter to see who might be the sender. Nothing on either side. He frowned, staring back at the servant.

"Are you certain it is for me? Or that it is urgent at all?"

"I'm only repeating the words of the postman my Lord."

Dio glanced at Jonathan, who shrugged back at him with a curious look on his face. It was a clear mystery for the two brothers, and the blonde wasn't quite certain he wanted to open the cryptic letter in public. That was before he was pushed to do so by the yet still childish Jonathan.

He sighed heavily, calling the man in front of him a fool, which didn't phase him a bit, and graciously opened the envelope. Inside was a simple sheet of paper, and by the look of it, a poor quality one: yellow, with spots of dirt, dust, and wax. Dio tried not to grimace thinking where that letter even came from and gathered it in his hand, letting the container fall on his desk. It was folded in two, a way to add even more irritation to the man's blood. But as he finally read over the letter, Dio could feel a cold sweat trickle down the nape of his neck.

Dear Dio,

I know that you didn't want to hear from me. I didn't want to write this letter, as it would break our deal, but please believe that I do not have any other choice.

You have a son, Dio.

You must be thinking I must be mistaken, that the boy isn't yours. But he is. He has your golden hair, and even as just a baby, he has this aura that makes him loved.

I am telling you about his existence because it is the right thing to do. I truly believe you should know that he exists. But, it is not just for this reason.

I am sick, and his birth weakened me to the point where I can't even walk two steps before falling to my knees, exhausted. Nobody around me can or would be willing to take care of your son when I'm gone. I wish the world was different, that a kind soul could help me out so I wouldn't have to burden you with this bastard son, but things are the way they are.

My only request is that you offer your child shelter for the time being. Whether you keep him with you or you decide to put him in an orphanage or another family, the most important is that he doesn't die with me, in those slums, because I know nobody will take care of him.

I will hope, desperately, for your visit.

Shiobana.

The room was silent, one side from expectation, and the other from disbelief. The look of absolute shock on his brother's face forced Jonathan to call his name gently.

"Dio? Is everything alright?"

Dio didn't know what to answer, or what to think. Not only was it absolutely possible for this letter to be true, the messy, broken way the words were written, the condition of the letter, the secret deal of no longer meeting, or even speaking with his previous lover... All of it was real. Nothing was a lie in appearance. But was the content of the letter the truth? Women could be wicked, envious, and gold diggers. He was a wealthy man by his family, perhaps the reason this letter was sent was to attract him into a trap to rob him blind, even slice his throat for unknown reasons. It could be the purpose of sending this letter. But... What if there really was a child? A boy? A bastard. If the child was real, what would he do? What could he do? Ignore the letter and let the two of them die in poverty and sickness? Take the child to give him to somebody else, as the woman had suggested?

Take him in, raise him, and recognize him as his son?

The letter remained in his hand as if directly questioning him, pressuring him to give his answer now. His fingers had grown cold and sweaty, his eyes shaking from uncontained fear, and that was enough for Jonathan to raise to his feet.

"Please take George back to Erina." He instructed the servant, the young man obeying quickly and silently.

The Joestar heir firmly held Dio's shoulder to express his support and extended the other hand to ask for the letter. Dio didn't move a muscle for a few seconds, before passing the frightening paper to his brother. The study was silent, thick with frightening reality. Jonathan didn't move his hand, no matter how shocked he surely was by the letter's content, or even how angry with Dio he might be. The seated blonde didn't want to move, speak, think. Either of these actions would lead to some consequence of some sort he knew would shatter his world.

Jonathan finished reading the letter as he put the letter down on the desk.

"I will ask for the carriage to be prepared."

Dio's eyes regained their focus, throwing Jonathan a look of perfect shock, and some anger.

"What?"

The bulky man turned to him, a peaceful yet strong look on his face.

The slums didn't change. No matter the year, the season, the weather. Pests and low lives remained. Coming back to this place, this specific unguarded world was a punishment for all of his sins, a reminder of his childhood he yearned to forget. Never once had this place meant anything but shit, illness, and pain.

"You have to go, brother. Even if you're scared this letter might be either a decoy or the truth, you have to go. You won't be able to face yourself otherwise."

Perhaps today, he would change a part of his mind.

Dio walked on the wooden path among the mud, not entirely wishing for his shoes to be ruined, following the route a working girl had indicated to him. When he'd meet with the Japanese woman, he would choose the place, a clean house away from the actual living quarters of most commoners. But today was obviously a different errand.

The other passerby stared at him in envy, the comfortable, warm-looking cloak, elegant hat, and dark rich trousers making Dio shine with difference and had he not been so easily angered, the nobleman knew he would already have been attacked.

He finally found the doorstep he was feverishly searching for and entered the house without being announced.

The hovel, really, was cold, damp and smelling of mud and coal. The few candles spread on the table as a poor source of light didn't help make the home feel like one. In the single room that made up the entire house, pushed back right against the windowed wall was a small bed. He saw feet moving under the covers and knew he was in the right place. Dio gently took his hat off, preferring to keep it in his hand rather than place it down on the table near cold porridge, and strolled to the bed, his amber eyes not leaving the child in the woman's arm for even a second.

Shiobana, the Japanese woman, held her baby against her heart, trying to protect the little one from the icy cold she was succumbing to. Her exhausted and sickly face forced itself to smile as she caught his movements.

"Dio... You came..."

He didn't speak, voice lost in astonishment at the sight of the supposed boy that was wrapped up in the cleanest-looking blanket the woman possessed. Blond hair. On the baby's head. Enough to confirm her words.

"So, you were saying the truth." He murmured, bending down to inspect this tragic duo. "When was the boy born?"

"5 days ago..." She managed to mumble before raising the child as high as her weak arms could. "Please... Warm him."

His arms gathered the baby on their own accord, feeling the weight of the little human for the first time. And how terrifyingly cold he was. Dio didn't dare look at his face for now, a hand opening his vest and his shirt to push the baby against him. He would get warmer much more quickly that way. It would be much too long to try to light a fire, and his mother was too weak, and probably too sick to feed him the warm milk he needed. The boy made a sound, perhaps one of contentment, against his father's huge chest. Dio felt a smile work his lips.

"Please... Tell... Tell me you'll make sure he lives..."

Dio glanced back at her. She had been beautiful, and lively, and knew how to have a good time. One night, he remembered her wishing she'd never have children, for they would ruin her fun. Now, she had held onto all the life force she could muster to keep her child safe, alive. Her beauty was gone, her cheerfulness too, the dry, chapped lips, hollow cheeks and sweaty hair painting her last moments on this earth with a heartbreaking reality. He let go of his hat, letting it tumble to the floor, to hold her ice-cold face.

"I will take care of him, you have my word."

His promise, supported by the intense and honest look on his face brought tears to her eyes, and she made a move to snuggle one last time in his hand.

"You can rest now." He told her gently, witnessing the smile fade from her face, the unique light in her eye throbbing one last time before disappearing entirely.

The boy moved against him, tiny arms and legs finally moving from the heat his father had engulfed him in. Raising to his feet, the man carefully held his child, his gaze following back to the mother's body.

In the following minutes, Dio wrote a letter to an undertaker he knew, a man he could trust to remain silent, indicating the address of the boy's mother, and requesting that she's be buried properly. He gave the letter to a little boy from the slums, asking him to send it to its receiver for a generous amount of money, and promising the boy more if a letter was sent back to him by said undertaker.

As the child ran as quickly as he could, Dio heard the baby whimper against him, then cry openly. It was a strong, liberating cry as if he had been reborn. The clouds dissipated, allowing the sun to bathe them in a gentle haze, a halo of light. That was when Dio knew the name of his son.

He would be Giorno, son of Dio, and he would be raised under the sun and the world would celebrate his life as Dio silently celebrated it.

----

So, I hope I made at least one person feel sad with the last bit. Did I?

I did a bit of math (shocking I know), and George II is probably born in November 1888, if he was conceived around April 1888. Obviously, I made him arrive 2 years later but decided to keep the November birth month. Rejoice, November babies!

I also know very well that Giorno's real mom is, to say the least, not good. In here, I decided to give her more humanity, to make her a good mother for the few days she was one.

Dio is, as you probably notice, not as much of an asshole as he is in the manga! He still has his flaws, like going around and sleeping with people, probably having some secret cult or whatever, and he acts cold towards his family, but he loves the Joestar. Really.

[booksteaandtoomuchtv]

A Year Without (7/?)

Summary: After the curse returns Killian to the Enchanted Forest, he struggles to acclimate to his old life and his old ways. When a bird with a letter and memory potion arrives on his ship, he accepts the challenge to find Emma and help her save her family. Getting to Emma won't be easy and will cost him dearly, but what choice does he have when he cannot go a day without memories of her haunting him?

A03 | CH  1  |   2  |   3  |  4  |  5  |  6  |  7  |  8  |  9  |  10  | CUTS

Day 194

"Lady Bell," Hook spoke into the emptiness of his quarters. She could be anywhere in the realm, so he tried to keep busy while he waited, listening carefully for any indication she would answer his summons. 

He set out two lowball glasses, pouring a generous amount of rum into them both. He arranged the chairs, so it would be clear to Tink that this was a business request and not another clumsy proposition. 

He owed her some apologies for attempting to forget another woman in her arms when she'd first arrived in Storybrooke. His jaw clenched as he worried that she hadn't answered yesterday's summons and likely would not answer tonight's due to that little encounter. 

Hook let out a resigned sigh and settled into his chair, furthest from the one he'd pulled out for Tink and closest to his bed. He propped his feet on the low cabinets, boots crossed, as he gazed out the windows. Despite himself, he knew he was looking for any hint of bright green light to indicate that Tink had received and accepted his request. 

Only the stars were twinkling in the night sky before him. 

He refilled his glass and nursed the heavily-spiced rum while he continued his fruitless sentinelling. His thoughts drifted as the liquor began to spread through his body, cheeks flushing and limbs relaxing. 

He pulled her into him, his hook low on her hip and his hand twisted in her hair. He'd made the motion confidently, despite his pulse pounding in his ears. Yet, she hadn't pulled back. She'd complied, more really, eagerly stepping into his touch. She'd still had the slightest hint of rum on her tongue from his flask. Every sip of rum since served as a reminder and a disappointment. 

"Pensive tonight, aren't you?" a bright voice almost sang from behind him, shattering his thoughts around him and dragging him into the present. 

"Lady Bell," Hook stood, turning to face her. 

"Good evening, Hook." Tinkerbell replied, "I've heard all kinds of interesting stories about your return." She cocked her head, openly studying him as if she could determine which stories were true by observing him. 

"You've got your wings back," Hook replied.

"You called me here."

"Aye."

"So, you knew that I'd gotten my wings back."

"I had hoped," he began.

"Well, isn't that something?" Tink interrupted with a knowing smile. She gestured to the untouched glass on the table, "is that a bribe?" 

"Actually, I had wanted to ask if you'd be able to assist with something," he confessed, as he reach to scratch behind his ear.

Tink shot him a suspicious look, lips pursed and eyes filled with warning. But, she waited for him to continue.

"I need passage into the Fae lands." His words sounded more like a confession than a request. He watched as the annoyance faded into confusion before she settled on mildly curious.

"Why?" 

"I am on the trail of Captain Sparrow's lost treasure."

Her eyes narrowed, "why?"

"It is treasure, love. And, I am a pirate." 

"You're asking to enter the lands of the Fae. Which is it, Hook? Revenge or love?" she studied him, once more. 

"Oh, I see," she murmured. 

His only response was a raised eyebrow and a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Day 200

"Here?" Hook asked, scanning the sea around him - for that is all there was, water. Everywhere he looked, only the curve of the horizon met his eye. No waves breaking in a new pattern, no hazy change in colour, no shadows in the water to hint at land. "You know this for certain?" 

Tink sighed, but kept her eyes focused ahead, "The lands are glamoured and warded. Did you think I stayed because I enjoy your company?"

"Most women do," he said, voice deeper. She knew if she turned to face him, he'd have a flirtatious smirk plastered on his face. She also knew that his eyes would give him away for the pretender he was. 

She'd read on his face everything he'd not said that first evening. He was traipsing into these dangerous lands and risking his life for love. She hadn't figured out how he thought the fabled treasure would reunite him with Emma Swan, but she had no doubt this was a gamble, a desperate one at that, to see her again. 

She shook her head since he could not see her eye roll and focused on taking down the wards to allow their passage.

"Keep moving forward," she directed him. 

"Aye," he replied, the teasing stripped from his voice. 

A comfortable quiet settled between them as they worked, her untangling the wards and him keeping the ship sailing toward land he could not see.

“Bloody…,” Hook said under his breath, as vibrant blue and green cliffs rose out of the water, blocking the horizon on either side of the ship, the sea squeezed, winding out of sight between them.  

The wind suddenly changed course, causing the Jolly Roger to jerk viciously in his grasp. He gave her a moment to adjust to the new waters, to get comfortable with the sudden and strange winds in her sails, and to settle between the land, pressing heavily on them from both sides, before he firmly took hold of the wheel to guide her the centre of the straight and continued to navigate her toward the dangers lurking in the heart of the Fae Lands.

Day 201

Hook hadn’t traded his long coat for court finery. But, he’d polished his boots until they would have passed inspection in his navy days. He may mingle among the fae lords tonight; but, he didn’t want those around him to forget the reputation he’d earned as a dangerous pirate captain.

The court was grand, but his eyes were drawn to the others in attendance at tonight’s soiree. Gowns spun from the petals of night blooming flowers, dark vests embroidered with thread spun from fallen stars, the fae themselves were achingly beautiful. 

"For strength," Tink handed him a glass filled with a sparkling yellow liquid from a nearby table. She raised a matching glass toward him before emptying the contents in one long sip.

He took a measured sip of the sweet drink as he followed Tink. Instantly, he was filled with a lightness that he hadn’t felt since before his brother died. After a second sip, his thoughts became dreamlike, the fairy spirit quickly spreading through his body. 

Tink made an introduction between the pirate and the fae lord. Hook bowed his head at the high ranking fairy, the movement tilting the world a bit. When he returned his gaze to the fae, he was vaguely aware the creature was speaking to him about Sparrow. 

He narrowed his eyes to focus on the words the fae was certainly directing at him. 

You know, Jack's compass is meant to point you directly to the desire of your heart.

The words seems to slide away, Hook heard the sounds leaving the fae but could not grasp at the words. He sipped at the sweet drink, frustration leaving his body instantly. 

Hook saw a streak of curls the colour of sunlight in the corner of his gaze. He turned, eyes darting, to find the woman that hair belonged to, but he could not find the curls again.

Tink murmured for him to slow his drinking as she lead him into a conversation with a new member of the court. The translucent wings warping the scene behind the fairy like a kaleidoscope. Hook watched, transfixed. 

He heard his name upon her lips, not Hook, but his name spoken in her beautiful voice. He knew that she would not call him Killian, but his heart raced at how lovely it sounded. She wasn't here, he needed to calm down, he took another sip of the drink. His heart stopped hammering; he felt calm again. 

Was that a new fae? He would have noted the twisted purple and silver horns, surely.  Jack was a clever pirate. He has treasures hidden in the most delightfully devious places. 

A feather soft tail brushed his cheeks, his lips, a musical voice spoke words that seemed to move around him. 

The creature of past, present, future would be the only one who can help.

The music was captured his attention, the melody euphoric. He'd never felt such levity at the pluck of strings. He heard her laugh, carefree and loudly. A laugh he’d never heard but dreamt of one day pulling from her. 

He finished his drink. She was everywhere.

Yet, he didn't find her until sleep claimed him that night.

Day 202

“You will have to go to the glade on your own, but you have been granted one question for one memory.”

Hook grimaced, “it wouldn’t happen to be one I wished to forget.”

Tink frowned back at him before confirming what he already knew, “it’ll be your most precious memory. You won’t even know it is gone; which is final cruelty and mercy. There won’t be a gap or dream that you just cannot restore, but you will never have known the comfort and peace of whichever moment they devour.”

Hook’s jaw muscles twitched, as he marched forward alone into the glade. He stepped through the trees, the land gently sloping before him and the trees closing tightly behind him as he passed. 

The air stopped moving, the birdsong suddenly muted, as he walked toward the unnatural, dense fog suspended before him. He took a bracing breath before stepping into the heavy, grey wall.

He stepped forward, prepared to be soaked through by the moisture in the fog. The air was cold, as expected, but dry. He shook his head and scoffed, “of course.”

Before him was the fae creature that he sought. Past, present, and future wrapped in one skin. The creature was much like the alder trees he’d stepped through, pale with papery skin with spotted with lichen. 

Orange eyes, uninterrupted by black pupils, peered out at him from a face with elongated features. “What you seek will require a price that you may not wish to pay.”

“I know the cost.”

The creature chuckled, dry and crackling as autumn leaves, “you think us cruel for requiring a mere memory from you, yet that will not be the loss for which you suffer.”

The cryptic words were meant to tempt and distract him from the one question for which he’d bartered. “I am not here to ask for my future.”

“No, you sought us out for information on an ancient compass. A compass that leads one to their heart’s desire. A compass that is lost to time, lost to the realms, but nothing is lost to us, is it dear?” They were mocking him, face twisted in cruel smiles while they spoke.

“Stop your games. Tell me, how will I recover Jack Sparrow’s compass?” He demanded. 

“Ooh, this one wants to bite us,” they teased, “Remove your hand from that hilt, you wouldn’t want us to feel threatened.”

He clenched his jaw tightly, forcing himself into a more relaxed stance, hand pulled away from his cutlass. He scraped his teeth over his bottom lip, biting his lip to prevent the question from falling from his lips again. Even if he managed to word it exactly the same, it would still be a second question, an unknown price to pay. 

“Clever, Pirate,” they spat at him, “how much longer will that disguise suit you? Does it chafe?” They moved closer with every question, their branch-like nose brushing against his cheek, the last words whispered in his ear, “knowing you aren’t the man that you were?”

He didn’t move, their annoyance meant he was close to getting the answer he needed. He didn’t answer; he didn’t breathe.

“The compass, then,” they snapped, “it has been lost in the sands of a city that has fallen and risen again. A kingdom that belongs to the sea, once more."

“That was not the question, creature.” 

They hissed at him, “you forget yourself.”

“You have forgotten our agreement,” he stepped forward, hand returned to his hilt. 

They retreated, orange eyes watching him carefully. 

"You will uncover the compass following what you seek in the city that has been lost,” they bared their teeth at him as he chewed over their words, “they will collect their payment, now, pirate who is more than a pirate.”

A long, thin finger, bent and gnarled, tapped his temple gently twice. 

Pain radiated from the spot, he grunted as he fell to his knees, eyes squeezed tight. He clutched at his head, hoping the pain would stop. It stopped as suddenly as it had begun, everything seemed to have gone completely still. He wasn’t certain which memory they had claimed from him, but the deed seemed to have been done as he left the glade.

But he’d never again recall the words, the melody, or his mum’s beautiful singing when she’d soothed him for the very last time.

TAGS: @kazoosandfannypacks @cosette141 @kmomof4

[talesofealdancynedom]

Delphia in casual cloths; All hexes included!

34. The Green Letters (chapter 3 - Grand Gesture 3/4 ) part 8. Stories of Dreams.

none

When Cetus got home, he immediately grabbed a ballpoint from the junk drawer. Cetus was suddenly excited to write his letter. The world nearly disappeared as he sat at the dining table with his looseleaf.

“Cetus are you actually writing to dad?” Morgan asked. He had been sitting there with a pot of tea the whole time. It was the one with the Nordic tea-cozy’s Cetus knitted.

“Oh tea!” Cetus jumped, grabbing a cup. “Nothing like a beverage with creative projects!”

“True. But, um, uncle I have-”

“Your father wishes you well; Apparently Queen Odette is coming. I asked really nice if I could attend; To make sure your father’s a changed man. Well, as much as an abuser can change.” Cetus smiled starting the letter. “This whole party planning is making me wonder if our friendship is worth slowly reforging. How do you feel about him and the ceremony these days?”

“Ambivalent? Look, uncle Cetus-”

“Oh, that’s good; Not caring is a solid foundation for caring. Speaking of caring, do you have any ideas on how to get Delphia to the ranch safely? There aren’t any available paladins. Also, this Kjatin guy Delphia mentioned, just got uninvited. That makes me, best uncle.”

“Uncle Cetus! I don’t care about the wedding, and I’m recovered enough to meet my dad! I have bigger fish to fry; Delphia is missing! Emilia found her bloody wizard robes, and snapped wand, in a trunk while looking for my left socks!” Morgan yelled. He was hyperventilating, and had gone pale. Cetus dropped his pen, but was too late as Morgan feinted onto the carpet.

 “Dear Odysseus Cynedom,

Do you know if me and Jupiter can go to the wedding yet? Since you’re an uncle short? Also, what about Emilia attending?

I think I’m ok to see you and my sister again; Maybe share existential dread over some spiced wine. Remember when the kids were little, and I kept falling off the horse on your ranch? Or when you came over here, and we made our kids wear me and Icthya’s matching clothes? I want it to be like that. I’m not sure I can forgive you, or anyone can. But I don’t want to spend forever hating a family member. Ignore the historical re-enactments; This is an opportunity! I’ll even knit you something.

However, I agree about Delphia; She seems to have changed this year. This place has that effect on people. I think it’s the abundance of Happily Ever Afters. Maybe their contagious.

Between Cadence, employment, and the wedding, Morgan seems to be stressed. I can tel,l because I haven’t received a hug in a while. But I think he’ll be ok.

Also, haven’t seen Kjatin, but Delphia is missing; Everyone is keeping an eye out. Morgan is trying to make her some protective clothes, since my daughter’s out of town. Reggie became a fine Warlock; I’m so proud.

 Best,

Cetus”

********

Delphia felt the Shadow Veil rip the sensation from her body. She felt like an apparition, in a hauntingly quite grayscale photo; Blurred edges and all. Her heart loudly throbbed, as she looked for the only thing that could provided sensation: Magic. Knowing nothing, Delpia had entered the Rat Kingdom door of Tiberius Gate’s wall. She looked around the tall silver wheat, gripping the hem of her gown. She tripped over a rope, and hear a snap from the brush. Fear had taken her, and Delphia’s bones froze.

“Who is it?” a sharp voice sounded. A large brown rat with golden eyes and a dazzling crown stood up, over her.

“D, Delphia Torchblood.” She quivered.

“What is a Commoner doing here?”

“I, I come to be on good terms with all of magic. To show my support for your brother Morgan.” She stuttered. Delphia’s Witch training was tested, as she remained calm; A lethal overflow of ether was around the corner.

“So, you’re that Witch hired by wizards that kill my children? The dame who unthreads the sanctity of my brother’s True Love Spell?” The Rat King screeched.

“No. I’ I’ve changed. I’ll never be-”

“I hear you’ve got a silver tongue; How about a better one? I of stealth and riddles, fancy the ways of words. Want to help mine brother, and prove yourself to magic? Have this curse of persuasion, in hopes you may also get gifts of half us kings. Then maybe we’ll consider you a friend. Now, be careful what you say!” The Rat King cackled, grabbing her roughly. The hex burned. As tears welled from Delphia’s face. She began to glow, barely keeping dark at bay, vigorously nodding in compliance.

Dashing down the mountain, and through the songs of mythic birds, Delphia aimed for The Fairy Kingdom. The Fairy King can make robes that guard against spell and blade; And fairies are Morgan’s favourite fey. But instead, Delphia tumbled into the vibrant Tree Kingdom. Everything had colour and whispered; Every inch of this fjord was a living fey. Still glowing and brewing a fever, Delphia continued South. Only to run into a tall woman, of oak skin and a crystal flowered crown.

“You’ve made it far. Seems one of my brothers has cursed you.” She said.

“Yes, um, I’m just here trying to make friends. Are you the Tree King? It’s nice to meet you. I ask no gift from you, as your children have already given me so many.” Delphia charmed.

“All who meet me get a gift! Here.” The Tree king said, pulling a deep violet plum from her crown, and feeding it to Delphia. She had taken insult by the refusal of her charity, given her face.

“This will make you poison to anything that Morgan doesn’t love. You isolated him from his supports, now it’s your turn.” She scowled.

“But I stopped that! Morgan needs his family! I care! That’s why I’m here; To show I can support him, and genuinely care for everyone’s interests.” Delphia yelled into the woods, as the Tree King left. “I just-” Delphia teared. She was so confused; The Tree King was supposed to be the sweetest of them all.

The flow of magic weakened Delphia as she wept; Still heading to the frosted Fairy Kingdom. Arriving, she curled up under a swirling ice bridge, by the sleeping naiads. Her head in her knees, Delphia tried to stay calm. Her state could kill her, but it would not be a grand quest if it was easy.

“Delphia?” A sweet voice chimed. In the reflection of the creek, was a large pale lady in glittering chiffon, with three crystal butterfly wings. A crown of ice and flushed cheeks. The scent of winters dawn.

“Hello Fairy King. I hope Morgan said good things about me?” Delphia sniffed.

“He didn’t say much actually. But I can tell you are dedicated to questing; You’re really holding on in here! I bet you came to me for Fairy Robes, to stop the rangers my children gossip about.”

“Actually, I come for friendship. But I’d never say no to that offer.” Delphia said. Focusing on the brilliance of the Fairy King, brought sensation to her. Delphia cooled slightly. Then the Fairy King tossed a black horned tiara at her.

“Fairy Robes! But only Morgan can put them on. I’d hate to see him suffer if someone he knew died. Humans are touchy about that.” The Fairy King giggled. Delphia held the tiara; This is supposed to protect me?

“Yes, your highness! I’ll put it to good use. Or I guess he will…” Delphia nodded, getting up. Her noose bled onto the white muslin slip, but it only looked black in the colourless veil. Bowing, Delphia left to entice more kings before she succumbed.

The Dragon King curled around his mountain throne; Visible from every inch of the Shadow Veil. The most powerful of Beast Kings. But Delphia got distracted by the beach she’d only seen in paintings; The Fish Kingdom. Why the chime of sea daughters drew her like a Northland sailor. She made the mistake of touching the tide with her toes. Delphia was pulled in by the Fish King; A bodacious mermaid with a ghostly flowing silhouette, like an ill koi. Delphia eased, as the water cooled her rising temperature. She gasped at the surface, as The Fish King let go.

“Hello Fish King! How are you this day? I’m just admiring your children’s voices, and seeking good relations.” Delphia smiled faintly.

“No, you’re not. You’re a dumb girl with unrequited love, torn from home, and putting your life in danger to impress your in-laws. Did you stop to think how Morgan might feel if he learned a friend was in danger? Or are you still only focused on yourself?”

“Please don’t curse me, I’m trying my best and agree with your evaluation.”

