#sorry i am having one singular thought all week and its this

[mag200]

he literally looked back because he loved her. she was already dead. she wouldve still been dead even if he hadnt looked back and they'd made it. she was a ghost. she wouldve come back wrong. it's not a happy ending (yes it is). he loved her. he looked back. HE DID NOT FAIL HER!!!!! its not about getting back what you've lost its about saying goodbye. there is no other end to this story. im done.

[euphoricfilter]

like crazy ~ part one

☆ﾟpart one of four

pairing(s): namjoon x reader, seokjin x reader, yoongi x reader, hoseok x reader, jimin x reader, taehyung x reader, jungkook x reader

genre: fluff || smut || angst || non-idol au || reincarnation au || strangers to lovers || established relationships || regency era au || gang au ||

summary: the story of why you loved to dance in the rain.

word count: 14k

tags/ warnings: duke! taehyung, jimin, fluff, so much love, angst, death(s)/implied murder, mentions of blood, mentioned suicide, mentioned puking, friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, smut in the forms of: implied loss of virginity, unprotected sex (don't be stupid, this is fiction), oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, cum play, talks of pregnancy and babies

notes: this mini series is very loosely inspired by an au idea i wrote a while back about an immortal m/c. i'm going to try and keep updates every other week but i am moving home really soon so if there's any change in the schedule then i'll post about it!! and as always, feedback is always encouraged <3

‘like crazy’ mini series masterlist || my main masterlist

🪐 🌠 ∘₊✧─── *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ───✧₊∘ ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . 💫

“A lot has happened since we last spoke” You look down at the gravestone, moss and mud having found home over unnerving death, “Sorry it took me so long to visit” Maybe it helped that the sun was out, tears that were meant to fall soaked up in golden rays of light that warm your cheeks rather than wet them. 

You place a bouquet of red chrysanthemums before the thick slab of stone, closing your eyes briefly. Not a thought in your mind as you revel in the peace of what was once a roaring home. 

“Now, where should I begin?” 

The day you remembered your first life, it felt as though your world had tilted off its axis. That everything you thought you’d learnt about yourself was nothing more than a singular star in a galaxy that sat in the vast universe. A mere atom in the formula that builds you as a person. 

It was like a never-ending spiral. Little pockets of a past life you were never supposed to know, hidden between rouge pieces of space rock and black holes of a different time. Where one misstep had you slipping down a rabbit hole of the unknown with nothing to grab onto. Spiralling down like you were Alice, except you were far from Wonderland. 

You weren’t even sure if you were in denial, or if it was all a far-fetched dream crafted by a wild imagination. Perhaps it was something more like guilt, because as much as Jimin was most definitely the love of your life; he was simply the love of this life.

Strange, heart-wrenching emotions had weighed on your shoulders as you remembered a past lover, who had held your heart ever so delicately in soft hands. And you’d held his, cradling it to your chest until your hearts had beaten in unison. Where wild fantasies had painted a forever, that was never going to be forever. 

Your skin had crawled as fingertips that no longer exist had danced over your body, and burning lips, kissing you in places that should only be Jimin’s. A touch not that of your lover’s, digging into sacred places, secret places that you had only ever worked up the courage to show Jimin. 

The sudden force of having to re-live grief when you yourself should also be dead had sent you into a frenzy. With too many sleepless nights, and too many harsh words sent Jimin’s way as you tried to navigate so many new stimuli at once. This love for another man was like a phantom hand latching onto your heart and squeezing, pulling, and sinking you further down. Sinking down, down, down until a whirlwind of emotions had flushed over you. Joy. Excitement. Sorrow. Heart-ache. Hatred. Love. Too much love. So much more love. A different sort of love you had never felt. Love love love. 

There were too many secrets. Secrets you didn’t truly understand, a jumble of words that melt into slush and clog your brain, sparking against neurotransmitters and mingling with more information than you knew what to do with. Secrets that go away when Jimin is stood before you, and you’re reminded of who your heart now belongs to. The world finally silent, and hands stop grabbing you, and you can finally breathe again. It was as if Jimin had become a catalyst for your fraying feelings. 

The story of Jimin had bloomed in spring. 

When the sky felt as though it were at the tips of your fingers if you were to reach up high enough. And the world smelt of flowers and herbs that sat on window-sills of rundown houses. Where skin was sun-kissed, tender and pink on the back of your neck. And all the evils of the world were taking a nap for the afternoon with the cats that lounged in the shade under trees. 

“Excuse me”

You perk up, squinting when the sun hits your eyes. 

The memory of your first encounter with Jimin will always be one you find yourself going back to. Vivid enough that when you dream of this day, you’re often tempted to reach out and touch him as if he were really there. 

His name on the tip of your tongue, tickling the back of your throat and mind, though nothing comes out as the scene replays itself for the thousandth time. 

It’s like a well-practised play, where you pose as the main cast while simultaneously being the audience. (Maybe it was more of a tragedy, a shame when you know how this one ended.) A little jarring that you have no control over your own body, lips moulding around words so many times you could recite the first conversation the both of you had over and over again. 

Sickly regret holding you in its palms, because there are so many more things you want to tell Jimin, words that he’ll never get to hear. 

It mustn’t have been very long after midday when you’d met. Sweat tickling the back of your neck and untamed grass pocking at your ankles and between bare toes. 

The air smelt of burning wood, crackling fire nothing but a whisper in the wind as footsteps crunch over gravel, and children thump into the tall grass and crush delicate flowers under the weight of their tiny bodies. 

The dress you were sewing is dropped into your lap in favour of cupping your hands around your eyes to see the face of your visitor. Your cheeks dusting the lightest shade of pink when you finally get a look at his face. 

You knew of Jimin, as did most on your estate. The other seamstresses never knew when to close their mouths, always tittering away about everyone and everything that lived in the area. Mindless gossip that you always found yourself turning away from when their giggles would get too loud, or opinions too crude for your liking. 

Jimin had become somewhat of an enigma since turning into an adult. Names were thrown around like he weren’t ever to hear them; though you know his mother works in the building next door. Sure to have heard what her friends had been saying about her son behind her back. How much of a shame it is that he has such a nice face but no money. That no woman would ever want to settle for a man with nothing to his name, even if their babies were to be beautiful. 

Or how their daughters had wandered into the city and found wealthy bachelors, who bought them dresses lined with thread made of gold, and jewellery that weigh down their necks. Who eat like royals, and prance around well-kept gardens into their husbands’ arms. 

Thoughts ever so shallow you never found yourself stooping to their level when they’d nudge you for your opinion. The bitter remark that their children had abandoned them had always clung to your lips, because surely if they cared they would have lifted their parents out of commoner status and housed them in luxury. 

The rumours of Jimin’s beauty were true, that much you now knew. Whatever child-like innocence you had left inside of you dubbing him as something akin to a garden fairy; just as you imagined them when you were young. 

Not quite dainty, yet not thick muscle, something a little softer around the edges. And with his overgrown hair haloed by the sun as he takes a step to the side, blanketing you in shade, you think he looks like a dream. 

“Yes?” your head tilts, gaze flitting to the scarce bouquet that he holds. Tips of his fingers evidence that he’d dug them up himself, wet soil clinging to his skin and boots; just as rough and old as the rest of his clothes. Though really you find you have no place to judge when you, yourself are dressed no better than him. 

“These are for you” He thrusts the flowers into your face, entirely too eager as dirt falls into your lap, though you find yourself laughing. Uncaring that your mother’s dress bears the brunt of his enthusiasm. 

You clear your throat when he avoids your eyes, “From you?” 

And he nods, watching from the corner of his eye as you take them in gentle hands as not to let any of the smaller flowers fall out of place. You lay them delicately over your lap, feeling around the grass for your thread. 

You snap it with your teeth, tying the stems of the flowers together so you wouldn’t lose any of them. A pot already in mind that you keep beside your mattress in the bedroom. Dust had collected around the rim, and lime scale clung to the insides, though you think the flowers would look lovely beside you as you slept. 

“And–” he rubs his hands over his pants, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, “And this” He pulls a piece of paper from his pocket. 

The tips of your fingers brush against one another as you take it from him. Curiosity wins over the heated flush that threatens to dust over your cheeks at the accidental contact. 

‘I think you’re pretty’ 

“Would you like to join me?” you smile, patting the space beside you, Jimin’s own lips curling up at the corners. 

“I’m Jimin” 

And you refrain from telling him you know. Because the Jimin you knew was the one that had been tossed from mouth to mouth, built on flimsy lies and stupid expectations. Entirely built by rotten imaginations and women who had nothing better to do than chatter about other people’s lives when their own was crumbling just as much. 

“Y/n” you giggle, outstretching your hand for him to shake. 

Jimin’s eyes curl into little crescents as he smiles, a laugh bubbling up his throat “Nice to meet you, Y/n” 

“Nice to meet you” You nod, “Oh! And, I think you’re pretty too” 

“Do you think I can take you on a date? Tomorrow?” he turns to you, and you blink up at him. 

“So soon?” 

“Too soon?” he winces. 

The corners of your lips turn upwards, busying yourself with finishing mending your mother’s dress, “No, I quite like how straight to the point you are” 

Jimin’s chest deflates as he sighs, “I thought it might have scared you a little” he admits. 

You hum, “No one’s ever asked me on a date before” you admit. 

A wave of ease falls over the both of you, a unanimous understanding that there weren’t any expectations between the two of you. That as much as love was thrown onto the table, it didn’t have to be what the two of you got out of this. 

Friendship, when you’re alone, is just as precious as a lover. Another human being with very human emotions and morals that match yours is just as special as something a little more than platonic. 

“No way” he laughs, shoulder knocking against yours, you bite back a smile, “A girl as pretty as you?” 

“Mmhmm” 

“Then it’d be an honour to be the first” feeling bold, Jimin’s arm slips across your shoulders, “And hopefully the last”

“Ah is that so?” you drop the dress onto the grass beside you, pushing yourself to sit on your heels as you turn to face Jimin. 

He nods, eyes flicking from your own to your lips, then back up again. Perhaps only mapping out your face into his mind, carving out every little crevice that makes you, and burning it into his brain. Or maybe it’s something a little less innocent. 

You lean forward, a chaste kiss pressed to Jimin’s cheek before you pull back; a shy smile mirroring his, flushed cheeks probably matching his too. Though you find yourself liking the feeling, something ever so foreign yet welcome, you can’t help the airy laugh that spills from your lungs. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

It had been the incessant tapping at your window that had woken you up like a little bird was pecking at the old glass. Understandably, fear had settled in your heart, it wasn’t often you were woken up in the middle of the night like this. 

The floorboards creaked under the weight of your body as you slipped off your mattress, socked feet barely making a sound as you plan an easy escape without your uninvited visitor knowing you were going to find your mother. 

You almost trip over your own feet when the tapping stops, Jimin calling out your name. 

You scuttle over to your window, tugging your curtains open, “What are you doing here so late?” you whisper when you unlatch the window, pushing it open. 

“I forgot to give you this” he raises his arm, a singular sunflower clasped between his fingers. 

“You came all the way here to give me this?” you ask, baffled. 

“Yes, I forgot to pick you a bouquet before our date this afternoon” he nods, “That…and I just missed you” 

“Would you like to come in?” you take a step away from your window. 

You see the unfiltered surprise on his face, “Too soon?” 

He shakes his head, “I just wasn’t expecting it is all” 

You pluck the sunflower from between his fingers, turning to place it in the vase with the other flowers he’d gifted you over the last week. 

You turn back to Jimin as his boots thump against the floor, he kicks them off, shuffling in one spot as you take a seat on your mattress. 

“Come here” you hide your smile, biting your bottom lip. He’s ever so careful as he takes a seat beside you. The both of you fall onto your backs like you often did in the grass at the park. 

Soft silver moonlight spills into the room from the open curtains, cool night air washing over the both of you as you stare at the ceiling. 

“I really like spending time with you” Jimin breaks the silence, though his gaze remains trained on one spot of your roof. 

“I really like spending time with you, too” You tilt your head to look at him, unexplainable happiness filling your body until you felt like bursting. 

He hums, next words barely above a whisper. “I hope we can be together for a long time” 

“I would like that” 

Jimin turns his head to face you, the softest smile on his face, “I’m glad” 

 Love with Jimin was pure. The both of you were young enough that it didn’t matter if it were rough around the edges, imperfect; though you wouldn’t have changed it for the world. It wasn’t hard to fall in love. Not when it was Jimin.

For every date he took you on, he would spend hours in the park picking flowers for you. 

His mother had always adored them and could talk about anything botanical for hours. She knew all their meanings and all their worth. Her love for one of the world’s tiny treasures brushing off on Jimin growing up. Over the years the reason for his love had changed, something special to his mother was now something special to him. 

Because flowers now reminded Jimin of you. Where soft petals between the tips of his fingers felt like your skin under his hands, always reaching out for you, holding any part of you he could. How the world around you smelt of flowers as he braided them into your hair or you made promise rings with wilting stems that needed a little bit of love; a new life, a new purpose. 

And of course, Jimin had heard all about the men in the city who bought acres of land for their lovers. Gardens tended to with warm hands but barely there love. And Jimin’s dream was to spend afternoons in a garden, your knees brushing as he plants flower beds and vegetables. So he could wake you up each morning with a new bouquet and a letter as to why he loves you so much. 

“What’s this one?” you tuck Jimin’s hair behind his ear, pressing a kiss to his nose. 

“A red chrysanthemum” He tilts your face, thumb caressing the skin behind your ear. 

“Yeah?” you breathe, eyelashes brushing against your cheeks as his lips barely brush over your own, and Jimin hums. 

You smile into the kiss, “And what do red chrysanthemums mean?” you whisper, arms wrapping around his shoulders. 

“I love you” 

You pull back, eyes widening a fraction. Three words that felt like they should be whispered, a secret that the two of you shared but never spoke about. You knew you loved Jimin in some capacity, you weren’t stupid. And you knew he liked you back, he’d made that known; and yet those three words had you feeling as though love was the only emotion that mattered. That the only thing you could ever do was love Jimin.

“Too soon?” he smiles, thumb running over your bottom lip. 

You shake your head, “No, not at all” 

“This is for you too then” His free hand slips into his pocket. Piece of paper tucked between two fingers, he drops it into your awaiting palm. 

‘I love you ♡” 

Young love didn’t have to be rushed. You didn’t have to stagger after Jimin as he pulled you along, or him chase after you as you sped ahead. It could be late-night talking about all the seemingly insignificant things in life. How hard growing up was or the insane expectations for success that neither of you had a chance of grasping. 

Marriage didn’t have to be your only reason. Not when Jimin had become many of the reasons you liked waking up in the morning, or making lunch for the both of you to share on scarce breaks at work. 

It could be slow dancing in the moonlight, as Jimin hums and crickets chirp. Or afternoons spent lounging in the sun with pinkies intertwined and breaths in sync. Or, now whispered ‘I love yous’ melting into soft kisses to cheeks and lips and noses. Or pink flushed cheeks and smiles that hurt your face, the good kind of hurt that makes you giggle and want one more gentle press of his lips to your own. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You dip your fingers into the shallow edge of the lake, “It’s pretty cold” 

You peek over your shoulder as Jimin pulls his shirt over his head, lithe muscles flexing under the motions of his movements. Every sharp line and soft ridge of his body was illuminated by the silver light of the moon. 

“Guess we better warm up then” he grins, eyes raking down your body. They then linger on your face, and it’s not often you wonder what Jimin’s thinking. He usually speaks his mind, clingy shyness about his feeling for you never holding him back when it came to his thoughts. 

You laugh, “Perv” your own shirt haphazardly shucked off your body, thrown into a pile with the rest of Jimin’s clothes. 

His arm slips over your waist as you kick your panties off, goosebumps prickling the skin of your arms as your boyfriend takes a step into the lake. 

His chest opens as the initial shock of the cold crawls up his spine. Jimin watches you fidget, arms wrapped around your bare breasts, “Come on, baby” he reaches a hand out for you, walking further until he’s waist-deep in the water. 

An easy smile is on his face as he beckons you over, wading closer to you when you work up the courage to slink into the water. Your breath hitches as you take Jimin’s hand, legs wrapping around his waist. He throws your arms around his shoulders, murky water rippling around the both of you as he spins you around. Your bare chest pushes up against Jimin’s as you pull him closer, your body easing a little at the extra heat. 

“You’re pretty” he murmurs, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs, hoisting you up a little higher. 

You push his hair from his forehead, lips lingering over warm skin when you lean down to press a kiss over his hairline; your hands cupping his cheeks, eyes flickering across his face. You weren’t sure how to explain how you felt, Jimin had always been better at words than you had been. 