“But I love a good curse! I’ll make you a flawless as a pearl. Desired by many, but only loving one. You can consider yourself initiated into my kingdom of bloodthirsty radiant maidens. See, I’m not as inconsiderate of human nature as my siblings. Humans adore being desirable, yes?” The Fish King smiled, beaching Delphia by the cliffs. She hadn’t climbed rocks so fast in her life. She loved magic, but now understood why some feared it.

Delphia was most excited to meet the Dragon King. She’d reached the mountain top, and fidgeted as she looked around. He’d given her people magic houses, and thus her ability to learn wizardry. The ability to love magic as a mage would. But things were getting blurry. Delphia decided to lay on the marble slopes to catch her breath. She wondered if she should turn back, but it went black before she decided.

<---PREVIOUS

[espresso-lessdepresso]

Hello Sofi! The lovely anon

I’ve just read all your messages and seeing as you wanted to be anonymous, I’ll simply reply though here without directly replying to your ask and without disclosing your account.

 I feel like a 40 year old woman that has to sit down with her coffee and glasses to read the story her favorite writer just dropped.

Honestly, I feel very similar, in the sense that, whenever I’m writing, I’m in some alternate universe where I’m pursuing writing and am writing to publish some book of mine :] 

I’ve also read your comments beside writing and I hope you’re doing okay, it’s a tough year especially all the weird and sad situations going on that hit like a truck but remember that you followers and me are here to support you. You can talk to me about anything you need, I’ll always be here to help you, it’s the least I can do as a big fan of yours.

It has been a rough year for most if not all of us. On top of personal family issues, my writer's block and depression seem to be wombo comboing my ass for the past few months. Evident by the lack of new works on this blog as well as the second chapter of The Cage that I had promised. I really appreciate how understanding and thoughtful you are ^^ I should be back on my usual habit hopefully soon. 

And I am so thankful that you took the time to read my letter and you loved it and will save it, it meant not only the world but also the whole entire galaxy to me. I meant every word I said and will keep on sending lovely asks because you absolutely, with no shadow of a doubt, deserve them. ILY, stay safe my love and sending all good and calming vibes your way <333

Gosh, this is all so sweet I don’t know how to express how grateful I am. I truly am! Your kind and sweet messages haven’t failed to brighten my day whenever I’ve received them. THANK YOU <3

hihihii !! it’s me again, the lovely anon lol. You can call me sofi btw if you want to :D. So I’m coming with another message, sorry if they bother but I really like writing them and idk, it just feels right.

I’m very much fine with such kind messages so no need to shy away! In a way, it is nice to interact with my readers and know a bit about them and what they think about my writing. Lol, it feels less like I'm putting my writing out into the void and more like to people with similar interests and likings. 

Anywayssss, so yesterday I was listening to Conan Gray and I had this weird awakening, while listening to ‘Memories’ I remembered the dialogue you wrote, the one where the reader was left alone and GOD. I read it while listening and it fitted so well, I firmly believe you just have a way to convey so many emotions into one scene like a full on movie script and like I get this tight feeling on my chest, so sad and prominent that only REALLY GOOD STORIES make me have.

I like writing just dialogue because unlike the other proper stories, which have settings, dialogue, descriptions, etc, etc.- the reader gets to make and take away from the dialogue as much or as little as they want to. Like, sprinkle your brain glitter on it and make it as emotionally harrowing as you want ^^ 

I listened to Memories and oh my god, I did not know that there would be a song so fitting to this dialogue as this is! This song has like 90% of what my thought process consisted of when I was writing D4. This is just so wild and interesting I'm like all giddy and frazzled. And once again, thank you so much. My writing is almost always self-indulgent and with this, I’m very happy and satisfied that the emotions I was feeling were able to transfer into my writing. Please I hope you had some chocolate after the pain that my writing inflicted!!! I can’t lose my readers!!! 

If I could add and expand, the rest of the 10% that I wanted to convey into the writing of D4 was... anger accompanied by betrayal. In my mind, the ‘reader’ in D4 struggles with abandonment and attachment so being left all alone, a lot of hurt and confutation was laced into the last dialogue. 

That’s you power, absolutely incredible. I cannot stress enough about how amazing you are, seriously you’re super cool and I hope you know that whatever you come up with I just love it so much. Even the small and insignificant make such a difference for me, also you made want to pick up a story I left long forgotten before I started college. It’s just idk, you reminded me how sweet it is to step back and write something cute and warm (I’m a film student, most scripts I write are horror lmao) so thank you so much for that, hope you’re getting better everyday. Stay safe, ily and sending you all the good vibes <333

Hearing all of this motivates me so much to write and makes my brain brrr like there's no tomorrow. 

I’m glad that you’ve reconnected with your own writing <3 If you ever post your writing online, I would love to read them! I enjoy reading horror, mostly Stephen king for now (I hope to explore), so if your horror scripts are ever posted as well, link me! 

I apologise for such a late reply. I hope you are doing well! All the good vibes to you too and I hope you take care Sofi <3 !!!

I just realized I wasn’t hitting the anon button all this time 💀 now you know my secret identity

Hmm, it seems that I have spontaneously forgotten the name of your account and now your online identity will remain an absolute mystery ;] 

[versadies]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* YOU HAVE RECEIVED A LETTER, LET’S SEE WHAT’S INSIDE! *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

salutations: WRATH (villain!darling sagau part 2)

content: spoilers to mondstadt - inazuma archon quests, violence, angst/no-comfort, heavily religious themes

note: tysm to those who love my first ever sagau fic esp to @nicebonescomrade who is an amazing writer ! feel free to check out their fics <<3

penpals: @creation-magician , @creatorofstars , @victoria1676 , @I-chaan, @pyromaniam , @sweet-seraphim , @h3apm3ch4n151m , @heehoe, @moon--kitty, @yukete , @ognenniyvolk, @strawberrychan0

part one | part two (here!)

…

there had been reports from adventurers claiming that there were no signs of hilichurls and abyss for weeks now.

the imposter had been long gone for what felt like months. everyone was more than happy that they had successfully defended their divine god’s identity with all their might and served justice to the sinner, who’s probably dead by now.

everyone concluded that the abyss disappearing was a good thing for the city - especially for the acting grandmaster jean, who was more than happy that she has less things to worry about now.

people started roaming around the nation of freedom without any worries besides wild creatures like wolves. hunters can easily hunt for boars without facing a hilichurl or abyss mages, adventurers can no longer worry about encountering those ruin guards and hunters in destroyed ruins, and dragonspine felt a little more safe now that there were no more frostarm lawachurls.

it felt like this was a gift from their grace that they oh-so worshipped to.

venti had also thought that this was a reward from the divine creator themselves for banishing the fiend imposter that dared to commit such blasphemy, only to think otherwise when the winds stopped talking to him.

everywhere venti goes, he could no longer feel the winds unlike before. although it was still there, it felt as though it had been ignoring venti for something.

he didn’t fail to notice the fact that dvalin and andrius have also disappeared, leaving the worried bard alone with mondstadt’s obliviousness to the situation.

just what is the cause behind all of this?

without any wind to talk to, venti could no longer keep on track on his long old friend who took care of the imposter and banned them from liyue as well.

not to mention the fact that there are three cases of people disappearing that caused the knights of favonius to panic.

venti was surprised to hear that kaeya, albedo, and klee have all disappeared. no one didn’t even see or recall anything regarding the three - especially from rosaria, sucrose, and timaeus, who were the closest to the two men who have disappeared.

although this case is most likely not involved, the bard couldn’t help but think that this must have something to do with the imposter.

so, venti decided to set out on a journey to visit liyue and check up on the retired geo archon, wanting to know if he too had faced such cases in his nation.

before he could step out of his beloved city, the winds suddenly grew stronger and harsh, causing everyone outside to stop what they were doing and process what’s happening.

it didn’t take long before venti heard the familiar sounds of dvalin’s roar.

“BARBATOS!” the bard felt his heart dropped from the voice of andrius, looking around the city in confusion. what is andrius doing here?

he then started to notice one of the men that mondstadt has been looking for, his eyes widens when he spots kaeya’s other eye that’s now exposed.

a shadow suddenly looms over venti, causing him to look up and see the spirit of andrius staring back at him with anger and hatred.

“you shall pay for the sins you’ve committed against our divine god.”

—

there had been reports from liyuean citizens that dogs have suddenly disappeared.

it was a strange occurrence indeed, but it wasn’t enough for zhongli to worry about. he thought that there was no need to intervene in such an incident that doesn’t endanger his city, thinking that the qixing and millelith can handle it on their own.

or so he thought.

not long after, there had also been reports from adventurers who claimed that there are no longer hilichurls or other monsters in sight – especially the infamous pyro regisvine and the primogeovishap themselves.

liyue was confused, surprised even. what is the cause of what one would consider..

a miracle?

the qixing then concluded that perhaps this was a sign from the divine creator themself as gratitude for defending their identity, causing everyone to cheer and consider this as a celebration.

as much as zhongli desires to send his prayers to his god as thanks for the kind gesture, he decided to check up on... a certain creature that he once considered as a friend.

when he visited the familiar cave that he and the traveler encountered, there were no signs of azhdaha around the place, much to his shock.

is this truly a blessing?

the retired archon could only think about how his divine creator must’ve been proud of his people and him for dealing with the sinner swiftly. just thinking about the praises he’d received from his creator makes his heart skip a beat.

“i wonder what happened that made you so happy, mr. zhongli.” childe spoke up with a smile as the two of them continued to dine in on wanmin restaurant’s finest dishes. “did you manage to win a lottery or something?”

despite what happened back then after faking his death, childe continued to hang out with zhongli much to his surprise (despite the huge tension around them).

though, he has to admit, the tension between him and the harbinger has grown.. stronger.

the consultant lets out a chuckle. “it is much better than winning a lottery, childe.” he replies, taking a sip of his tea before he continues, “have you heard of an imposter visiting liyue with the face of our divine creator?”

childe laughs. “oh i see now. you must’ve been proud of your people when they pushed the imposter to the sea.”

zhongli couldn’t help but shift a bit in his seat, feeling suspicious with the tensed atmosphere.

“i must say, i feel a bit jealous that the creator became generous with your nation. snezhnaya on the other hand became colder than ever.” childe commented, paying no mind to the consultant’s gestures.

it took a few moments of silence before zhongli spoke up again.

“...what is your reason for coming back here, childe?”

the harbinger continues to smile. “what do you mean? i just came here to see if the rumors are true, of course!”

“surely the tsaritsa would’ve given you another task to do, aren’t i right?” zhongli retorts, copying childe’s expression. “you would’ve come back to your home right now since the celebration has come to an end.”

“oh, but i’m not here just for your celebration!” childe exclaims, letting out an amused laugh.

the consultant furrowed his eyebrows. “what do you mean?”

“i’m talking about our god’s celebration, of course!”

as soon as those words slipped from the harbinger’s mouth, zhongli suddenly felt the ground shaking, now noticing how the sky has grown dark along with how the waves of the sea have grown stronger than ever.

it can’t be.

as everyone started panicking in realization that the harbor is in danger, childe could only laugh manically.

“you got me, mister zhongli,” he spoke up, standing up from his seat as everyone starts to evacuate.

“just so you know, i actually only came here to see the look on your face when you realized that you are no longer wanted by our divine creator.” he explains, watching as zhongli’s eyes widens in horror at the sight of osial rising once more.

“after all, it’s what you deserve for harming our grace.”

---

ei could only frown from the memory of the thunder manifestation saving the imposter from her wrath.

has the manifestation been fooled by the imposter and think that they’re their beloved creator? she wondered to herself, pacing back and forth in her plane of euthymia as her prototype-self deals with the aftermath of the failed attempt of the imposter’s execution.

not to mention the fact that yae miko had recently come up to the archon regarding a concerning amount of reports related to inazuma’s... change of state.

it confused ei that yae would come up to her just to bring up something the tenryou commission can handle on their own, only to think otherwise when she first read the documents.

some had reported about how the rain in yashiori island has returned once more, only this time it had begun to grow stronger and unstoppable. some had reported about how tsurumi island’s fog had returned as well and became bigger to the point where it had almost reached the rest of the islands. one had also mentioned about how the legendary maguu kenki has started to move away from his arena, killing anyone that comes out of its way to an unknown destination.

what made ei decide to come out was a certain document that mentioned both mondstadt and liyue’s troubles, all going through similar things as inazuma.

the thought that maybe, just maybe that the imposter that she had almost killed with her own hands was the very being that made her pursue eternity almost brought ei down on her knees in regret.

it can’t be them. she thought, her heart beating rapidly as she heads to the road that will take her to ritou and visit liyue —

she stops her tracks when a sudden explosion appears by the entrance of inazuma city.

“guards, head towards the commotion now!” she yelled and continued running once more, hoping that it was just an accidental experiment from yoimiya and nothing super serious as the guards followed her.

by the time she arrived, her eyes landed on yours.

there you were, standing in front of the huge smoke with a dull look on your face. no longer was the imposter disguised as someone else with the help of a cloak,

now stood the divine creator themself amidst the chaos around them and ei, whose breath hitches in realization and regret.

“you..” you spoke up, your voice now confident and vengeful instead of frightened and weak as you walked towards the archon. “you are a disgrace to teyvat for performing an execution against your god.”

ei’s heart tightens from the words you said that once slipped from her lips during your execution, now knowing that she had indeed messed up badly.

“do you remember me, ei?” you ask, walking towards the woman as the golden wolflord comes out from the smoke with rifthounds following, causing everyone to panic from the sight of the beasts that belong to the tsurumi island.

ei stood still, her hands shaking. of course she remembers you.

“tell me, did you remember when the kamisato clan offered me to you as i beg for your mercy?” you ask again, bringing out a sword that she used to try and execute you.

ei didn’t bother asking where you had gotten that sword.

“i… i didn’t know any better.” ei spoke up, slowly walking backwards as you come closer and closer. “i didn’t know it was really yo—”

“no one did!” you yelled, ignoring the lightning that suddenly struck down the city from your outburst. “no one bothered to think that i wasn’t an imposter - you didn’t even let me explain myself!”

the woman felt her posture falter, her heart couldn’t handle the fact that she had disappointed you, the very being that gave her a reason to not give up.

“forgive me.. forgive me your grace—”

“you have no right to call me that anymore, you’ve lost your right as an acolyte.”

her lips quivered, her weapon dropped to the ground. “please, give me another chance, your grace! i regret my foolish decision in mistaking you as an impo—”

you let out a loud laugh. “and why should i give you a chance when you haven’t given me one before? you and the rest of the archons are indeed fools!”

ei’s shoulders began to tense from the sounds of her people screaming and crying out for help as rifthounds attacked them. she should’ve known better- she shouldn't have believed those fools from the kamisato clan—!

she held her breath when you suddenly placed your finger under her chin, making her realize that you’re now in front of her.

you then made her look up to your eyes, the eyes that are now glowing gold instead of the original color of your orbs.

you grinned. “maybe I can forgive you and your pathetic city... when you’re on your knees and beg like the filthy dog you are~”

[sailorhyunjinz]

~ 𝕋𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕡𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 ~

Part I

© sailorhyunjinz 2021; Rights Reserved

All picture rights to their respective owners.

ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥: Photographer!hyunjin, fem!model!reader, manager!Bangchan, stylist!Jisung, agedup!straykids, SMUT IN LATER PARTS, fluff, character driven story, strangers to lovers, summer au, mentions of insecurity, love at first sight.

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 3,5 k  

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: I have never written a series before so please understand if it’s lacking heh... and yes the title does relate to the kooks song with the same title so do give it a listen because it’s really good and fits the story c: 

also this starts slowly LMAO MORE FUN THINGS ARE COMING UP I SWEAR <33

If you have any feedback I’m more than happy to receive it! <3

Taking pictures of you - MASTERLIST

ONE｜TWO｜THREE

Working as a model was not easy. The complaining managers and the expectations by others was too much to handle. Heck, even getting to the shooting locations was a hastle most of the time. 

You tilted your head against the window in the backseat of the taxi. It was a calm august wednesday. The late summer breeze made it’s way into the cab thorugh the window that was opened on the drivers side. Your phone screen lit up, multiple notification from Instagram. 

“omg! slay bbygrl”

“her face is crazy pretty”

“beautiful”

You’ve heard these words too many times. If you’re told the same thing over and over again they eventually mean nothing. You scrolled through the other comments on your latest instagram post, a photo from your last photoshoot. A picture of you lying in a bed of white flowers, your skin glowing and your body covered by a white sheer dress that accentuated your neck. It’s not a bad photo but was I really worth the attention? “There are a thousands of other girls way prettier than me.” you though and with a sulken expression you watched life run by outside the window. 

15 minutes later you arrived at your agency. You smiled your model smile at the taxi driver to which he smiled back and responded: “My pleasure, miss y/n”.

A big shadow was cast from the building in which the modeling agency was. The beige renaissance building was surrounded by green bushes and a black fence. The big oak entryway had golden lion knockers and an ingraved golden sign. “Eccellente Modeling Agency” it said with bold black letters, contrasting nicely with the gold plate. You rang the doorbell next to the sign and in a matter of seconds the oak gates opened with a loud creak.

“Y/n!! You look stunning as always!” said your manager Bangchan as he hugged you. The smell of his aftershave violated your olfactory sense as usual, making you scrunch your nose. He was always dressed business casual, his white polo shirt and light brown dress pants being a good example but today his poloshirt had a great amount of buttons unbuttoned. 

The both of you made your way into his office. A room with a high ceiling and a chandelier worth more than your career. You sat down in the leather couch across the desk, Bangchan sitting on the other side of it. 

“Give me a moment.... Just pulling up some files for the new photoshoot I’ve planned! I promise, you’re not gonna be disappointed.” he says smiling, the desktop screen reflecting in his brown eyes.

He turns his computer screen towards you. Your eyes scan the pictures that pop up. 

“May I present to you the profile of Hwang Hyunjin. One of the most renowned photographers of this age”. Bangchan looks at you, reading your expression. 

The pictures are truly beautiful. Everything, from the outfits to the lightning was perfect.

“Bangchan, you’re insane” you say, smiling widely as you made eye contact with the dark haired manager. “These pictures are so stunning!” you squeal. “How did you even get in contact with him?”

“Nothing for you to worry about y/n, I have my contacts. I’m a manager after all”. He scoffs whilst scrolling through the profile. The next picture getting better than the previous one.

“So... when is the shoot and what concept have you planned?” you say whilst your eyes are glued to the computer screen. 

“Mr, Hwang works for a multitude of companies but Styliz needed a model for their new pastel collection which I immedietly snatched onto. We all know how beautiful you look in pastels y/n” he said attentively to which you smiled, adoring the interest he has for his work. 

“Oh.. I also cheked your schedule and you seem free tomorrow so how about then?” he added. 

“Yes! I’d love too” you said with a small nod.

“Not that you have much choice, Mr Hwang’s time is worth gold y/n” he laughed and reached for something in his cabinet drawers.

“Here, take this” he said while sliding over a light grey business card.

‘Hwang Hyunjin, Photographer’ was written in dark grey letters. A black border decorating the edges of the card.

♡

The morning sun shined thorugh the curtains blinding you temporarily. You felt after your phone on the nightstand with you hand, your eyes still closed. ‘8:05 am’ the screen showed against the background picture of your family.

You missed them, moving to a different city across the country at the young age of 18 was scary. You’ve aged, that’s for sure but you still missed them dearly. Dragging your lifeless body to the shower you hope for a day with happiness whilst the warm water hits your bare skin. It was a big day after all. A photoshoot with photographer Hwang Hyunjin. “Me... on Hyunjins work? It must be a dream...” you thought, grabbing the towel hanging on the cold, silver rack.

You dryed off your thick hair with a light pink towel with one hand whilst the other hand held your phone. “I have to look at his photos again” you thought, tapping on the Instagram icon and typing “Hwang Hyunjin” in the search bar, hoping and praying that his work was published on the social media platform.

“@ photographerHwang” was the first result to pop up and you tapped it instantly being just as surprised as you were yesterday of the beauty that his photos carried. Bumping into the table on your way to the kitchen you noticed a different photo on his feed. It didn’t look like any of the other photos because it was a selfie. You dropped your towel on the floor. No... it can’t be him... or could it?

His face looked like a work of art. Not only was the photo nicely edited with warm light emitting from your screen but the person was even more eyecatching. “It’s probably one of his models” you though as you placed your phone on the kitchen counter and grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge.

But what if it’s really him?

♡

You threw on a grey hoodie and biker shorts before you flew out to the taxi waiting for you outside the apartment. 

“Sorry for keeping you waiting sir! Here!” you said while panting, quickly pulling up a text message you got from Bangchan sharing the location of the photoshoot. 

“Please, Miss y/n! No need to apologize” laughed the middle aged taxi driver softly. You were now on your way to the shoot. 

Your brain was scattered. One part of you hoped that Mr Hwang really was the boy you saw on his instagram. His long, blond locks slightly covering his sharp jaw. His skin clear as day and rosy lips plump like two rose petals. The other part shut everything down, convinced that it’s one of his models that happened to be to your liking. 

You opened his instagram page again. 

“He must be famous for his perfect features...” you said under your breath, staring at his lips.

The whole taxi ride was filled with thoughts of him, whoever he was. 

“Soon there miss y/n” the taxi driver said after 10 minutes of driving. The taxi slowed down and looking outside the window you saw Bangchan standing infront of a building that looked similar to the agency building. You waved slightly and he waved back at you.

You turned around to the driver and said; “Thank you so much sir”, giving him a generous tip and exiting the vehicle. A warm breeze latches on to you, making your hair flutter in the motions of the wind.

“Y/n! Perfectly on time” Bangchan said and hugged you.

You hugged him back, asking him about his day so far to which he responded;

“Good but going to be even better after this legendary photoshoot is done and we have the most perfect photos taken by the most influential photographer!” he sounded like a little child in a candy shop.

Your ears heated up due to his words and you smiled slightly.

“Let’s go to the second floor and get your outfit and makeup ready. A introduction with Styliz manager won’t be needed since he already knows your delightful personality” he laughed at his corny remarks and you did the same.

“You seem even more excited than me” you remarked, pressing the elevator button.

“When you see the end result you will be floored” Bangchan said and winked at you. 

The elevator clanged. “Second floor”. The metal doors slided open. The eyes of a dozen stylists and makeup artists caught onto you. A slightly potbellied man in a navy colored suit approached you.

“Y/n! I’m so happy to see work with you again.” His voice was hoarse due to his age but his personality being the total opposite. You knew him well since Styliz’s chief was one of the first to offer you a modeling job in a foreign city, you only being a teenager with a big dreams at the time.

“Mr. Styliz! It’s lovely to meet you again” you smiled and sat down in a makeup chair, a girl with blond hair and big hoop earrings starting to brush powder across your nose. You saw Bangchans figure leave behind a door in the reflection of the mirror. 

“Mr. Styliz, might I ask you a question?” You regretted the words as soon as the came out of your mouth. You didn’t need more information about the mysterious boy you saw on Hwang’s instagram page but you simply had to know who is was. 

“Well of course y/n” said Mr. Styliz, his warm breath touched your cheek as he stood right by your side, smelling of morning coffee and looking at you through the mirror. 

“Could I please get more information about Mr.Hwang?” you said, making eye contact with the old man. 

“y/n, you’ll meet him soon! Then you can ask him how much you would like about his life but I must warn you... He is quite the secretive type”. The coffee breath was accentuated as he laughed.

You tried to play along, laughing a fake laugh as the hair designer started to brush out your locks. A wave of embarrassment washed through you. 

The lights of the makeup mirror were getting hot, tiny sweat drops beading on your forehead which the makeup artist wiped off. 

“We are done, Miss y/n” said the makeup artist, her earrings reflecting the light in the studio. You thanked her and saw Bangchan standing at the door where the cameras were. 

“y/n, not much time left. Please go down the hallway and into the second door on your left, the stylist is in there fixing your outfit”. One reason as to why you loved Bangchan as your manager was his calm temper. Even in a time crunch, he always made sure to talk to you in a serene tone. After years in the modeling industry you still couldn’t get used to the ill-tempered staff. Too many times you had been forcefully dragged down corridors and streets whilst they muttered swear words at you. Even thinking about it sends shivers down your spine. 

Your shoes tapped the white linoleum as you made your way down the narrow hallway, knocking on the second door to your left just as Bangchan said. 

A familiar voice said; “Come in!” to which you turned the golden doorknob on  the white wooden door. The tall figure was rummaging in a big plastic container filled with clothes but upon your arrival the figure greeted you with warm eyes. 

“No way!! It’s y/n!” screeched Jisung. He pulled you in to a hug, his belt buckle hit your stomach through the grey hoodie. 

Jisung was a stylist and worked closely with Mr. Styliz therefore you’d gotten close to him. Not only did you like him for his exquisite fashion sense which had a whole different concept each time you saw him but also for his friendliness, always being polite. 

“I’ve missed you so much Jisungie” you said with a pout. 

“I though it was onesided but I guess not haha”

“Don’t be silly! How could I not miss that smile of your Sungie?” you hit him playfully on the arm to which he blushed. 

“Go behind that  and I’ll throw some clothes for you.” he pointed at the wooden divider standing in the corner of the white room filled with clothes racks and colorful clothing. 

You started undressing behind the divider and suddenly a pile of clothing was thrown on your head over the divider. You heard Jisung snicker at the yelp that came out of your mouth as you drowned in the clothes

“Jisung, you are so dead when I’m done” you said whilst putting on the last details to the outfit.

“I’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry” he said pleadingly while laughing hysterically. 

You stood on the podium infront of the full lenght mirrors in the room as Jisung observed you and pinned the clothes slightly. 

“Not gonna lie, it’s looks really good on you. The pastels matches perfectly with your skintone.” Jisung looked on the pleaded white skirt you had on. 

You looked in the mirror and shook your head in agreement. The pastel purple sweater with the white collar poking out made you look youthful and innocent. You had on patent mary jane shoes in the same purple color as your sweater. The white kneesocks were slipping down as you moved slightly, almost looking like a school girl as you bend down to lift the socks up. 

“Do you like it?” Jisung looked at you through the reflection on the mirror, standing on the floor making him a head shorter than you. 

“Yea! You’ve never given me a bad outfit Sungie, they’re always adorable. My favorite stylist but don’t tell that to Bangchan” you smirked to which Jisung laughed.

♡

“y/n, Jisung did a great job! You fit the concept to a tee” Bangchan stood infront of two wide dark green doors which led to the photostudio. He smiled shyly and pushed the doors open, a bright white light blinding you as you stepped in.