It’s just, Jimin in the moonlight always felt right. Because for once the world fell silent, it felt like it finally belonged to just you and him. He looked ever so pretty dusted in silver, honeyed skin kissed by the wonders of the sky. Blemishes nothing but pretty places to kiss, each moment your lips touch his skin another reason for you to wonder how you even ended up here. 

“I love you” you whisper.

But that never felt like enough. Three frail words that you utter over and over again, that should really lose their meaning over time, are the only words that ever seem to come to mind when it’s Jimin. Nothing fancy. Nothing poetic. Nothing that’s more than an ‘I love you’ because no matter how many times you seemed to say it, the weight of your words is always understood by Jimin.  

And he laughs, “How abrupt of you” 

You bite back a smile, “Sorry, it just came out” 

“I might love you more, you know” His eyes close. 

You press a kiss over his eyelids, “I think that’s impossible”  

He hums, “I don’t” 

He peeks an eye open, smiling when he sees the frown on your face. 

“Every breath I take, and for every beat of my fragile heart, I will love you. Until the day I lay on my deathbed, and we must part ways, my love will be yours.” his eyes meet your own, “Though I know we’ll meet in the sky, and I’ll hand you my heart once more” 

“And I’ll hand you mine” Your eyes search his, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders. 

“I’m glad, my love. And I’ll cherish it for as long as you’ll allow me” 

“Forever.” you say, wondering if his eyes really held galaxies or if they simply reflected the sky, “It’ll be yours forever” 

“Then I have something to tell you” 

Your eyebrows crease, and a strange sense of dread and excitement mixes inside of you. And you aren’t sure if you’re jittery from the cold or nerves or fear. 

“What is it?” you urge. 

Jimin swallows, hands travelling over your bare back and down your waist, “I’ve put down two gold coins for that house we had been talking about” 

Your chest deflates, lungs wringing themselves out of all the air you had until you’re laughing. Almost falling backwards into the water if Jimin hadn’t pulled you closer to his body. 

“Have you really?” you breathe, hand tangling into the hair on the back of his head, “Park Jimin, don’t lie to me” 

He smiles, chest shaking with his own breathy laughter, “Never, my love. Truly it is going to be ours” 

You shake your head, “How did you find the money for it” 

“You know I have been working double shifts as of late” he hums, wet hands pushing your hair from your face, eager to see your blooming happiness. 

“Yes, but I thought it was for your mother” 

“She earns enough to feed herself, and I wanted a place of our own. And I know how much we’ve both dreamed of this moment, I had to do it” 

“You’re perfect, you know that?” your lips mould into his, a moan of appreciation swallowed as you tilt your head; tongue poking at the seam of his lips. 

“I do now” he huffs, pulling you in for another kiss by the back of your neck. 

“We’re really going to have a home” 

“Yes” he laughs, “Forever ours” 

“I can’t believe it” you whisper, “Pinch me so I know it is real” 

A moan gets caught in the back of your throat as Jimin’s teeth nip at the tender skin behind your ear, plush lips kissing over your skin, saliva slicked and heated. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You think you can find your and Jimin’s love in the little wonders of the world. Because as much as he wanted to hand you the universe, both of you knew that was impossible. That your love was tucked away, safer when hidden in dreams of a shared future. Tucked away in a home that was now yours forever, because neither of you had plans of going anywhere. 

As selfish as it may seem, you’d stolen spring to be your own. You’d met in the spring and found a place for yourselves as flowers bloomed. You were Jimin’s spring flower and he was the sun and the moon and all the pretty things in between. 

It wasn’t hard to fall into a routine, your lives were like clockwork, never stopping. It had always been that way, except now you’d stay within the precious walls of your home, and Jimin would return to you before the sun slipped behind the horizon and dinner was finished cooking on the fire. 

Most mornings the both of you would wake up before sunrise, and you’d eat near-stale bread on the chairs Jimin had made outside the front door. Where once or twice a butterfly had come to kiss your nose in good morning, and then Jimin would kiss the same place over and over until you’re both giggling like it was the first time you’d kissed. 

And for the days he slipped out of the house before you woke, he would leave little letters around the house for you to find throughout the day. 

‘Last night I saw a star as you slept, and it reminded me of your eyes. Briefly, I thought to wake you but after seeing you so at peace, I decided to join you instead ♡’  

He’d always had a secret liking towards poetry and found himself sitting with a quill and paper as the moon sat in the sky, thinking of poems about you. And only the ones that made him smile, and made his heart jump up and down inside his chest did he ever leave on his pillow for you to wake up to the next morning. 

You’d clean the floors between sewing as Jimin worked as a blacksmith, lithe frame bulking up over the last couple of months. And he would make sure to leave you a note before leaving the house, with every little thing he would find that he loved about you. 

‘Today’s reason is your smile ♡’ 

Evenings were your favourite, as were Jimin’s. Both your bodies ease into one another’s as you sit on worn-down cushions while playing checkers that your father had carved for you as a child. 

Or you’d simply lay your head over Jimin’s thigh as he sings for you under the stars. Bellies almost full and hearts the most content as the universe writes your love in shooting stars, its ink the soft glow of the moon. 

“I have a surprise for you next week, so take the day off” Jimin’s fingers rake through your hair, tucking it ever so delicately behind your ear. 

You peel your eyes open, “And what about your own work?” 

“I have already asked for a day away, no problem” He smiles down at you. 

“What sort of surprise is it?” your voice comes out barely above a whisper, carried by the wind to Jimin’s ears, who hums. 

He runs his thumb over his bottom lip, “I mustn’t say, it will ruin it” 

“But I’ll be curious” You jab a finger into his stomach, lips curling into a smile when he leans down to capture your lips. 

“Poor thing” he whispers, stealing another kiss. 

‘A clue to your surprise: It reminds me of you ♡’ 

“I still don’t know what it is” You slide Jimin’s most recent note across the table, and he shrugs. 

“Your final clue” He hands you another piece of paper. 

‘Think of when we first met’  

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this excited” Jimin laughs, arm slung over your shoulders. 

You skip ahead a little, walking backwards as you smile over at Jimin who takes one of your hands, helping you twirl as if you were a princess and he was the prince. You’d spent every night sewing a new dress with leftover fabric from the tavern; a special occasion called for a special outfit.  

And Jimin had smiled and laughed so much he’d almost fallen off the back of his chair as you’d spun for him. He’d called you utterly beautiful and then tugged you over his lap for a kiss, maybe two. 

“Of course, I’m excited. I’ve been eager to know what your surprise is” 

“Happiness looks good on you, my love” Jimin stops walking, pulling you to his chest. 

“Then I must look good all the time, with you around” 

“Where do you learn these things” His hand covers his mouth, a lame attempt at covering his smile. 

“You” 

Jimin raises his eyebrows, astounded, “When have I ever been cheesy?” 

“All the time. I’ll show you when we get home, I have all those letters you’ve left me” 

“You kept all those?” he gapes, footsteps falling in time with your own as you both start wandering back down the gravel path. 

“Of course. I still have the first ever one you gave me, and then all the ones that came after that” 

You bite your bottom lip, willing yourself not to laugh when you catch sight of Jimin’s rose-dusted cheeks. 

“Then you may think I’m extra cheesy today” he announces, fingers interlacing with your own. 

“Is that so?” you hum, shoulder knocking against his arm. 

Jimin turns to you, “Do you trust me?” 

You blink. 

“Of course” 

“Then please close your eyes” 

“Right now?” your head tilts, eyes squinting to gauge how far away the end of the pathway is, “It doesn’t seem like we’re anywhere that a surprise could be” 

“We are” he turns to you, “It won’t be a surprise if you keep looking though” 

You nod, eyes narrowing; sceptical. 

“If this is where you secretly murder me then I swear on my grave I will come back from the dead Park Jimin” 

He laughs, “It would be impossible to live in a world without you, I wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you if it weren’t for your own pleasure” 

You bring your hands to cover your eyes, back straightening when Jimin takes hold of your arm, turning you in the direction of the forest. 

“Careful, the path is uneven this way” He pulls you further under the blanket of trees. 

“Are we almost there” you stumble, amused laugh shaking your shoulders as Jimin’s other hand falls onto your waist to keep you steady. 

“Almost” 

The both of you stumble to a stop, your eyes squeezing shut behind your hands as you wander into the sun, out of the shade. 

“Are you ready?” 

And you hear the unease in his voice, a week of pressure building up. Bubbling until it’s now fizzling out of him in nervous rivulets, hands clammy as they run up and down your arms. His feet shuffle against crunchy grass, and this might be the most jittery you’ve ever seen Jimin. 

“Yes,” you tell him, keeping your eyes closed as you take hold of his hands, squeezing his fingers between your own. Jimin swallows, Adams's apple bobbing under the weight of it. 

His eyes wander over your face, “May I kiss you?” 

The corner of your lips curl up at that, “Yes” you nod, leaning into his touch when he cups your cheeks. 

The tension in both your shoulders releases as your lips mould together, ever so slowly, neither of you rushing as Jimin’s tongue teases into your mouth. He laps up every little noise that slips off your tongue, sweet like nectar. 

Your eyes slip open, entirely focused on Jimin’s. “I really hope you like it” He keeps your focus on him, foreheads still touching, noses knocking against one another. 

“May I be honest with you?” 

And he hums, “Yes, of course” 

“If it’s from you, then I will always love it” 

“That seems a little extreme” he laughs, though unease still chews away at his mind. 

“I don’t think so. Surely you would like anything I gifted you” 

He nods, “Of course, I would” 

“Then it’s no different for me, so please don’t worry” you whisper, eyes slipping closed once more as you press a featherlight kiss to his plush lips. 

“Keep your eyes closed for a moment” he whispers back, and you hum. 

Jimin’s hands fall away from your body, shadow slipping away from behind your eyelids as he steps away from you. 

“Open them” 

And you do. 

“Oh Jimin” you whisper, a twitch of your lip the first sign of a smile. 

As far as you can see, there are just flowers. The most vibrant you have ever seen, almost glowing under the warm light of the sun. For all the flowers Jimin had given you over the years, you think there must be every colour he’d ever thought to bring you; all swaying in tandem as if it were the most beautiful ocean. 

The field stretches until it meets the sky, land completely hidden by a blanket of wildflowers. 

You don’t know where to look, so many places to look but only two eyes. Your head is pulled in every which direction, mouth falling open in awe. 

“Where did you find this place?” your voice comes out breathless, gaze only briefly meeting Jimin’s before you’re drawn back to acres of untouched land. A whole ecosystem thriving on its own, untampered with by human life. 

“On the way back from a job. It reminded me of you, and I knew I had to bring you here” he steps closer to you, fingers brushing against your own. 

You turn to face Jimin, “It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. Thank you for sharing it with me” 

You slip your fingers through Jimin’s, “Would you like to dance with me?” 

“Right here?” his eyes widen. 

You nod, tugging him towards the sea of flowers, “Yes” 

“But we have no music” his resistance nothing more than a show as he makes no move to stop you. 

Wild grass tickles both your ankles, delicate petals of smaller flowers caressing your bare legs as you hike your dress up. 

“That doesn’t matter” you laugh, pulling him further and further until overgrown flowers dust over your waist like gentle fingers, and a butterflies’ wings tickle your cheek. 

Jimin watches as you twirl, hands outstretched for him to come closer. Your body knocks into his as he pulls you into his chest. Both of you fall in sync, as curious hands wander over arms and backs, down to waists and hips. 

You flinch when something wet hits your nose, Jimin turning his face to the sky. 

“It looks like it’s about to rain,” he says, and you tilt your head to look, “Perhaps we should go home” 

You shake your head, “But we only just got here” 

“But the rain, my love” he takes your hands, taking a step back, though your feet stay planted in their spot. 

“A little bit of rain never hurt anyone” You pull him back into your body, eyes squeezing shut as a raindrop collides with your lashes. 

The both of you are washed in a gust of shade, the sun hidden behind dark clouds that bleed into the horizon. 

“Won’t you dance with me?” you look up at Jimin, clothes starting to mould into your skin as the sky rains more unshed tears. 

“I suppose” he grins, arm falling around your waist. 

Your hair clings to your foreheads, sodden leaves wetly slapping against your arms and legs. Rouge petals that had plans of rotting on the soil now hanging on to your dress and Jimin’s pants. 

Your dress doesn’t fan out like a royal’s would when Jimin spins you, neither is he really dressed like a prince but the both of you feel as though you could be of that status in that moment. 

Your eyes fall shut, smile never leaving your face. It’s as though your body evaporates, that the world around you fizzles upwards in little bubbles and you follow their lead. Chasing after the light that shines down on you like a beacon. 

Something strange tugs at your heart, sinking you further and further into the darkness as you kick upwards until you’re spinning and the world is spinning with you. And the darkness feels all too familiar, your footsteps practised perfectly as if a routine. 

Hands roam your body. Both yours and his laughter muffled underwater, a whisp of a soul slipping through your fingers when you turn towards the deep timbre of another voice, a voice far deeper than Jimin’s. His laugh vibrates in your chest as phantom hands graze against your naked skin. And he’s calling your name, your mouth opening to call back except nothing but air puffs past your lips; air bubbles caressing your cheeks as they float upwards. 

Your feet move on their own without much thought as you turn in every which direction, only to ever be met by darkness; feet caught in quicksand that has you sinking further away from the light. 

There’s something on the tips of your fingers as you reach out and an awful pressure squeezes at your chest and the echo– the echo of a voice you’ve heard before. Everything is awfully jumbled, words shoved down your throat, acidic in your stomach– poison as it absorbs into your bloodstream. 

You stumble over your feet chasing after where the stranger’s voice had come from and suddenly your eyes are open as you collide with the floor. Brain rattling within the confines of your skull and your whole world shakes a along with you. 

Jimin’s arms cage your head, chest heaving as he holds himself up over your body. 

You feel puddles of water and sodden soil soak into the back of your dress as you sink further into the ground. 

“Sorry” he whispers, droplets of water from his hair falling onto your cheeks. 

“It’s okay, I forgot where I was for a moment” you admit, a smile pulling at the corner of your lips. 

“I could tell” he laughs, falling back onto his heels. 

Jimin tugs you up by your arms, pushing your wet hair out of your face. 

“Maybe we should go home” he murmurs, “I’d hate to have another accident” 

You nod,  “I think that’s a good idea”

“Let’s go home, my love” he pushes himself to stand, and you glance down at your hands. 

“Did you hear another man’s voice?” you blink away the rain from your lashes, Jimin’s eyebrows furrowing. 

“No? It’s only the two of us here” he takes your hands, helping you up, “Did you hear someone?” 

You shake your head, “No, it must have been something else” 

“You know” Jimin starts as you trek out of the flowers, “I’ve never met anyone that loves dancing in the rain as much as you” 

“I can’t explain the feeling” You turn to him, the smallest of smiles on your face. 

“Then should we dance every time it rains?” 

“I always dance when it rains” You pull him closer to your side, a futile attempt to steal some of his body heat. 

“Yes, but I always watch. Maybe I’ll join you from now on” 

“I would like that” you hum. 

And that should have been the end of it. A conversation left in the past where its only leeway into your future is Jimin joining you the next time it decides to rain. Except, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

It was rotten how for those few moments the world hadn’t been yours, and Jimin hadn’t been Jimin, and you hadn’t been you. Or that the other voice that had definitely been in your head, a whisper in your ear, an echo on the other side of the dark plane. A siren’s song pulling you further into your own demise, forbidden land you should have never passed over. 

It shouldn’t have been anything more than how much you truly loved dancing in the rain, where it was just something you had always loved and always done without thinking much about it. 

You turn your head to look at Jimin who lay beside you, finally asleep after the both of you had taken a bath. So at peace with himself and the world, as the weight of emotions, you’re unfamiliar with breathe down the back of your neck and you lay awake. 

It’s when you close your eyes, you start to fall. And the eyes that meet yours when you open them aren’t Jimin’s. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

For every life you lived after this one, the love you had here will cling onto you forever, sticky like you’d dipped your fingers in molasses. And maybe it’s because this had been the first time you’d learnt what love truly was, or maybe Taehyung had carved such a large hole in your heart that only he could ever truly fill. So even in life after him, he continues to burrow inside of you as his soul finally rests. 

Pure love was an addicting feeling. And maybe Taehyung had made you greedy, grabbing onto such a wonderful feeling over and over until it destroyed you. It wasn’t fair to blame him, but surely your greed had stemmed from somewhere.

And love could only ever be as magical as you’d imagined it if it begins with Taehyung. 

And so, the story of your first life, and therefore your first love starts with Kim Taehyung. 

Taehyung and Jimin had been the most similar of your loves. Both of them had always liked the more delicate things in life. 