You squinted and held your hand infront of your eyes as you entered the studio, the air stuffy from all the white boxlights that have been working for a while.

“Miss y/n is here now, Mr. Hwang” Bangchan announced.

Your eyes felt blurry and the lights created a bokeh effect, your vision feeling like a filter. The first thing you saw was him. Hwang Hyunjin.

The shock froze your feet in one position. It was him. The selfie was Hyunjin. And he was hotter in real life.

A tall, slender figure stood on one foot, the other one behind his leg with the tip of the shoe pointing towards the floor. 

“Are you ready, miss y/l/n?”.

His voice was sweeter than honeysuckle, you melted upon hearing him speak. Bangchan looked at you confused when you didn’t move, just observing the presence of the blonde boy infront of you. 

“y/n?” Bangchan had a worried expression on his face as your face broke out in a massive blush. 

“yeah..uh-mm..yes” you only managed to get that out before you were infront of the camera. 

His willowy fingers wrapped around the black Canon camera, it fit perfectly in his hands as if it was made for him. You gulped upon seeing the veins that ran up his exposed arms, the white shirt bunched up by his elbows. 

“Everything good miss? You seem distant” he said in that raspy but sweet voice. 

“Uhm...yeah totally..” you looked awkward with your hands by your side as you saw Bangchan observing you with a confused gaze. 

“Please tilt your head to the right and stand broad with your feet” Hyunjin commanded to which you complied. The flash of the big studio lights didn’t effect you as much anymore since you were used to this but what did effect you was how concentrated Hyunjin looked. Like a true photographer. It was obvious that he enjoyed his job by the way his eyes shined when he looked at the monitor and corrected every detail. Luckily you could stare at his figure all that you wanted since it looked like you were keeping eye contact with the camera and not him. Glancing over to the left of the photographer you saw Bangchan smiling his bright smile, signaling that he’s proud over you. 

Flash

Flash

And another flash before Hyunjin looked at the monitor displaying the photos he just took, a smirk crept onto his face. 

“Good job y/l/n. Could you please grab that chair over there and sit on the edge of it?” he said whilst pointing towards a small wooden stool. Reacting instantly to his soft voice and gestures you pulled the stool towards the x on the ground, making sure you were in frame. 

“One leg over the other” Hyunjin said without even looking towards you, his pale veiny hands were now twisting and turning some buttons on both the camera and monitor. You shook your head up and down slightly in agreement before doing as told and as Hyunjin turned back his chocolatey brown eyes landed on yours. Now it was impossible to hide your burning cheeks, Hyunjin noticed since he laughed stiffly before grabbing the camera off the camera stand and going down on one knee to capture an angle from below. Numerous amounts of sparks from the big box lights were emitted and after every spark Hyunjin turned around to the screen which displayed your figure. Staring at him you smiled slowly, feeling your heart beat faster. Why do I feel like this by just looking at him? Your head was clouded with millions of other thoughts. Just as you started tuning out the room Hyunjin clapped his hands hard, the sound ringing in your ears. You jumped slightly which made Bangchan laugh.

“All done! Nice work everybody” Hyunjin announced loudly before bowing down to the other staff members in the room and to you as well. You returned his gesture by a slight bow of the head and quickly scurried of to Bangchan, your face hot.

“Are you sure you’re not ill?” Bangchan said softly before putting the back of his hand towards your forehead. Shaking your head from side to side you pushed his hand away. 

“No, I’m fine... just so hot with the box lights you know?” you laughed fumblingly, not knowing where to rest your gaze. 

You felt someone tap you on your left shoulder and you almost fainted when you turned around. Hyunjin was standing three footsteps from you, the scent of his cologne making you swoon. He smiled as he saw your shy expression and sparkling eyes.

“I though that it must have been hot, here have this”

He casually held out a waterbottle which you received with both hands as a gesture of thankfulness. 

“y/n, I’m just gonna head off to Jisung to discuss something. Meet me at the changing rooms in about 10, ok?” Bangchan said, slightly leaning towards your ear. 

“Yeah, see you in 10!” you said while the managers back disappeared through the broad doors of the studio. Turning back to Hyunjin his blond locks were draped infront of his eyes and as he spoke he tucked those light pieces behind his ear, revealing his small silver hoop earrings.

“I’m gonna pack up the cords now but it was a pleasure to work with you, miss y/l/n” 

The corners of your mouth went upwards at his formality.

“Please, call me y/n” you said quietly, being too shy to look him in the eyes.

“Sure, see you around y/n” Hyunjin said as he lifted up his hand to shake yours. His lanky fingers were filled with bold rings, many of which were designer. A slight panic rushed through your mind as you didn’t want to scare him away with your clammy hands. The sweaty hands and the churning of your stomach was all due to Hyunjin nearness. Hesitantly you streched the tips of your fingers against the blond haired boy and his hand emitted warmth when being met with your fingertips. He smiled before turning back, his eyes forming into half moons as charming dimples errupted on his lean cheeks.

You bowed to the other staff members on your way out of the building on your way to meet Bangchan and Jisung in the changing room. The waterbottle in your hand almost slipped as you took another clunck of the fresh water and that’s when you noticed something. Stopping in the hallway where the stylists room was located you inspected the waterbottle and saw a black marker scribble on the wrapper around the bottle. Upon removing it your heart stopped. Your knees could give up at any moment from the sheer shock. Am I losing my mind? A number was loosely doodled on the white plastic wrapper and underneath it there was a message. 

Call me 

// Hyunjin

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

@vogueinnie @that-anxious-bisexual @putmetogetheragain13 @hyunsluvv @lawleighette @meow-minho @minaamhh @ohmysparkle @hwangi @rindomo​ @fleeingreality @nycol-ie @jisungsplatforms

[dancingintheraindreamingonday]

A little wicked - Chapter 9

Author’s note: This will probably be the last chapter of my Bucky series. What a journey. Thanks to everyone!! 

Warning: Huge plot twist, that even I haven’t seen coming when I first wrote the story.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

„Do you wanna live in Delacroix?“, You ask Bucky as you set the table for dinner. 

“Why are you asking?”

“I saw how much you enjoyed your time there and we’re still looking for a house. So...why not looking there?” 

After you got kidnapped in your old house, Bucky refused to live there again. 

“I thought you loved the city life.” 

“I don’t really care anymore where we live as long as we live together.” 

„I’m really lucky to be your husband.“, Bucky kisses you but stoppes as he receives a call from Sam. „There was an attack at the GRC conference. Sam needs me.“

„Go. Be safe. And kick their asses.“, you smile weakly as Bucky leaves your flat. 

As soon as he left, you check your phone seeing the messages you received, warning you about the upcoming attack hours ago. 

After making sure that Alex is safe and he’s taken care of you leave your apartment as well. A car is already waiting for you, taking you to the building where the conference is being held.

~*~

You’re standing in the shadow watching Sharon, Bucky and Sam talking. You know that Sam and Bucky will have each other’s back. That’s why you only observe Sharon and eventually follow her. 

Batroc points a gun at Sharon demanding more money. Morgenthau points her gun at her too. 

You curse under your breath as you come out of your hiding and without any warning you shot Batroc straight in the head without shaking. Sharon and Morgenthau shot each other while the later is deadly injured. 

“You are a great actress, Sharon. I’m really impressed.”, you say as you put your gun away. 

“Why didn’t you tell me your plan? I warned your days before the kidnapping that they will come for you. I don’t understand it.”, Sharon got shot in her stomach, breathing hard. 

“I knew Hydra would come- sooner or later. They wanted Alex to experiment with. And I also knew Valentina would think you’re the Power Broker and wanted to work with you. Thats why I spoke on your answering machine. So that you could gain her trust. That James and Sam found it was a coincidence but you played along. Really good. So when they came to kidnapp me, I offered myself. And they couldn’t believe their luck. Pregnant, vice-director of Shield and the wife of the winter soldier. I knew they would take me and experiment with me with their last serum they got. The last serum because the others got stolen and I knew Zemo would kill the doctor eventually. They wasted their last serum on me without knowing I’m immune. And when they think you’re dying they tell you everything. I needed that information about Valentina. It was definitely worth it.”

You look on your watch.

“Sam will be here any minute so I better be going. You...” you look at Sharon “will stay here in the city. I have a little present for you in the next days. And you...” you look at Karli “You shouldn’t have stolen the serum from me. And you shouldn’t have fight James. Killing the other super soldier wasn’t my plan in the beginning. You’re just a means to an end.” 

You walk away and leave the hall before Sam sees you. 

~*~*~

Cameras and lot of people were standing and watching Sam reasoning and convincing the GRC. You pass the police officers as they prevent the crowd to come even closer. „Did you write that down first or was it off the top of your head? Spoken like the true Captain America.“, you smile as you walk to the men. „Ah. Director Barnes, good seeing you here. There’s lot to talk about after todays event.“ The man says after he shakes your right hand. „And we will.“, you lay your left hand on top of his while still shaking. „(Y/f/n), what are you doing here? Does Bucky know you’re here?“, Sam looks at you suspiciously. „SHIELD is always there where bad things happen.“, leaving the equivocation unanswered. 

„Excuse me, I need to make sure that the remaining terrorist are safely escorted to jail.“, and with that you turn around but not walking to the cars where the rebels are in but to another car in the shadow. A man walks up to you with a little device in his hand that looks very similar to a remote. „Thanks, Stan. Good work. See you later.“ You say as you take the device and walk further. You knock at the car window and open it. „Do you want me to press the button or do you want to do it yourself?“, you say in perfect German. „I’ll do it on my own.“, answers the man in the car, taking the device and presses the button. The explosion is huge and lightens up the inside of the car your inside. „Good. Very good. We’re even.“, says the man. You smile knowing that James is finally off Zemo’s list. You sacrificed the flag smashers for James, but you don’t feel any remorse. You would do anything to protect your family. 

~*~*~

„(Y/f/n)!“, James shouts. He’s running and looking for you in panic. „James, I’m here.“, you scream back as you run in his direction. „God, (y/f/n), what the fuck are you doing here?! It isn’t safe here for you. For you both.“ Bucky looks at you and on your stomach. „When Sam told me you were here and the car exploded, I thought… I thought…“ He can’t finish the sentence and you hug him tightly. „I’m sorry. I didn’t want to scare you. I’m here as a representative for SHIELD.“

„Sharon’s here. I’ve heard she will stay in town.“, Bucky grunts still not forgiving her. „I know. I forgave her. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trusting her, but I know the bad influence Madripoor has on people. Maybe she will change.“, you lie.

„Your kindness always amazes me.“, says Bucky as he kisses your head. 

~*~*~

Three days later you open the door to your office. A small brown package is on your desk. You open it and as you realize what it is you can’t help but smile. Inside of the package was the book „The prince“ by Machiavelli. It’s the same book you sent Zemo some time ago. You open it and see Zemo’s graceful handwriting One is controlled but the other is still standing

You know immediately who Zemo is referring to. Bucky and Walker.

When you found out that HYDRA is working on the serum again, and when you stole it and then the flag smashers sole it from you, you knew it was just a question of time till Zemo will be out of jail and take a side. And you wanted him to be on yours. So you visited him and made sure that you both are on the same page- that the other super soldiers have to die but not James. You made clear that Bucky wasn’t a threat. That he’s broken trying to make amend for his killing. That he has settled and there is no need for Zemo to kill Bucky. And Zemo liked you- you were both born in Leipzig and you both had difficulties to cope with loss. Two smart minds wanting to destroy the serum.

You take the book to your bookshelf making a mental note to visit Zemo in the Raft.

Someone knocks at your door. Sharon Carter. 

„They offered me full pardon.“, says Carter as she walks into your office. „I know.“ You say. „I wrote the text that the senator read aloud.“ 

„So, I’ll be working in my old division?“, asks Sharon. „No. Thats not happening, Sharon.“, you laugh.

„But I’ve got you a job that’s even better. You will work for SWORD. Its an extra-governmental intelligence agency. Probably you’ve heard about them. Their former leader Hayward was a pain in the ass. Like Pierce 2.0. I’ve heard Fury wants to work there and because of his relationship with Valentina, I’m not trusting him at the moment. So you will work there and keep an eye on everyone. Oh and I hope you told your assistant that the super soldiers are off the menu. But there are other things we can offer.“

„I already called her about that. But there is still one question I have. How did you become director?“

You smile wickedly. „Well, the arrogance of men never ceases to amaze me. When Sam gave the shield away it was just a question of time till they demand a new Captain America. And everyone wanted John Walker. Received three Medals of honor, good looking and a soldier who does everything  what is commanded than rather what is right. I didn’t like him. James told me years ago, that you can see madness in people’s eyes and man, his eyes were full with madness. So I didn’t agree with the board but the director and vice-director both has to agree. So I made them an offer. I told them that for this voting they can outvote me if everyone on the board agrees with our director. And if Walker does his job well I will leave my position. But if he fails, I will be the new director. All they did was laugh at me. They of course outvoted me and they even planned my goodbye-party. And I just waited and waited. And with Walker being so unstable I didn’t waited for long. And now I’m here and the director is gone and most of the board members as well. Arrogance is dangerous. Never estimate your opponent.“

„So where is Walker now?“

„I’m not sure but I’m pretty certain that he’s with Valentina and they are up to no good. Valentina wants James dead and Walker wants Sam dead because Sam is the new and definitely the better Captain America.“

~*~*~

A week later, you, Bucky and Alex are sitting in the car heading to Sam’s home town. The letter from Tony is laying in your purse. The envelope is still sealed but the answer in it isn’t unknown to you. You’ve known the answer for years, never telling anyone, not even James. People would be intimated if they’d known your heritage- your dad’s and your mom’s. And you learned that being an intimating woman only makes men defensive and its hard to work with them. Men need to feel strong and useful and that’s your strength. You always know how to make men feel that way around you, even it it’s just an illusion and even now that you’re the director they don’t feel intimated and that makes them careless and easy to read. 

„I never felt so much happiness than in this moment right now. It feels like a new chapter is starting.“, you grin at Bucky caressing his cheek. His five o’clock shadow tickles you and he leans against your hand. 

„Falling in love with you in Bucharest seems like so long ago. It’s been so difficult, James. This is a dream come true. Having a normal life with you is all I’ve ever wanted.“

Bucky stops the car in the middle of the road. He bends over you, kissing you possessively and pressing you against your car door. „You’re my home, (y/f/n). You’re my constant, my hope, my life and my family. Being loved by you is the greatest gift.“ He kisses you again, trailing soft kisses on your neck. 

You giggle freely and even though it arouses you tremendously you stop Bucky. „No sex in the car, while Alex is still here.“

Bucky grins playfully as he starts the car. „We will continue this later.“ 

~*~*~

Sam’s hometown celebrates the new Captain America and as Bucky arrives they also celebrates him as the white wolf. 

You danced and talked and ate and forgot everything you’ve ever done for the sake of your family until you receive a text message from Stan, who is securing the surrounding. Fury’s on his way to Delacroix. Accompanied by Hill and Dave. 2 minutes.

Dave is a co-worker of you. Of course he doesn’t know anything but his betrayal angers you anyway and there will be consequences.

„Is that Fury? What is he doing here? And why does he look so angry?“, asks Bucky Sam. Bucky hands you Alex over, who was relaxing on Bucky’s shoulders and both men are walking up to him, ignoring or maybe just forgetting that it is you who holds the most power and the reason for Fury’s visit. 

Everyone is underestimating you just like you’ve always wanted. 

  @inlovewith3 @jackiehollanderr @homesicam@dreamydreamerwriting @losers-club6 @gengen64@agentsofsheilds @crimson-darling @akkinda10 @xemine@bubblegumholland @chipilerendi @iamasimpingh0e @bbmommy0902 @madddiiee26 @teenagedreams-bucky @aya-fay @idontknowwhatthisisfam @w-wolfhxrd @useless-creature-213   @angywritesstuff @supernaturalcat7 @harrys-stan @geek-and-proud @pastel-boy-sungjae @austynparksandpizza @maxsaturdayhatesnarwhals  @teenagedreams-bucky @auds24 @ah-blossom @supraveng @lady-loki-ren @freakyhood96 @bbl32

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

Twelve Months - Good Omens fanfic

Happy 31st Anniversary of Good Omens! :D

To celebrate this momentous occasion, I have posted a slightly-sad, slightly-sweet Wake the Snake fic on AO3, because our demon has been napping for a whole Twelve Months, and sometimes Angel gets a little lonely!

Thank you all for another fantastic year in this fandom!

--

Twelve months.

Aziraphale pushed open the door to Crowley’s flat, a simple shopping bag tucked under his arm.

The lights were still off, the curtains drawn in the awful empty room he called a study. Nothing had changed.

He passed through the enormous, rotating section of wall and into the solarium. This was still bright—many of the plants flourishing despite being unattended so long, despite clearly not having enough water. A few had started flowering. They waved their branches at him as he entered, perking up eagerly.

The angel waved back, but first he peeked into Crowley’s bedroom.

He was still where Aziraphale had left him, on his last visit a month before. Bright red hair spilled across black pillows, grown into a stringy mop. Duvet pulled up to his messily-bearded chin. One hand curled up beside him on the bed.

Still asleep.

With a sigh, Aziraphale crossed over to the plants, who greeted him excitedly, unfurling their newest leaves, a few vines hanging down to brush his face.

“Hello, my lovelies. How are you all doing? Look at you, grown at least a foot since I saw you, I’m sure. And you! What beautiful pink buds. Very impressive.”

He didn’t think Crowley would approve of how he spoke to the plants, but the poor things had been so distraught on his first visit, straining to keep upright, trying to hide their yellowing leaves. So much healthier now, much happier for just a bit of attention. He picked up the watering can and gave them all a quick splash. He didn’t know how much water each needed, but it didn’t seem to matter.

“You keep it up, dears. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Picking up his shopping bag again, Aziraphale headed down the hall to the kitchen. The kettle sat on the island where he’d left it, and he quickly refilled it and set it to boil. While he waited, he pulled his latest creations from the bag: a small pumpkin spice cake from a recipe he’d been perfecting since fall, a lemon coconut cake, and a few apple cinnamon muffins.

Two plates—a muffin for each, a slice of the coconut cake for himself and the pumpkin spice for Crowley.[1] The rest went into the refrigerator, where they would never go bad or stale.

Aziraphale put the plates onto a tray, along with forks and napkins. Next he found two mugs and pulled the little tin of his second-favorite tea out of the bag just as the kettle boiled.

For himself, a teaspoon of the expertly blended leaves, steeped for exactly three minutes, resulting in a pale brown tea with a slightly spicy aroma. For Crowley, he dropped a tea bag into boiling water and let it sit until it was almost black.[2]

He carried the tray back to the solarium and selected a bright red-and-gold tulip that was nearly vibrating in its eagerness to be noticed. A moment to assure the other plants that they were still doing fabulously—particularly a self-conscious little succulent that had rather drooped over the winter but was making a fine recovery—and he once more headed into Crowley’s bedroom.

Crowley had rolled over, and now sprawled on his back, sleeping soundly. He’d apparently kicked a bit, too, as the blanket had slid down past his stomach. Aziraphale smiled as he set the tray on the chair he’d brought in some months ago and got to work.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, dear,” he started cheerfully, carefully rearranging the objects on the little bedside table. “I have a few things for you again, I hope you don’t mind.” Just enough space to slide the mug and the little plate. Perfect.

“I received a package from Tadfield again. Everyone wrote a note and then gathered them all together, really quite clever. They’re all doing well, if a bit bored.” The table was nearly overflowing with little items now, brought in by Aziraphale to cheer the place up. Framed pictures of their human friends, quarantining with their families, clustered in one corner so tightly you could hardly see them anymore.

He pulled the latest out of the shopping bag. “Anathema has started a garden,” he explained, pausing to show the photograph to Crowley’s sleeping form. It showed the witch, kneeling outside her little cottage, working on growing several rows of herbs. “I got the impression she was off to a rough start, but she hopes to send us some mint in the next package. Although Newt warned me not to expect too much, as they’d already forgotten which patch is mint and which is oregano.” He set the picture with the others, and slid the potted tulip alongside it. “I’m sure she could use some advice from you, when you’re ready to share.”

“Nnnnh.” Aziraphale spun eagerly, but no, just Crowley shifting in his sleep again, rolling onto his side.

The angel paused to pull the duvet back up to Crowley’s chin, tugging it straight and smoothing a hand down his back. In a way, his friend was nearly unrecognizable, with that hair and ridiculous beard, but in another way looked the same as ever. That was always Crowley’s way, of course, constantly changing yet somehow always the same.

He lingered, taking in the shape of that face, leaning close, lips hovering above his cheekbone—

Aziraphale pulled back, quickly digging into his bag again. “Oh! Ah, the, um, the children have been making projects for their art class. This past month was sculpture, and they sent us some. Look!” He pulled out four little figures of oven-baked clay. “Ah, young Wensleydale has made a very clever model of a train car. Brian’s is…abstract.” He turned the next a few different ways. “And Pepper’s is, ah, either a very complex symbolic representation of the Patriarchy, or…a troll, I think.” They just fit on the edge of the table, all in a line, a very mismatched tableau. The fourth, on the end, was the best, in Aziraphale’s opinion. “Adam made a little Dog, and it’s very well done, don’t you think?” The canine figure posed with one leg raised and head cocked, ready to play, but the shadow it cast was just a little too large, too ominous, for such a small creature.

With a sigh, Aziraphale shifted the row this way and that. “I sent a letter to Warlock, over in America, but haven’t heard back since Christmas. I believe they’re very busy with something. Politics. You know how it is.” When the Dowlings had left England, they’d planned to return for a visit the following summer. A global pandemic had had other ideas.

“In any case, that just leaves Tracy and Shadwell. I understand he’s decided to hate the concept of literacy this month, so no word on how his war with the squirrels is going. And Tracy has declared she will spend the summer making a fairy garden. I thought her sketches looked very promising, and she promised to send us an update in June. I’m sure you’ll find it charming.”

“Hrrrrm.” Crowley sank under the duvet, nestling down a little deeper. Aziraphale smiled, settling into the chair with his plate and mug.

“Things are loosening up again,” he explained, taking a bite of cake. Delicious, if he said so himself. Sharp and not too sweet. “People are getting vaccinated, shops opening up. It’s really a lovely breath of fresh air, at least when you’re not wearing a mask.” A long sip from his mug, then he held it, fingers tapping. “It’s been nice walking through the park again, just in time for the baby ducks. And that record shop at the corner, they’ve had some wonderful new additions. Which reminds me.”

Putting aside his mug, Aziraphale dug through the bag again and pulled out a handful of square plastic cases. “They had a whole shipment of those little records the Bentley likes. Modern music. I picked out the ones with the rudest names. I’m sure you’ll enjoy them.” He pulled out the first disc and placed it atop Crowley’s phone. The device blinked in confusion a few times, then obediently copied all the music.

“Of course, it’s not all good news.” He stacked the rest of the discs atop the phone and returned to his tea. “Reopening means the customers are coming back. Yesterday, this one individual spent almost an hour browsing the same three shelves. And then he tried to make off with one of my books.” Another long sip. “Granted, he offered to pay, but still. What sort of establishment does he think I’m running?”

Aziraphale paused, waiting for Crowley to respond, not that he ever did. The demon’s eyelids moved a little, but no more.

Sighing, Aziraphale turned to his muffin. “You know, many times in the last year, I’ve wished you were there. Particularly during reopening phases. You could have posed as a customer, and then I’d be able to tell people I was at the capacity limit. Oh, and the people who would call to try and buy my rarest books. Collectors, or so they claimed, but then they just turn around and sell to anyone for twice the price! I’m sure you’d have some biting things to say about such people.” He smiled at Crowley’s sleeping face. “I’ve missed that, and your jokes. Rather more than I expected to.”

When his plate and tea were finished, Aziraphale set them on the floor and reached again into the bag. “Now, I have been attempting to teach my computer how to use the internet. I think it’s going quite well. Adam and his friends gave me a ‘homework assignment’ to find articles on recent news events, and I made the most wonderful discovery. Did you know that humans now share their news through humorous pictures? I printed out my favorites to show you.”[3]

He flicked through a few. “Ah, to start with, a few months ago there was this American politician with amusing mittens who showed up everywhere for a few days. It was extremely droll.” He leaned closer, holding them up for Crowley to see. “Ah, a few more from America. The murder hornets arrived, though by that point everyone had forgotten them. The election became increasingly confusing, and it all ended in a parking lot. For a little while everything was ‘This-or-That Total Landscaping,’ and before that everything was cake.” He showed a few extremely clever illusions. “I did try to make my own, but couldn’t manage it without miracles, which I felt was cheating.”

Really, leaning like this was starting to strain his back. Aziraphale shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, the better to share his pictures. “Ahhh. Also for a time everyone’s calendars were stuck on ‘March.’ And then earlier this year, a group of people learned how the stock market works, but sadly not how to spell it. The whole situation seemed very much like the sort of thing you’d be involved in. And…Oh, this angel from a television show was sent to Hell for…reasons.” He glanced at the shape beside him. Crowley had curled in slightly, pressing against Aziraphale’s back. “Yes. Various reasons. And then this musician, I suppose, went on his own. Both had many people extraordinarily upset.”

The next few images would really tickle Crowley, if he could actually see them. “The biggest news is that a large ship got stuck sideways in that canal in Egypt. Stopped half the world’s shipping for a few days while they dug it out! I’m sure you would have liked that very much. Exactly your sort of trouble. The humans were all very excited.”

The final photo was another of the ship, an image Aziraphale had made himself, printing out a blank version and writing on it in felt-tip pen. The hull of the enormous ship was labeled, “An eternity putting up with the tedious bureaucracy and frequently conflicting commands of my superiors until I begin to doubt my own judgement and sanity,”[4] while the small digger working steadily beside it was “Crowley.”

Aziraphale watched the demon beside him, not really expecting a reaction, certainly not getting one. He reached over, brushing brilliant hair back from Crowley’s forehead. “I think you’d have had rather a lot of fun last year. Or perhaps you’d have been upset you could only watch from a distance. Or…”

He’d leaned much closer than he’d intended, hovering just above Crowley’s forehead.

“Well!” Aziraphale stumbled to his feet. “I suppose that’s just about everything.” He picked up the tray from where he’d rested it on the floor, starting to re-load it with everything he’d brought in. Crowley’s cake and tea sat untouched, as always, but Aziraphale wouldn’t dream of skipping them. “We’re all very optimistic for the summer. Two months and everything should be just…just tickety-boo. Perhaps we can go for that picnic soon, if…yes…”

They’d made such plans for 2020. All the things they would do now they were free. Plans, and other thoughts carried in their minds, possibilities that would play out in their own time. Not too fast, just a slow, steady exploration of everything they could be…

“Well. Pleasant as that idea is, best not to—to plan too much, as the previous year made fools of us all. I just…” He turned away from the tray and watched Crowley sleep, hands clasped before him. “I miss you terribly. And I wish…very much…”

He picked up his shopping bag. One item still inside. The same one he’d been carrying for months, trying to find the courage to bring it out.

With a shaking hand, he reached in and drew forth a soft hand-made doll. He’d spent much of the winter on it. Simple white cotton for the head and body, wooly curls for the hair, and stiff white lace for the wings. Dressed in waistcoat and bowtie made from Aziraphale’s favorite tartan.

He still wasn’t sure why he brought it. He’d stitched several little toys, particularly a lovely black-and-red serpent with gold button eyes that had watched him from the sofa since November. But this, for reasons he couldn’t articulate, this one was for Crowley.

“I, ah…” He shuffled closer, doll clutched in both hands. “I made, um…” Back to the edge of the bed, one hand fumbling across the duvet. “…thought you might like…”

Crowley’s face stood out in stark contrast to the pillow, pale skin and bright hair. Aziraphale wanted to drink it in, memorize every detail, to hold him over until next month. The curve of his nose, the sharp angle of his cheekbones. His lashes flickering as his eyes moved. His lips, pursed ever so slightly…

“Bless it, Angel, are you going to kiss me or not?”

Aziraphale gasped, pulling back from the bright gaze of slit-pupil eyes. “You—you’re awake!”

“Nnnh. Half.” Crowley shifted, head moving across the pillow, eyes threatening to shut again. “Wouldn’t miss your visit.” One hand reached out, plucked the doll from Aziraphale’s unresisting fingers. “For me?”

The angel nodded. “If…if…you like it…or I could—I could just…”

Without a word, Crowley pulled the doll under the duvet and curled up, tucking it under his chin, a faint smile on his lips.

“If you were awake you—you should have said something! I’ve been going—going off like a fool all this—oh!” Aziraphale could feel his face turning hot as he recalled a few times his tongue had been a bit too loose for propriety.

“Mmmmmh.” The golden eyes were shut again.

“Crowley?” No response. “Crowley!” Aziraphale scowled. “Anthony J. Crowley, if you’ve fallen asleep again, I swear, I’ll—”

He’d do what? The angel fumed, but what could he really threaten? To stay away? Never.

“Alright then, I suppose I’ll see you in June. I’ve had several new requests for extremely rare manuscripts and I need to go pen some responses reprimanding these vultures for their cheek. I can—”

“You can stay.”

He spun around. Crowley had one eye barely cracked open. Gently, he pulled back the duvet, showing there was just enough space for Aziraphale beside him.

“I…I couldn’t.” But he stepped forward, not back. “I have business tomorrow, things to—”

“Just tonight then.”

His fingers brushed the mattress and pulled back as if burned. “You—you don’t really mean this, you’re just talking in your sleep.”

“Nah.” Crowley settled the doll by his pillow, making space. “Why else would I give you my key?”

“I…to…water the plants?”

“They take care of themselves.” Crowley held open his arms, eyes shut once more. “I missed you, too.”

Well. What could he say to that?

Aziraphale took off his shoes and slid into bed, into Crowley's arms. They wrapped around him gently as Crowley wriggled closer. “Mmmm. Y’r softer than the doll.”

“Oh.” He’d been called soft many times, generally as a way to imply he was a failure as an angel. But just this once, it made him feel rather pleased. “Soft is good?”

“Verrrry good.” Crowley twisted a bit, trying to find a comfortable way to rest his long limbs, and finally settled curled up against Aziraphale’s chest, tucked below the angel’s chin with a leg hooked over his knees.

The angel smiled. “And you’re…you’re noodlier than a stuffed snake. Err…”

A chuckle, just a stirring of breath across his throat. “Can’t wait to hear the story behind that.” Crowley nuzzled against his shoulder with a sigh. “Good night, Angel.”

Aziraphale swept the brilliant hair back again and bent down, pressing his lips to Crowley’s forehead. A soft, gentle kiss that made his friend smile a little more broadly. “Good night, my dear.”

Crowley drifted off again, burrowing close, as the angel continued to gently tease the back of his hair. Perhaps, he thought, perhaps tomorrow's work wasn't so very urgent. Perhaps a bit of rest would do him good. And perhaps...

Well. Don't plan too much. But for the first time, Aziraphale felt a bit of optimism about the coming summer and its possibilities.

“Sleep well, Crowley.”

[1] Crowley had invented pumpkin spice, and Aziraphale assumed he must like it. In truth, Crowley despised it, and regretted every autumn how it took over the entire world. He missed apple cider season. [2] Aziraphale had suspected since the early 1950s that Crowley secretly took his tea with several lumps of sugar, but would continue to pretend he didn’t know until Crowley confessed. Considering current circumstances, that was unlikely to be any time soon. [3] Aziraphale’s fax machine, revived after over three decades of disuse, had been somewhat confused to be asked to perform any task at all, much less to print memes onto photo paper with perfectly balanced color; but like the plants and Crowley’s phone, it couldn’t stand to disappoint the angel. [4] It was possible he hadn’t quite mastered this new form of communication.

[clubyukhei]

in the mood for love (m)

pairing: wong yukhei x (f) reader

genre: fluff, smut, slice of life, some angst

summary: distance makes the heart grow fonder. in yukhei’s case, it makes him reminisce on all the firsts of your relationship and realise you’re the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. (or: a long-distance relationship au where yukhei savours every moment of your short reunion.)

warnings: unprotected sex, language

tags: established relationship, flashbacks, set in hk, hendery and kunten appear, drunk texting, flirty dialogue, love letters, talks of marriage, pining, a bittersweet ending

word count: 14.6k

a/n: wow, it feels weird to be finally posting this because i’ve been working on this for months. this took way longer than expected and for that i wanna thank my sweet mutuals and anons who have been so patient and encouraging :’) i hope you’re in the mood for fluff and domesticity because this fic is full of it! enjoy! (reposting again bc the original one wouldn’t show up in the tags. tysm if you’ve interacted with that post btw <3)

--

heaven is in your eyes

bright as the stars we're under

oh, is it any wonder

i'm in the mood for love?

-

why stop to think of whether

this little dream might fade?

we've put our hearts together

now we are one, i'm not afraid

-

if there's a cloud above

if it should rain we'll let it

but for tonight, forget it

i'm in the mood for love

-- 

mornings like this are hard to come by for yukhei.

when the only sounds he can hear are the ticking of a clock and your soft exhalations. when you’re cuddled up to him, your face tucked into the crook of his neck where you breathe warm puffs of air onto his skin every few seconds. 

it’s probably just another one of those dreams that yukhei gets every now and then. the kind he never wants to wake up from, because when he opens his eyes, all he sees is the dull grey ceiling of his dormitory before his bunkmates’ noisy snores snap him back into reality. 

those mornings were the worst. yukhei would give up on going back to sleep. instead, he’d force himself out of bed to wash up and head to the canteen for an early breakfast, all while annoyed that his mind had once again translated his yearning for you into his dreams. he couldn’t help but feel like he was being mocked by his own self. 

but this time, it feels different. 

his back is resting on a bed that’s much comfier than the thin mattress he’s used to back at camp, and he’s awfully snug and cosy under what feels like a thick fleece blanket.

yukhei peels his eyelids open, ready to be met with disappointment again.

the first thing he sees is the sunrise peeking through the curtains, greeting him good morning with a dark orange glow — which is weird, because he’s always up before the sun is. even though his mind is still fuzzy, yukhei has an inkling that he’s not back at camp. so he lifts his head off the pillow and looks around. 

there’s a messy work desk between two huge potted plants; a wall fully plastered with polaroids and pictures; and a clothing rack with clothes that clearly aren’t his but it’s the bra hanging over an armchair that finally tells yukhei that he’s in your bedroom.

he looks down and sighs in relief seeing you in deep slumber next to him. you’re sleeping on your side with a hand absentmindedly resting on his waist, your head tilted as if you fell asleep while gazing at him. your eyes are closed and the look on your face is so peaceful — it’s an image that yukhei wants to keep in his mind forever. 

wrapping an arm around your hips, yukhei gently tugs you closer to him. your eyebrow scrunches in reaction and he panics a little, freezing when your hand lands on top of his. but you turn on your other side and snuggle back against his chest instead, and his lips curl into a lopsided smile at this tiny movement.

yukhei hugs you from behind, nuzzling into your hair and sighing when he gets a whiff of your apple-scented shampoo that he has missed so much. 

just like that, the warmth of your bodies wrapped around each other and the thought of getting to spend the next few days with you — in real life, not just in his dreams — lulls him back to sleep. 

-- 

yukhei would never forget the day he first met you. 

or the sight of you sitting at the back of his mum’s restaurant, sipping on a glass of iced tea as you stared out of the window and silently observed the hustle and bustle of shatin plaza. 

the fact that his usual seat was occupied and that a pretty girl was sitting in it left him speechless, but not annoyed at all. sure, it was his favourite spot. it also unofficially belonged to him, seeing how he sat there nearly everyday doing his homework — but that was years ago. 

yukhei felt like the universe had something up its sleeve when it presented him with such a scenario on a day where he finally managed to pop by his mum’s restaurant and pay her a visit. he rarely popped by on weekdays anymore because of how hectic his academic life was becoming.

“look who it is! our yukhei who keeps growing taller and taller!” 

yukhei smiled shyly as he stepped behind the counter and greeted the longtime staff — aunties who never failed to shower him with all sorts of compliments — and rushed into the kitchen looking for his mum. 

mrs wong was less than pleased when she saw her son, to say the least. the smile on her face lasted for a good minute before she started nagging about how he should’ve gone home to study instead.

“i am going to study! right after i eat.” he whined, shocked that his presence had irritated her so much.

“you always say that, yukhei. but you just play games on your phone!” mrs wong retorted, not looking away from the refrigerator.

yukhei gulped at that statement, unwilling to admit that it was quite true.

“mum, who’s that girl outside? sitting at my table?”

“your table?” she chuckled before looking up at him. 

yukhei watched her make her way towards the kitchen entrance to peek at the stranger outside.

“ah, that’s _____. she comes here often.” she said with a bright smile that even yukhei himself rarely received. “she helped us understand what the tourists were saying, talked to them in english for us a few times now. a very sweet and smart girl.”

if anything, yukhei became more attracted to you at that moment. 

maybe it’s the thought of you helping his mum out while he’s not around — he knew how rude and impatient some tourists could be with language barriers, having personally dealt with them several times — or maybe it’s just the way you entered his life that, for some reason, felt like an important moment to him. 

either way, he already made up his mind about one thing. 

yukhei ended up serving you the pad thai you had been waiting for, warmly introducing himself as the lady boss’ first and older son and striking up a conversation with you that went on longer than he had expected. 

he thought it was bad that he had to control his excitement when you suggested he take the seat opposite yours, but it only got worse as you both began to talk about everything and nothing.

when you smiled, he lost his train of thought.  when you laughed or so much as even chuckled, his chest squeezed around his heart and he wanted to keep hearing the sound of it. and when you listened to him, he had to look away because your attentive gaze on him was truly too much. 

by the time you were done with your meal, yukhei had your number saved in his phone. he offered to walk you out, opening the glass doors for you all gentlemanly as if you had just dined at a five-star hotel restaurant.

“it was nice talking to you, yukhei.” you turned to smile at him just before you stepped outside. “see you again, i guess?” 

“yeah, let’s—um. yeah, see you around.” yukhei stuttered pathetically.

you giggled and waved goodbye to him and mrs wong before heading off. the lady boss had been subtly keeping an eye on you two after her son insisted on waiting your table.

once you were out of view, yukhei sighed, cringing at how nervous he sounded. before you, he had never in his life felt that self-conscious in front of anyone.

“my dear, what was that?” his mum asked with a sly look of amusement on her face. 

yukhei wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

“i don’t know, mum.”

all he could think about was seeing you again. 

-- 

when yukhei wakes up again, he’s alone in bed. 

the midday sunlight glares into the room and shines on the empty spot next to him, prompting him to roll away and further into the shade. 

he lies on his side, watching some plant-shaped shadows sway across the wall for a minute before forcing himself out of bed. those extra hours of sleep did wonders for his circadian rhythm and for once he doesn’t feel tired to be awake at all — just bummed that he woke up with you not in his arms.

something in the air shifted after last night. yukhei couldn’t get over the way you jumped into his arms when he appeared at your doorstep, or how you got emotional at his shaky confession as he presented you with the promise ring he had been keeping for so long. 

he had been craving for your presence so much over the past few months that seeing you reciprocate those feelings made him relieved and somewhat clingy. all he wants is to stick by your side every second he has with you before he leaves again. 

so he gets out of bed immediately, walking into your tiny living room where he hears the sound of running water and finds you leaning against the kitchen counter with your back facing him, busily tending to the roses he had gifted you last night. 

yukhei makes his way to you fast. his hands sneak beneath your oversized t-shirt and around your waist, pulling your frame against his front as he places a kiss on your temple. 

“morning,” you say, relaxing into his touch and reaching for the nape of his neck with one hand to tug his face closer to yours. 

yukhei hums in satisfaction when you angle your face perfectly to lock your lips with his in a tender kiss and whines when you attempt to pull away. he wants to taste your lips for a little longer, he’s far from done and you know it too. 

you turn around to face him properly, abandoning the stalks of roses that had your attention earlier. a gasp escapes you when he slides his hands down to your bum and swiftly lifts you onto the counter.

“missed my baby so much,” he mumbles against the juncture of your jaw and neck, relishing in your soft sighs by his ear. 

he doesn’t miss the way your legs hook around his waist to pull him closer or the way your fingertips lightly scratch his scalp as he busily sucks at your skin, determined to leave a trail of love marks for his own appreciation. 

the doorbell rings just as he’s licking over his masterpiece, rudely interrupting the moment. 

“yukhei.” you squeeze his shoulders and yukhei forces himself to pull away.

“who’s that?” he asks, unable to hide the tone of disappointment in his voice. his hands refuse to leave your skin, his thumb gently caressing the curve of your underboob.

you giggle at his pouty lips before adjusting the short bangs hanging over his forehead that he hated despite the many times you told him he looked cute.

“i ordered brunch for us.” 

dumbfounded and still in a half-asleep state, yukhei helps you off the counter. he watches you look into the peephole before opening the door and picking up a large paper bag that had been sitting on your doormat.

“i thought you’d be hungry after waking up.” you say, setting the bag into your small dining table for two. “i hope you don’t mind, bub. i didn’t want to cook anything because, well—i can’t. i haven’t been to the grocery store this week. but we can always head there later and get stuff for the next few days.”

yukhei lets out a huff of disbelief. “baby.” 

but you don’t hear him. you’re so busy unpacking the small food boxes onto the table as you ramble on and on, oblivious to the way he was staring at you in adoration.

“i got you your favourite stuff. spring rolls, shu mai—what?” 

at last you notice how quiet he has been and you freeze, looking at him with your eyes wide in concern. 

“sit down and let me do the work, please.” yukhei pleads, dragging a chair out. “you did all that while i did nothing and slept like a log!” 

you laugh, shaking your head as you sit down. “i just dialed a number and asked for some food. and i know you really needed that sleep.”

once all the food boxes are arranged neatly on the table, yukhei takes his seat next to you. you’re in the midst of reaching for a pair of chopsticks when his hand grabs onto yours, halting your movements.

there’s a moment of silence as you curiously watch him readjust his thumb below the joints of your fingers, bringing the back of your hand towards his lips.

“thank you, baby. i love you.” he tells you with a dazed smile, placing a kiss just above where the promise ring hugs your finger. 

“you’re welcome.” 

you tell him you love him too before you bite back a huge smile — the kind that satisfies yukhei so much because he knows he’s the reason behind it.

--

yukhei couldn’t put into words how elated he was when you texted him back a few days after your slightly awkward first meeting, agreeing to hang out with him that upcoming friday night.

truth be told, there weren’t any concrete plans for your first date. it was amusing to him really, how the conversation ended right after you both settled on a meeting place, with no discussions of what to do or where to eat.

maybe you were simply excited to see him again and didn’t really care about what the plan was — because that was exactly how yukhei felt. 

the bus ride to the shopping mall felt longer than usual. yukhei found himself staring at his reflection in the window a few times, adjusting the sleeves of his jacket and making sure he looked good.

he had rushed home straight after javelin practice and taken the quickest shower of his life before spending a good amount of time styling his hair. it was not the wisest idea — choosing a late school day when there were six other days in a week where he wouldn’t have to rush — but he had been merely trying his luck when he sent that message asking if you were free. he wasn’t expecting you to actually say yes. 

so when he spotted you waiting all by yourself from afar, he quickened his footsteps amidst the crowd, never taking his eyes off of you. 

your face lit up as soon as you saw him and you waved, the crop top you wore lifting a little. yukhei’s gaze flew to the sliver of skin exposed and the nervousness that had been bubbling in his tummy earlier instantly melted into nothing.

the night went quite smoothly. yukhei could not have enjoyed himself more, from dinner at the sushi bar you had recommended to the impromptu movie session that had the both of you sharing the only available seat left: a couple seat. 

he was falling harder as he got to know you more and it scared him just how fast it was happening.

“do you watch superhero movies a lot?” you asked as the two of you turned into another alley of food stalls. 

yukhei had insisted on accompanying you back to the train station after the movie as it was getting late. he was not going to leave you alone when nightlife in the city was just starting, not when the streets were bound to get rowdy. 

“not really. i mean blockbusters are nice but i love old dramas and action flicks, you know?” yukhei answered, turning to look at you in his jacket that had been on you since he noticed you shivering in the cinema. he couldn’t help but smile at how your fingertips were peeking beneath the long sleeves.

“wait, me too!” you gasped, turning to look at him with a huge smile. “why didn’t you stop us from watching iron man?” 

“well you suggested it so i thought you really wanted to watch it!” yukhei laughed as he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “i’m sorry.” 

“no, that’s my bad. i didn’t know what you liked so i just picked something popular.” you rolled your eyes playfully. “maybe we can watch the great gatsby next time. i think we might enjoy that.” 

next time?

it took yukhei a few seconds to acknowledge the idea of a second date that you had brought up so casually.

“r-really?” he cringed as the single word fumbled through his lips.

“yeah?” you replied, the blank look on his face amusing you a little. “we can watch something else too, if you want.”

“no!” he perked up. “let’s watch gatsby.”

eventually the two of you arrived at the train station, where goodbyes were exchanged rather reluctantly and awkwardly. yukhei watched as you took a few steps away from him before abruptly turning back around. 

“what’s wrong?” 

“your jacket!” you ran a hand through your hair abashedly. “i almost forgot! i mean i did, but.”

yukhei’s hands flew to yours before he could stop himself, stopping you from taking his black denim jacket off. 

“it gets cold in the train. you should have it.” his hands flew to his sides awkwardly. “you can give it back to me next time, it’s okay.”

“oh.” you said so softly that yukhei almost missed it. your eyes fell onto the short sleeves hugging his arms and he read your mind right away. 

“i’ll be fine. my bus ride home is pretty quick.” he reassured you. it was a lie. the weather had started getting cooler and that’s why he brought a jacket out in the first place, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

yukhei noticed that your cheeks had reddened a little. why were you so cute?

“okay then,” you said with a tiny smile. “thanks again, yukhei.”

yukhei landed on his bed face flat after a warm shower, absolutely exhausted and ready to hit the sack. to be fair, it had been a long day for him and it was close to midnight. 

if it was any other weekday night, he would be snoring already. but he had just sent you a text asking if you reached home already and was eagerly waiting for your reply. 

at last, after a long five minutes, yukhei’s phone buzzed a few times in a row. 

[from: _____][sent at 11:57PM] 

hey

i just got out of the shower

thx for checking in :)

and thx for tonight again, i had a good time :)

wait it’s almost 12!! 

you’re still awake? 

yukhei didn’t realise a bunch of alphabets and symbols could make him so happy. his thumb hovered over his phone screen as he began to type out a reply, but a more texts came flying in.

[from: _____][sent at 11:59PM]

well

in case you’re already sleeping..

goodnight and sweet dreams~

just minutes ago, he had been so ready to fall asleep. but the rush of happiness he experienced as he read your texts over again made that impossible now. yukhei couldn’t put away his phone, couldn’t stop himself from grinning. 

he was screwed. he knew he was, when that was the effect you had on him after only days of knowing each other.

--

“well, well, well. if it isn’t my favourite couple.” 

“sorry,” you sigh while yukhei simply shoots an apologetic smile at kunhang as he slips into the booth after you. “you know how bad traffic is at this hour.”

“it’s okay.” says ten who’s sitting next to kunhang and shoving his nintendo switch into his bag. “but we ordered some stuff first because i’m starving my ass off.”

“oh that’s great!” yukhei cheers. “i’m hungry too.”

“already? weren’t you guys just at your mum’s restaurant?” ten chuckles as he looks up, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

kunhang snorts. “he’s hungry all the time, remember? you should see his snack stash back at our dorms.” 

just before they parted ways at camp at the start of their vacation, kunhang had suggested to yukhei that they have a get-together meal with ten — the oldest of the trio who recently scored a job at a renown art gallery in town and decided to stay for good, instead of flying back to his hometown.

yukhei agreed to it, not just because he missed his friend dearly, but also because it’s been a while since all of you had a meal together. when he brought it up to you, you were thrilled at the idea of catching up with them, even if that meant giving up some of his already limited time with you. that’s how you and him ended up sitting across from his two best friends at a hot pot restaurant tonight. 

as food arrives and gradually takes up every inch of space on the table, everyone takes turns giving updates on their lives. yukhei shares memorable incidents at camp and kunhang adds on to his stories with funny anecdotes that make you and ten laugh, while ten announces that his longtime boyfriend, kun, has moved into his apartment. 

“so how’s it like living with kun so far?” you ask, ladling soup from the simmering pot in the center of the table for everyone. 

“i’m getting used to my fridge having food and my kitchen actually being used.” ten replies with a shy smile that yukhei rarely got to see. “it’s only been a week and it’s getting messy in there, but i’m not complaining.” 

“aw.” 

yukhei hears you coo, and he can practically see the look of endearment on your face even though he’s focused on all the meat you’ve put on his plate earlier. 

“and when are the two of you planning to tell us that you’re getting married?” the long-haired boy smirks, squinting at the gold band hugging your ring finger. 

the question stunts you and yukhei and kunhang nearly chokes on his sprite. the innocent smile that was on ten’s face just seconds ago was now long gone and replaced with a mischievous one.

“married?” kunhang exclaims, his voice so loud that the couple in the next booth turns over to look. thoroughly embarrassed, he presses the front of his cap down to hide his eyes. “how am i not the first person to know this, yukhei?”

yukhei sighs. where, and how, should he begin? 

as he glares at ten who’s enjoying this a bit too much, you set your chopsticks down and hold your hand out to an eager kunhang, who marvels at the piece of jewellery on your ring finger up close.

“so?” ten lets out a cheeky, high-pitched giggle at the look yukhei gives him. “did you guys just come back from telling your fam the good news or…?”

yukhei grins devilishly as he picks up a bean sprout with his chopsticks, ready to fling it at ten, but you’re faster than him. 

“we’re not—i mean, we’re getting married. eventually! not now, obviously.” you chuckle in a flustered manner.

we’re getting married. 

yukhei’s heart flutters at that sentence. he wants to hear you say that again, wants to be the one to tell his friends that. 

“you’ll be the first to know when we do.” yukhei adds, nudging kunhang’s foot underneath the table, earning an eye-roll from ten.

“well, you better.” kunhang quipped. “we’ve been talking about this for years now. it’s time you two quit playing and actually get it done.” 

“ah, so this is a promise ring?” ten cuts in excitedly. it’s now his turn to examine the ring as kunhang gets back to his food. “it’s so pretty. it definitely suits you.”

“thanks,” you beam as you pull your hand back. “yukhei got it years ago but won’t tell me when or where. says it’s a secret.”

the two boys gawk at yukhei right away and he sighs, bracing himself for what’s to come. 

“oh xuxi, you romantic baby!” ten teases, clearly having the time of his life making yukhei blush tonight. 

“so this is what you were nervous about!” kunhang scoffs in disbelief before looking between you and ten. “we were on the train back to the city and he wouldn’t shut up about being nervous for some surprise plan. and he just wouldn’t tell me what!” 

“oh my god, you guys are so cute. it’s gross.” ten shakes his head. “you’re lucky i love you both!”

yukhei smiles bashfully. he was a little embarrassed at first, but of course ten and kunhang had to make it worse. he wanted to pull his beanie over his entire face and ignore everything.

you’re awfully silent next to him as you glance between your food and your lap shyly, your hair shielding your face from everyone else. a warm rush of adoration washes over yukhei and he finds himself gently adjusting your hair, tugging a loose strand behind your ear.

“okay, that’s it.” kunhang groans, grabbing his bag and pretending to leave the table. “thanks for the meal, you guys.” 

“you can’t just leave!” ten exclaims, reaching for his cup of tea. “you haven’t asked _____ for her friends’ numbers yet.” 

kunhang stares at ten, his eyes widening and jaw dropping in horror before he starts bickering with him — a scene that has you bursting into laughter and yukhei reminiscing the good old days where the four of you would hang out at the mall for hours after class. kunhang was always so starstruck by the popular girls at your all-girls school though you weren’t close with any of them. nothing has really changed since you entered university. 

“you told me to remind you!” ten retorts. 

“not in front of everyone!” kunhang cries dramatically.

“dude. it’s literally just the four of us.” ten deadpans. “always has been.”

“anyway,” kunhang rolls his eyes as he turns to face you. “so, _____. any of your friends single again?” 

you do your best to look sympathetic before shaking your head. yukhei splutters out a laugh while ten pats kunhang’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. 

“this would be a lot easier if you were, you know, into guys.” 

--

yukhei’s first kiss with you was, for him, a long time coming. 

it happened at the end of your fifth date, after a day spent at the park. 

summer had fully transitioned into fall and the weather was cool enough for the two of you to set up a picnic at a sunny spot. everything was perfect — from the calming sounds of nature to the desserts you both brought to the cute dress you wore underneath your sweater that matched the greenery around you.

more than a month had passed since yukhei first met you. with every date, the urge to hold your hands when you walked around in public and to kiss you and finally know what your lips tasted like kept growing. 

yukhei smiled as he watched you talk about your week even though he already heard these stories since you text each other so much. your words went in and out of his ears and it was hard for him to concentrate because all he could think of was whether you liked him too.

there were moments that made him consider it a possibility, like how you surprised him with his favourite snacks after one of his javelin practice sessions or the way you would smile when you caught him staring at your face.

he was torn between over-romanticising those moments and acknowledging them as the plain and simple fact that you liked him too.

he felt it again as the two of you watched the sun set and slowly sink into the horizon across the river, the sky dissolving into hues of orange. 

the scene in front of him was majestic, but yukhei could only concentrate on how close to him you and him were. so close that your arms were brushing against each other’s, so close that you could rest your head on his shoulder if you leaned a little. 