Taehyung liked to read how whimsical the ocean was, white seafoam as gentle as clouds, and waves that caressed ankles that wandered the shore. Or how the stars always seemed that little bit brighter when you were in love, the universe shining its approval of something so perfect. He liked the idea of faeries that danced under the light of the moon, or reading forbidden love stories and poems that hurt his heart. Only to be mended with stories of truer love and lifetimes dedicated to another being. 

Taehyung’s sole purpose in life was to become a duke and run the estate after his father passed. Except he had never liked to be shoved into a mould, crafted by hands that had no care, rough as they shaped him. He despised the fact his life was gifted to him just so he could be chained to a role he had no purpose of fulfilling. 

His spirit had always been that of a wild bird, curious about things he had no business knowing, and wanting to wander where forbidden. 

He loved the freedom that birds had, how beautiful their feathers were, gliding through the sky without a care in the world. They had something he didn’t, and maybe his admiration had stemmed from some weird sense of jealousy. But, that never stopped the look of pure joy on his face whenever he caught a glimpse of a dove dancing on the waves of the wind. 

One of Taehyung’s hobbies had become complaining about his classes. The both of you giggled under one of the trees outside his window, shoulders knocking against each other’s as he told you stories of how his politics tutor was surely a witch, and there was no doubt in his mind that his literature teacher was a ghoul. 

The world felt as though it were crumbling at his feet on the days the two of you couldn’t meet. And so, he’d send you letters in secret, asking to meet at the front gate of the estate; where he’d hand you flowers through the bars, or kiss the back of your hand, only to beckon you closer when that doesn’t feel like enough. His plush lips warming your cheeks until he finds your lips and the both of you are melting into cold metal bars, the shyest smiles on both your faces when a maid catches the both of you. 

Most days were spent in the garden, or the drawing room where the both of you could talk for hours. You liked flicking through catalogues of dresses for the coming seasons, always asking Taehyung what he thought. Wondering if he’d like a new broach for his jackets, or if a new waistcoat would suit him. How wonderful the both of you would look matching, with a handkerchief you’d embroidered for him sat in his breast pocket– every gentle prick of the needle through fabric and each delicate line of tread, laced with love that lays beside his gently beating heart. 

Taehyung liked to recount all the things he adored about love, reciting poems and lines of novels he’d read before bed, and then telling you everything he adored about you. Because ‘love’ and ‘you’ should always fall in the same sentence in his eyes. Love would never truly be ‘love’ if you weren’t in the picture. Your silhouette was painted within each frame of his life, tucked in corners of the canvas or slipped far within his heart and mind. 

Taehyung and love were perhaps a synonym of one another. 

He was the epitome of love. 

All things romance and passion, and all things special between two people that have you shy and kicking your feet. Every moment feels like the long-awaited kiss after chapters of build-up and tension, where you have to look away from the book for a brief moment to recollect your thoughts and then bite your nails to hide a smile. 

If you had to describe Taehyung in one word, you think you’ll always gravitate towards eccentric. 

“I think the reason I was born, was to love you” he’d told you one evening, the stars like a halo around his head as he’d taken your hands into his own. 

You hadn’t known what to say, the corners of your lips quirking up at the sides because, of course, he’d utter such sweet words while the both of you laze in the gardens. Not quite ready to part ways just yet. Even if your carriage had been sat outside the house for over an hour, and your supper was probably sat on the table at home. 

“What a sorry reason to be born” you’d whispered back. 

“I don’t think so. The opposite, in fact” he tugs you a little across the grass, closer between his legs, “What is the point of life if it isn’t for unconditional love? And a mind that functions with the sole purpose of loving another?” 

Maybe it was that moment that you realised you loved love. That you loved loving Taehyung and you loved that he loved you just as much as you loved him, if not more. 

“Then, you’re my reason for living” It had fallen off your tongue quicker than you had thought to catch it. Though the smile that had stretched onto Taehyung’s face is one that will forever be etched into your mind, it had been innocent, content. 

You’d seen him smile so many times and yet, something had shifted in your mind, any qualms you had about letting go and succumbing to the purest form of adoration had fizzled out in both your hands. 

Because life wasn’t so bad when you had someone to love. 

“Just as you are my reason to live” he says. 

“I hope the both of us live forever so I never forget this feeling” you’d interlaced your fingers, cheeks flushing the lightest pink that’s veiled by the silver moonlight. Though he probably feels how warm you are when he cups your face, pressing a kiss over the tip of your nose. 

“Forever?” he hums, “Even if you were to forget, I would remind you over and over for as long as we’re together, and every life after that” 

“I’ll remind you too then” you promise, though Taehyung laughs, chest vibrating under the weight of his voice. 

“I could never forget, not when it comes to you, my love” 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You don’t remember when you’d met Taehyung, you think he’d always just been there. 

Perhaps the both of you had snuck out of a ball back in the day, two rowdy children giggling on the balcony as you whispered about guests. Which ones you liked, or the ones your mothers’ would mutter about under their breath. The both of you had done it so many times that it would be fitting for your first encounter. A habit the both of you would keep up as you grew older as well. 

Or maybe the both of you had camped out under the tables while your mothers flitted from group to group, and you’d stolen cakes from plates and perfectly cut sandwiches from unattended trays. Where you’d exchange slices of tomato for his pieces of cucumber, and you’d both share squares of cake from one fork. 

Friends from childhood had started bleeding into something a little more as the two of you grew and realized that maybe friendship wasn’t enough for either of you. And maybe that had been the little seedling from where your never-ending greed stemmed from. A constant feral need for constant love that was depicted in careful strokes of paintings and well-thought-out words bled onto a page with dark ink. 

Taehyung had known early on that it was always going to be you he married. There was no doubt in his mind that you were going to wed. It was not often he put his foot down when it came to the choices made for him in life, and making it a point he had no interest in any other woman than you, had always been a point he’d made extremely clear. 

Marriage hadn’t been something you’d put much thought into until Taehyung would bring it up as you drank tea together of an afternoon. And after the little seed of possibility had been planted in your mind, you knew you wanted to marry Taehyung. 

And you’d never second-guessed yourself, because if it was going to be anyone, then it was going to be your best friend. 

“If I were to wear a white dress, would you wear a white suit?” you lay the magazine over your chest. Taehyung pushes his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose when he tilts his head down to look at you; head resting over his thigh. 

“If that is what you want” he hums, “White flowers may be too much, so let’s add colour” 

You run a finger over your bottom lip, “Purple?” 

“Of course” he nods, “I’ll braid them into your hair too” his fingers tickle over your hairline. 

You push yourself to sit up on your elbows, “I think it’s bad luck if the groom sees the bride in her dress on the morning of the wedding” 

Taehyung runs his thumb over his bottom lip, “To hell with tradition” 

“Your mother isn’t going to be very happy” you smile, “All she ever talks about is the perfect wedding” 

Taehyung smiles, “Yes, but it isn’t her wedding. I think I’d be beyond miserable if we weren’t to see each other, I must tell you how beautiful you look before we meet at the end of the alter” 

“It would only be a few hours” you press, eyebrows raising. 

“A few hours too many. Who is supposed to help me with my tie if not you?” 

You fully sit up now, “You’d have a maid or two aiding you” 

Taehyung frowns, whatever paperwork he was reading long forgotten on the couch as he tugs your legs over his thighs, fingers dancing over the bare skin covered by your skirt. 

“But they don’t do it as you do, and I have to look my best the day we tie souls and vow to be lovers for the rest of our time alive. It’s an important day” 

“I suppose you’re right” you hum, brushing his hair from his forehead, “I too, would be lonely if we were to part on such a joyous day” 

It hadn’t been long after the both of you had entered adulthood that Taehyung’s father had died, and only a few months after that the two of you had gotten married. 

You’d worried for Taehyung, knowing that even though his relationship with his father had never been the best, at least a small part of him should have been sad that his soul had left to rest. But no matter how much you lightly prodded, and made sure to ask if he were okay, Taehyung never shed a tear. 

He never truly found a way to articulate his feelings; losing someone he never saw as a father left the smallest hole in his heart. A pinprick, because Taehyung wasn’t heartless and knew the old man had brought him into this world, something he will forever be grateful for– but that was it. 

For the thousands of days you and Taehyung had spent together, the day he had proposed would be your second favourite of them all. He hadn’t made it extravagant, nor did he make it a huge point by proposing at a large gathering. He knew you despised those sorts of events, so he had asked you to be his bride at your favourite spot. 

The pond in Taehyung’s gardens had always been your favourite. It felt as though the world only belonged to the two of you when you spent evenings alone, sat on the bench, where fireflies danced over the water, their reflection like little stars scattered across the pond, the moon so much larger in its reflection than it looked in the sky. 

The day of your wedding, and all the days after that would forever take the top spot.

Taehyung had always loved your soul. He knew you were pretty, of course, you were; you were the most ethereal being he had ever come across. 

The faeries and pretty little wonders he read about, he always pictured you in their place. But it wasn’t always about the way you looked that had Taehyung coming back for more, or his heart thumping ever so hard against the skin of his chest whenever you were around. 

He thought you had the most wonderful soul that he liked to dip his fingers into, gentle like the softest waves, or cradle it to his chest. The most delicate part of you, ever so precious, the rawest form of yourself that he’d hold on to for as long as he was allowed. Because if one day the two of you were to ever part, he’d find the path of your soul, trace his fingers through every dip and curve he’d memorized, and make his way back to your side. 

The night of your wedding, the night the both of you had given yourself to one another fully, was never a moment Taehyung thought he’d be ready for. It’s not that he was second-guessing his choice– sometimes in life the moments we’ve been waiting for feel like a lifetime away. So many hours and even more minutes between now and then, that when the day stumbles before you in all its joyous glory, no amount of falling into your mind in silent preparation had ever truly prepared you for this. 

Taehyung had worshipped your body like you were his only goddess, you were his religion, his reason for life and death and everything he breathed and consumed in his fragile mortal body. Your souls knotting as your lips pressed so gently against one another, their pinkies forever intertwined as they melted like candle wax and hardened as one lifeform. 

Taehyung particularly loved the feeling of your nails digging into the delicate skin of his shoulders. A feeling forever ingrained into his mind, sending a shiver up his spine when his mind wanders to how you looked in candlelight, spread bare for him to defile. 

The both of you felt as though the honeymoon phase was nothing but lies, an easy scare for those who fell too fast, drowning in acidic love that dragged two people away from one another in harsh waves. Because for you and Taehyung, it never ended. 

Every day that you woke up to Taehyung beside you, had you burying your face in your pillow, smile so hard to contain you covered it up with a kiss to Taehyung’s lips as he slowly woke up. 

“I love you” he’d murmur, eyes barely open. 

“I love you more” a hand cupping his cheek, you’d press a kiss to his jaw; sometimes tickled by the stubble that had grown in. 

Something ever so mundane, yet it always seemed to bring you so much happiness. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

For a week during the summer, Taehyung would hand his duties over to his assistant and take you away for a short vacation. 

You liked the little house the both of you owned on the other side of town, secluded from the rest of the world. 

It had been one summer when your love for rain had started. You often found yourself reading by the window when the summer showers would pay you a visit, dousing the garden in muddy puddles and the gentle pitter-patter of the world’s tears hitting the ground easy white noise as you danced across pages of books. Or simply watched Taehyung sits on the piano bench, only so he could sit in your company.

Taehyung had always loved playing the piano, one of his many loves that he’d buried with the immense amount of work that had piled on to him since taking the seat as head of the household. The grand piano that sat in the far room of the house was his secret door of salvation. 

“Will you play me a piece?” you motion towards the piano, doors to the garden hooked open. Sure to slam shut with the wind picking up. The air was a little sweeter that afternoon, a gentle breeze raking through your hair, licking at the tops of the pages of your book. 

“I haven’t played for a while” Taehyung closes his own book, “But if it’s for you, I could never say no” 

You take a seat beside Taehyung as he flexes his fingers, gently running his hand over the ivory keys. 

“Would you like me to get your music book?” you lay your head on his shoulder. 

He shakes his head, “No, it’s alright. I doubt I’d remember how to read much of it anyways” 

“Do you remember my favourite piece?” 

Taehyung’s tongue wets his bottom lip, “I should hope so” 

Your eyes close as the first note penetrates the air, your head jostling slightly as Taehyung reaches the other end of the keys, his cheek knocking against the top of your head. The tips of his fingers dance elegantly, gentle with each deep hum of the piano’s song. 

You perk up at the first sound of rain, barely there, almost concealed by Taehyung as his movements become bolder, each thick note more pronounced, each deep hum vibrating through your skin. 

You lift your head from his shoulder, “I didn’t think it would rain today” 

You take one look at Taehyung, the smallest smile teasing at his lips when you stand. You kick your slippers off by the open door, toes curling into the damp grass as you step outside. 

You blink as a raindrop falls on your nose, slipping until it’s wetting your lips. You turn back to look at Taehyung, waving when he lifts his head to look at you; and he winces when he presses the wrong note. 

You wander further into the garden, hiking your skirt up so it won’t drag across the wet soil. 

As the rain gets heavier the sound of the piano is slowly drowned out, the world yours for the moment before you’re turning back to Taehyung. 

“Tae” you call back inside, beckoning him over when he turns towards you, “Come dance with me” 

The piano is left and forgotten as Taehyung pushes himself to stand, shoes piled with your slippers as Taehyung steps into the garden. He slinks towards you, hair starting to cling to his forehead as the rain gets heavier. 

“You’ll catch a cold” he takes your hand, tugging you into his chest. 

“But the world is so beautiful when it rains” 

“Just this once I’ll indulge you” he presses a kiss to your forehead. 

As much as the world looks wonderful in that moment, Taehyung outshined it all. Your clothes stuck to the both of you like a second skin, your hair tickling the side of your face, clinging to you like sticky wet vines down the back of your neck.

Taehyung’s hands wander your body, pulling you closer when you start to drift away– your hips finally falling in sync. All those hours of classes on how to dance are washed away by the rain as the both of you stumble, almost falling over each other’s feet. 

“Look” you point towards the back of the estate, “there’s a rainbow” you laugh. 

Taehyung follows your line of sight, “How pretty” he hums, his hands falling to your waist. 

Your fingers tease over his chest, heart hammering under his skin, mere seconds away from jumping out of his skin. Taehyung’s hands wander further down, a surprised moan catching in the back of your throat when he grabs the meat of your ass; tugging you into his body. And you can feel his growing erection against your stomach.  

“Not in the garden” you whisper, fingers trailing lower until you’re gently tugging at his belt. 

Taehyung leans down, warm breath fanning the side of your neck. He presses a wet kiss to the unblemished skin, “I wouldn’t give the serving staff the pleasure of seeing you fall apart for me” he whispers, sodden hair falling over your shoulder.

You take his hands from where they’re teasing over the top of your thighs, “Let’s go” you take long strides back towards the house. 

“Where to, my love?” he trails after you, the most giddy smile on his face. 

You look at him over your shoulder, “Our bedroom” 

Your feet slap wetly against the tile floors, muddy footprints trailing behind the both of you. Youthful joy thrums throughout your body, giggles hard to keep down as the both of you stagger through the hallway towards the bedroom. 

Taehyung’s overzealous in the way he opens the door, and you both wince when it bangs against the wall. The briefest clarity grazes your mind before lust sets back in, and all you can focus on is the incessant throbbing between your legs, and the man stood before you. 

You kick the door closed, Taehyung pulling his wet shirt over his head when you turn back to him– your dress is soon to follow. 

“Would you mind helping me?” you turn your back to Taehyung, shoulders curling inwards as his fingers trace over the intricate ribbing of your corset. 

He’s gentle as he tugs at the ribbons, and you heave a sigh of relief, muscles finally easing a little. Dull throb sinks out of your ribs as you heave a deep breath. 

You turn around, Taehyung’s eyes trailing to your bare chest, curving down the slope, fingers itching at his sides to sink and dig his nails into the plush flesh. He swallows, Adams's apple bobbing under the weight of desire. 

“My beautiful wife” he whispers, hands running up the length of your arms before he’s teasing the edge of your breasts. You trace over his belt, tugging impatiently as he pulls you towards the bed. 

You fall backwards onto the mattress, air momentarily punched from your lungs. Taehyung’s arms cage your head, thigh nudging your legs open for him. 

Your wet hair sticks to your neck, small droplets of water falling over your cheeks from Taehyung’s own hair as his eyes wander over your face. Windows to his soul wide open as sickly sweet love dances within his eyes, adoration you know you’ll never get from another man bared naked, yours for the taking. 

You rut up against his knee, damp cotton panties dragging deliciously against your clit. 

Taehyung’s arms flex as he leans down, plush lips trailing down your jaw, gently plucking soft moans from the back of your throat with every mean nip of his teeth over delicate skin. 

Your thighs clamp around Tae’s leg, arms slithering around his shoulders as you use him for your own pleasure, short bursts of pure arousal wracking up your body with every purposeful tense of his muscles. 

“Good girl” he groans, falling to hold himself up by his elbows as his lips map out the rest of your body– kissing over your neck, the underside of your breasts, down towards your stomach. You whine as he kneels before you, hips bucking upwards to try and chase the slowly fizzling pleasure. 

He kisses your mound over your underwear, tips of his fingers barely brushing over your clit as he trails them down towards your covered folds. Thumb splitting your labia, guttural groan rumbling from his chest as he feels your slick heat.

He can’t seem to stifle the chuckle that slips past his lips either as you whine, the most pitiful pout tugging onto your face as he teases you. 

“How needy” he croons, adding a little more pressure over your entrance, “I’ll make sure to make you feel good” 

You lift your hips, a silent invitation for him to tug your panties off, and he does, dropping them beside him; forgotten as he looks at your slick soaked pussy. 

“Tae” you whisper, impatient as your fingers tangle into his wet hair, careful as you try and tug him closer to where you needed him most without hurting him.

“Hm?” he hums, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as he pushes them open a little wider, making it easier for him to slip closer to his favourite place. 

Your toes curl as he bends, placing the lightest kiss over your clit, “Want you” 

“Want you too, my love” he murmurs, hot breath fanning over your folds. 

He licks a bold stripe from your entrance to your clit, tongue dipping past your walls before he’s pulling back, wad of spit dribbling over your already sodden cunt.

Your thighs threaten to twitch closed, and when Taehyung notices this he tugs them over his shoulders, dragging you a little further to the edge of the bed. 

His thumb teases over your clit, thrumming at the sensitive little bud as he pushes his tongue back inside of you. The moan you let out is sure to have echoed down the halls, your embarrassment only amplified when you feel another dribble of slick gush past your walls, sure to coat Taehyung’s chin shiny. 

“M’ gonna cum” you hiccup, hips frantically bucking upwards as Taehyung further smothers his face into your pussy. 

He hums, a new wave of arousal coursing through your body at the unexpected vibrations. 

It’s a haphazard flick of your clit that has you tumbling head first into your orgasm, thighs quivering as they clamp around Taehyung’s head, though that doesn’t seem to deter him as he licks into your cunt, swallowing down your release. 

“S’ too much” you sob, hands pushing your lover from between your thighs. He kisses your knee, head flopping across your leg as he looks up at you. 

Your stomach clenches at the dopey smile on his face, thumb running over his bottom lip, still shiny with your arousal. 

“Are you tired, my love?” he asks, fingers curling around your wrists, kissing your palm, then the tips of each finger. 

You shake your head, “I can still go if you’d like” 

“This isn’t about me, it’s about you”

You swallow, unexplainable love swelling inside your chest. 

“Please make love to me” you whisper, pink hue deepening in shade on your cheeks as Taehyung stands at full height, shucking off whatever clothes he still had on. 

You can’t help but wet your lips, watching as he runs a gentle hand over his length, slicking his cock up with pearly beads of precome. 

You push yourself up further on the bed, legs falling open as Taehyung kneels before you. 

He runs a finger through your folds, barely dipping a fingertip inside of you before he’s pulling out, pushing your thighs further apart. 

He guides his cock to your entrance, slicking the head with your cum before he’s gently pushing into you. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, cunt clenching around Taehyung’s length as he gently rocks into you. 

He groans, barely pulling out before feeding you another inch. His hands roam up the length of your body as he finally bottoms out, hips rutting into you by habit. 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss which he melts into, eyes fluttering shut as he tilts his head, tongue teasing over the seam of your lips. 

He licks up into your mouth, concoction of your saliva clinging to his tongue when he pulls back. 

“Ready?” he murmurs against your lips. 

“Mmhmm” you hum, muscles falling lax as Taehyung pushes your thighs up to your chest. He almost pulls out, the air punched from your lungs as he snaps back into you. 

Unabashed, you moan, Taehyung’s name tumbling from your lips like it were the only word you knew as he thrusts into you. 

It’s wet when Taehyung’s thighs meet your ass, sticky with arousal that clings to both your skin and moans a harmony with one another. 

Your hand snakes down the length of your body, between your thighs, teasing over your clit as Taehyung throws his head back, utterly consumed by unadulterated pleasure. 

“Together” he groans, hips losing their calculated pace. 

His cockhead nudges over your sweet spot, a whine dripping off your lips that Taehyung catches, kiss messy, teeth clashing. 

You pick up the pace on your clit, fizzling pleasure slipping down your spine, slick gushing from your hole, so many feelings, so many emotions– all amplified as endorphins buzz at your brain, a shockwave of dopamine setting you alight.   

You feel Taehyung twitch between your walls, your pussy clenching sporadically around his length as he nears his orgasm. 

Taehyung tips over the edge before you do, creamy white cum painting your walls in thick ropes. Your own orgasm following as you feel another wave of Taehyung’s seed flood your cunt. 

His hips twitch as you continue to clench around him, pushing his release further into you. 

Your chest stutters as you try and catch your breath, fingers splayed over your mound as you fall back into reality. 

Your moan as Taehyung pulls out, a hiccup following as he presses a kiss to your cheek. His fingers gather up the dribble of cum that follows his cock, pushing it back inside of you. And you twitch at that, overstimulated. 

He reaches behind your head for a pillow, your thighs falling to the bed, to which Taehyung tuts. 

“Lift your hips up for me, darling” he soothes, singular hand gathering both your ankles, pulling the lower half of your body from the mattress so he can slip the pillow underneath you. 

“You’d look awfully pretty baring my child” his hand trails down your stomach, over your womb. 

“I hope this time we are lucky” you tell him, finger interlacing with the ones over your stomach. 

“Me too, my love. Our child would be the most precious little thing” 

You smile, eyes slipping shut as you paint the image of what your baby would look like, “I hope they look like you” 

“I’d always wished they’d look like you. Their mother holds all the beauty of this cruel world” 

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles from your chest, “Then how about they look like the both of us, as their father shares all of that beauty” 

“That would be wonderful” Taehyung pushes himself off the bed, slipping on a robe that had been forgotten on one of the chairs that morning. 

“What if they aren’t a boy?” your hands fall over your chest, watching Taehyung as he gathers the bowl of water and towels. 

He turns to look at you, “What would it matter if they were a girl?” his eyebrows furrow. 

“Wouldn’t you need an heir” 

He wets his bottom lip, “Boy or girl, I’m not bothered, my love. If we were to have a son then I would never subject them to the horrors of becoming heir. And if we have a precious little daughter, I would love her all the same, and if one day she decides she wants to take over the estate then I would let her” 

The corners of your lips tug up into a smile, “Then I am glad” Your hand finds his as he takes a seat beside you on the bed, dipping the towel into water, gently dragging it over your sweat-slicked skin. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Falling in love with Taehyung had made you a lot of things. 

Juvenile had never been on top of that list, though when you think about it, it really should have been. Or that somewhere written in the fine print of your story, neither of you would die, that you’d both freeze in time and continue your lives for the rest of eternity. 

Some days when you’d sit alone, you wish Monet had been around during your life with Taehyung. His paintings as beautiful as the love you shared. Paintings full of purpose, the world through the eyes of a man– impressionist paintings that had so much raw colour, so much more vibrance than the real world. 

You wish he’d have been able to put paint to canvas, where every gentle stroke of his brush was a piece of stupid, young naivety put into breath-taking art. Meaningful, purposeful, and beautiful. Because your ignorance would have made a beautiful collection, a series of a time when the future wasn’t as perfect as his art. Bringing both you and your lover to downfall. 

Your life was not the art of Monet, nor was it as mesmerising as Van Gogh’s Starry Night. You weren’t frozen in time like you were part of history, forever documented on paper and hung for the world to see. 

You were naive enough to think that with Taehyung’s new rise to power, somewhat unexpected in high society, he wouldn’t have one or two enemies. 

The end of your first life hadn’t been what you had wanted it to be. 

As much as you remember the day you had gotten married or all the afternoons you and Taehyung had spent in the garden, dancing in the rain, under rainbows and the sun that peeked through the clouds, there to celebrate your love just as much as the both of you were; what was supposed to be the perfect ending like all the far-fetched stories Taehyung read, this was more of a tragedy. 

Because that’s what it was– farfetched. 

You remember the afternoon that the perfect life you had, had crumbled. Sand slipping through your fingers, falling to the bottom of the hourglass. 

You lay on the couch, your foot tapping against the arm, Taehyung’s quil tinking against the bottle of ink. In recent months you’d found yourself reading Taehyung’s favourite books, all of their spines worn down, loved and read over and over. 

“Do you smell that?” you push yourself up onto your elbows, the book laid over your lap. 

“Smell what, my darling?” he takes off his glasses, hand running over his tired eyes. 

Your eyes meet Tae’s, “Something smells as though it’s burning” 

The both of you sit in silence for a moment before Taehyung pushes his chair back, peering out the window. His fingers try and pull at the latch, finding it stuck, and he turns back to you. 

“Maybe I’m imagining it” you tell him when you see his eyebrows furrow. 

“I can definitely smell something” he turns back to you, “I can’t tell what. Go and call someone to open this window, it’s jammed”

Your book is dropped onto the couch as you push yourself up, you go to open the door to Taehyung’s office, only for the door not to open. You push a little harder, shoulder knocking uncomfortably against the hardwood. 

You press an ear to the door. 

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung asks, stalking towards you. 

“It won’t open” 

Taehyung makes a noise from the back of his throat, and you step out of the way when he takes hold of the door handle. 

He mirrors your earlier action, shoulder knocking against the door. 

“It won’t open” he turns to you. 

“I know, my love” A gentle smile moulds onto your lips. 

You press your ear to the door again, “Do you hear that?” 

Taehyung follows; ear pressed to the door, “Burning?” 

“Burning?” you stand straight. 

You crouch down, fingers feeling over the gap between the floor and door, “Hello?” you call out, hand flinching away as heat licks over your fingers. 

“Is anyone there?” Taehyung shouts, fist banging against the door. 

“Taehyung” you tug at his shirt, trying to pull him away from the door. He relents, taking a step forwards, “Taehyung, it’s a fire” You take his hand. 

“What?” 

“It’s a fire” You show him your fingertips, hands shaking slightly as the reality of what was happening settles in. 

“You’re hurt” he murmurs, “If one of the staff would just answer we could treat your wounds” his lips barely brush over the burn. 

“Taehyung it’s barely an injury, not when we’re locked in here with a fire right outside that door” 

He swallows, “We’ll find a way out” 

“How?” you dare ask, “We can’t go out the window, that’s suicide from this high up” 

His foot taps against the floor, hand running over his jaw in thought. 

Your focus is snatched away from your lover when something creaks, burning flames slithering under the crack under the door, molten snakes with no goal in mind. 

Taehyung pulls you further into his office, the door crackling as the flames start to chew it up, an onslaught of heat spilling into the room. You can smell the gasoline, splintered wood glistening in it as the door creaks off its hinges, flinging the fire further into the office, and you watch as it singes over the carpet. 

The flames dance before you, a mesmerising dance, crawling up the walls, heated footsteps stalking across the rug, heady puffs of carbon monoxide smoking into the air. 

Your hand flies to cover your mouth when a thin wisp of smoke slips down your windpipe, tickling your throat and searing at the inside of your lungs. 

Taehyung pulls you into his chest as you back into the wall furthest away from the fire, “It’s going to be okay” he heaves, his own hand covering his nose and mouth, dry cough spluttering past his lips. 

Your eyes squeeze shut as the fire slinks closer to the both of you, dangerously close, teasing as it flicks at your ankles, its amble arms chewing up the bookcases, rage only amplifying with each novel it consumes. 

You catch sight of a silhouette standing outside the office, body veiled by thick flames that continue to slink into the office. Another splash of gasoline only makes it burn brighter, sweat tickling the back of your neck. 

Your arms slip around Taehyung’s waist, and he helps you both sit on the ground, arms now holding your shoulders. A lame attempt at holding you away from the blazing fire that creeps closer. 

Your lungs can’t seem to get enough oxygen, panic setting into your bones as you heave for a full breath. Your eyes water as you choke on what should have been a rush of oxygen, only your lungs burn with the ash that settles inside of you, clinging to your windpipe– coating the inside of your mouth. 

“Try not to–” Taehyung coughs, hand lifting to clasp around his throat, cheeks flushing a deep red “-breathe it in too much– cyanide” 

A yelp gets caught in your throat as the flames flicker too close to you, singing the hem of your dress. You try and kick it away, hand flapping down to make sure the fire doesn’t chew at any more of your clothing. You try to ignore the prickly burn to your bare skin, eyes squeezing shut as you try and curl in on yourself to make you smaller. 

You tug on Taehyung’s shirt, dry cough lurching your body forward that Taehyung tries to catch only to heave. 

“I love you” you whisper, the both of you cornered. Nowhere to run. 

The figure stood outside the office long gone, fire now out of their control. A wild beast that had no plans of stopping until it had chewed and gnawed at your home, until it had nothing to fuel it anymore, leaving behind piles of ash and broken dreams– charred bodies and guilty minds to the ones who had started this. 

You flinch backwards when Taehyung’s desk folds in on itself, flames spitting out its joy as the planks of wood slowly char under the heat; a warning for your own destiny. 

His fingers lace into the hair on the back of your head, pulling you into him, “And I love you. When the both of us are reborn, I will find you, and we can fall in love all over again” he manages, the flames looking like hellish wings behind his back, slowly licking at his shirt, sizzling the fabric– more chemicals sifting through the air and into your fragile lungs. 

Taehyung curls further into you when the fire licks at his shoes, easily chewing through the leather, deft fingertips tracing up his legs, and over his body.

“Don’t say that” Your fingers loosen their grasp on his shirt as you heave for another breath, mind entirely gone as you spin, the world spinning with you. Your brain felt as though it were being flushed out with helium, pressure so much you think it might explode. 

Your eyes squeeze shut.

And when you open again, Jimin’s there. 

His eyes still wide with shock. 

You feel bile rise up your throat at the sight of him, blood smeared across his perfect face, puncture still oozing red from his neck soaking through his shirt fully. Your floor is in no better shape, though you think there's as much of your own blood as there is his. 

“Jimin?” you whisper, vision momentarily veiled by salty tears that fall down your cheeks like pitiful pearls, mixing with the crimson the drips from a gash in your head, dull ache migrating to behind your eyes. 

“Jimin you have to wake up now. Please” 

He doesn’t move, not when you hear footsteps from the other room– heavy boots that clatter against old wood– not when you call his name. Not when the front door creaks closed and the world is silent once more, or when your chest stutters out another breath and you feel another wave of blood gush out of your stomach, adding to the puddle below the both of you. 

“Jimin” you call again, choking on your own sob, fists balling up, “Jimin, please don’t leave me. I’m scared” 

You look into his eyes. Nothing. All signs of life spilt onto the floor. 

In a sick and twisted way, you’re glad Jimin had gone before you. 

You’d have hated it if he had to watch you dead on the bedroom floor while he slowly follows you. At least now you could be with him a little longer, even if you couldn’t tell him goodbye for the last time. Or tell him how much you love him, or how happy he’d made you, or how grateful you are. 

So many words left unsaid, that you swallow back down with a sob. And they mix with the bile that singes your throat, so close to spilling onto the puddle of red as you make eye contact with your dead lover. 

You drag your body through the blood on the floor, closer until your chest is pressed against Jimin’s and your body falls lax against him, arm slung over his side. 

You press the palm of your hand against your open wound, what little hope you had left inside of you, the smallest voice whispering that maybe you could survive. Though somewhere deeper down you know that your soul will soon follow Taehyung’s, and now Jimin's too. 

You push your head into the curve where his neck meets his shoulder, tangy, metallic blood staining your lips as you kiss over the tainted skin. 

He was still warm, skin still very much his as your fingers skim over his back. Ever so gentle as though he would crack if you weren’t careful. And you would have gathered him up in your arms if you’d had the strength. 

And at that final moment when it settles within your mind and your heart that your body can no longer hold onto the slither of life still inside of you– the easing thump of your heart mellowing inside your chest. You remember the little note Jimin left on his pillow for you to wake up to that morning. 