“i like this a lot.” you said out of the blue, your eyes still fixed on the sunset in the distance. you leaned back, anchoring your palms against the mat to make yourself comfortable.

“i like you a lot.” 

yukhei couldn’t stop himself. those words had been kept inside him for too long. 

silence hung in the air as your proximity grew tense. yukhei couldn’t see your face and he was starting to think that maybe it was for his own good. when he felt you sitting up straight and he held his breath, expecting the worst.

“i like you too.” your voice was barely audible and you sounded just as nervous as he did, but yukhei heard you loud and clear.

his eyes widened as he turned to you at the speed of light. you had been looking at him nervously but as soon as your eyes met, your gaze quickly flickered towards your hands that were fidgeting with the sleeve of your sweater. 

“really?” yukhei placed his hand over yours, gently circling the back of it with his thumb. “you like me… in that way?” 

“yeah.” you mumbled, resting your head in the nook between his neck and shoulder exactly how he had pictured in his mind earlier. “i like you. a lot.”

relief flooded yukhei’s veins and he could finally breathe hearing you say the words he had so badly wanted to hear. nothing else mattered in that moment, because all he could think of was you seeing him in the same light he saw you in. 

and suddenly, everything made sense to him. how could he be so stupid, after all that had happened in the past few weeks? the way you’d remember the little details of things he told you and how you’d blush at his terrible pick-up lines? of course you liked him too. 

“what are you thinking about?” you squeezed his hand as you pulled back to look at him. 

your face had never been so close to his. yukhei could count your eyelashes and have a proper look at your lips that looked soft and velvety. everything about this moment made it impossible for him to ignore what he had been dreaming of doing.

“can i kiss you?” yukhei asked.

all he could remember was how your eyes lit up instantly, every trace of worry fading away as an innocent smile graced your face. then you leaned in and closed your eyes just as he did, your lips meeting in a long awaited kiss. 

yukhei cupped the side of your face with one hand, his thumb drawing soothing circles over your cheekbones. he felt himself sink into the feeling of your fluffy lips moving languidly against his, the way they tasted sweet like the strawberry shortcakes you shared earlier. 

it took everything in yukhei to not whine when you pulled away to catch your breath, even though the kiss was probably longer than it should have been. he could still feel the butterflies in stomach as you pressed your forehead against his and he didn’t want them to fade away so soon, so he spoiled you with a few chaste kisses in a row that left both your lips tingling by the end.

“been wanting to do that for a long time.” yukhei beamed. 

he reached for your hand that had been on his knee and interlocked your fingers — a small gesture he could now make anytime he wanted, and that made him a very happy boy. 

the sun was almost gone but even under the dim fluorescent lighting from the street lamps, yukhei could tell that you were flushing and giddy with affection like him. the golden hour casted a warm orange glow onto your skin and you couldn’t look more like the girl of his dreams. 

“i know. me too.”

the butterflies in yukhei’s stomach fluttered wildly at the sound of your airy chuckle. there was nothing that could take away the smile on his face.

-- 

yukhei did not expect to wake up to the sight of you in nothing but his camo jacket.

the lack of body heat woke him up and he found himself once again lying alone in bed and wondering where you were — but all his thoughts flew out of the window when he heard the bedroom door creak and saw you stepping back in. 

he had to blink a few times to make sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him and that you were indeed, dressed only in his camo army jacket.

you’re standing beforeyour dresser to examine the love mark yukhei branded on your neck the night before, oblivious to how he’s silently observing you and getting hard again. 

there’s something about the way his jacket reaches your midthigh and teasingly moves upwards to offer him a glimpse of your ass each time you lifted your hands to run over your skin that turns him on so much. and he has seen you in his t-shirts and muscle tanks many times before, but none of that could compare to how you looked right now and he has no clue why so.

maybe it’s the consecutive months of being deprived of your touch and having to picture your body as he took cold showers to relieve himself on some mornings. but he doesn’t have to rely on his imagination now that you’re here, in front of him, like a present waiting to be unwrapped and appreciated.

yukhei lets out a whine that gets muffled into the pillow, but you hear it immediately and whirl around in surprise.

“hey.” you smile lazily as you make your way back to bed, landing on your knees and crawling towards him. 

yukhei’s eyes are glued to the gap between his unbuttoned jacket, which hangs loose enough on your body to bless him with the sight of your cleavage, the smooth expanse of your body, and as he lowers his gaze — your core between your parted thighs. 

he’s visibly infatuated, and you clearly don’t entertain that as you sit on where his crotch is beneath the sheets, lying down on him to give him a quick smooch. your lips are warm and taste like lemon, which tells yukhei you just had your morning mug of tea.

“morning,” yukhei mumbles, slipping a hand beneath his jacket to rest on your back. your skin is smooth and warm under his touch as always. “this looks so much better on you.” 

“yeah?” you chuckle softly. “hope you don’t mind, it was cold.”

“i don’t mind it at all,” yukhei smiles, raising his other hand to cup your cheek affectionately. “but i need you.”

“need you to warm me up, baby.” he says, his voice deepening with the next sentence. “want you to ride me in this.” 

you’re looking down at him in a hazy gaze when your breathing pauses. you don’t answer him with words — instead, you slot your lips between his, never pulling away as you get on your knees and pull the covers off. 

yukhei sighs into the kiss at the feeling of his cock standing tall and unrestrained, desperately begging for your attention. he lets out a heavier sigh as your hand wraps around his hard length and starts stroking him with purpose.

“just like that.” he groans, his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as his hips start thrusting into your grip. you line his jaw with kisses, making him feel pampered and content. 

“want you too.” you purr.

yukhei hears how needy you are and tightens his grip on your ass, but you’re already one step ahead of him. repositioning yourself, you let your slick folds slide against the length of his cock as you continue pumping him, lubricating him with your own arousal. 

the room is filled with desperate sighs. you’re grinding your clit over his tip when it becomes all too much for yukhei, who wants to be deep inside you already.

“baby,” yukhei mutters, squeezing your ass cheeks which elicits a loud gasp from you. “need to be in you now. please.”

the urgency in his voice prompts you to lean forward and stable yourself with a hand pressed to his chest. yukhei watches you guide his cock towards your opening before sinking onto him in one go. 

“fuck.” his throat goes dry at the feeling of your soaking walls enveloping all of him and his jaw slackens as he takes a few moments to appreciate how it feels to be buried in you.

“yukhei,” you whine. “it’s hot.”

he watches you shrug his jacket off, letting it hang past your shoulders in a teasing manner. at this point, he just wants to rip it off you. but all he manages is a guttural groan before running his hands up and down your thighs.

“you’re driving me insane, baby.”

you giggle softly at his words, the sound ringing in his ears and going straight to his cock.

“i love you.” you tell him sweetly and kiss him again. then you plant your hands flat against his lower abdomen where his abs are, lifting yourself off him until only his head is left stretching you open.

yukhei grunts when you drop back down slowly and start riding him at a hypnotic rhythm. he’s too overwhelmed to say a word, too entranced by your breathy moans and the lewd image of your chest rising and falling. 

you’re clenching around him in such a delicious way that all he can do is knead your asscheeks with his large hands and let out deep “uh-uh-uh”s. 

“fuck,” yukhei hisses as he watches you arch your back, moving you hips differently to get the perfect angle. 

“let me take over, baby.”

yukhei plants his feet flat on the mattress just as he feels a familiar tight feeling in his balls. you oblige right away and collapse against him, ready for him to fuck you senseless.

pressed chest to chest, he grips onto your ass firmly as he starts pounding into you from below. 

the scent of passion and desire wafted through the air. his cock leaves and enters you at a brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping only getting more erratic with your cries for his name right by his ear.

“yukhei…” you cry weakly as his tip nudges your sweet spot again and again. 

“i’m here, baby. gonna come inside you, you want that?” 

“y-yes. miss you filling me up.”

yukhei curses, and you reach your high just seconds before he does. your entire body shakes in pleasure before he comes into you, flooding your insides with his warm release. he groans as you ride out your high and roll your hips, the feeling of you being warm and full all too heavenly.

after a short while of nothing but heavy breathing as the both of you succumb to a blissful state, yukhei removes the jacket hanging off your elbows and rolls you over with his softening cock still snug in you. he hums in satisfaction, nuzzling his face against your neck as your fingers comb through his hair. 

“i love you.” yukhei sighs contentedly. “didn’t get to say it back just now.”

he hears you hum softly and feels a peck on his forehead. when he gains the energy to pull back and look at you, he finds your eyes already on him, half-open in adoration. 

“i’ll clean us up, okay?” yukhei asks softly, his elbows pressing against the mattress as he moves to get up. he’s sure there’s already a mess on your sheets. 

“no, don’t go.” you murmured, tightening your thighs around his hips in an attempt to lock him in place. you end up pushing him deeper into you instead, making him hiss. “stay like this for a bit.” 

yukhei notes the clinginess in your voice and the way your hands trace love patterns along the curves of his back. he lies back down, joining your lips in a deep kiss. 

“i’m not going anywhere.”

it’s so easy for him to do whatever you say, he realises. you have him wrapped around your finger because you’re just as clingy as he is — and only he gets to see that side of you.

--

yukhei had sex with you for the first time in a hotel overlooking the ocean. 

it had been his first holiday with you. every december, yukhei would fly back to his mum’s hometown in thailand with his family to visit his relatives — that wasn’t anything new. what was new though, was you tagging along after his mum had enthusiastically asked you to join them. 

the week-long trip was the most fun yukhei had in years. minus the shy introductions and teasing from his relatives who were overjoyed to finally meet his pretty girlfriend whom they’ve heard much about over phone calls, it was like a mini honeymoon for the two of you. 

after catching up with his cousins in the first half of the trip, yukhei spent all the other days ‘having fun by yourselves’ as his mum had insisted. you ended up exploring the coastal town, hanging out at the beach, and eating the local food to your heart’s content.

the highlight of the trip for yukhei though, was finally being able to make love to you. the resort stay was a godsend opportunity after the many interruptions during your steamy makeout sessions in yukhei’s tiny bedroom. it was the perfect time and place that you both needed.

yukhei swore you were a goddess as you laid on the bed with your legs spread out, your hair fanned out against the pillows, patiently waiting for him to put the condom on. 

it was his first time seeing all of you, your curves and body marks displayed to him like a work of art in a museum. he couldn’t look away, couldn’t ignore how rosy your face was from coming apart on his fingers just minutes earlier.

“is this okay?” yukhei asked tenderly, pausing when he stretched you out halfway. “can i go deeper, baby?” 

you nodded fervently though the tense look on your face made yukhei unsure. he really wanted you to enjoy this too. sensing his hesitation, you pulled him down for a deep kiss. 

“so tight, fuck—” yukhei mumbles against your lips as he pushed himself further into you, his hands caressing the underside of your thighs.

yukhei sighed, the pressure to not come quickly making him slightly nervous. it was difficult not to when your walls were warm and hugging his cock like a glove, letting him experience euphoria like never before. 

“beautiful.” his voice gentle as he gave you an open-mouthed kiss. “all mine.” 

as soon as you signalled for him to move, yukhei took charge, thrusting into you slowly as he gauged your reaction. his pace quickened after a while a combination of sighs and moans spilled from your mouth. your neck arched against the pillows, presenting him with the perfect location for a love mark. 

but yukhei was distracted. he couldn’t take his eyes off your soaking core, couldn’t get over the way you stretched open to welcome him each time his cock slid all the way back in. he had seen his fingers disappear in you before so many times, but this image was incomparable. 

“so deep,” you said breathlessly, your fingernails digging crescent moons into his back. 

yukhei looked at you. from the hair that stuck to the side of your neck to your lashes fluttered shut in pleasure, you were a sight to behold. 

“yeah?” he kissed you sloppily. “does it feel good?”

“yes—oh!” you whimpered just as yukhei’s fingertips landed on the sensitive bundle of nerves right above where you and him were connected. 

he drew circles on it with his thumb, groaning when you clenched around him. “you feel so good around me too, baby. you’re doing so well.”

yukhei’s thrusts grew uneven as he coaxed you into your orgasm. by the time he shot his release into the rubber, you came undone beneath him too, crying out in rapture one last time as your thighs shook intensely. 

a moment of silence hung in the air as your pants slowly faded into deep and slow inhalations. seeing you come all over him, because of him, gave yukhei’s ego a huge boost. it didn’t help that you were trembling in sensitivity while he cleaned you up as gently as he could and muttered praises into your ear.

“yukhei,” you called him softly and he halted his movements, worried that he had accidentally hurt you. 

“i don’t know if i can go out tomorrow.” you mumbled, covering your eyes with the back of your hand. 

yukhei instantly relaxed, a smirk taking over his face as he threw the wet wipes aside.  “we don’t have to go out, but i can carry you wherever you like.”

when you didn’t respond, he crawled over you and pulled your hand away. you avoided his gaze, looking at his chest instead. 

“i’m serious, baby.” yukhei tilted your chin up and looked into your eyes as genuinely as he could. “we can stay in all day if you want.”

“okay. sounds nice.” your hand quickly hovered over your face again. 

the smirk on yukhei’s face softened into a smile. it was amusing and adorable to him, how you could still be this shy after the night’s events. he felt as if he was in heaven and within the next second, he was placing kisses everywhere on your face but your lips. when you broke into a fit of giggles, yukhei couldn’t help but keep going. he finally stopped when your hands framed his jaw, guiding his plump lips back to yours for a short, innocent kiss. 

“thank you for being so patient with me tonight.” you paused, swallowing a lump down your throat. “it was nice even though i’m a little sore now.”

yukhei’s heart grew three times at your words.

“is that all? just nice?” he smirked. 

you pinched his bicep playfully and hid your face again, muttering something about him being so annoying. 

“i’m playing with you,” yukhei giggled, pretty sure he had hearts in his eyes as he looked at you. “love seeing you get all shy for me like this.” and with that, he pulled your hands apart and trapped them against the pillows. 

just as he was about to kiss away the pout on your lips, the sound of a door slamming shut thundered down the hallway and echoed in the room, sending both of you into speechlessness. 

yukhei put his boxers on hurriedly, rushing to the balcony and sighing in relief when he noticed the lights in the next room a distance away had just turned on — a sign that his parents, who had been out the entire evening, have just gotten back. at that moment, he couldn’t be more thankful that his plans for the night turned out well. he wouldn’t know how to face his parents if they overheard him and you, and just the sheer thought of it brought goosebumps to his arms.

“are they back?” you asked nervously, pulling the covers up to your chin.

yukhei nodded, turning the bedside lamp off before cuddling up to you. “we have to be quiet.”

“oh, we will be.” you yawned, making him smile and hug you more tightly. you responded by wiggling around in his embrace. “yukhei, i’m sticky.” 

“don’t care.” he whispered against your skin. “just wanna hold my baby like this.” 

after a few more indulgent kisses and sweet nothings were exchanged under the moonlight, you dozed off in each other’s arms.

the next morning, yukhei woke up to the sound of waves crashing onto the shore. you were already awake and sitting up with the covers wrapped around you as you silently admired the swaying palm trees outside. yukhei sat up sluggishly, planting a kiss on your shoulder. 

you turned around to return a kiss to his lips, eyes still closed when you pulled away, the intimacy of last night clearly still in the air. you opened your eyes, looking completely lost in him just like he was in you.

“good morning to you too.”

the rest of the day was slow and relaxed. you both agreed to stay in the resort, and so the afternoon flew by as you lounged by the pool and dined at the restaurant next to the beach. safe to say, the sight of you in a bikini all day led to another intimate, even raunchier night. 

--

yukhei thinks he’s ready to move in with you.

maybe it sounds a little impulsive. but that’s because there haven’t been a lot of opportunities for the two of you to live together, with yukhei studying at another university and you living in a shared apartment over the past few years. 

but staying at your apartment over these few days has given yukhei a sneak peek of life under the same roof as you, and he loves it so much that he wants to be done with his enlistment duties and fast forward to the part where he gets to share a home with you already.

yukhei wants to wake up past noon on weekends and whip up a hearty brunch with you, wants to spend the rest of the day helping you with mundane tasks like laundry and watering all your plants.

yukhei wants to be there for you on days where you’re exhausted from grad school life, when you turn down his pleas for you to take a break despite being drained from staring at your laptop screen. but he’ll massage your tensed shoulders, take your glasses off, and pull you to bed where you doze off to his soothing back rubs and soft praises of how proud of you he is and how well you’re doing.

he craves that kind of domesticity even right now as you lay on top of him, your limbs entangled comfortably and your cheek squished against his chest while your eyes are glued to the great gatsby playing on the tv.

there aren’t any plans to go out today due to the simple fact that you were both too lazy to get dressed and leave the house unless it’s for food. and probably because, though you wouldn’t admit it openly, you want him all to yourself — which is fine because yukhei feels the exact same towards you. 

the living room is hushed as you and him watch a drenched gatsby reunite with daisy in a lavishly decorated flower-filled cottage. you sit up just as the scene ends, elbowing the couch as you rest your chin on your palm.

“why are you looking at me like that?” yukhei asks. there’s an unsure look on your face that he can’t quite read.

“i think i remember.” you hold your other hand up, flashing the ring that has been making you so happy. “thailand?”

yukhei grins brightly, the top row of his teeth showing. he nods proudly, taking your hand in his to look at the ring — a thin gold band with a pale blue sapphire — and admire the way it gleams in the afternoon sunlight. 

it’s just as beautiful as the first time he saw it in that gift shop in thailand. 

yukhei remembers that day vividly. it was the last day of the trip, and both of you were shopping around for souvenirs for your friends back home. he caught you admiring a few vintage jewellery pieces by yourself as he stood in the corner of one of the many shops you stepped into that day, pretending to be interested in some touristy postcards. though it didn’t seem like much to him at first, he later noticed that you picked up the same ring a few times, looking back at it even as you walked away. 

eventually, thanks to what he could say in his broken thai, he managed to charm the shop owner into reserving that very ring for him. yukhei secretly returned for them while you thought you were waiting for him to be done in the bathroom at a cafe. he felt a little bad at first, but he knew it had to be done or else he’d regret it so much in the years to come. 

yukhei always imagined what the ring would look like on your finger. its design enthralled him when he first examined it up close and he quickly understood why you took such a liking to it — after all, anything vintage was right up your alley. little did he know it would look even more beautiful sitting on your ring finger. 

“oh my god.” you let out a huff of disbelief as soon as he finishes explaining everything. 

you’re speechless as your eyes flick back and forth between the ring and the coy look on yukhei’s face. this is the reaction he has been waiting for. 

“yukhei.” your voice is fragile, like you’re about to cry any moment. 

the smirk on yukhei’s face drops immediately. he does not like hearing his name from you like that. 

“what’s wrong?” 

“nothing,” you smile weakly, quickly brushing away the tears that escaped your eyes with the back of your hand. “i just love you so much.”

“and i’m going to miss you. a lot.” you continue before he gets to reply. “every day. all over again. i miss you already.” 

“oh, baby.” yukhei croons as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you down for a tight hug. he rubs your back, feeling helpless at the sound of your sniffles. 

yukhei knew this would happen. of course he did. he’s struggling just as much as you are to ignore the impending distance you’ll both have to deal with again — maybe that’s why he was clinging onto the idea of a future with you so tightly. 

“we’ve talked about this. the sooner the better, right? ” yukhei says sadly, finding it hard to agree with himself.

“i know, i’m just being emotional again. i’m sorry.” you chuckle unhumorously. “i didn’t think i’d get to see you before the year ends, you know? but you came back. you’re actually here and i’m so happy.” 

“and,” you prop your arm up on his chest, the promise ring once again in yukhei’s view. a moment passes as the two of you stare at it — the symbol of your love and future.

“i love you so much. i want to live the rest of my life with you, like the past few days.” you say resolutely.

yukhei is overwhelmed with happiness, love, and nostalgia all at once. suddenly he’s transported back to that park where you first kissed as teenagers, where he first found out that you liked him too. but loving someone and knowing that they love you back so much so that they want to be with you forever is something so much more special. it’s a privilege yukhei never thought he’d have. 

and now, he does. as he looks into your eyes, he realises that you’ve blessed him with that privilege, and that you’re truly the best thing that has ever happened to him. 

yukhei finds himself unable to express in words just how he feels at this moment. so he shifts your bodies around until you’re lying side by side, until all he sees is your face up close. he cups your tear-streaked cheeks before softly brushing his lips against yours, sinking in the warmth that blossoms in his chest. 

“i love you.” he says delicately when he pulls away, tugging a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “i’m so glad the universe chose you for me.” 

the fond smile on your face falters as a tear rolls down your cheek and your bottom lip begin to quiver, the violins playing in the long-forgotten movie adding more melancholy than needed to this moment. 

yukhei’s heart breaks as he watches you avoid his gaze and desperately blink away the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. but he knows that you two will make it, that the distance is merely temporary. and he knows you know it too. what you and him have is so strong. 

“hey, look at me.” he whispers.

you turn towards him, your eyes curiously examining his face.

“i’m gonna come home. to you.” yukhei places a kiss on your forehead. “and it won’t be long. think about it baby, i’ll be out this time next year and we could be living together by then.”

“i can’t wait for that.”

“me too. you’ll get to wake up next to me everyday, but you’ll have to teach me how to not burn our pancakes for breakfast until they’re perfect.”

at last, the corners of your lips twitch and you chuckle into the sleeve of your sweater. 

“how does that sound?”

“waking up to you everyday or the pancakes?”

“me coming home. and us living together.”

“like a dream come true.”

a moment passes as you smile at each other in a placid silence. 

yukhei cups the side of your face with one hand, brushing over your cheekbone and memorising every little detail that adorned your face and made him feel at home no matter where he is. you lean into his touch, reveling in the warmth of his palm. 

the fact that he only has one more day until he will have to wait months before he gets to be with you like this again makes his heart swell in longing. so he holds you close, enjoying the moment while he still can. 

-- 

the first time yukhei told you he loved you, it was an accident — not really. 

that morning, he was awoken by a ball of fur nuzzling against his bare shoulder.

he opened his eyes, looking around the room for a good minute before spotting a familiar siamese cat that was perched at the foot of the bed and observing him with its soft gloomy eyes like it had been waiting for him to wake up for the longest time. 

“good morning, louis.” 

the cat meowed once as if announcing its disappointment in yukhei before hopping off the bed and making its grand exit by squeezing through the slim door gap.

yukhei shrugged, reaching for his phone that had been charging on the nightstand right by the bed. a quick look at the time and date on his lock screen refreshed his memory, vaguely reminding him of the events of the night before. 

he crashed against the mattress and let out a muffled groan into the pillows, shuddering at the thought of how much alcohol he had downed. he was absolutely regretting his idea of not having a birthday party, but instead an entire night of drinking to celebrate turning his legal age. 

his final hours of being seventeen were fun, though. ten, kunhang, and a couple of other friends brought him to an upscale steakhouse located in the city’s nightlife district. but like every other boys’ night out, the night eventually descended into borderline chaos. in last night’s case, they went through too many rounds of drinking games and yukhei soon came to the realisation that he was the type to get all giggly and sappy when intoxicated. 

yukhei threw the covers over himself and ignored the dryness in his throat, ready to slip back into slumber but he couldn’t. something felt off. he grabbed his phone again and there you were, smiling back at him in his lockscreen wallpaper. 

oh no.

flashbacks of how he had asked for you last night and proudly claimed that you were “the one” for him came running back to him. he quickly unlocked his phone, checking his text messages. 

[to: ♥][sent at 1:55AM]

hey baaby

baby

i miss u ;(

ii'm still with ten and. kunhang

he mahde me drink so muhch hheheehe

babyy reply me plz 

i can seee u readin all of thiks :(

i miss You

[from: ♥][sent at 1:56AM]

oh my god yukhei

are you okay?

wru now???

[to: ♥][sent at 1:58AM]

hi bab

im OK

at tens place now…

he has 2 catss. theyre so Cute 

anyway 

i need to tell u sometxhing

its rneally imbportant

and that is i love u 

u make me so happi

u r so pretttyjf n soooo smart

ur alsoreally kind.. lwiterally an angel

hdeheheheheheee

im so lucky to be youre boyfrjend

becayuse i get to see Ur smile everyyday. hold your hand whenegver i want

onlyi can call u Baby

did u know ? 

i bet u djd not ;)

i l o v e LOVE you 

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

[incoming call from: ♥] 

declined.

[incoming call from: ♥] 

declined.

[from: ♥][sent at 2:00AM]

why aren’t you picking up yukhei

you’re making me worried now

are you okay :( 

[to: ♥][sent at 2:15AM]

hey _____, ten here. don’t worry about xuxi! he just passed out on my couch. 

[attachment: 1 image]

i’m just gonna let him crash here tonight since my parents aren’t back anyway. feel free to pop by in the morning btw, i think he would be really happy. and sorry for texting you at this hour!! goodnight :D

yukhei stared at his phone screen blankly, the jumbled letters of his drunk texts burning into his eyes. there was also that picture of him sprawled across the leather couch in ten’s living room in deep slumber, with his shirt completely unbuttoned and a party hat strapped to his forehead like a unicorn.

“morning, birthday boy.” 

yukhei’s heart jumped. he jammed his thumb against the button on the side of his phone, turning around to find ten’s head poking out of the door. 

“how are you feeling?” ten asked. yukhei sat up immediately when he saw a glass of water in his friend’s hand. “like shit, i’m guessing.”

ten sat himself down at the foot of the bed, handing the water to an eager yukhei who gulps it all at one go.

“close enough. i feel like i’ve been run over by a bus.” yukhei replied, coughing to clear the raspiness in his voice. 

ten hummed. “well, your girl came over with a lot of food. i think you’ll feel better after eating.” 

yukhei’s eyes widened, his voice lowering into a whisper. “she’s here? now?”

“sort of. she went out to get coffee with guanheng but they should be back soon.” ten narrowed his eyes at yukhei, trying to read the look on his face. “what’s wrong?” 

“nothing.” 

“uh huh.” ten snorted. “you suck at lying.” 

“okay, fine. i might have spammed her with some texts last night while i was wasted.”

“oh yeah, i saw those. you were crying for her for at least thirty minutes last night by the way.”

“fuck.” yukhei let out a groan. “let’s not talk about that. not now please, ten-ge.” 