“When you and I hug, our hearts are locked behind our ribcages and touch through our skin. Always beating in sync. And for as long as my heart beats beside yours, it will belong to you. For those moments we part, perhaps it falls out of sync, and when we reunite, my heart may just be reminded who it beats for. And we will be in sync once more ♡’

☆ﾟ thank you for reading!! reblogs are always appreciated, and please let me know what you think!!

permanent taglist: @m1sss1mp @supernoonanyc

[hollowwrites]

Blindsided

Ominis x MC

Part 15

Summary - Ominis has become sick of Sebastian’s possession of the dorm room and has temporarily moved into the Undercroft. Finally…some privacy…

Again feel free to swap Evelyn with MC or Y/N

Warnings - 🌶️ Fingering, Female masturbation, Mild Choking, Biting, Praise Kink (If you squint) the word gusset (I know some people hate it) all characters aged up 18+

Sorry if this seems really awkward. I personally hate smut that is written just a bit too smoothly. If I’m writing two people’s first time…it’s going to be awkward and slow. Sorry if that’s not what you’re into. Fair play to people who wrote smut I am deffo a fluff gal. Sorry if this is bad. No one look at me!!!

Word Count - 6173

-

“Thought I’d find you here”

Ominis raised his head as though it weighed a tonne when he heard Evelyn walk into the Undercroft.

As normal when Ominis occupied the space, a faint piano could be heard from somewhere within the cluttered room. The smell of tea filled the cavernous space and the singular large chair he favoured had been pulled into a more central position, as though he were looking over the Triptych like a window.

Obviously he wasn’t.

But none of that really registered with Evelyn.

What concerned her currently was the way he flinched when she entered. Like she’d startled him.

“Hmmm, were you looking for me?” He asked lazily pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Oh…only all my life” she whispered scared to shatter the peaceful ambiance he had created.

He exhaled a laugh as she approached him her hands finding his shoulders and kneading softly into the harsh panels of his shoulder blades.

It had been a few weeks since the last trial and Sebastians attempts to try and solve the Mystery of the spider egg had been fruitless. It had gotten to be a bit too much, the boys dorm now covered in silk and arachnids from his initial attempts to solve its puzzle…Arachnids or Acromantulas, they’re weren’t entirely sure.

But all Sebastian was left with was an empty room full of spiders and an exasperated friend sick of pulling webbing from his hair.

Each night he attempted to resolve it but so far to no avail. And finally, after weeks of arachnid related torture, Sebastian finally asked everyone for help.

Ominis agreed, of course, on the condition that he would not be returning to the dorms until the trail was done. And only after every last eight legged demon had been purged from the halls.

So for now he resided in the Undercroft, a makeshift bed tucked under the Triptych, all blankets and pillows and no mattress.

Not that it was unusual for Ominis to sleep soundly in uncomfortable locations.

“Did I startle you? That’s very unlike you” Evelyn mused, softly digging into his shoulders. A long exhausted moan left his lips and his eyes closed slowly as she did.

“Sorry I wasn’t paying attention…I haven’t been sleeping” Evelyn opened her mouth to fuss, to ask the inevitable string of questions she usually did upon hearing that. He waved her off dismissively “Don’t worry not nightmares…been trying to figure out the next trial for Sebastian”

“I see…” her hands reached a standstill at the apex of his shoulders and as she did, he reached up, soothingly, brushing across her knuckles until a familiar dull poking, pricked his fingertips.

He smiled wistfully.

”You’re wearing my ring” he said mutedly

“Of course I am…It’s beautiful”

“You don’t have to…” he adds, though in a much quieter voice; not quite a whisper, but close.

“I know I don’t have to…but you gave it to me. It means something” she replied in kind, her tone matching his. Filled with love and adoration.

He smiles softly, taking her wrist between his fingers and pulling her around to his front. He rested his forehead against her stomach and sighed.

It was as though he was pulling her in for strength, using her warmth and affection to fuel him. And for what it was worth, it worked. He pulled away moments later, a charming albeit lopsided smile on his face. He rose from his chair, taking her hand effortlessly and looped his arm around her waist.

“Dance with me…” he demanded in a soft tone

“Is that how you ask?” He had already spun her around slowly, bringing her back to his chest as she said this. The smile on her face oozed into her words making her argument…completely moot.

“Oh…I apologise profusely” he said sounding not the least bit sorry. He took one long step backwards, heels clicking together as he bowed deeply. Somehow, his eyes never left hers…

“Please…” the word was lithe as it slithered from his lips and into her ears, sending a shiver down her spine. He chuckled before continuing; “May I have this dance?”

“Hmm…” she took a step forward as he rose back to his towering height. “Do I have a choice?”

“I’m afraid not, dear”

Despite his words, and despite the distinct almost predatory look in his eyes…he extended a hand to her.

The slight twitch of his fingers commanded her attention, and though she would never deny him, there was a pull towards him. Like destiny…or fate.

If one believes in such things.

She took his hand, though her fingers glided along his palm, wrist and forearm up to his shoulder as she tucked herself into him. She wanted to tell him to wipe the smirk of his face, but something about the curl of his lip…the smallest display of teeth as his smirk grew wider…

He looked…

…happy.

The eagerness at which he grabbed her waist was queue enough for Evelyn. She took his other hand gently in hers whilst his arm pulled impossibly closer. It had hooked itself just below her ribs and with his domineering height, pulled her almost off the floor entirely. She giggled softly, her toes the only thing keeping her grounded as their chests met.

Slowly, and with a more intimate nature than he showed her in the Common Room, he lead her across the desolate chamber.

Every now and then, he would stop to kiss her hand. Each time he paused, the kiss became less and less chivalrous.

First it was her hand, then her cheek, then his head stooped low so they could dance cheek to cheek.

And suddenly, he was nuzzling her neck, his nose drawing long arduous lines across her jaw.

Ominis took in a deep breath; her scent fuelling him further and made his eyes go glassy.

He strode forward, dipping her low causing her head to tilt back as he held her horizontal to the floor.

His hand splayed supportively across the small of her back, thumb stroking across her waist. His warm breath ghosted across her neck.

The sharp inhale from her lips snapped him out of his reverie. He gently shook his head and pulled her back to her feet, his hands sturdy as they held onto her waist just a touch too tightly.

His eyes remained fixed on her and unlike the usual calm pools she’d gaze lovingly into…

Two darkening wells stared back at her.

”How is it you never seem to fumble for my hands? You always seem to know exactly where I am….no matter what” she shifted uncomfortably under his direct eye contact.

She did want to know…it was a question she had on her mind for the longest time. But right now she just needed to move his gaze.

It wasn’t like he made her uncomfortable. It was the way he looked at her.

As she swayed, so did he.

As she leaned in closer, so did he.

It was one of an embarrassingly long list of things he did that caused her stomach to twist and turn.

And it was like he knew that too.

The look of calm and content happiness faded with the blink of an eye, replaced with this twinkle she rarely saw in Ominis.

She saw it almost daily in Garreth and Sebastian…but Ominis?

His devious nature wound the knot forming, tighter.

What is he concocting?

“Honestly?…” He started “…I’m not sure. Best I can come up with is my magic advances my sense of Proprioception, past what a normal person has”

“Pre…prop…what?” Evelyn tilted her head and he mimicked her, almost like he was proving a point.

“Proprioception…” he chuckled and the twinkle in his eye flared once more. “…let me show you”

He stepped away from her, his long fingers reaching up to undo the knot of his tie.

The last thing she saw before he wrapped the soft, silken material around her eyes was his wide, devilish smirk.

“Can you see?” He asked, amusement heavy in his voice.

“Not a great deal…” she muttered and lifted the tie slightly to peer at him. He paced back and forth in front of her before he disappeared just off to her right and behind her.

“No cheating…” Ominis scolded softly, plucking her wrist away from her body and keeping it there, letting the silken blindfold fall back to place.

“Do you see how you know where your arm is despite not seeing it?” He twirled her around as he had in the dance before and she gasped.

This is what he experienced on a daily basis and she can’t handle it for less than a minute.

It drove her insane.

She trusted him implicitly but the idea of him being in completely control of her in that moment…

…her stomach suddenly felt hollow and her lungs empty.

“That’s Proprioception, the sense of knowing where your body is in relation to itself” he let her arm fall back down to her side but not before kissing this inside of her wrist. She gasped again listening intently to the click of his heel against the stone as he started to circle her.

”Mine is just a little stronger. It extends beyond myself…things around me. So I can see you in front of me and so long as you don’t move…” he was silent for a beat, her breath catching when his voice was suddenly right next to her ear “…too quickly…I know where you are. What you’re doing…”

His words felt heavy as though they carried more meaning than a simple explanation of his abilities.

“I can focus it too like duelling. It’s much stronger if I have my wand” he continued casually, like the breathe upon her neck and his words weren’t setting her stomach ablaze.

He had to know.

He knew everything else

“I…see” she muttered shakily, her hands twitching to remove the blindfold. Once again, he caught her fingers, entwining them with his own, his chest flush with her back. He held their combined hands against her stomach whilst he pulled her hair from her shoulder. His finger danced across her skin as he did so.

She took in a sharp intake of air through her mouth, her lips seemed constantly parted as though she anticipated him kissing her.

Maybe it was wishful thinking.

He remained stationed behind her, his hand falling to her waist, feeling the steadily increasing rise and fall of her breathing against her ribs. His breath was warm against her neck and she could feel his lips against her ear as he breathed.

But…Ominis was a gentleman. And so released her, rather abruptly, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You know…” she whispered, a devious plan forming as she pulled the tie from her eyes.

He was showing marvellous levels of restraint.

Restraint she no longer had

Because of him…

“…‘Mystery Man’ still hasn’t asked me to the ball”

“Oh I know…” he grumbled, his voice low and strained.

“It’s starting to feel a little like no one wants to go with me” she sighed overly dramatically and took a step closer to him. His eyes went wide when he felt her getting nearer and nearer…until he could feel the heat of her chest against his.

He chuckled heavily.

“I don’t know. There was that Durmstrang…” he brushed some hair behind her ear, resisting every urge to pull at the strands and pull the noises he’d heard too few times. “…I think he learnt his lesson though. And there’s Prewett, but I think he knows better. It seems at least there’s some semblance of a brain between those ears”

Ominis laughed…darkly. It caused vibrations to emanate through both of their chests and he pulled away to ‘gaze’ down at her.

“I wonder why no one has asked me?” She pondered putting on the most saccharin, overly innocent tone.

“Probably because…” he growled out pushing forward slightly so their noses almost touched. He took in a calm breath “…they know you’re mine…”

“Have you staked your claim on me?” She whispered back, lips dangerously close to his to the point they brushed delicately against the full flesh of his bottom lip. “Because I don’t remember you asking…”

“I don’t need to ask…no one will take what is mine” his voice like music dancing it’s way across her skin but it sounded almost painful. The restraint he currently showed was…waning. “…I may no longer be a part of that family but…Gaunts are known for being quite possessive” His fingers brushed up her arms to cup her face, his fingers trembling against her cheek.

“Yes…of artifacts and trinkets…not really people”

“I’ve just found a different kind of treasure I wish to hoard away for myself”

“Stop…” she said sternly but playfully “Flattery will get you no where”

“Won’t it? Then why is that hummingbird of a heart of yours rattling agaisnt its cage” he whispered against the shell of her ear.

“Ominis…”

“Yes?”

“Kiss me…”

“I…I can’t…” he groaned his hands dropping to her waist, fingernails digging into flesh there as though he was physically keeping himself back

“You need to get off me before I do something…” his voice trailed off, low and husky. And filled with an emotion she’d not heard from him much before. He sounded…embarrassed

“What if I want you to do something?” She urged trying to sound level headed and calm, though she sounded whiney and needy as the words came from her lips.

His head dropped to her shoulder, as it often did when he sought comfort. His lips remained a breath away from her neck, trembling at the temptation to just sink his teeth in.

But that was selfish.

And that’s what he wanted.

He wanted to make her happy. Make her feel loved. Make her feel…

“I don’t know what I’m doing…” he confessed against her skin.

“Nor do I…” she whispered back, her hand reaching up to trace tiny intricate patterns across his back. She hoped they were talking about the same thing, she hoped he wanted this to.

She hoped she wasn’t making a fool of herself…

“It’s not that simple” he sighed and rested his full weight against her shoulder. “You can see. You’ll know when you’re…doing something I like. And there’s only so much books can teach someone with my…disadvantage” his face buried further into to her neck and hair. Like he was trying to hide away.

“Do you have any idea how frustrating, how much it pains me, to have you within inches of me and all I can do…is this?”

This was strange.

Normally he was quite confident with his abilities. Not moments ago he showed off how he saw the world around him with almost arrogant levels of confidence. Most of the time she forgot he was even blind, with how capable and independent he was.

But maybe this all felt a bit much. A bit too real.

Then suddenly she felt guilty for trying to coax him further.

“We don’t have to go any further than y-“ she started before his head snapped back up to look down at her, shaking his head over and over.

“No no no no no that’s not what I’m…I definitely do. If you do that is. I’m just…apprehensive” he tripped and stumbled over his words, trying to get her to understand his unique predicament.

Then her mind spiralled to how she had helped him in the past, how she’d taught him Herbology and Potions techniques, shown him the texture of materials, guided his hand when he needed it.

And her heart sank as an idea formed in her mind.

“Ominis, Do you want to try…being intimate…with me?” She asked shakily, her hands snaking up his arm to cup his cheeks, imploring that he listen to her. Thank Merlin he was blind, or perhaps her cheeks may have blinded him with how hot they were glowing.

“Desperately…” A dry, humourless laugh left him “…it’s practically all I have thought about since the First Trail…but”

“But…” she interrupted “…I have an idea”

She took a step away from him, his head quirked curiously to the right as he sought her out. It wouldn’t take him long, her fingers gently took his and she pulled him towards the armchair he normally resided in.

“Do you remember that Divination assignment? The palm reading?” She asked gently taking his hand and absentmindedly tracing over the lines on his hand. As she did he muttered softly to himself…

“Heart Line…Life Line…Fate line…”

He recited with perfect accuracy, though that lesson was weeks ago.

Then everything clicked and his cheeks burned hotter than he’d ever felt. Or that she’d ever seen.

“Are you…suggesting you can…show me how to…” Ominis’ words were careful and calculated. He’d come this far, he wasn’t ruining everything on a simple misunderstanding.

“It’s what other couples do…” She reasoned, suddenly feeling dirty or sordid for even thinking such a thing “…Only their method is trail and error and ours would just be a little more-”

“…Hands on” he smirked.

Bastard…how is he always so…so…

“Ugh…” Evelyn groans pulling her hand away from his palm and covering her face. “…It’s all just so unromantic now I think about it” she muffled from the sanctuary behind her hands.

“Oh don’t worry…” his long fingers looped around her wrists pulling them away and to her side. He took a step closer to her, his head bowed low to meet her gaze if she wished “…I have romance covered. That’s not what I’m worried about. I just need to know you’re okay with this”

As he spoke, his thumb drew tiny circles across her palm. It was almost as though they were dancing again.

“I am…” she breathed.

The smile he then wore was unlike any she had seen before. It had a softness to it initially. Like he was pleased she trusted him and she couldn’t help but mirror it. But then the longer they stood there, swaying slightly, the harder it grew. An edge to lips she hadn’t even seen when he’d pushed her against his bed.

And whereas last time there was a nervous, sickly feeling in her gut, now there was just…need.

Want.

He spun her again as he had earlier though instead of pulling her back to the exact same position, this time he pulled her so her back pressed against his chest.

“I’m so glad you suggested this, Evelyn.” He murmured over the shell of her ear, his fingers combing the hair from one side of her neck to the other.

“I am a fast learner. I’ve already learned what you like and what you don’t like…” she could feel his breath against her neck as he whispered down to her, his cheek nuzzling against the side of her face.

“For example…”

The smug smirk that tugged at his lips was so blatant in his voice.

And before Evelyn could question him, or combat him or flirt back gently as she usually would…

His teeth dug into the flesh of her neck, just below her ear.

She bit into her lip to stop the gasp from ripping from her. But he must have known. Must’ve heard the restraint in the hitch of her breath, or the way her shoulder squared in his arms. Because his teeth pulled back and he lapped against the divots he left behind. He licked broadly up her neck to her earlobe, making her shiver. And once again his teeth were against her as he grinned.

“Don’t silence yourself…please” he purred “I need to hear you. I need to know…”

“I understa-aaah!” She choked out. His lips closed around her earlobe, suckling softly before letting it go.

“Good…” he praised and even that sent a shiver down her spine. “…you must tell me if you don’t like something…”

It felt a little like he was trying to demonstrate what he meant. Like the next thing he did, he almost expected her to say no.

But she didn’t…

And she wanted more.

His fingers came up from her waist to undo the bow around her collar. When it fell away, he tossed it to the side like it offended him. Like he had some sort of vendetta against anything that kept him from her.

Then his hands were everywhere again. One tugged at the collar he had freed whilst the other moved towards the buttons of her blouse, again freeing more of her soft flesh for him to devour.

The moment her shoulder was available his lips found it, mapping across her skin.

And she was fine for the moment.

Her breathing fast and shallow as she enjoyed his attentions but she was fine.

Calm.

Collected.

Then his lips brushed over the sensitive area between her neck and shoulder and she gasped under her breath. A tiny soft sigh of pleasure that not even she was certain she made.

But he heard…

And in response his teeth dug harshly into the muscle. And she crumpled and fell against him with a loud and needy whimper.

She felt him grin, though his teeth still sunk in. Then his cheeks hollowed and the pressure against her neck felt divine.

“Ominis…” she whimpered and pressed against him.

“Too much?” he murmured as his lips left her neck with a sinful pop.

“Not enough…” Evelyn murmured, barely able to get the words out before his teeth were on her again.

Everything ramped up.

The pressure at her neck, the speed of his fingers on her blouse. Not even he could keep up with himself as he ripped a button from the fabric, pulling it from her shoulder.

The button pinging off and cascading to the floor broke something in Ominis and he groaned.

Deep and guttural from his chest.

She felt it vibrate through her back, arching against him to feel more.

That’s when her leg stumbled back and she felt a hardened bulge press against her rear.

The tiniest amount of friction that must have put against him caused him to growl, his fingernails digging into the flesh of her stomach as his hands started to explore under her shirt.

She inhaled sharply.

And her hand flew to her wand, tucked haphazardly in her waistband, directing it towards the Undercrofts entrance.

“Colloportus” she whimpered and the light at the tip of her wand fizzled out.

Ominis’ tore himself from her neck with a groan.

“What are you doing?” He asked but his voice was heavy, husky, heady.

“I’m not having a repeat of last time…” she murmured, staring at her wand in confusion. She shook her wrist and tried again…

…as Ominis’ hand drifted lower, his fingertips delving just under her waistband.

“Collo-portus” she gasped once again the spell failing as she muttered the incantation incorrectly.

Ominis just laughed besides her ear.

“Am I rendering you speechless? Powerless?” He purred, his other hand wrapping around her.

That hand hadn’t yet touched her skin. It had remained somewhat reserved, tugging at her clothes. So when it graced the skin of her chest it was significantly cooler than his other, forcing a gasp from her lips and her skin to pucker and tingle with goosebumps.

“You’re…” she started with a flash of venom in her voice, wanting to be frustrated at him. “…just stop a second. Let me lock the gates…” she breathed.

He chuckled darkly and removed his hands from her holding them up in surrender.

“Apologies, my love.”

“You’re not sorry…” she muttered and shrugged her blouse back over her shoulder, approaching the gate with a death glare.

She tried several times to lock the gates to no avail. Her hands kept shaking, her voice breaking. And just as she was about to give up and do it the ‘old fashioned muggle way’, the mechanisms in the gate forced themselves closed with a heavy ‘clunk’.

When she turned, Ominis was sat casually in his armchair, wand extended to the gate with a smarmy grin on his lips.

She approached once again muttering under her breath.

“Shut up…”

“Oh don’t be like that…” he crooned smoothly “…I like that I’ve affected you in such a way.”

His wand twirled between his fingers as she approached and she stood before him, pouting rather obviously. He simply chuckled and tapped his lap.

“Sit…”

His commanding tone sent a shiver up her spine and her knees buckled, bending to perch upon his thigh, despite her bratty and frustrated disposition.

His arm snaked around her waist and he pulled her back again, flush to his chest. His other hand lifted her knee to rest upon his, repeating the process for her other leg as he slipped it over his own.

Then as he spread his own legs, pulling and parting her along too, a startled little mewl left her.

“Tell me to stop…” he whispered against her ear, his hand stilling against her waist

“I don’t want you to…” she breathed shakily, arching into him and once again feeling that pulsing heat pressing into her.

“You’re shaking…” he stated as though it were a reason for him to cease his tormenting.

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing”

“Oh I know…” he smirked against her neck. “…I just wanted to hear you admit it”

He knew he was probably being overconfident. But that’s what Ominis did best. He was blessed with a silver tongue and so he would use it.

So far it was working.

Each gruff grumble from his lips sent a wave of goosebumps over her skin, and his fingers followed.

She shivered and this time they prickled along her stomach where his fingers lay dormant. It shot a pulse through him, his fingers twitching back to life to explore her.

Feel her.

He was learning so much.

He already knew about the scar across her waist, he thought perhaps she would flinch when his digits brushed across them but…she was moaning again.

Her marred skin was…sensitive.

So very…very sensitive.

Then he recalled she had another. Another Sebastian had given her deep in that Scriptorium across her heart.

What a perfect excuse to test his hypothesis.

He bought his hand up and over her clothed breasts, that simple act itself causing her to shudder and whine.

So what would happen if I did this?

His middle finger traced over the swirling pattern at her chest and once again a wave of goosebumps puckered beneath him.

For a second, he almost regretted asking her to be more vocal.

Her constant shallow breath filled his ears. Her soft sighs, and whimpers were more distracting than he assumed they would be

But, oh, how those noises were heavenly.

And thankfully, he found his body acting on instinct, no matter how distracting she had become.

His hands roamed, explored, squeezed, touched…delving to places he had never dreamed of finding on her.

Mapping curves and valleys of hers he’d only ever fantasised about.

When his fingers breached the soft lacey material of her bralette, she stayed silent.

She bit into her bottom lip to try and ease her need for him. Because this was too much. How had he not even touched her and yet she was a pooled and sodden mess.

Ominis mistook her silence for displeasure, and moved further in.

The books certainly hadn’t covered this. The few points of research detailed many erogenous zones across a woman. And though he wasn’t idiotic enough to think all women were the same, most books, most erotic novels he had read said the same.

So, purely for academic purposes, he gripped her just a little bit harder.

And was rewarded with the most beautiful and sinful whimper he had heard. With that very moan came another wave of goosebumps that he greedily followed. Like her very skin was speaking to him.

Ominis squeezed again, the soft flesh of her breast spilling out between his fingers as her manhandled her in the very best of ways.

He kneaded her, much for his own pleasure as for hers, and when he felt the tiny puckered nub between his fingers, he squeezed again.

Another sharp whine pulled from Evelyn’s chest. He felt it vibrate along her chest and for a second he was enthralled.

He copied that same action, kneading and squeezing and stroking, pinching her hardening peak near his knuckle.

Only his other hand reached up to her chest. Where he’d felt that vibration.

And with every gasp and murmur and coo he felt it.

So he chased it, rumbling up her chest to her neck where it was strongest before it left her lips.

“Ominis…” she muttered as her head rolled back onto his shoulder.

“I can move my hand if you want…” he spoke, somewhat strained after he realised his fingers wrapped around her throat.

“I…like it” she whispered, somewhat shamefully.

But Ominis was well past the point of caring. He’d built such a strong image in his head of her splayed across him, keening and mewling for more. For him.

And he had the luxury of hearing, truly hearing, everything he was doing to her. Perhaps he was better off…

His fingers tightened only slightly against her throat, feeling for each rumble of a moan his other hand was causing her.

Then his mouth followed in his hands stead.

Nipping, sucking, tasting every inch of her neck that he could access, the soft and gentle tugging of her flesh turned her to putty in his arms.

It was almost like he’d caught a nerve and her whole body squirmed with a moan. And she pressed deliciously against the painful throbbing in his groin.

He hissed at the sensation, both foreign and familiar to him.

And in that moment he realised she was learning just as much about him as he was her.

Because she did it again.

On purpose.

And as he gasped, he relinquished the hold his teeth had on her shoulder, panting against the wet skin of her neck.

So she did it again, rubbing herself across the length that was forced down his trouser leg, thanking every god there was that multiple layers of clothing were between them. Lest she be confronted with the slick she most definitely would leave upon his leg.

He gasped again, croakier and huskier than before.

And she laughed. A low seductive little laugh that triggered something in Ominis.

“Show me…” he demanded with a growl, snatching her wrist up and dragging it to her opened legs.

Perhaps she was a little too eager. He’d spent the past…Merlin knows how long, teasing her and her body ached. Her stomach had twisted and tightened with a desire she’d never felt before. Even when she was alone.

So she fumbled with his hand in hers, his other still tweaking and kneading at her soft mounds.

He ghosted over hers, softly, delicately copying her movements as she pulled her underwear to the side.

Then his hand left, straying to the fabric of her skirt, bunched around her hips.

“This is long enough, isn’t it?” He inquired flatly.

“Er…it’s comes to my knee why do you-“

Then he tore into her underwear, ripping along the gusset and exposing her completely. Whether he knew it or not, his knuckle dragged over her centre as he did and she twitched at the new feeling of someone else touching her so intimately.

“This will be hard enough without things getting in the way” his voice resonated from behind her, his chest vibrating against her back.

That was…understandable. And she would be lying to herself if the act of Ominis ripping her underwear from her didn’t turn her into a living puddle.

And it was getting ridiculous how long this had gone on for. So she snatched his hand from the hem of her skirt and positioned him over her again.

His hand mirrored hers the whole way. Like there was a second delay to everything she was doing.

Though when her finger dipped between her folds, and his shortly followed, he snatched his hand away in an instant, bolting straight upright. His finger and thumb rubbed together feeling her slick desire on his finger and his breath caught in his throat.

“You’re…” he held a note on his throat like he couldn’t think of the correct word. The appropriate word.

“…so…” he gulped and swallowed thickly, the bob of his throat brushing against her shoulder

“…wet…”

And whilst he was struggling to think of words, Evelyn was struggling to not run her finger along herself like she knew she liked.

“For you…” she murmured on an exhale.

Ominis could feel himself twitching against her rear and again something snapped within him.

His arm scooped her up around her waist, pulling her closer and tighter to his chest.

“Show me…” he growled once more in her ear before his teeth attacked her neck once again.

His finger ghosted over hers again, shaking as they dipped into that pooling well of want.

Her fingers twitched back into action, immediately finding that bundle of nerves at the top that made her toes curl.

And made Ominis’ head spin.

Whether it was his hearing, how well they knew each other, or how quickly he picked things up when explained properly, he didn’t know. But soon he got the idea of what she wanted. And she was going too quickly for his liking.

He could feel her winding and coiling like a spring in his lap, her panting little breaths filling the air and his name tumbling from her lips. She writhed and whimpered on top of him.

Then suddenly his mind filled with fabrications of himself being deep inside of her, those same noises tumbling from her. That’s same warmth he could feel radiating on his finger, surrounding him. And his brain went foggy and instinct kicked in again.

Just as she reached and clambered for that peak.

And her thighs clamped closed for that little friction she knew would push her over the edge.

He ruined it.

All at once it was torn from her as long boney fingers dug into the softness of her thighs, pinning her eager hand to the side and spreading her legs once again.

She could’ve killed him.

“Keep. Them. Open.” he spat through his teeth, moving his leg to pin her ankles behind his calves. She gave a few tester pulls, desperate for any form of friction as she felt that heat slowly dying between her legs.

She couldn’t move.

And her breath stuttered and whimpered needily. She was about to cuss him, turning and demanding he continue before that knot tied itself back up again.

But Ominis had other ideas. Ideas that perhaps right now she wouldn’t appreciate but future her would.

His fingers trailed over her core mapping every fold and divot. Easily. He slid in between over and over, delighting in every time his finger circled that nub that sent her shivering.

Then his finger slipped down, deep, entering her slowly. Carefully.

He almost felt bad for a second. The noise that left her. It sounded pained. But he pulled from her and that same needy mewling spilled from her until he did it again, her back arching into him. And this time it wasn’t so pained, more of an anguished sigh of relief.

It was…delicious.

Every sinful sound from her lips and each soaked ripple between her legs. He was simply exploring yet to her it was everything.

Him feeling her

Him pleasuring her

Him filling her.

With each pump of his finger she felt that knot loosening once more and when his other hand joined his first, rolling tiny circles over her most sensitive spot…she halted.

She became undone.

That release so close to being hers.

And he knew it.

“Let me see…” he begged, his hand pulling from her and hovering just in front of her face, his thumb replacing his own absence with dexterous accuracy.

She pushed into his hand, not trusting her vocal cords to maintain a readable level. Imagine the Undercroft being discovered after centuries because she had moaned too loudly.

His fingers drifted over her features, taking in the small knot of exquisite ecstasy on her brow. The heat from her cheeks. Her swollen, plump lips from her own teeth.

And as his finger ghosted her lips she took it into her mouth, tasting her own desire faintly on his finger. Not that, that’s why. She just needed something to mute her…

Practically crying into his ear, her head lulled back as she mumbled his name through her own teeth clamped around his fingers.

A comfortable warm silence fell over them as she slowly recovered, the white spots of her vision fading. Only then was she aware of the gentle kisses he placed along her neck.

“Why…” she panted “…are you so good at everything you choose to do?”

He chuckled, deep and low.

“I had an excellent albeit impatient teacher”

Masterlist

genuinely if any of you have any tips or anything please tell me this genuine pained me to write but im proud my first smut

[oh-gh0st]

ok i need to write out the isolation after choro confession i am spitballing thoughts and they need to be out NOW!!!

so to start: choromatsu confesses to ghost after theyve finished their shift at the library and are walking nearby the riverbank

he goes on about how much he's appreciated them since theyve met and that he wants to pursue something more with them, blah blah "i-i love you!" yes. OKKK

imagine ghost feeling like glass and getting hit with a massive sledge hammer at that moment. they were always the one to say i love you, and rarely ever got confessed to about it when they were a little bit younger. and everything just stops in them like you could almost swear their heart stopped

they get physically sick and nauseous after hearing that. and almost had to lean over the bank just in case if they did get sick. ghost is silent for a LOOONNGGG while and choro gets stupid fucking anxious cause this is technically his first confession. they hate it, he tells himself, they really hate it!

imagine his disappointment when ghost tells him to wait a while before they give him an answer...

sooo atp methinks ghost wouldve gotten choro a phone... and ever since that day ghost has been Holed up at their condo and has refused to come out unless absolutely necessary (eg work or groceries) and it only spirals from there. even if choro tried looking into their condo from afar all the blinds are shut and windows closed... he cant see a thing, and he's starting to get worried.

like he is constantly trying to reach them everyday on his phone to no avail. the only thing that keeps him going is the "read" caption that he sees on texts at times. at least theyre alive...?

he doesnt know why ghost is doing this, but they do. theyve noticed him getting closer to them, and all the little things that he's been doing is making their heart hurt. they can't go through heartbreak again, they cant !

they absolutely refuse to believe choro is in love with them. or someone like them. sure, theyve teased him or flirted with him, but that was all in good fun, right?! right...? come 2 weeks after that day and ghost wakes up in their bed, tired and absolutely understimulated and weak. they dont want to get up again, but they have to. the birds need to be fed. dishes still have to be done. laundry... shower... have they changed clothes recently? they cant even remember that.

it isnt until they get a singular text from choro that they snap out of their daze, looking over to their phone on the nightstand. they can see his icon, and the special nickname they gave him as his contact name. god...

its the 23rd of the month. they last talked to him over 2 weeks prior... has it been that long? not even ghost has a clue anymore

this is where the relationship picks back up again with ghost finally taking the step and texting him back. a singular "I'm sorry" is all he could ever ask for as a reply, even if it hurt him so much.

they meet up at ghost's place and go on to talk about what happened and choro learns the full extent of why ghost has been skittish around love and distances themselves from it a lot. he reassures them he wouldnt do anything like that, and if he were to they have all rights to beat the shit out of him for it (his words not mine) and choro finally gets to see the more vulnerable side of ghost. its hard for them at first, but once they feel comfortable enough with him its opening floodgates from there

choro does help ghost get out of their isolative and depressive state dw ^-^ he cares way too much but its endearing to them that he would take time out of his day and worry himself over them. like wow....

[dracanianwyvern]

Okay uhm... wow there's... alot to go over with what has went down in the TPC tag...

I... really do not want to have to deal with it but since this has affected both people I follow AND the writer of a fic I enjoy... yeah no I'm addressing this bullshit.

What am I adressing? The most... recent bullshit. Yeah, it's the captain-kretsnik, cintagonisupset, prettybeegkittykat, trg-jsab-zone, and goldythehamster situation.

I am... mutuals with one of the people involved, so I believe I can have a say in this. If multiple of those involved want me to take this post down, I will. I just... want to get this bullshit off my mind.

I'll... put a cut down so you can read if you want as this will be a VERY long post most likely.

Alright welp... I'll start with my... initial reaction which... I regret.