“okay, okay.” ten smirked. “only because it’s your birthday. now, continue.”

“i told her i love her. like, love love her.” 

“oh.” ten paused, his expression fading into one of confusion. “wait, i don’t get it. is that a bad thing?” 

“no, no. it’s not.” yukhei cut in quickly, glancing at the door every few seconds nervously. “it’s just—i haven’t told her that before!” he whisper-shouted. 

“i don’t know how she reacted to it! what if she doesn’t feel the same?”

ten burst into laughter right away, his eyes squinting into crescents. “oh, xuxi. you’re so cute when you’re in love, you know?” 

“i really don’t think you have to worry about her not feeling the same. but i do think you should go tell her in person soon.” 

yukhei blinked, relaxing a little when he realised that ten was probably right. the older male grinned, ruffling yukhei’s bed hair playfully before leaving the room. 

in less than five minutes the door swung open again, and yukhei tensed a little when he saw you, almost as if he had seen a ghost. he didn’t realise you were back already and had been planning to sit in anxiety by himself for thirty more minutes.

“you okay?” you chuckled as you walked over and sat next to him. 

yukhei hummed as you cradled the side of his face with one hand, your thumb smoothing away the drool crust on the corner of his lips that he didn’t even realise had been there. 

“someone clearly had a lot of fun last night.”

yukhei’s lips curled into a silly, crooked smile as you crossed your arms and pouted. your attempt at guilt-tripping him had failed completely, it endeared you instead and suddenly he felt like his drunk self bombarding you with all those confessions last night. 

your lips eventually cracked into a huge grin. you threw your arms around his shoulders, doing your best to engulf his big frame in a tight hug which made yukhei chuckle. he loved it whenever you hugged him like that or let him be the small spoon when you cuddled.

“happy birthday bub.” you coo dearly, giving each of his cheeks a loud smooch which made his face scrunch up adorably. “are you sure you’re okay?” 

“thank you, baby.” yukhei smiled, his mind completely free from his worries already. “i’m okay, just a little hungry.”

“well, it just so happens that there are loads of yummy things waiting outside. maybe even some of your favourite desserts.” you smirked enticingly as you grabbed his hand and stood up. “c’mon, let’s go eat.” 

“wait.” yukhei’s breathing stuttered, pulling you back quickly. “i need to tell you something.”

you moved into the spot between his legs, waiting for him to say something as your hands hung in the air intertwined.

“what is it?” you asked.

yukhei looked up at you, taking in the curious smile on your face. it brought so much joy and warmth to his life and he could never get tired of seeing that.

“i love you.” yukhei said, each word rolling off his tongue so naturally. “all those texts i sent you last night? i meant every single word. i love you, _____.” 

your eyes were glossy as you relaxed a little, sinking into his touch when he clasped his arms around your thighs to pull you closer. yukhei could tell you were recalling all those cheesy texts as you bit your lip shyly.

he closed his eyes just as you bent down to slot your lips against his in the most delicate way possible before whispering those three words back, as if they were only for him to hear. 

“i love you too, yukhei. you make me so happy.” 

“say it again.” yukhei asked, his voice laced with desperation even though he knew it was the first of many ‘i love you’s to come. 

your cheek was soft and warm in the palm of his hand. you grinned, closing the distance between your lips once more.

“i love you.”

it was the best birthday gift yukhei had ever received.

--

as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. 

in yukhei’s case, the past five days have flown by quickly and alas, it is the penultimate day of his short vacation. 

but he’s more than satisfied with how the week has gone by despite how short it felt. he managed to visit his family, catch up with his closest friends, recover all the hours of sleep he had lost while on duty, and most importantly, be around you literally every day of this vacation so far. he woke up and slept next to you, cooked and ate all his favourite foods with you, and interrupted every other activity with sex and cuddling sessions — and he wouldn’t have it any other way. just looking back on those moments brought a smile to his face. 

his thoughts are interrupted when the door to your bedroom opens and you walk in with a small stack of laundry in one hand. 

”thank you baby.” he says, taking the clothes he had worn in the past few days, that are now clean, from you. they’re still warm from being fresh out of the dryer, and he gets a whiff of roses when he holds them under his nose. 

“you’re very welcome.” you plop down right next to where he had been sitting cross-legged on the floor, packing his belongings. 

as yukhei stuffs his sneakers deep into the bottom of his haversack, you look at all his other things that have been laid out neatly, side-by-side, on your bedroom rug. he doesn’t pay much attention as you pick up his wallet and entertain yourself with its contents.

“is this what i think it is?” 

you ask, pulling out a small folded piece of paper that was stuffed into one of the card compartments. the look of curiosity on your face morphs into one of surprise as soon as you unfold it completely and realise what it is.

“you keep this in your wallet?”

it’s one of the few handwritten letters you mailed to him during his first month in camp when he, like every one of his teammates, had zero access to their phones and gadgets. 

yukhei still remembers how tough that period of time was. being thrown into a whole new environment and expected to adjust to a lifestyle that was the complete opposite of university life was not easy at all. not only was his freedom snatched away, he had to deal with a long list of strict rules and responsibilities dumped onto him. and as if all that wasn’t enough, he had to witness his newly-made friends live through the countless military break-up horror stories he heard from his seniors.

it was a lot, but he got through each day thanks to the camaraderie he shared with his team and those letters you had mailed him, since they were the only form of communication he had with you. 

“yeah. it got me through some tough times, you know.” yukhei admits, watching you read through your own words. 

each letter was detailed with updates on your life and things his mum told you to convey to him. they all ended with a short paragraph of best wishes and sweet words which yukhei appreciated very much because he was absolutely sick of hearing about duty and honour.

yukhei had no idea he was so sentimental. he’d reread those letters in your voice, stare at your handwriting, and hold it up to his nose to get the faint scent of your perfume. it was like a piece of you — which was what he needed to fight the homesickness gnawing at him. 

“maybe you should write to me.” you mumble, refusing to look at him as you slid the letter back into his wallet. “i mean, if you’re not too busy. i would love getting mail from you even though we can text and facetime now.”

“i’ll try to, baby.” yukhei smirks. “my good morning and goodnight texts not enough for you?” 

“no,” you drawl, rolling your eyes playfully. “i love waking up to a bunch of heart and rose emojis.” 

yukhei laughs, going back to packing his things while you roll his clothes into bundles that would help him save space. after a short while of teamwork between you two, his haversack is stuffed and he’s done.

“don’t forget these,” you hand him his leather glasses case that had been sitting on your bedside table. then you’re on your feet, pacing around the room as your eyes scan every inch of the space, looking out for anything he might’ve missed. 

“i’ve looked everywhere earlier.” yukhei tells you before getting on his feet too. he stretches his arms high above him and lets out a silent yawn. “i think that’s it.”

“okay.” you answer in a small voice. 

now that you’re done helping him pack, there’s just one last thing left to do and it just happens to be the hardest task of all — you’ll have to say goodbye to him this time, tomorrow, at the train station.

that realisation settles between the two of you, once again compelling yukhei to make the most out of the time he has left. with a sad smile he holds his arms out, instantly drawing you into his embrace like a moth of a flame. you squish your cheek against him, hands locked behind his back as he hugs you warm and securely. 

“you need to stop working out so much, your abs are hard enough.” your voice comes out slightly muffled. “by the time you’re out, i’m gonna be hugging a rock.” 

yukhei grins at your words, bursting into full-blown giggles when your fingers poke into his sides and smooth across his tummy. the faint muscle lines that were there before he enlisted were now more defined, some even visible through the cotton fabric of his t-shirt. 

“you say that like i have a choice, baby.” he replies. “i can’t just sit aside while everyone else does seventy push-ups and ten laps around the field.”

you let out a disgruntled noise and hugged him even tighter, as if you were trying to mold your body into his. 

“and you like it. admit it.” yukhei teases. 

“i do.” you murmur. “you smell so good, by the way.” 

yukhei giggles at how quickly you switched the topic.

“it’s that detergent you’re using. i wish my clothes smelled this nice when i’m there.” 

“i’m talking about you, bub. the way you smell. my hoodie doesn’t smell like that anymore.” 

“the way i smell?” yukhei laughs. “and i think you mean my hoodie.” 

“it’s been mine for a while now.”

“well, wanna give it back to me? since it lost its purpose.” 

“okay. i’ll trade it for this shirt.” 

you tug on the hem of his shirt as you look up at him, eagerly waiting for his response. it’s moments like this where yukhei wonders if you know you have him in the palm of your hand.

“whatever you want, baby. i’ll give it to you.”

the lovestruck smile on his face widens as he places a kiss on your forehead, drawing circles on your back. 

“can i have it now then?” you ask innocently, but yukhei’s ears pick up the hint of playfulness in your tone. 

“right now?” he asks.

“yeah. what’s stopping you?”

“oh, i’ll give it to you now.” yukhei tells you lowly.

the cheeky smile on your face morphs into an ‘o’ shape as his grip on your waist tightens, guiding you towards the bed where you both crash against the mattress. there’s a moment of silence as he hovers over you, suavely tugging his shirt off with one hand and dropping the crumpled fabric next to your face. 

“thanks.” you whisper.

it’s hard to ignore the way your core is perfectly aligned with his when you’re lying underneath him in a hoodie and a pair of grey boyshorts that have been testing his patience for a while now.

yukhei runs his hands up your thighs to your sides, bunching the hoodie up to your chest. wet open-mouthed kisses are left all over the smooth expanse of your tummy and he takes delight in how hard you’re breathing.

“it’s no problem, baby.” he replies nonchalantly, his fingers pulling at the waistband of your boyshorts. “anything else you want before i take this off?”

you shake your head and shoot him a silly smile, and it’s all yukhei can remember before he embarks on yet another mission to please you with his mouth. then he makes love to you again, his warm touch roaming every inch of your body which he memorises to perfection. 

later, when you’re both sated and holding onto each other like two long-lost lovers, yukhei dreams of you again. this time, he’s hiding another velvet box in an even bigger bouquet of roses as he sits nervously in a dimly lit living room, waiting to surprise you when you get home. 

the thought of you being his forever is enough to make him smile in reality, enough to push him through the upcoming months of separation. yukhei was more than ready to be done with that. 

--

it’s only been a minute since you’ve gotten home but the place already feels too big for one person — which is laughable because your apartment isn’t even that huge to begin with. now that yukhei is gone, it feels as if life has been sucked out of these four walls. it has reverted back to nothing more than a roof over your head and a living space for one.

after hanging your coat up and stepping out of your shoes, you stroll to the kitchen and lean against the counter, staring into thin air with the refrigerator whirring softly behind you.

even though it’s only three in the afternoon, it has been an awfully long day for you. the few hours you spent outside drained you and all you did was sit at a restaurant with yukhei and his family for one last meal before sending him off at the train terminal. 

the meal was nice and the send-off was not as bad as you thought it would be. but it was still an emotional farewell and you shed a few tears despite it being nowhere as difficult as the first time he had to leave you. 

you and yukhei stood at the train platform hand in hand until the train finally arrived and came to a stop in front of everyone. 

you let ten and kun attack your boyfriend with their bro hugs first, followed by mrs wong who affectionately caressed her son’s face and repeated her fifth “take care of yourself, my little soldier boy” of the day, and lastly, a less-emotional mr wong who gave his son a few encouraging pats on the back.

looking around, you were filled with dread as you watched the same thing happen with every other soldier who was hugging their loved ones and waving goodbye to them.

when everyone left and when it was just you and him again, yukhei instantly pulled you into his arms, clearly just as reluctant as you are to face this moment.

this was it.

he pulled back, cupping your cheeks and smiling at you forlornly. you stared back at him, taking in how smart he looked in his uniform and the beret framing his beautifully sunkissed face, and mustered all the strength in you to not cry. 

it was impossible. tears swelled in your eyes within seconds and you couldn’t help it, the harder you tried to force them away, the more they wanted to spill out. you silently chided yourself for how naive you were to have wished for a tear-free farewell.

“don’t cry, baby.” yukhei pleaded softly, his big eyes looking watery too. “remember what i said?”

you swiped your tears away with the sleeve of your turtleneck and nodded frantically, not trusting your voice at the moment. 

“i’m gonna come home to you. we’re going to live our lives together.”

his voice was soft yet grounded with conviction, calming you down instantly and offering you the consolation you needed. 

“i’ll be waiting for you.” your voice croaked and you rolled your eyes at how pathetic it sounded.

“i know you’ll be.” yukhei smiled, gently stroking your back. “and you’ll be getting your first letter really soon, i promise.” 

“something else i get to look forward to.” 

you tightened your arms around him, closing your eyes to really savour what it felt like to be in his arms one last time before forcing yourself to let go. 

yukhei interlocked your hand with his, pressing a kiss to the back of it and stealing a glance at your favourite ring.

“i love you so much.” you said, adjusting the collar of his uniform thoughtfully. “eat well and be safe, okay? don’t worry about me. you know you can call me—”

he intercepted you with a long kiss to your lips, letting go only when you pinched his arm. unlike him, you weren’t bold enough to be this affectionate in public. 

“i will.” yukhei answered breathlessly. “promise me you’ll sleep early and not overwork yourself while i’m away. i need you to take care of yourself too.” 

“i promise.” you mumbled, locking your pinky with his as you looked around anxiously. “you should get going now. don’t want you missing your train.” 

he squeezed your hand to bring your attention back to him. “i love you.” 

“love you too.”

and with a final kiss to your lips, his hand loosened from yours, reaching for his haversack on the ground and swinging it over his shoulder in one go. 

“text me once you’ve settled down?”  

“i will, baby.” 

after one last peck to your forehead, he turned around and trudged towards the edge of the train platform, where kunhang had been taking pictures with his sisters while waiting. you stood rooted to the ground as you watched your boyfriend’s figure become smaller, waving at him when he turned around to look at you one final time before getting onto the train. 

ten and kun kindly gave you a lift home afterwards. you nearly teared up again when you walked past the parking lot and spotted the two of them patiently waiting for you in the comfort of their heated car. on the way home, they even made dinner plans and insisted you didn’t spend the rest of the day alone — which you were extremely grateful for. 

you still have a few hours to yourself before meeting them, and it dawns on you that you should probably take a short nap after the sad amount of sleep you got last night. so you force yourself to stop moping and drag yourself to your bedroom to find a comfy set of clothes.

you spend what feels like hours under the hot shower that by the time you step out of the steamy bathroom, the skin of your fingers are wrinkly. just as you start combing your hair, your phone buzzes, its screen lighting up to show you a single notification. 

you whisk it off the table, gaping at the sight of yukhei’s name staring back at you. 

[from: yukhei][sent at 4:10PM]

hey baby i miss you ♥

[to: yukhei][sent at 4:10PM]

miss you too :(

you guys back there already?

[from: yukhei][sent at 4:11PM]

we’re still on the train

i didn’t get to nap. kunhang snored so loudly :(

[to: yukhei][sent at 4:11PM]

poor baby… 

[from: yukhei][sent at 4:11PM] 

it’s fine

your boyfriend is a strong man. a day without a nap is nothing :D

you snort at his reply. the typing icon appears next to his name so you wait for his next text. 

[from: yukhei][sent as 4:12PM]

anyway, i left a surprise in your desk drawer for you

i think you already know what it is ;)

you don’t. 

[from: yukhei][sent at 4:12PM]

i hope you like it baby ♥ 

you never know what to expect from yukhei because he’s always surprising you with the sweetest, most meaningful gestures. even the story behind your promise ring has you in wonder still. when you pull open the drawer and realise just what he had left for you, a huge grin spreads across your face and you take a second to appreciate the sight of it. he was truly something else.

there, carefully placed on top of the paperwork you had kept in the drawer, is an envelope with your name on it.

“yeah. you’ll be getting your first letter really soon, i promise.” 

you reach for it, immediately peeping inside when you notice it’s unsealed. there was indeed a letter as yukhei had promised. you recognize the lined paper that he clearly tore off from one of your notebooks and assume he wrote this secretly while you were sleeping. the mental image of that melts your heart. 

to _____, my favourite girl in the world.

i have been staring at this blank piece of paper for ten minutes now while you’re sleeping so peacefully. i still don’t know what i should write for my first letter, so here’s an old-fashioned love letter from your admirer for life, your boyfriend, and your future husband: me <3 

you giggle to yourself like an idiot. it’s funny how a single paragraph could switch your mood instantly, how yukhei manages to make you happy even though he’s so far away now. 

was that too cheesy? i’m sorry. you know i’m not a poetic person even though i wish i am. you’ll probably laugh as you read on but that’s okay, because i want you to be happy whenever you read this. 

so where should i begin? 

how about the first time we met? when i saw you sitting at the back of mum’s restaurant, i had butterflies in my stomach (is this how that phrase goes?) and quickly hid in the kitchen. do you remember? 

the smile on your face grew as you continued reading yukhei’s letter. it spoke of the vivid details of all your firsts in your relationship, of the little habits you have that he adores. of the warmth and safeness he feels when he’s around you, of how in awe and inspired he is by you — and how lucky he is to get to experience all that for the past few years and hopefully, the rest of his life. 

by the time you reach the end, you’re laughing and crying. you miss him so much.

i love you, _____. nothing else matters. you’re the light of my life and i hope i can keep making you feel the way you make me feel: safe, happy, and loved. 

until we meet again,

wong yukhei

p.s. i hope you’re not crying. and if you are i really hope it’s because i made you laugh too much. 

you reread the letter again, letting his voice linger in your head for a bit because you’re not ready to let it go yet. then you laid on the bed for a good fifteen minutes as you stared at the ceiling with his letter clasped to your chest, yearning for his presence all over again. 

it’s going to be fine, you tell yourself. you can handle a few months without him. after all, you already have. and he’s never completely away from you, you realise, as you hold your hand up and admire the gorgeous ring shining in the afternoon sunlight. 

for now, that’ll do. 

--

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Traditions of the Court

Fandom: Criminal Minds (Royalty AU)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Summary: You grew up around Spencer, since his mom was your teacher growing up. You two grow up together and he ends up taking his mother’s place, while you become ready to become Queen. But what’s to happen when you and he realize that you have feelings for each other?

A/N: this is like 3.5k words because I didn’t feel like breaking it up into chapters. Anyway, sit back, relax, and enjoy!

“But mother-”

“No, Y/N. You need to attend your classes like everyone else. Just because you’re the princess, doesn’t mean you can’t get an education like the other children in the court.”

You groan as you drag yourself into the library where several other children of royal court members are. Mrs. Reid’s face lightens up when she sees you, “Y/N, dear! Wonderful! We’re just about to start! Take any available seat and we’ll get started.”

You sigh as you trudge over to an empty seat near the back next to a boy who doesn’t look like a he’d be a child of the court, “Who’re you?” the young boy is startled when you address him and pushes his glasses up his nose, “I’m, um, Spencer. Spencer Reid. My mom’s the teacher.”

“Are you even allowed to be here?”

He nodded, “Yes, uh, the Queen, your mother, said it was alright. Do-Do you want me to move, Princess Y/N?”

You sigh and shake your head, “No, it’s okay. And you can just call me, Y/N.”

“Oh, okay, Y/N.” Spencer mumbles and goes to pay attention to his mother’s instructions. Throughout class, he sees you looking sad, dejected. So while his mother is helping another student, he leans over, “Are you okay?”

You shrug, “Not really fond of going to class.”

“How come?”

“I don’t think it’s very interesting. I’d rather be learning how to defend myself with my father and the Royal Guards.”

“Well, if you’re going to be queen someday, it’s important for you to know this stuff. The geography of our kingdoms and surrounding kingdoms, the history of our country and your family, how to speak publically, appear proper, all of that stuff.”

You look at him a little confused, “You’re not even a court member’s child. Why are you here? It’s not important for you.”

He shrugged, “I like to learn new things, plus, I’ll be taking over teaching when my mom gets too old. So it’s better to learn stuff now rather than later. I remember all kinds of stuff.”

You hummed, looking down at the books in front of you, “Think you can help me then? Since all of this isn’t my kind of thing?”

“S-Sure.”

It was during class and the extra tutoring on the side that you and Spencer ended up getting close. From when you were seven year olds up to when you were eighteen, he’d been by your side. He’d read while you attended your fencing and archery lessons. He’d wait for you while you shadowed your parents during court meetings. He was there when your father died due to an unknowing heart attack. He was there for it all until...

“You’re leaving me?” you looked at him with saddened eyes. 

“It’ll only be for a few years. I want to travel around and learn as much as I can before I come back and take my mother’s place as the court’s educator.” his hands rest on your shoulders and you look down in solemn, “It’s not forever, Y/N.”

“But we’re always together, Spence. You’ve been there for everything and-and-”

“Do you want me to stay?” he asks softly. You look up at him and he asks again, “Y/N, do you want me to stay? If you do, then I’ll stay.” you search his eyes and see that he’s completely serious. But you also see the yearning in his eyes, the need to explore and learn more.

“I do, but I won’t ask you to say. I can’t be selfish with you, Spencer.” you sigh and choke back a sob, “You’ll write to me, right?”

“Every chance I get,” he says with a smile and he pulls you into a hug, “I’ll miss you, Y/N.”

You hug him back with a sigh, “I’ll miss you too, Spencer.”

3 Years Later

Spencer leans against the carriage watching landscape and farmlands pass by. It’s been seen he’s left his home. In the three years he’s earned higher levels of education, learned so many new things, met so many new people. And then when his three years was up, he was going back home. 

He was so anxious to be home again. In a good way and a bad way. Good because he gets to see his mother again, bad because, well, he’ll be seeing you again. 

Within his first year abroad, you and Spencer exchanged letters. When the second year rolled around, the letters lessened. Eventually, the third year, he received no word from you. He didn’t know if something happened or if you just no longer wanted to keep contact. Either way, he didn’t send a letter back to you, not wanting to be a nuisance. 

Growing up by your side, a love blossomed within Spencer. A love for you. Yes, you struggled with your lessons, but the more Spencer helped, the more you were able to get it. Eventually, you didn’t need him to tutor you anymore, but you still wanted him around. You two played with each other, read in the library. You tried to teach him fencing, but that didn’t go well. Despite your differences, you found friendship within one another. And for Spencer, he found love. 

He was fourteen when he realized he loved you. You and he were in the gardens. He sat under a tree reading while you went around collecting flowers. He didn’t look up until he heard you giggling. 

He saw the mischievous look in your eyes, “What are you up to?”

“Nothing. I have a gift for you.”

“What is it?” from behind your back, you pulled out a flower crown you’ve woven together of branches and flowers, “That’s for me?”

“Yup!” you bend down to rest it on his head, “There. You’re the king of the gardens now!” you giggled, sitting beside him and resting along the trunk of the tree. 

Spencer looks to you and he feels his breath hitch when he sees that soft smile on your lips. You looked so pretty, so happy. He imagined leaning in and kissing you, but that wasn’t right. You’re the princess and he’s just the son of your teacher. You could never be.

From then on, despite his ever growing love for you, he kept his feelings hidden. And it broke his heart when he told you that he was leaving. It broke his heart even more when you stopped exchanging letters with him. 

But all of that must be pushed aside. He has a job to do now.

__________

“This is so unnecessary,” you groan at the big poofy dress you were currently trying on. Your friends, Emily and Jennifer, or as she liked to be referred to as JJ, both snicker at you, “Tradition is tradition,” Emily jests and you roll your eyes. 

“Once I’m queen, to Hell with tradition,” you grumble, causing your friends to snicker more, “No more poofy dressed or corsets forced upon me or any lady of the court!” Your bedroom doors swing open and you dive behind the changing screen with a yelp. You peek from behind and see Penelope rushing in.

“Oh, it’s you, Penelope,” you step out from behind the changing screen.

Penelope practically stumbles over to you, slightly out of breath, “I-I-You-You need to-” she stops, clutching her sides, “Hold on,” you, Emily, and JJ smirk at each other in amusement and Penelope straightens up, “You will not believe who I saw!”

“Do tell, my analyst friend.”

“Spencer Reid!” she exclaimed with a squeal. 

Emily and JJ sat up, “Spencer Reid? As in our teacher’s son?” JJ asked.

“The Spencer who attended lessons with us and the one that Y/N was sooo in love with when we were children?”

You scowled at your friends, marching over to your bed and whacking them with your pillow, “I wasn’t in love with him!”

“Yes, you were!” the three women, proceeding to giggle at your frown. 

“Whatever! We haven’t exchanged letters within a year and a half. I don’t owe him my presence and I don’t expect him wanting to see me.”

Your door begins to open again and, with another yelp, you dive back behind the changing screen. 

You hear your mother’s voice as she greets the three ladies in your room and then she addresses you, “How does the gown fit, Y/N?”

You frown when you come out from behind the screen once more, “I hate it.”

“As did I when I was your age.”

“So why do I have to wear it?!”

Your mother sighs and shakes her head, “Y/N, this dress has been passed down for decades. Many women from the royal family wore this dress on their twenty-first birthday. It has a special significance in this family. And since you’re part of this family, you’re wearing it.”

You mumble out a, “Fine,” and your mother nods, “Perfect. Now change out of that and hang it. Also, someone would like to see you in the gardens. Don’t keep them waiting.”

Your mother leaves and once she’s gone, Emily, JJ, and Penelope help you out of your gown and corset.

_____________

Spencer has never felt so unsure about himself. Despite your lack of contact, he never once stopped thinking about you, never stopped caring about you. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he shouldn’t have requested your presence at all. He slips your birthday present back into his satchel and he’s ready to leave, but he hears your voice and it makes him freeze.

“You requested to see me, sir?”

He turns around and he’s taken back. In the three years he’s been away, you’ve grown into a beautiful young woman. The day that your day gown hangs around your body, the way that the sunlight hits your skin, it creates this glow about you that makes you seem...ethereal. 

“S-Spencer,” you practically whisper.

He approaches you but still keeps some distance away, “Hi, um, Y/N-Princess-Princess Y/N?”

You can’t help the giggle that escapes you, “Y/N is still fine, Spencer.”

“Oh. Okay, um,” he opens his satchel and digs out your present, “Happy birthday.” he holds it out and you see that it’s a book with a ribbon of your favorite color wrapped around it.

You take it, undoing the ribbon and flipping open the book. You see Spencer handwriting and your name written out - Dear Y/N...

You flip through other pages, seeing your name at the header and he proceeds to tell you what he’s done throughout his day, what he’s learned. You see little doodles, pressed leaves and flowers within the pages. 

You close the book and look back at Spencer, “What is this?”

“After our letters stopped, I-I don’t know-I felt the need to continue to write to you so I started a journal. Telling you everything about my time away from home.”

“Why?”

“...Because I missed you.”

“If you missed me, you shouldn’t have stopped writing me back.”