I did not know the full extent of the situation when I did it, I thought it was only one person who had been labelled "problematic" not THREE. So I had blocked em... and sent an anon ask I fucking regret sending as it was my first 'anon hate'. I was tired at the time, and fuck if I could go back and not send it I would of.

I have since unblocked this person... no I'm not saying who but... they most likely know from one fact: I triple encrypted the message. You know who you are, I am deeply sorry I sent it you may block me I will understand.

As for my current reaction?

I... I don't know anymore. I really fucking don't.

I just wanted to enjoy my fucking time on tumblr. Yet here I am having technically contributed to drama, even if it was just one anon ask, when I didn't know the full extent.

I... I really wish none if this happened in the first place. Especially since one of my mutuals was one of the initiators of the drama.

And you know what? I've had enough of it all really. Yeah it's only been a day, but I can't stand people not respecting others. You're really going to block and call out somebody just over A FUCKING OPINION????

I shouldn't of acted, yet I had. But from now on, I refuse to partake in this drama any longer. I do have my own opinion on the shit that kickstarted it.

Tpc by DEFINITION is an au. It is not its own seperate thing, and I no longer give a singular shit if I get blocked for this. If I do? I won't fucking care. Because I am sick to death of drama to be honest.

The other two have no right to gatekeep tags over a fucking opinion, and to be fair, nobody really does.

My support in this situation went from my mutual captain-kretsnik and the other inutiator of the drama, cintagonisupset. To prettybeegkittykat, trg-jsab-zone, and goldythehamster.

I dont give a shit if I'm blocked by my mutual. I really don't.

Please, just... leave me the fuck alone for a good week or two. Good day, and I hope this blows over soon enough.

[thecoddaughter]

Lungs by F&TM as Empires S1 Characters

*disclaimer I only have watched a few perspectives so they are biased around those characters and those characters interactions and the wiki page*

*also this is a longer album than I thought, so this is a LONG post (hence collapsed post) and there are some character repeats*

Dog Days Are Over - The Ocean Queen

This song reminds me of what her mindset would be like while losing her memory

Rabbit Heart - Gem the Wizard

We’ve been over this one, there's a beautiful piece of art by @happyrome0 for the cover <3

I’m Not Calling You a Liar - The Copper King

Idk why really, kinda because of the cod alliance but befriending the twins. Not really his mindset, but what people think about him? Again, not really sure.

Howl - Shrub Berry

Her whole wolf vibe kinda falls under this song. "If you could only see the beast you made me" and "Like some child processed, the beast howls in my veins"

[note: this song immediately makes me think of Flower Husbands, but the context isn’t in this universe {“be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers’}]

Kiss With a Fist - Emperor Joey

I feel like I don’t need to explain this one… but I will with one word: Xornoth

Girl With One Eye - Dark King Sausage

Um, I am just gonna leave this quote “I took it home and watched it wither and die” and “my reputation's kinda clouded with dirt”

Drumming Song - The Codfather

I feel like it could be about the Cod constantly talking to him and his inevitable destiny, also “as the water fills my mouth, it couldn’t wash the echoes out”

Between Two Lungs - The Mezalean King and The Ocean Queen

This song gives soulmates vibes and those two are forever married in every universe (even when they aren’t)

Cosmic Love - The Mezalean King and The Ocean Queen (again...)

After the memory lose… sorry

[note: there are a lot of love songs on this album (some can be made platonic or singular) but I only ship like 3 s1 ships...)

My Boy Builds Coffins - Lady Katherine

Totally not bc I couldn’t think of any other song for her… totally… anyway next song! No but seriously, it fits her head-collector vibe a bit.

[Note 1: I was gonna make this the biggest supplier of wood but Joey is the only one who exported wood according to the wiki and the vibes didn’t fit]

[Note 2: I thought the lyrics were ‘my brother’ not ‘my boy builds’ for a good few weeks]

Hurricane Drunk - The Codfather

This is how I imagine Jimmy would’ve reacted to Scott being a part of the Wither Rose Alliance. 1. the water metaphors (which this album has a lot of!) 2. this quote "And in the crowd, I see you with someone else. I brace myself cause I know its gonna hurt but I like to think at least things can't get any worse"

Blinding - King Scott of Rivendell

He's just a guy living in the wrong time, not getting to be with the boy he loves… “no more calling like a crow, for a boy, for a body in the garden” Come on that’s flower husbands! But also his pov of the rapture is captured in this line "And I would hear the thunder and see the lightning crack and all around the world was waking, I never could go back." !!!!!

You’ve Got the Love - The Codfather

The date… “When food is gone you are my daily meal. When friends are gone, I know my savior's love is real”

Swimming - The Seablings

So this is before they remembered who they were and just that they felt like they were missing something.

Heavy in Your Arms - Count fWhip

I feel like this is what would play as fWhip found Sausage’s body in the Blood Circle and obviously blame himself… So technically it is sung from Sausage's POV. I am going to give big quotes for this one:

"And is it worth the wait, all this killing time? Are you strong enough to stand? Protecting both your heart and mine... Who is the betrayer? Who's the killer in the crowd? The one who creeps in corridors and doesn't make a sound."

"This will be my last confession 'I love you' never felt like any blessing. Whisper it is like it's a secret, only to condemn the one who hears it with a heavy heart."

[note: I wanted to say Jimmy cuz the river metaphor but as stated before there are a lot of water metaphors in this album]

Falling - Queen Pearl

The falling without fear metaphor reminds me of the Xornoth fights, but this line “This is a song for a scribbled out name and my love keeps writing again and again” reminds me of her feelings toward Sausage)

Are You Hurting the One You Love? - King Sausage

This feels just right… here are some of my favorite lines: “you say you’ve found Heaven, but you can’t find God” “bite your tongue til it tastes like blood” and “was it something you could not stop”)

Addicted to Love - Queen Pearl and King Sausage

All about Xornoth…

Pearl: “you like to think that you’re immune to this stuff. Its closer to the truth to say you can’t get enough.”

Sausage: “The lights are on, but you're not home. Your mind is not your own. Your heart sweats, your body shakes.”

Bird Song - The Codfather

This is about killing all the Cod and the Godfather head drama. Not sold on this one though, but it fits Jimmy's crazed and frantic tone when things go wrong.

[note: this song reminded me of Monster Hunter Katherine and I almost put that bc I had my seasons mixed up]

Hospital Beds - Queen Pearl and King Sausage

Oh, come on! The song is about fire and dying friends! “I did not choose him, he did not choose me. We have no chance of recovery” and “Put out the fire on us. Bring your buckets by the dozen.”

Hardest of Hearts - The Codfather and King Scott of Rivendell

This is all about love that hurts you because you are emotionally unavoidably (which is both of them). “the sweetest of words have the bitterest taste” “Darling heart I loved you from the start, but that’s no excuse for the state I’m in” and “my heart swells like the water at a wave, can’t stop myself before its too late”

[coleyo]

BITTW CHAPTER 22

Twilight soon fell upon the people, most lights were out; it was dead silent. The only one up at the time was master leonardo or so he thought.

   The man sat at the table, so much happened in just one singular day, so much that he could bearly comprehend.. Its been a wild ride ever since Mikey came along, but luckily, his appearance was a blessing in disguise. At least Sesnei Angelo got an opportunity to redeem himself.

  Suddenly, footsteps echoed throughout the halls, cauding Leonardo to sit up straight. In came Donnie, A smile plastered onto his face with his hands behind his back.

   "..What are you doing here." Growled Leo, he'd get defensive almost immediately.

  Donatello's smile would twist into a frown, he'd glare. "..Leon. you're up late."

"-I thought you were leaving.."

Leo furrowed his brows as Donnie took a seat across from him. "Pushing me away, are you? What a classical move." Leon fell silent until Donnie gave an efficient answer. "I want to see my little brother, Leo. I want to make sure he's okay."

Donnie flinched lightly as Leo stood and slammed his hands down on the table,

"You decide to walk back into his life just as he's getting better only to leave again? What a joke you are. I bet you've influenced the kid too.." "-Who, Mikey? Oh, Mikey... A sweet one, isn't he?" The man grinned.. Leo stared in disbelief before asking, ".. How long have you two been interacting.." "Oh, I don't know Leo.. a few weeks? A month? Heck, even more.. not to long ago we said our goodbyes to big mama.." Leo froze; his expression softened shortly after. Donnie slowly rose from his position..

"You knew we were alive Leo. Why did you lie. Do you know how hurt our.. dear brother be if he figured out you've lied? How hurt would he be if he knew that we were alive, but you... Oh, you. You were selfish. You wanted Angelo to stay unhappy.." "N-no, that's not what i--" "Mikey told me how bad his state was at the time, he was hurting and what did you do? NOTHING." "..Thats not true, I tried to help--" "-Hah! As if." Donnie smiled with glee. "EIGHTEEN YEARS OF ANGELOS LIFE WAS WASTED BECAUSE OF YOU--" "-And thirty nine with you. You were never there for him.."

Silence lingered between the Brothers until Donnie spoke.. "I will be in my old lab, making a new limb for Angelo.. it won't be long.. a few hours. All night maybe."

  Donnie eyed Leo up and down, "-Or more.." he sighed before begining to walk off, before suddenly pausing.

"We used to be close, you and I.. maybe, Just maybe.. if you would think about how Angelo, our baby brother felt, just for once, we could be a family.. or atleast half of a family. Me, you, Casey, Angelo... Mikey."

With that's said, Donnie walked off.. there Leo stood, holding back tears. Maybe he had to tell Angelo the truth.. it would hurt less. It would benefit everyone. The ninja sighed, figuring it was time to head to bed.. today was exhausting.

7:00 AM

   Michealangelo winced as the sunlight hit his face, he would cover his eyes with a groan before sitting up properly. Their mask was almost undone, they looked like a mess. The boy yawned and stretched a bit before tidying up.. they couldn't remember what happened after leaving Mondo that night, and it felt horrible. "Why the hell would I do that.. I keep leading him on, make up your mind Mikey!" He spoke softly, tugging at the end of his masks. "..Okay, okay.. Or-- ugh!" He'd whine, sitting up and adjusting his bows..

"..How is Sensei doing.."

The mutant wondered aloud, leaving The room shortly after. Casey was, probably training with master Leonardo again-- or, atleast that's what Mikey thought.

    The ninja entered the clinic, and to his surprise, sensei Angelo was doing well..

  "Sesnei!" Called the boy, catching the others attention. "Good morning, Mikey. How was your rest?" "It was great dude! Im super ready for train--...ing... Oh.. right, hah.. sorry." Angelo flashed a smile before Mikey spoke, "Feelin' any better?" "I don't feel much of anything, really. Sure, certain arm movement's hurt but it's whatever." "Thats amazing!.. er-- the first time we met-- I thought it was so cool that you could make portals and--" "-So you still want to learn how to make them?" "..Kind of. But after seeing what happened to you I'm not too sure if I want to anymore.."

"Thats understandable. I really didn't want to make portals myself either, I always feared my own power, never knew how to manage it. but now.. nothing's really changed." "I mean.. at least you have some control?"

"..yeah.. you're right.." the mutant smiled.. "..what happened with you and mondo last night?" "..Wait what!?" Mikey was taken aback, how could he know!?

"Apparently hugging and muninn were sneakin' around. They put lots of detail into their story.." Angelo said with a hint of concern, Mikey's face reddened as he laughed, "It- it was nothing hah! Just -- best friends activities yo'! Nothin' more dude." "Right. Y'know, if you want advice on couples and stuff--" "-We aren't a couple!" Mikey interrupted, this was extremely embarrassing.. "Well-- I dunno, I kind of want to say yes but at the same time-- I'm not sure dude, I can't leave him hangin' like that all the time! You have to help me, I'm sure you've had some-- similar problem!"  "Well.." Angelo trailed off before the door suddenly opened, causing the two to end their conversation. It was Leo!..and.. Donnie? The purple one held a bag in hand.

  "Dee'!" Mikey chirped, while Angelo stared in disbelief. "I-..Donnie?" The mutant mumbled, "..Are you feeling better, Miguel..?" Angelo held back tears and smiled, nodding eagerly. "..i- I thought you died.. I mean-- I was begining to think--" "Its okay now, Angelo.." "..A- are you leaving again.." "..Not quite." Donnie smirked before looking down at the object held. "Oh and!-- about your leg.. I kind of made a replacement for it.. you like robotic parts?" The older one teased, Mikey's eyes lit up. "Robotic parts?" He chimed in, peaking over donatellos shoulder.

"..That was fast." Angelo sat up as donnie pulled out the supply, begining to alter his brother. "Oh and Leo , about your arm, I.. kind of made something for you too. You're welcome. I'll work on you afterwards." Donnie gave a half smile. Leo sighs, "..Thank you?"

As the adults engaged in conversation, well, mainly Donnie and Angelo, Mikey snuck out of the room and made his way down the hall to find mondo,,

Maybe Mikey did make up his mind..

In the matter of seconds Mikey would spot mondo in the main room, sitting at a table and stroking mayhems fur lightly. Nobody else was in sight.. Mikey clenched his fist and sighed, before hesitantly approaching the gecko.

"Hey, mondo!.." Mikey put on a smile and sat next to the boy, mondo perked his head up and gave a smile back. "Hey Mike'..." Mondo muttered, devastating silence lingered between the two. They had everything, yet nothing to say to each other. "Mondo, I was thinking about what you said last night, and.. I don't want to leave you hanging anymore, I don't want to keep leading you on by being so.. I don't know, stubborn?" "What are you tryna' say?" The mutant said, resting his hand on mayhems back. "..Despite everything that's going on right now, I.. would..maybe use.. somebody to comfort me right now, i- want to be.. together? Maybe? Finally?.." Mikey tried to avoid eye contact, but that didn't work out too well . Mayhem let out a displeased noise, then up and left. Mondo stared at Mikey, processing what he just said "-You.. you're not-- unsure this time?" "I'm not unsure, I'm positive, but.. scared.." a smile appeared on mondos face as Mikey sat closer. ".. So you're my boyfriend huh?" "..Mhm.. I- I mean I kind of like the term girlfriend but-- either or is fine, I don't really care!

Mondo chuckled and held Mikey's hand tightly, "This is really cheesy but.. you're all I ever wanted, Mikey.." mondo smiled, hugging him tightly. Mikey melted into his touch once more and let out a relaxed sigh, "Thats all I wanted to hear, dude.."

The two sat in the comforting silence before they heard a sudden crash, a scream followed shortly after.

"YOU KNEW!?" Sensei Angelo shouted, walking up to Leo with an angered expression. Their attention locked onto them as mondo let go, they glanced at one another before jumping up, "Sensei!" Mikey shouts, "dude, what the matter!"

Donnie followed Angelo from behind, in an attempt to calm him down.. "YOU-- YOU LIED TO ME!" tears of gold pricked at the corners of angelos eyes as he clenched his fist, "I would've told you sooner! I- I couldn't --" "-W- WHY!? y-...you knew Donnie was alive and you kept him and big mama AWAY from me? Do you KNOW how much I've suffered because of you?" The man scolded, his tail swaying back and forth vigorously, hatred filled his heart. "I thought it would keep you safe damn it, I never meant to hurt you.."

"I would've done Anything Donnie asked of me, he is my brother, and you're telling me, all of these years.. all of these years I've spent crying and BLAMING myself for our fathers death, donnies disappearance, I.. Could've been.. happy?" Angelo paused before gritting his teeth together, "i HATE you.. now, big mama, the only one who really comforted me, is gone, because you kept them away from me and told me that they were Dead?.. what is wrong with you.." "..Angelo, please." Donnie placed a hand on his shoulder, he was scolding hot.. Donnie pulled away and grumbled. "I'm so sorry, I never meant for any of this to happen.." said leon.. Angelo let out a frusterated growl before raising his hand, but suddenly, was stopped.

"..Sensei?" Mikey tugged at his arm, a frown on his face. "..Pa'..? What happened.." "..What.." Angelo would suddenly pause.. "I-- damn it." Angelo pulled away, as mikey hugged him tightly. "-I- it's okay! You're okay.."

Donnie and Leo glanced at one another, Donnie felt pity for Angelo, but Leo.. oh, Leo. He felt horrible.. maybe he was a bad brother.. after all, it was his fault raph died..

"..Sorry.." Angelo pulled away from Mikey. "Its fine sensei.. hey, instead of sensei, is Pa' okay?" "..Sure, 'kid."

Mikey decided to take Angelo away from this drama, mondo followed after..

Hopefully some friendships.. or family issues could be repaired

"He's strong enough.. quite the fighter. You have until tomorrow to bring him. Understood?"

"Yes 'sir. We will not disappoint.."