Spencer looks at you with confusion, “I didn’t stop writing you back. You stopped writing me back!”

“No, I didn’t!”

“Yes, you did! I sent two or three letters within weeks of each other and I never heard a word back! You just stopped replying!”

“Princess Y/N,” you look back to see Lady Strauss looking at you with a stern gaze, “You’re needed at court.”

You clench your jaw and look back to Spencer, “I need to go,” you push the book back to Spencer and pick up your gown, walking away from him. You pass Lady Strauss with a nod and she watches you head to the court room.

Lady Strauss then turns to Spencer, “Know your place, boy. She’s a princess. You’re a teacher. You’re from two different worlds. It’s not meant to be.” with that, the older woman leaves, leaving Spencer to feel confused and dejected.

____________

“The audacity of him!” you gasp when your handmaidens pull at the strings of your corset, “He really thinks that I stopped replying to his letters? Why would I? How could I? And erase our years of friendship together? I can’t believe him!” you gasp again and your maidens apologize, “It’s alright. These things are just....horrendous,” you grumble.

It took hours to get you ready for your birthday ball, but you were ready. You waited for everyone to enter the ballroom, standing by your mother’s side. This was supposed to be a happy event, but you just felt so sad and angry. 

“Smile, darling. It’s a joyous occasion,” your mother mumbles before the doors swing open for you two to enter the ballroom. You put on a fake smile and entered the room, everyone bowing as you passed them. 

“Everyone, please enjoy yourselves!” your mother announced. The band started up again and you immediately went for some wine. 

“Already?” you hear as you gulp down an entire glass. You turn to see JJ and Emily smirking at you.

You roll your eyes, “I’ve had a long day.”

“So...how was seeing Spencer again?” JJ asked with a smirk and you narrowed your eyes at her, “What? Word travels fast!”

You took another glass of wine, gulping that down, “I swear, Jennifer, you’ll turn out to be likes these gossiping hags,” you muttered, causing Emily to burst into laughter. 

“If it wasn’t your birthday, Y/N, I would pour wine over that hideous dress.”

“Please, do.”

You smile at your best friends as you hook your arms around theirs, “Now let’s go mingle, ladies.”

______________

After dinner, your mother stood up, wine glass in hand, “Everyone. I’d like to thank you again for coming tonight to celebrate my Y/N’s twenty-first birthday. Not only does this year signify you finally becoming a woman, Y/N, it also means that this will be the year that you will find a husband.” you nervously gulp as your mother raises her glass up, everyone, including you, doing the same.

“To Princess Y/N!”

“To Princess Y/N!” 

Like earlier before, you gulped down your wine, excusing yourself for some air. You move to a balcony that overlooks the kingdom. The cool air refreshes your face. The music and festivities continue inside while you’re trying to calm yourself outside.

“Are you okay?” you jump, hearing a sudden voice. 

You look over your shoulder to see Spencer. He’s in a white button-up with black slacks. It’s not as luxurious as what the other men are wearing inside, but you had admit he still looks good.

You look back out to the kingdom when you ask, “What are you doing here? I don’t recall you being invited.”

“My mom was invited and I’m her plus one,” he states as he joins you at the stone railing of the balcony. He lets out a deep breath and rests his drink onto the platform, “What happened to us, Y/N?”

“You stopped-”

“I didn’t. But apparently neither did you, so it begs the question: who stopped our letters from reaching each other?”

“Princess Y/N,” you both turn around to see Lady Strauss, “You should really be mingling with your guests inside instead of this peasant boy.”

Spencer’s jaw clenches and nose flares in anger. For the second time today, Lady Strauss has interrupted you both and has insulted Spencer. Again, you excuse yourself from Spencer’s presence. 

“What did I say-”

“She looked upset. I was just checking on her, that’s it,” he sneers and moves to leave, but Lady Strauss grabs him tightly by the wrist, “Stay away from her, boy. You can never be together. What do you have to offer her? A sickly mother and an annoying array of knowledge? You have nothing to provide for a princess. So whatever silly feelings you had for her growing up, get rid of them,” she sneers and let’s go of his wrist. 

Spencer rubs his wrist as he goes back to his mother. How does Lady Strauss know so much about him?

________________

Spencer allowed his mother to continue teaching until the end of the month. In the meantime, he’d be refreshing up on information in another part of the library, while also doing a secret project on the side. The librarian and historical analyst, Penelope, aided him whenever he needed. Penelope had a certain set of skills that were very helpful on finding certain information. 

“So what Sir Derek from the Royal Guards told me that he heard from Lady Emily that she heard from Lady JJ that she-”

“Penelope-”

“Right! So, Strauss assigned some men to interfere with your letters. According to whoever our sources may be, she didn’t like how you two got very close, thus ruining her plans of getting our dearest princess wedded to her son.”

“It was her behind this all along. That-That-That hag! Because of her, I’ve lost my friendship with Y/N and now I may never get to tell her how I really feel!”

“Well, my knowledgeable friend, our dear princess will be coming in soon to read to some of the court’s children. You can tell her then!”

Spencer liked the idea but he shook his head, “I can’t. Despite my anger towards Lady Strauss, she’s right. Y/N and I are from two different worlds. If she did return my affections and we did end up together, I’m to be king alongside her. I’m not king material, Penelope.”

The analyst shrugged, “You’re kind, loyal, caring, logical, strategic. Sounds like a king to me.”

“But I can’t protect the kingdom if need be. I never found interest in swordfighting or archery.”

“Y/N does, so that means you don’t need to worry about that.”

“But still Y/N. I’m...I’m not enough.”

“Let me decide on that,” Spencer heard your voice and looked up to see you standing there some distance away. 

“Y/N!” he stood up abruptly, “I-uh-”

“Uuuuhhh coming!” Penelope cried out and scrambled away from the two of you. 

You slowly approached him and he gulped, “H-How much of that did you hear?”

“Which part? The part about Lady Strauss being a scheming hag? Or the part about you having affections for me and being afraid that I won’t return the sentiment?”

“Y/N-”

“I was so heartbroken when your letters stopped coming in. I thought-I thought you no longer wanted to speak to me, that you found comfort in someone else. I loved you and I felt my heart shatter when I didn’t hear a peep from you. And now it turns out that one of my mother’s advisors was behind my heartbreak and not you. It’s...overwhelming.”

“You loved me?” Spencer asked in disbelief and you nodded, “I thought it was obvious, honestly. How I always wanted to spend time you, how I barely entertained being the presence of other boys.”

“I thought it was because we were best.”

“No, it was because I loved you. And seeing you again on my birthday, despite me being upset with you, everything came rushing back. I don’t think I ever really stopped loving you, Spencer.”

“Neither did I,” he breathed out, hands coming up to cup your face, “May I-May I kiss you?”

“Please,” you whispered, leaning in for your lips to meet his. The kiss was soft and gentle and everything you always imagined a first kiss to be. 

When you both pull away for air, you’re both smiling and chuckling, relishing the feeling of being in each other’s arms.

“Marry me,” he murmurs.

“What?”

“We’ve loved each other since we were children. And I can’t promise that I will be a good king, but I’m willing to learn to be, as long as you’re by my side.”

“Do you mean it?” you ask with such elatedness.

He nods, “Yes. So, will you?”

“Yes! Oh god, yes, I will marry you!” you kiss him again, but pull back with a gasp, “What will my mother say?”

“She will say that you have her blessing,” you see your mother standing there beside a nervous Penelope. 

“I’m-I’m sorry, Y/N. She was looking for you and she’s the queen and I didn’t think you two would be-well-”

You chuckle out, “It’s okay, Penelope.”

Your mother walks towards the both of you, hands clasped in front of her, “I always knew you two were meant for each other, ever since you were children. It doesn’t surprise me that you love each other and want to be with one another.” she has a fond smile on her face as she glances down at your intertwined hands.

“You really give us your blessing, mother? Even if Spencer isn’t part of the court?”

“Well, you always said that some traditions need to die out. Might as well start now,” she smiles widely and you throw your arms around her, whispering, “Thank you.”

_______________

Months later into the year, you’re standing beside Spencer wearing a beautiful red and gold dress while he stands before you wearing the most regal uniform you’ve ever seen. Your wedding, a month previous to this, was a beautiful one filled with love, tears, and kisses. 

The officiant holds out the crown above you, “I now pronounce you Queen Y/N and King Spencer. Long live the king and queen!”

With crowns donning your hands, you and Spencer stand, hand in hand, while everyone proclaims, “Long live the king and queen!”

[barricadebops]

Miserables Month Day 3: "Language"

Written for the Miserables Month @themiserablesmonth

Her Marius Pontmercy could easily be labeled sometimes as being somewhat an odd fellow.

Do not misunderstand her; for all his oddities, Cosette was still very much in love with him, but it could be quite confusing trying to parce through his rapid speeches and lines, many times only just being able to catch phrases such as "I love you" as Marius Pontmercy rushed on an on about his speech.

At the present, however, she believed her Marius was being unbearably rude. The last night they had seen each other in the garden, he had been coughing a great deal, which certainly would not do. How dare he worry her like so?

That annoyance at his rudeness, however, turned to fear as she awaited his presence in the garden, her Papa and Toussaint having already fallen deep into their sleep on account of the late hours of the night.

Why hadn't he shown up yet? She huffed and adjusted her bonnet, annoyance quickly growing once more. How very inconsiderate to keep her waiting like this! She would be having words with him later on, remind him of how important it was to be on time to receive a lady.

A snap of a twig outside the garden gates caught her attention, and already having recognized the familiar weight of the footsteps, she rushed forwards towards the great gates, and whispered out, "Monsieur, is that you?" When no response came, she crossed her arms and raised her voice just the slightest bit, "Look, monsieur, I am already cross with you, do not aggravate me any further. Honestly, is this any to treat a lady? Making her wait so long?" She turned around and refused to look at him; when no answer came, she turned back, confused. In the gleaming moonlight she could make out the lovely coiffed curls so prominent on Marius, but when she moved forward, the rest of the figure enshrouded by the night's dark jolted, slipping something between the grilled gates, and rushing away.

Curse her foolish lover and the late hour in which they meet. She could not even call out for him, lest she wake her Papa and Toussaint. Instead, she had to huff and watch as Marius Pontmercy hurried away, having avoided her on this night.

Just as she was about to head back into the manor, already planning out exactly what she would be writing in her notebook, the clouds around the moon shifted and spilled a sliver of light over what Cosette could now see was a folded slip of paper. A note.

She remembered, now, her Marius' penchant for sending notes and love letters, and as she unfolded the paper and caught sight of the scrawled lines, she could see that it was indeed the latter:

My dearest Cosette,

Oh that it is my woe that I should be separated from you on this night! I never wish to be parted from you, and yet it seems destiny seems to have other plans for my fate.

As has been the source of your consternation over these last few days, I have taken ill. The cough I had been so hoping would fade to nothing has unfortunately only grown harsher and worse. My friend, Courfeyrac—you don't know him—has taken notice to this, and has expressly forbid that I should journey outside our flat.

He is aware I have been seeing you, and yet he was still unrelenting in nt allowing me come meet when we usually do. He doesn't quite understand the workings of the heart—the most he's had have been quick flings. I beg you do not think of him poorly, however. At heart he is truly a good man.

The only way I was able to sneak out and give you this letter you now hold in your hands was when Courfeyrac had not yet returned from his meeting at the Musain—you won't know of those either. You know, he almost didn't go, was quite willing to stay by my side, but I forced him to go. He musn't miss out on his politics because of me.

My heart aches to be with you, my dearest. It is as they say—love is the best kind of medicine. I beg you hold me in your heart so that your Marius may return to you sooner than what may be too late.

Your beloved,

Marius Pontmercy

Sick? Oh how fretful! So she was justified, then, in her worry about that cough! If only she could have brough him into the manor, she would have had him in bed, at his side, ready should he need anything, and gently scolding his sleeping form for causing her such worry.

She made to fold up the letter and trudge gloomily back to her room, when a few more lines after the signature at the bottom appeared:

Je t'aime.

I love you.

Ich liebe dich

Je t'aime was all fine, and warmed her heart as she still stood, remaining in the garden. But these last two lines confused her—what on earth was this gibberish? Why did Marius believe she would know what it meant?

She hummed to herself as she stole back into the manor quietly so as not to wake Toussaint.

Perhaps her Marius had written it in a state of delirium. It was quite possible. Still, she kept the note safe on her little table.

_________________________________________

The next night was much the same. Cosette waited once more in the garden, a mix of anticipation and worry ebbing within her. If he did not return today, she thought she might faint of devastation—it was quite improper to worry a lady like this!

Again, as she spotted what she thought was Marius' curls, she hurried towards the gates, disappointed as that familiar figure rushed away once more.

She unfolded the note he had dropped with fear.

My dearest Cosette,

It seems as if this illness is a stubborn one. Courfeyrac, the friend I mentioned in my previous letter, brought over one of his friends today; he's training to become a doctor. He declared that it was nothing too serious and that I should be fine, however he was a little concerned with the way I had gone pale and started trembling. I purposefully neglected to inform him the reason for such a thing occurring was likely due more to his visit. I have not had many joyful memories of him from the first time we met.

I shall hope and pray sincerely that we meet tomorrow. I am sure God will grant me this one request. He does have much to make up for to me, anyways.

I beg you continue to think of me as I know you were doing yesterday. I could hear your whispers in the wind, calling for my name.

Your beloved,

Marius Pontmercy

And again, those three lines at the bottom, the last two still remaining a sequence of gibberish:

Je t'aime

I love you

Ich liebe dich

Her heart sunk. Her love was still ill, and so she would have to worry even more. She knew she shouldn't be concerned over whether her Marius was being well taken care of in his sick bed—the way he had spoken of this Courfeyrac made it seek as if he truly was in good hands—but she simply could not help it. She worried for her Marius. Oh curse this rainy season!

_________________________________________

That next night, Marius finally appeared back in her full sight.

The moon cast a glow over his face. His curls seemed a bit greasier, his face perhaps paler, and there were shadows that were rimmed beneath his eyes; all in all, however, Cosette still saw the handsome man who had caught her attention at the Luxembourg Gardens.

"Oh monsieur!" she cried, though in a quiet whisper as best as she could. She ran up to him, stopping short of embracing him and instead cupping her hands to his cheks. "How pale you've turned!" She drew back to glare at him. "It was very rude, you know, to have caught an illness like so; have you any idea the worry you caused me?"

It seemed as if Marius Pontmercy who was in the seventh heaven, could not muster words, only call out "Cosette!" in joy.

She crossed her arms and sat back down on her bench. "No, monsieur, I will not be having this at all! First with your illness worrying me and then your gibberish letters confusing me.".

At this, Marius Pontmercychimself turned confused. "Gibberish?" he repeated. "But I thought they were rather clear?"

Cosette waved a hand in dismissal. "Yes, yes, it was all fine and good, but then you wrote these three lines underneath, and I only know what the first one means." She drew out both the letters she had made sure to bring this time around. "See!"

She pointed to where he had written these lines, I love you and Ich liebe dich. "This is gibberish."

Marius Pontmercy glanced at the paper before softly chuckling. Cosette frowned.

"You only continue your rudeness," she said, annoyed. "I call out this serious problem, and you laugh."

When her Marius finally stops laughing and catches his breath, he further softens his eyes and said, "Cosette, I was telling you I love you."

Cosette raised an eyebrow. Yes, I know what that sounds like, but neither of them match je t'aime.

Marius knelt in front of her and took her hands in his own. A bold move. "That might be because they're in two different languages."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "Different languages?"

"Yes—you remember me telling you I'm a translator? I know English and German, those are the languages on the letters."

Cosette huffed once more and shifted her eyes to just to the right and far off from where Marius Pontmercy would sit. "Well how was I supposed to know this? And why write 'I love you' in three different languages when one is enough?"

Marius Pontmercy rubbed his thumbs on the soft skin of her palm. He tugged gently to bring her attention back to him. "It's because," he whispered softly, "I wanted you to know that in whatever language—French, English, or German—nothing will ever change this constant: that I love you."

Well, alright. Okay. So maybe Marius Pontmercy's thought of gibberish then wasn't so bad.

She smiled to herself. She would be keeping these letters safe. Especially as her Marius said, "In case it wasn't clear enough, however, let me express this in a language you understand," and he lifted the tip of her foot encased within its shoe and pressed his lips gently to it.

[theimprobabledreamersworld]

Finally got another one shot done! This is based very heavily off of a Doctor Who scene which I absolutely adore <3 Hope you enjoy!. Read on Ao3 or under the line!

General writing taglist: @psychedelicships @jwillowwolf @red-imeanblue @lost-in-thought-20 @writerwithtoomanyships (I know you’re not on my taglist @edupunkn00b but you liked the snippet I wrote for a handwriting game, so I thought you’d like to see the whole thing! <3)

If anyone would like to be added to my general writing taglist, let me know! <3

Virgil paced around the small room with anger racing through his veins. The next time he eventually sees his ‘husband’, he is going to have some extremely angry words to say to him. Over the last ten years, he has been kidnapped by Logan’s enemies seven times. Which is fine, it comes with the paperwork when you marry an international and notorious thief with an incredible track record. He just wished that he wasn’t used as leverage by so many people. He could never be sure that Logan would save him, and this time it was certainly not a guarantee because he hadn’t seen Logan for over three years. Virgil received the occasional letter but could never respond to them as he wouldn’t put a returning address. He understands that it’s just to keep him safe, that didn’t stop him from feeling angry at Logan.

Hello, Darling.

Logan/Virgil

Word Count: 2308

Warnings: Very mild cursing and threat.

He couldn’t help but jump slightly when he heard a firm knock on the door and a timid face peered around the opening gap.

“Urm… Hi. I’m Roman. I have to take you down to the office; he wants to talk.” Virgil sighed and reluctantly walked behind Roman as they took a scenic route through the building. He had to admit, this was the most comfortable kidnapping he’s ever been involved in, and when he saw the piping hot tea sitting on an elegant coffee table, it almost felt like it was going to be a polite conversation. There were no weapons this time, which was reassuring, but the several figures lurking in the shadows reduced his confidence significantly.

All of the men stepped forward at once, Virgil gulped before he was encouraged to sit down by the man in the middle. The man smiled and Virgil felt even more concerned now, it was never good when a kidnapper smiled… he knew that from experience.

“Let’s get the embarrassing details out of the way, my name in Janus. This is Patton, Roman you’ve already met and Remus. He’s a pussy cat really, don’t let the menacing face fool you. Virgil looked at each of them in turn and curled into himself a little. He genuinely didn’t know what was happening here. He looked around him for the main exits in case he needed to run away, and he saw another person who wasn’t introduced. A butler, dressed in all black was busy polishing some silverware. This made everything even more confusing for Virgil, but if they were letting the butler stick around, at least hurting or killing him wasn’t top of their agenda.

“Come now, Virgil. I’m not going to harm you, I’m just a friend of Logan’s.” Janus smiled once again, but with a sinister undertone this time and Virgil’s brow furrowed in confusion. He gulped softly before mustering the courage to talk.

“A friend?!” His voice was full of mock surprise and Janus raised an eyebrow in return, almost as if he wasn’t expecting Virgil to engage in any kind of conversation. Remus turned his head towards Virgil growled deeply, so Janus waved a hand nonchalantly and chuckled.

“Alright, alright. An enemy then.” His eyes glimmered with malicious intent and Virgil’s eyes widened at how things had taken a turn so quickly. He put on a pretense of relief and hoped Janus would buy the bravado.

“Oh… which one?” Janus’ smile dropped and his eyes began to cloud over, apparently it was clear that the time for games was over, and Virgil was silently regretting his choices in his mind. Janus slowly spun the chair around and fell into it gracefully. The room began to darken, and Virgil knew that this was where things might get messy.

“Okay, enough games. I grow weary of this. Where is Logan?” Janus slammed his hand down on the table and Virgil realised that he could gain the upper hand in this scenario. He shrugged and darted his eyes around the room.

“Haven’t the faintest idea.” All four men looked at Virgil with an incredulous look in the eye. It’s no surprise that they don’t believe him, but for once in this scenario, he was actually telling the truth. Logan could literally be anywhere. He heard a clatter and remembered the butler who had just dropped a piece of silverware, he frantically picked it up and turned his back to the group.

Janus continued to look at Virgil directly in the eyes, as if he was waiting patiently for Virgil to crumble and break down in front of him and slyly remarks “Come on Virgil, is that credible?”

“It’s truth. Go ahead. Check whatever records you may have about his last whereabouts. You’ll probably find out more than me.” He spoke with a spiteful tone and another man stepped forward with an extremely worried expression.

"B- but you're the man that he loves!" Virgil couldn’t help but laugh at the sincerity of his statement, almost as if he was talking about them like they were some kind of fairytale. He continued to laugh in their faces. The men all looked at each other, and Remus banged in fist against the table, and it brought Virgil back to the task at hand. The longer he was involved in this conversation, the more his insecurities took over and he couldn’t stop his raised voice. "No I'm not! Logan does not and has never loved me." He covered in mouth in shock at the fact that he just shouted a very false statement. Unbeknownst to Virgil, the butler flinched in the background as well.

Patton interrupts again while Janus looks on in confusion. "So my information was correct then. You are the man who loves Logan!" There was an odd mix of confusion and triumph on Patton’s face, there was nothing wrong with what he just said, but the doubt still consumed his mind.

Virgil agrees with a new-found confidence in his voice. "I never denied it. But he's Logan after all. A notorious thief. The most meticulous criminal and the cleverest soul I've ever met. If you think that someone like him is that ordinary, to be staying in love with someone like me... then you have no idea who you're dealing with." Virgil continued to adamantly make his case, yet he still remained oblivious to the butler who had gradually put down his polishing cloth and had slowly made his way closer to the centre of the room.

Janus stands in front of Virgil completely dumbfounded at this point. This clearly wasn’t the way this was supposed to go. Virgil had to admit that he didn’t think he would stay this strong for so long, but it was working. If he bought enough time, maybe… just maybe… Logan might somehow come and save him. "I was assured that you would be the perfect bait! If you were in danger. Logan would come running!"

Despite the small slither of hope Virgil felt, he knew he needed to keep it buried deep down, or he would lose this battle. He needed to keep going, they were starting to crack, he knew it. "Oh, you are a moron then!"

Janus bowed his head and took a deep breath. He regained his composure and looked at Virgil smirking with malicious intent once again before pressing a button underneath the desk. "We both know he's probably already here, he's the master of disguises and this isn't exactly the first time he's had to save you.” He chuckled smugly as a barrage of clicks echoed around the room. Virgil tried to hide the panic in his eyes, he didn’t know what was going to happen now, but the total lockdown of the room was enough to induce all of emotions to come to the foreground and he couldn’t stop what he said next. The butler was now standing directly behind Virgil, and if he had noticed, he would have realised that Janus wasn’t looking at Virgil at all. He was looking behind him that entire time.

"No he isn't. Of course, he isn't! Go on! Look around this place, send your cronies on a wild goose chase. He won't be here! I mean, you can't miss him. Stupid polo shirt, stupid tie and the stupidest pair of glasses you’ve seen. That should be a big enough clue!" He huffed as his chest rose and fell angrily, all the rage he felt when he was first brought to this place bubble to the surface. The butler coughed lightly before calling out timidly, "Virgil..."

"God knows where he is right now, but I promise you, he's doing whatever the HELL he wants because he doesn't give a damn about me!" Virgil shouted out at the ceiling; his arms raised above his head in an aggressive stance. He silently cursed the heavens themselves as the butler tried once again to get Virgil’s attention. He stood right behind Virgil’s ear and called his name once again.

“Virgil!”

He didn’t even realise that his name was being called, he was so consumed by his emotions that he let them flow like an uncontrollable stream of consciousness. "And I'm just fine with that! When you love someone like Logan, it's like loving the stars themselves. You don't expect a sunset to admire you back. And if I find myself in danger, let me tell you... Logan is not stupid enough, or sentimental enough and he is certainly not in love enough to find himself standing in it with me!!"

The room fell silent, the butler had been waiting with bated breath for Virgil to realise that he was standing next to him, but he still hadn’t noticed. So eventually, he took hold of Virgil’s wrist lightly. Virgil took a few breaths before looking once, looking twice, then looking a final time before holding his focus on the butler’s face. Virgil stared into his eyes, and they glimmer with recognition. As he gasps, the butler smiles back softly before finally whispering "Hello, Darling."

“Oh I hate you.” Virgil smirks as he realised that Logan had been in the room the whole time.

“No, you don’t. I have to admit, that was a spectacular performance you did just now.”

“Shut up!”

“I mean, I never knew you cared that much.” Their bickering was interrupted by a timid cough coming from in front of them. Logan and Virgil looked at Janus in irritation. How dare he interrupt mummy and daddy talking?! At least it confirmed one thing in Virgil’s mind, they definitely acted like an old married couple.

“Urm, I hate to break up this touching reunion, but I believe we have business to attend to.” Janus held a hand out sarcastically, motioning for Logan to give him something and he just raised an eyebrow in response.

“Oh, where are my manners? First, get rid of your boys.” Janus raised an eyebrow with a tone that screamed why should he follow his orders. Logan looked around the room, eyeing the exits and planning in his mind. Virgil stepped back and let him work, it was the best thing to do… because they are going to regret messing with Logan.

“I don’t like being outnumbered. It makes for too much stupid in the room.” Janus frowned then nodded at Roman, Patton and Remus to leave. They reluctantly make their way to the only unlocked room in the building which was located behind Janus. Remus refused to move initially until Janus snapped his fingers and Remus growled one final time before going through the door and slamming it shut.

“Well. You’re trapped now, Logan. I have the high ground here. Give me, what I want… and I won’t harm Virgil.” Janus held his hand out once again and motioned for something from Logan. It caused Logan to laugh wildly and wipe a tear from his eye. Janus stepped forward, ready to grab Virgil in order to get what he wants.

“Oh Janus, Janus, Janus. You’ve made a big mistake my friend. There is one thing you don’t put in a trap, if you’re smart. If you value your continued existence. If you have any plans of continuing your sordid little business for many years to come, there is one thing you should never ever put in a trap.” He wrapped an arm around Virgil and began to move him away from Janus, towards the now unguarded door. Janus chuckled while being oblivious to what was going on, he was adamant that he still had the high ground after all.

“And what would that be?” Virgil glanced up at Logan with adoration, Logan smirked before pulling a small device out of his pocket and raising it in front of Janus’ eyes. When Janus noticed what he was holding, he shrunk away and pinned himself against the wall.

“… Me.” Logan pressed the switch, and a thick smoke began to fill the room. Virgil heard Janus coughing as the two of them ran through the unlocked door. The coast was clear, and they kept running through the house until they were hit by bright sunlight. On the main road, Virgil stopped them and wrapped his arms around Logan, and he felt a tight grip around his waist in response. It was almost too good to be true but, deep down, he knew that Logan would have saved him. He kissed his cheek gently before staring into Logan’s ocean eyes.

“Well, after everything I’ve put you through. I definitely owe you a date. Dinner? My treat?” Virgil smiled and nodded. They took each other’s hands and headed to a car that was parked nearby. As Logan drove, Virgil stared out of the window smiling softly.

Despite it all. He wouldn’t change anything for the world. He was the husband of a thief, a thief who stole his heart many years ago… and he always would be.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Ad Libitum I

Warnings: nonconsensual sex (series, to be warned later on)

This is dark!Loki and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are face with the opportunity of a lifetime, however you might have told a rather big lie to get there.

Note: I promise my other series are still going. I have half chapters I’m chipping away at every day! For now I’ll post the intro to my first Victorian AU.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

‘For the consideration of one, Mister Everet Ede.

After a close and contented reading of your recent piece ‘The Oyster’s Wealth’ in Cornhill Magazine, I write you to present an offer upon your skills.

Your work does show potential and I believe, as an editor and an author myself, it would benefit both parties should I aid you in refining such talent. While your writing does prove adequate and at times, provoking, there is much a young writer might learn from one as esteemed and experienced as myself.

Under the marquee of my own publication, The Asp’s Tongue, and my name, I would extend to you an offer of residence and should it prove productive, a place upon my list of regular authors. 

It was only two years ago that my journal opted to discontinue our bursary for writers but it is in my own purview, aside from those of my investors, that young minds require honing and it is upon my own coffers that I do make this offer of sponsorship for your development as an author. 

Should you choose to accept, I would expect your arrival upon the first Sunday of June at my estate of Emerald Hills. You will come with all that is required for your education; nibs, ink, paper, et cetera, as well as any personal possessions required for daily existence. Your board will be allotted by manor throughout your residency. Aside from that, you would require only your wit and basic literary competency.

I expect confirmation of your acceptance by the last day of April so that I may have the manor prepared for your arrival. Tardiness in all matters will not be tolerated.

I anticipate a valuable and vibrant professional accord,

Lord Loki Laufeyson, Duke of Wynselm

Founder and Operator of Laufey’s Publishing’

You read the letter once more. The folds of the paper were deep and fragile, the corners curling from your repeated reviews. In the months since its delivery, you had memorised ever curlicue of its script. It was better than any letter of acceptance you’d ever received. The only flaw was the pseudonym across the top. One day, you hoped, it would be your true name that greeted you.

The coach rocked and you caught yourself against the side, jostled atop the hard wooden seat. You shifted in your stiff skirts and peeked out the window. There was still doubt. Still anxiety. You’d accepted the offer without a thought and without much explanation. 

What would the great lord publisher think of you? A woman masquerading as a writer? Well, you hoped that he might overcome the shock and uphold his integrity. It was your work he had read. It was your words which had driven him to write. So why should your sex change the merit of your skill?

There was a sinking feeling in your stomach. It was a slim hope you had, truly. You expected him to laugh you back to your measly London apartment like all the other editors you had ever dared face beyond the stain of your inkwell. Had this all been for not? Another prospect dissolved by that feminine curse?

Besides, even if you were a man, the Duke was infamously misanthropic. It was reported in the papers that he hadn’t left Emerald Hills in several years. That he had grown cynical of society, not so much as submitting a sentence to his very own periodicals. So it was with great surprise that you’d received his letter and with greater hesitation. His reputation was not one of a fond patron but rather a unyielding despot. 

Yet it was an opportunity you did not expect to ever occur again, so you leapt, without thinking, and now your fear bubbled in your chest. To have come all this way and to be told what you’d always been told. To be denied again. In the flesh, you could not be Everet Ede, you could not hide behind your pen. Perhaps his own penchant for artifice might soften his rigid spine.

The manor stood on the highest hill in Wynselm. The gates were locked and a solemn doorman appeared from a small shed to open them. You pulled the curtain shut, afraid you would be found out before even breaking the threshold. The coach rumbled up the winding and steep path and stopped just before the broad stone steps.

You peeked out as the driver stepped down from his perch. You waited a moment, watching the front doors of the manor. It seemed as if the entire place was dead. Abandoned, even. The driver opened your door and offered his hand to help you down. Though his service was the cheapest you could acquire, his manners suggested otherwise.

He unloaded your trunk as you clutched your valise. You thanked him as he set the heavy luggage beside your dark skirts and you offered him a coin from your purse. He accepted with a toothy smile.

“Should I wait and help you carry it in?” He asked.

You considered the offer. It might be best if he tarried in case you were swiftly dismissed. What would you do if you were stranded here? And yet, you were determined not to be turned away. Your best option might be to force your presence upon this man.

“No,” You answered staunchly and pushed your shoulders back. “You’ve been a great help, sir. You should hurry back to the city.”

“Miss,” He removed his hat. “Good day to you.”

“And you,” You nodded and watched him climb back up onto his seat.

He snapped the horse into action and their hooves clopped around and down the path until you could no longer see them. You gripped your valise even tighter and turned to the manor. The doors suddenly shifted and a man in a plain grey suit appeared. He pushed both open and stood aside as he waited silently. 

You heard footsteps from within, the tap of leather sols upon the wood. A lithe figure emerged from the shadows and the sunlight lit his pale skin. His dark hair was pushed back so that his curls gathered behind his head and his high, starched collar made his features seem even sharper. 

He stopped sharply at the top of the stairs and blinked at you. He peered around and squinted, slowly stepping forward to descend the steps. He stood straight across from you, a brow arched as he stared you down.

“Are you lost? I fear you sent away your valet much too soon, madam.” He said.

“My lord, Mr. Laufeyson?” You ventured. 

He frowned. “Everet is a rather odd name for… a woman.”

“My apologies for my deception but you must understand as an editor yourself, a woman’s name doesn’t sell stories, does it?” You let out a shaky breath. “Not that I think it should matter when my physical attributes have little bearing on my writing.”

“Even so, I do value honesty in my writers. Foremost. A lack of such in life might reflect deceit on paper.” He challenged. “And I am not equipped to house… a woman.”

“Women hardly require more than a man. Often less.” You countered. “You made an offer on the grounds of my work, I accepted on the same. I see no reason why it should be an issue. I am determined, would have to be to have a story published, devoted to say the least, and by your own words, a competent writer.”

“I did not… I was not aware…” He sighed. “You can’t expect-- After being so underhanded… How could… I cannot…”

He cleared his throat and glanced over his shoulder at the man in the grey suit.

“I’ve taken two coaches and train. I’ve packed up my livelihood in this trunk, I’ve been nothing but honest other than… my true name. You cannot claim my work as ingenuine nor my intentions. I’ve come here to write.” You declared. “I see not how my sex should preclude me from these matters. Would you argue inadequacy based upon my physical stature after proclaiming me capable previously? Sir, I would argue that should suggest a lack of honesty on your part. Not mine.”

He tilted his head and his chin jutted out in irritation. His slender fingers ran the length of his jacket and fiddled with the button.

“Well, you certainly speak like a writer.” He said. “Very well. We shall see what we can mold out of you.” He gestured to the man in the grey suit. “Horace.” He nodded to the trunk. “But do not think my standards shall bend upon your favour, madam.” He warned as the man came down to lift your trunk, barely able to drag it up the steps. “Oh, and your real name, to begin with.”

You recited your name and he spun without acknowledgement. He preceded the man he called Horace through the doors and you hurried forward to grab the other end of your trunk, your valise clutched in your other hand.

Inside, the large foyer was barely lit by the candelabras in the corners. The chandelier above was dark and dusty. You struggled to keep hold of the trunk as you followed Horace. He set down his end and bid you to do the same.

“Madam, please, I will get proper help,” He waved to the lord of manor, already halfway up the staircase. “You might leave your valise and both will be deposited in your rooms.”

“Thank you, sir,” You said before you turned to hurry up behind Lord Laufeyson.

“Your rooms are in the north wing, mine in the south. You needn’t venture very far from your own. I have a maid in the kitchen who will set out meals and Horace oversees our maintenance and the cleaning servants when they are present.” He began. “You will only be required in the bureau where you will take your lessons.”

“Yes, my lord,” You felt completely out of place. You weren’t used to such an immense house, let alone such a prestigious host. 

“Sir will do just fine,” He corrected. “Do you type, madam?”

“No.” You admitted. “I hand write my stories and they are often transcribed by the journals.”

“Mmm, well, then we should add that to the schedule.” He remarked. “I have written out your daily itinerary as you will find in your rooms. “You will wake at six, take your breakfast by the next hour as you will be expected at seven for your first lesson. Lunch will be at noon, you will be permitted recreation at three, tea the following hour, and we shall add typing practice to your evening exercises.”

“Sir,” You said as you followed him.

“This is the bureau where your lessons will be,” He opened a single door. “That…” He looked to the pair of doors at the end of the hall. “Is the library. It will be unlocked during your recreational hour though you might visit the gardens if you choose.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you attend college, madam? I understand they offer schooling for women now.”

“No,” You answered plainly. “I finished public schooling and the rest I did upon my own.”

His eyes strayed in his thoughts and he hummed.

“Well, that sort of discipline is promising, I suppose,” He said. “And you are… unmarried?”

“Yes.”

“Ah, to be expected. A husband shouldn’t allow a wife to live unaccompanied with another man. And yet, an unmarried woman should not allow herself the same discrepancy,” He remanded. “There are proprieties which must be attained. You understand?”

“Sir, I am not wholly unaware of our social bounds. I’ve travelled to write. I haven’t any interest in men to this point and I highly doubt this circumstance should change that.”

He gave a half-chuckle before he caught himself.

“I always found you urban poor had trite mouths,” He sneered. “The factories do allow for unfortunately low association. You lot do sell your morals for a penny.”

“I see no immorality in work,” You argued. “In fact, the poor can rarely afford immorality.”

He looked at you, sternly.

“Let me show you your rooms and you might accommodate yourself to the arrangements,” He gestured you back down the corridor. 

Again, you trailed behind him. The walls were lined with portraits, their frames powdered with dust and canvas washed out with age. He must’ve lived a rather small existence in this immense place. 

He stopped before another door, his fingers wrapped around the handle then he recoiled. He reached into his jacket and slipped out a key with a black ribbon threaded through its loop. He held it out to you.

“These are your rooms. Keep the time. It is late. At four I expect you to take tea in the dining room. The cook should have it upon the table by then.” He watched as you reached to take the key. “When you are finished, our first lesson shall commence in the bureau. Come prepared with a manuscript in hand. I trust you did not come without forethought, especially considering… well, I shall excuse you to acquaint yourself with your quarters.”

He bowed his head, his spine rigid and straight. He sidestepped you and you listened to his hard soles on the wooden floors. You turned as his silhouette disappeared around the sparsely lit corner, the glow of candles flickering along the columns of the rails that overlooked the foyer.

You unlocked the door, your hands unsteady as your nerves remained riled. You’d overcome the first obstacle but this man seemed greater than any challenge you’d known before. Stiff-lipped editors, boastful male writers, dismissive reviewers; you’d faced every kind of foe. 

You shut the door softly behind you, the click made you jump. You were pleasantly surprised to find it the room with the least dust. The windows were open and the curtains were freshly pressed and hung. The bed matched in its tidiness and the roll top desk against the wall was faced with a leather-cushioned chair.

The afternoon sun streamed in enough to light much of the room. Tall candelabras stood on four feet in the corners opposite of the bed. An oil lamp sat on the desk and a smaller candle holder sat on the table beside the bed. A small stool with an embroidered cushion was nestled in the corner and a chair in the French style peered out the far window.

You turned and faced the vast portrait of a man and woman. The former was silver-haired and staunch in his bearing, the woman was seated and gold waves were confined atop her head as a few ringlets framed her face in a style favoured by the previous generations. You tilted your head as you admired the artistry. It was almost as if the elegant couple was truly there before you.

A knock came at the door and you went to it. Horace was there with the man who had opened the gates. They dragged in your trunk and placed your valise at top with overly cordial ‘my lady’s’ in your direction. You wanted to snicker at the undeserved address. You thanked them and they refused a coin from your purse. You were thankful for that as you hadn’t many left.

You took your valise to the bed then returned to the trunk. You unbuckled the straps that held your trunk closed and tossed the lid open. The monstrosity was older than you. You’d bought it used. The lining was torn and most of it gone. You took out the stacks of paper sheathed in leather and rolled up the lid of the desk. You left them there and unpacked your pens and inkwell.

You sat and allowed yourself a breath. You tried to calm yourself. You slowly unwound the strap of the first folder and shuffled through the leaves. There was the story you’d written about the widow left homeless by her dead husband’s gambling debts. The other about the officer who finds himself by a foreign people. 

Then there was that one which you had yet to show any. The one which told the story of a woman; a fraud; a liar. She pretends to be a true lady but is found out. She is tried before the county though she never stole nor harmed anyone. Tried upon her birth and nothing more. You tucked that one away and set aside the one about the widow. Nothing so novel but good enough, you supposed.

You reached to your belt and checked the watch that dangled from it. Like the trunk, it was previously owned by another. It made you want to write a story, a fantasy of its former owner. Of how the initials etched into its back had come to be near indiscernible beneath a series of frantic scratches.

3:37. You recalled Lord Laufeyson had said tea was at four. Not much longer. Barely enough time to ready yourself for his frigidity. Oh yes, he was the very modicum of Victorian temperance. How very dull.

[andstuffsketches]

Tangled PMV.... 2!  The song is Strawberry Blond by Mitski, and it's Cass/Cassunzel-centric.  Thanks for watching!

[Video description (long, press j to skip): Tangled the Series PMV set to Strawberry Blond.  As lyrics are said, they appear onscreen.  The song begins with several seconds of clapping in rhythm, over which the title appears “Tangled, Strawberry Blonde”. The first two verses are over Cass and Rapunzel sneaking out to the black rocks in Before Ever After.

“I love everybody Because I love you” in mostly blues, A shot of the back of Rapunzel’s head, short hair blowing in the wind. “When you stood up Walked away, barefoot” Frame redraw of Raps and Cass riding their horses, silhouetted. “And the grass where you lay/ Left a bed in your shape” Raps and Cass look offscreen in the forest, then Rapunzel walks off excitedly, Cass looking after her. “I looked over it/ And I ached” Rapunzel beams, surrounded by fireflies, and looks back at Cass, smiling and blushing a little.

“I love everybody Because I love you” Rapunzel from behind, standing on the wall of Corona. “I don't need the city, and I Don't need proof” Rapunzel reaches to touch the black rocks while Cass looks at Corona in the distance. “All I need, darling, is a life in your shape” Cass holds Rapunzel’s hand as they run together, Rapunzel’s hair is glowing gold. “I picture it, soft/ And I ache” Cass looks behind her at the rocks, then ahead with shock when she sees Rapunzel.

“Look at you, Strawberry Blond” Rapunzel, holding up her newly long, blonde, glowing hair with shock and concern.

Instrumentals over four scenes of Rapunzel, Eugene, and Cassandra from the rest of BEA, Season One: 1. In front of the door after the coronation fight in BEA.  Raps and Eugene grin at each other, Cass looks suspiciously at Lady Caine’s fan. 2. Them looking down into the dungeons, grinning at each other, from Cassandra v. Eugene. 3. Jumping off the tower in The Quest for Varian. 4. Looking out of the broken wall of Corona as the sun rises after the finale.

“Reach out the car window Trying to hold the wind” Cass reaches a hand out of the caravan she is driving as some birds fly past “You tell me you love her/ I give you a grin” Eugene excitedly shows off his ring for Rapunzel to Lance, while Cass looks at him tiredly, then looks away. “Oh all I ever wanted was” Rapunzel Day One, Cass is tied up while Raps points a frying pan at her. “A life in your shape” Same episode, Rapunzel sitting against Cass at the fire, both of them blushing. “So I follow the white lines”. The door in the House of Yesterday’s Tomorrow, white light shining through the cracks. “Follow the while lines” Cass walking along the black rocks pointing the way. “Keep my eyes on the road/ As I ache” Cass looks into the camera as she walks, expression closed, then it switches to Cass clutching her burned arm, teeth gritted and eyes shadowed.

“Look at you, strawberry blond” Rapunzel reaches back toward the camera with a smile, the moonstone behind her. “Fields rolling on” A starburst of light as Cass takes the moonstone. “I love it when you call my name” Cass freezes in the foreground as Rapunzel runs out after her, yelling. “Can you hear the bumblebees swarm?” Cass turns around to confront Raps angrily. “Watching your arm/ I love it when you look my way” Cass holds up her sword in the foreground, Rapunzel, kneeling on the other side of the cut stone bridge, out of focus. Then the focus switches.

“Look at you, strawberry blond” Close up on Rapunzel’s face as she uses the second sun incantation in Cassandra’s Revenge “Fields rolling on” a burst of light as the moonstone cracks. “I love it when you call my name” Cass, using the second Moon incantation, crying and yelling. “Can you hear the bumblebees swarm?” Cass in the caves in Tale of Two Sisters, looking angrily over her shoulder. “Watching your arm” close up on Rapunzel grabbing Cass’s hand to stop her from falling. “I love it when you look my way” green fire burning around Raps and Cass, reflecting on the mirrors, as Rapunzel looks at Cass fearfully.

“Look at you, strawberry blond” Rapunzel cutting off her hair, the ends still glowing gold. “Fields rolling on” the fused sun and moonstone “I love it when you call my name” Rapunzel leaning over Cass’s body, crying. “Can you hear the bumblebees swarm?” Rapunzel doing the healing incantation with the sun/moonstone “Watching your arm” Eugene grabbing Cass’s hand to pull her into the hug “I love it when you look my way” The Eugene, Rapunzel, and Cass hug, all of them teary-eyed and joyful, Rapunzel looking at Cass. “Isaiah” is sung 6 times over six wordless frames: 1, 2. Rapunzel and Cass closeups when they said “I love you”, 3. The hug directly after that.  4. Cass, riding her horse in the woods post-finale, receives a letter from her owl. 5, 6. Cass reads the letter, then tilts her head back with her eyes closed, the wind in her hair, smiling contentedly.

As the music ends the video ends with the credits: Strawberry Blond by Mitski, Art by me, thanks for watching! End video description]

[bailey-reaper]

The Lord of the Manor (5)

Summary: It is said that you 'reap what you sow', apparently that saying is no different for Grim Reapers...

Content Warnings: angst, xenophobia reference / imperialist thinking + me taking artistic liberties re: the van Zieks family

Other parts: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) |

In the distance Barok could hear voices talking, which only served to confuse him. He was inside Klint's burial chamber, no one else should be here. He opened his eyes, head pounding, and found his confusion grew all the more.

This was not his brother's crypt. It was his own room, yet he had no recollection of leaving the family cemetery or the journey home.

He felt warm and dizzy, and that feeling intensified when he tried to sit up, "...Ugh..." it was slowly dawning on him that he was feverish. Most likely due to the reckless trip he took during a fierce storm.

"My Lord, are you awake?" he heard Harvey's voice.

"... Yes," his croaked, as though his vocal chords had rusted, "... What... happened, Harvey?" no doubt the butler could elucidate him.

"The groundskeeper was tending to the cemetery after the storm and found you collapsed on the floor. He came back to the estate and informed me, I then arranged to have you brought home so that the physician could assess you. Thankfully he does not think it's anything serious, most likely fatigue."

".... I see," Barok laid back in the bed and closed his eyes, his vision was already starting to swim, "... Thank you, Harvey."

"It is my pleasure, my lord, I am glad you are safe... the physician thinks you may have a fever but that you should recover after a few days of rest. Please let me know if you need anything."

"I will..." his consciousness was already slipping; soon enough he drifted to sleep.

──────≪⊰✥⊱≫───────

His sleep was fitful; drifting in and out of consciousness for several hours while his body wracked with freezing shivers and unbearable flashes of warmth. He writhed and groaned as the fever took a firmer hold of his faculties.

"Truly you seem to be suffering, little brother..."

Barok opened his eyes and stared in disbelief at the man sitting on his bed -- Klint. He was sat there, looking over at him with face marred by concern, "... K...Klint?" he uttered, before trying to sit up only to think better of it when his head throbbed sharply.

"Mmm," his older brother nodded, "Truth be told you're hallucinating, but I suppose that's to be expected when you neglect yourself in this manner."

A wry smile tugged his lips; it seemed his own mind was set upon chastising him for his earlier impulsiveness, "... Of course... a figment of my imagination."

"Yes... you've pushed yourself too hard of late, no wonder things have gotten on top of you and now you're feverish and hallucinating."

"..." he felt a strong surge of sadness in the pit of his stomach, "My mind couldn't at least trick me into thinking you were a ghost..."

"You're too cynical for that," the mirage pointed out, "No doubt you'd have tried to cross-examine this situation and forced the truth out of yourself."

It was irksome how accurate that statement was, and how he was incapable of formulating a witty reply to it. Eventually he gave up and muttered, "... Perhaps."

"Undoubtedly," the figment said, "Now, I suppose we'd best get to the bottom of why you're having this moment of delirium..."

"Clearly because I'm feverish," he retorted dryly.

"No..." Klint shook his head, "Clearly you need to do some soul searching. You've lost your way, your feelings of hopelessness have driven you to be reckless and now you don't know what to do with yourself. Perhaps you need to take a step back and re-calibrate, little wolf."

"Nonsense..." he muttered as he draped a hand over his eyes; his forehead was burning, "I... I know precisely what I need to do..."

"Oh really? Well I assure you that clinging to the past isn't it."

".... I know that," but how could he resist? This house was full of memories; it was the last place in all the world where Klint's memory was still a tangible thing that he could hold on to. It was all he had left of him.

"Find something to live for, Barok. You have a chance to turn a new page, to step out of your brother's shadow. You don't have to be a prosecutor. You don't have to be a lawyer. You can be whatever you want."

"Whatever I want..." he mumbled to himself as a wave of tiredness washed over him; he relinquished himself to it and drifted into a deep sleep

──────≪⊰✥⊱≫───────

For several days, Barok continued to drift in and out of delirious conversations with a mimicry of his brother. Until his body recovered and he overcame the fever; there was a dull pang in his chest when it dawned on him that he could not longer hallucinate his brother's presence watching over him, but, it was a familiar grief and one he continued to hold in his core.

He decided to take the fever dreams to heart, rather than wallowing, and set about busying himself with numerous distractions; a main one being repairing the old family estate. It had been refurbished sometime during his grandfather's lifetime, but it seemed the work had been rather shoddy.

In between the renovations, he engaged in correspondence with a few individuals in London, including members of the Prosecutor's Office, and dabbled in stocks to maintain the family's wealth. His employment as a Prosecutor was hardly a king's ransom, but it had been an impressive wage and he was conscious to avoid squandering his family's assets while he languished in a malaise.

For a few years that became his routine, and it was a reasonably comfortable one. He enjoyed the Devon countryside atop Black Gale and distracted himself with a mix of physical and cerebral activities. Yet, it felt profoundly empty to him; there was an acute sense of wistfulness at his core and he knew precisely what it related to.

He had geared his entire life for a career as a lawyer, and the part of his mind that had enjoyed the intellectual rigour found his current life far too humdrum. Of course he still read the Legal Reports not long after they were handed down by the Courts, out of a 'healthy curiosity', he told himself, but reading about the law was nothing when compared to actually practising it.

The anecdotes he received from his peers in the Prosecutor's Office did little to slake that innermost wish, in fact they only stoked it more. But he resisted by reminding himself why he left in the first place.

Should he return, the Capital would once more be swept up in its 'Reaper fever'; the press would fixate on his every move, the criminal underbelly of London would sharpen its knifes and perhaps this time manage to get his eyes... Fear had no part of it, for he did not fear death, but it grew wearisome to be so fetishised by the world at large and all it did was remind him all the more that Klint was not here.

Klint was the one who had inspired such a fervent love of the law in him; his righteousness, his acumen, his talent for public speaking... every time he'd watched his brother in court he'd fallen in love with the law a little more, for it embodied the very things his brother stood for. Or, that's what he'd wanted to believe.

The truth had been a bitter pill to swallow – for, while the law had the best of intentions, it was a clunky machine that often failed to work at the moment where individuals and society at large most needed it. Loopholes and the unjust were constantly undermining it. He felt the dichotomy between reality and idealism keenly. He had often equated the Law with Justice, but sadly the two things were not synonymous.

Sometimes he wondered how Klint had coped with that knowledge, for he saw his brother as a bastion of justice and a man of integrity who would no doubt have been just as aware of the law's failings as he. How he longed to ask his brother now that he had the benefit of practical experience.

For several years he maintained his distance from London and the law; many among the aristocracy gossiped, from rumours about his death to wild theories about his having eloped to America to marry into some wealthy entrepreneurial family, but for the most part he ignored them too. The only time he deigned to mingle with the other noble families was when such was demanded of him as master of the house.

One day, however, a letter arrived from London that piqued his interest to the point he could no longer resist it.

Magnus McGilded was becoming an increasingly brazen problem for the capital. He knew the moneylender had something of a reputation, one that caused misery among the desperate and unfortunate who had fallen upon hardtimes; but it sounded as though his activities were causing more angst than ever before, not least of all because he continued to evade the Courts through underhanded means.

Of course, his friend opined, it was not possible to prove that Magnus McGilded was bribing the Jury, buying witnesses and a catalogue of other dubious evasive tactics; but nor could anyone explain why entire cases were dropped at the last minute or why the police had failed to locate key witnesses until they themselves appeared from nowhere with vital information (in McGilded's favour).

It irked him to his core as he read of the various trials that had collapsed, and for the first time in a long while he felt a strong desire to do something. To bring the rodent out of his labyrinth of deceptions and into the light of day. He knew full well it was something that he would be capable of, were he to oversee a future investigation...

His mind raced with thoughts about how to outwit the Irish Shylock at his own game...

Another thing that piqued his interest was a throwaway postscript:

[Ps. We've had word from Lord Stronghart to expect some Nipponese student in a few months time. Apparently there is some cultural exchange afoot and the young man will be studying British law. I can't say I see the necessity, but I suppose our great nation ought to be charitable to those from more impoverished places...]

Seeing that word roused ugly feelings in his core, things that he had managed to keep his distance from for some time; but the anger was never far away. The resentment, like rot, was deep in his soul and it had been left alone but not eradicated.

The near-five years he had spent in the ancestral home was a welcomed reprieve, and served to focus his mind to some degree. He had never lost his passion for the law, and now it seemed there were reasons to pull him back into the foray.

Perhaps it was high time the Reaper returned London...

─────── Fin.