[fromthedeskofmuffin]

Lost: Cat, Gem in Forehead: Chapter 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

"Prithani, would you come here a moment? I need to tell you something." Maya sat at the dining room table, with a mug of tea. Another mug sat on the table in front of Prithani's usual seat.

Five and a half years had passed since she found him in the desert, and he was now a handsome and charismatic young man. He entered the dining room, and took his seat. The look on Maya's face concerned him. "Maya, what is wrong?"

Maya looked into Prithani's eyes, her face solemn. She had agonized over this decision for a week, afraid of what he might think. "I wanted to keep this from you, but there is a part of my past that I now must share. ...I used to be part of a secret order, as part of the inner council. The Allegiance of the Nine Daggers. We would also have been known as assassins." She paused, and watched Prithani to see how he would react.

His eyes widened, and his face flickered through a range of emotions. He didn't know how to react at all. Prithani had come to love Maya as a son loves a mother. Assassins were killers, weren't they? He had heard stories of people who killed important leaders in Tameu and vanished without a trace. But she said used to be. For how long? Did she kill a lot of people? Could he even ask that? Finally, he found his voice. "Why... are you telling me this?"

Maya took a deep breath, then sighed. She looked tired. "One day, I believe you will leave this house and this town, and I wish to ensure you will be safe on your own. There is something you must understand, first. The Allegiance were not hired killers. We were a society that tried to guide Tameu towards unity, but would use any tactic available to us. Assassination was not a first resort, but it was a necessary tool sometimes. For the most part, we attempted to guide rulers, or sometimes put our own in place. We worked in darkness. However, there was a schism. I and a few others of the council left. I do not know what they do now, but old friends still tell me things."

Prithani looked more thoughtful now. This was something he had never heard about, at least in the small bubble of his life up to now. He rather expected this wasn't something even very well learned people knew about either. "Then... so... what did you do in this society?"

Maya sipped her tea, and stared at it. "As I said, I was one of its' council members. One of the people who would direct members, train new ones. Sometimes, I advised Nomarchs. If a new direction or course of action needed to be taken, the council would vote, and the order would follow that decision. There are many in the shadows, literally and metaphorically, aiding the cause, and it can be hard to keep track of them all, but for the most part, everyone moves towards that singular goal of unity."

"Did you... ever kill anyone?" Prithani asked, quietly.

The mug made a soft thump as it was set on the table, and Maya looked into Prithani's eyes. "Yes. I did it well, and quickly, and I was never seen. Three people. I do not wish to discuss this particular line of questioning further." Her face was serious as she spoke. "It was necessary. That is all I will tell you. Killing should never be taken lightly, and only done in the most extreme circumstances."

Prithani nodded. He was doing his best to meet Maya's steady gaze, but he could feel her eyes boring through his skull, as if she was making sure the information was being filed correctly. He knew better than to ask who she had killed. "Then... I am sorry, but I still do not understand why you are telling me this."

"Because I am going to train you," Maya replied. "You will learn the way of the Assassin, but you will not join the Allegiance. It is not the right life for you."

"Then why should I learn to be an Assassin?" Prithani asked.

"Tameu is dangerous," Maya said, gripping her mug tightly, "As I said, someday, you will leave, and with this training, I can ensure your safety."

Prithani looked at Maya in hurt confusion. "Why are you so sure that I will leave here?"

"It is the way of young people," she said, unwilling to tell him the true reason, "I am sure when you are older, you will want to find your own way, and share your music with many others."

Prithani considered this. Maya was probably right, as usual. He didn't want to leave her at the moment, but he occasionally wondered where he came from, or what was beyond the sands that surrounded their home. "What is this training like?"

Maya nodded, pleased that she seemed to be getting through to him. "You will learn stealth, how to lie to further your goals, as well as our ethics and philosophy. Finally, you will learn how to end fights quickly."

"Do you not mean how to fight?" Prithani asked, confused.

"No. I do not," Maya said sharply, shaking her head, "Fighting, and ending a fight quickly, are very different. You do not want a fight to last more than a few seconds, because the longer it goes, the more likely you are to lose. It must be quick, and merciless. However, ending a fight quickly does not mean killing. There are many ways to incapacitate a foe. You should also learn when to run away. This can also end a fight quickly. To fight is always a last resort, and to kill should be if there are no other options. Do you understand?"

Prithani nodded. "Yes, Maya."

"Good," Maya said, mollified. "We will begin tomorrow. For now, dinner will be ready in two hours. Do not be late."

The next few months were the start of a regimen quite unfamiliar to Prithani's more sedentary lifestyle. Morning stretches preceded calisthenics, and then a series of balance exercises. They would discuss philosophy and ethics in between each activity, along with the art of espionage, concealing emotion and telling convincing lies, including court manners. Afterwards came light sparring, which frequently stopped in order to correct an incorrect stance or clumsy movement. Sparring was perhaps the wrong word for it. Maya taught a series of movements to "end fights quickly". There were a number of grabs, throws, and strikes that she taught Prithani for any situation. For the next few weeks, his whole body ached as it got used to this punishment.

"Now, one of your most important weapons, Prithani, is your head." They were resting in the shade after Prithani had been getting thrown into the sand for about an hour. The sun hung in the cloudless sky, but there was a light breeze dancing through their fur.

"Yes, I know, Maya, I need to read my opponent properly before trying to strike." He felt bruises all over. The sand was soft, but Maya's arms and legs were like iron bars.

"No, mera baccha, your head." Maya lifted one finger, and poked the gem in Prithani's forehead, which made him flinch, then touched her own. "This is a secret weapon. One that not all Tameui have. Every Tameui has claws and fangs, but not every Tameui has a gem. Even so, not every Tameui with a gem knows they can use it in this way. To strike with the head is unexpected, faster than a limb, and your gem will focus the power to its' tip. Shāh Māt."

Light dawned in Prithani's eyes as he realized what she meant. "I never thought of that! Can you teach me?"

Maya smiled as she nodded. "Of course, but you must not use it in our contests, as it can easily break bone if done correctly. I will teach you the proper movements, and you will practice on inanimate objects."

Prithani nodded obediently, his eyes glittering with new possibility.

Head strikes became a part of the daily routine. Maya showed him that striking the soft tissue of the nose or mouth with his head was the best use of this strike, as it would stun, or knock an opponent out quickly. She also showed him proper form, as it would always hurt to headbutt someone, but you could minimize that self inflicted pain. When Prithani asked why they weren't practicing with magic, Maya reminded him that magic was how most Tameui fought. An Assassin must take every advantage they have to end a fight quickly, and being trained in hand to hand combat when your opponent was not, was a big advantage.

After half a year of hard work, Maya began to implement climbing and stealth into the regimen. First, scaling trees, then her own house, all without creating noise. She taught him to walk carefully, how to use color (not black, never black) to hide in shadow, and to use noise to mask quick movement. They even played a sort of hide-and-seek, to train his senses. Maya would hide somewhere, and Prithani would have to point out where she was, as he detected subtle wrongness in the area. Once he understood the basics, they moved to climbing around the rooftops of the town at night. Prithani enjoyed these nights the most. The night air, the stars in the sky, and the knowledge that no one else knew that the two of them were up above their heads. People, on the whole, do not look up, Maya told him.

It was now ten years since Maya had brought the thin and exhausted boy to her home. Their hide-and-seek had become more impromptu. Sometimes Maya would try to surprise Prithani, sometimes the other way around, by one pouncing on the other. Prithani had only managed to get her one time, but Maya assured him that he was doing quite well. She just had forty years of experience on him.

Prithani and Maya still trained every day, and Prithani even won some of their bouts.  They sometimes used training daggers now, as Maya knew, one day he would sadly need the knowledge. Combining the fist and the dagger enables a speed and flow of movement that many opponents cannot deal with. However, she drilled into his head that he should never be the first to draw. To draw a blade is to escalate a conflict, and would needlessly endanger him. Daggers were quick. If his opponent were to draw a sword, he could draw faster, and End the Fight Quickly.

A few years ago, they had heard news of a new Nomarch. Zuri, Guardian of the Southern Ruins, had accepted the throne from her grandmother, Ruwa. Prithani did not understand the troubled look Maya had when she heard the news, and when he pressed her for an explanation, she would not answer. Now, news of Kazrah's invasions were now reaching even their small town, but he had still not attacked Ankho. Prithani didn't seem worried by it, assuming that their small town wasn't important enough, but Maya worried that it would come any day now. She had been hearing rumors of an old friend for the past few months, and decided that now was the time.

Maya found Prithani outside, in the shade of the house. Like any day with a little time for himself, he played the oud. He had grown to be very handsome, and good with words. His voice was rich and resonant, like the instrument he played every day. He would be perfect for what she had planned. They had even managed to curb his humming, at least a bit. "Mera baccha, I have something for you."

Prithani stopped playing, and looked up at Maya. He gave her a wide grin. "Is it another thrashing?"

"It will be, if you keep on making jokes." Maya's mock fierce expression made Prithani laugh. She would miss his laugh, deep and bright, it filled any space he was in. Her face softened. "No, Prithani, it is a letter. I have been hearing that the Nomarch of Nehra has been looking for talented musicians, and I would like you to travel there. Your music is too beautiful for only this small town, and I believe you will serve her well." Even better than either of you know, she thought.

"You want me to go see Princess Ima?" Prithani's confused expression was plain on his face. "Do I not have more to learn?"

Maya shook her head. "You have learned all I can teach you. I know this must feel sudden, but you can always write to me, and the sooner you get to her, the better. It is a great opportunity, and Nehra is beautiful. You are extremely capable, and have taken my lessons to heart. You are ready."

For once, Prithani couldn't decide what to say. He didn't want to leave, but he could feel wanderlust tugging at him. Over the years, he had heard stories of ancient heroes, tales of lands far away, and something in his nature dragged him to find... something. After a long time, he nodded. "If you say I am ready, then I will go."

"You are. I know it." She stared at him with misty eyes. Quickly, she rubbed at them, to avoid full tears, and turned to go inside. "Follow me, there is something you must take with you."

Prithani followed his teacher into the house, placing his oud in its case and locking it tight. Once inside, Maya presented him with an ornate wooden box, finely lacquered. "Do not open this," she instructed, as staying matter-of-fact and giving him orders was currently the only way she was holding it together, "Nor will you open the letter. They are both sealed, and must stay this way, as they are for Princess Ima. Do you understand?"

Prithani nodded dutifully. "Yes, Maya."

"Good." Maya placed the box and letter inside a sack, and placed them on the table. "Now, I have made preparations for you. There is a caravan leaving tomorrow for Nehra. You are to go with them, only as a passenger. If trouble arises, they should have plenty of guards, you need not assist. Do you understand?"

Prithani fidgeted, then nodded again. He wanted to use the skills he had learned, but Maya's word was law. "Yes, Maya."

"Good!" Suddenly, Maya couldn't think of anything else. She could feel a lump rising in her throat. Her voice began to grow hoarse. "Now... Now I suppose we should head to town. We must celebrate your last day here, and your friends w-will miss you." Damn it all, she could feel her lower lip quivering, and her tail was twitching back and forth.

"Maya? ...Are you okay?" Prithani asked, starting to become anxious. He had never seen his teacher like this in all his ten years here.

Without warning, she threw her arms around Prithani, hugging him so tightly he was sure he could feels ribs cracking. He could feel her shaking, and he realized that Maya was crying. He wrapped his arms around her as well, holding her close as he felt hot tears pour down his own cheeks. "I w-will write, I promise. Every day."

"I am sorry, P-Prithani... I am s-so sorry..."

The words were almost too quiet for him to hear, but he squeezed her tighter. "You have nothing to apologize for. Thank you, Maya, for everything. I owe you my life."

The pair stayed this way for a long time. When they finally managed to pull apart, staring at each other, they each felt dehydrated. They both looked like a mess. Maya's makeup had run, and Prithani's face fur was matted with dried tears. Realizing that they both must look ridiculous, the two persians burst out laughing, hugging tightly one more time before separating. Each wore huge grins as they stared at each other.

Maya was the first to speak. "You must be sure to write! I have to know what my Prithani is doing in beautiful Nehra! It does not have to be every day, but do write to me. You will also take my dagger. Remember me by it." She unhooked her dagger from her belt, and handed it to Prithani. He took it with great care, and drew it, inspecting the blade. The handle was a work of art, but fit perfectly in the palm, and almost felt as an extension of the hand. The blade shined brightly in the light, with a slightly different hue to other steel he had seen, but it was simple, as it had one purpose. Prithani could feel the weight of Maya's history within it.

Prithani nodded and sheathed the dagger again, smiling as Maya wiped tears from his eyes. "I could never forget you, Maya. You are the only mother I have known. I will make you proud."

"I know you will, mera baccha. My child. My life. Now go clean up, and get your cloak on. Let us tell everyone the news."

Two cloaked and hooded figures strode across the sands towards the town. One leaned against the other as they laughed and joked. This would be their last night together for longer than either of them would know. They made it count.

The End

[burningdarkfire]

yet another writing ask: 4, 8, 10, 19, 33, 36, and 39!

you have sent me an absolute feast, thank you!!

(send me another writing ask!)

4. Do you have any OCs? Do you have a story for them?

yes! they tend to be tied to games/worlds rather than specific storylines - for example, a bunch of my favourite OCs in the past few years have been NPCs that i've played as DM in my dnd campaigns. i have a handful of original worlds too :)

8. How slow is a slow burn?

as slow as one prefers, really, though i admit i prefer them pretty fast! i tend to like characters who know what they want and are willing to take the initiative, but there are also very specific flavours of yearning that i find delicious and when they're done well, they can really hit

10. Top three favourite fic tropes

i love a good hurt/comfort, i definitely think catharsis is something i'm always looking for in fic. i like pretty much any sort of situation that can lead to a "dubious consent" tag, because those are always interesting (and/or hot) to explore. and i absolutely adore vampire/werewolf AUs and i am not sorry about it

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.

"Has Wulf found the body?"

"No." Body, singular. Things were more dire than they thought. "How many got away?"

"None," Astrid said grimly. "But that is already enough."

Essek blinked. The room felt small. "When they do not report back, somebody will know you're alive."

She stared at him for a moment, as if suddenly seeing him again for the first time. "Why are you sitting here? He could have left a cat. A dozen cats."

"I'm sure he did." They had a habit of appearing out of the shadows. Essek put the book aside. "Will you call Eadwulf back?"

"He's not a dog," Astrid said, and she laid back down.

Essek could think of nothing else to say. After a few minutes, even to his carefully disinterested eye, Astrid seemed to be perfectly asleep.

33. Give your writing a compliment.

no one is as good as i am at writing the way i do! it's something i've been talking over a lot with a friend recently, and it's a driving philosophy behind my enjoyment of writing. it's so satisfying to make something and know that i was the only person who could have made it as such

36. How do you come up with fic titles? What’s the one you’re most proud of?

fic titles were one of my great projects of 2023 (and are still, if only i actually posted anything) because tbh my writing is cluttered with half-assed titles taken from songs and poems that i can't even differentiate myself. i've read a lot of poetry in the past year with the idea that it could help me; realistically, i just lie around for weeks after finishing a fic moaning about thinking of a title while everyone else is like "okay, yes, but we want to read it though"

honey melt might win the accolade because it's the only title i can think of that i actually like that isn't derivative 😭

39. Wildest AU scenario you have written?

i mean. listen. you know what it is. it's like 90k published words long (not all of which are mine anymore!) and i still barely understand why i did it. i don't write particularly wild AUs in the first place so its very existence is what makes it insane !!

[best00hong]

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[dameronology]

the one with all the yelling {obi-wan x reader}

summary: after making a stupid decision in battle and having an argument with your best friend, a confession slips out that surprises both of you (or maybe it doesn’t)

this is a reupload bc i took it down for editing. as usual, this has lots of swearing in, just a pre-warning. enjoy!!

- jazz

They say that time slows down when you’re about to die - that your life flashes before your very eyes. You’re supposed to see the thing you love most, the people you value most. It was meant to be a final moment filled with a lifetime of emotions, of memories; regrets and mistakes; unfulfilled wishes and incomplete to do lists. The way it was described was hauntingly poetic, the sort of thing almost made you want to to experience it just so that you could understand what it felt like.

And, having witnessed a near-death experience in recent hours, you could safely conclude that everything in the aforementioned paragraph was a steaming pile of horse shit.

There was nothing graceful or cinematic about the way you had yeeted yourself across the battle-field, mud unceremoniously flying up around your ass as you kicked Obi-Wan Kenobi out of the line of fire. The blaster fire was inches away from your face - mere inches - and that, of all things, was when you figured the final moments might have come.

Instead, all you got was a hit to the shoulder and a mouth full of dirt. You were very much alive - but after coughing up an unflattering amount of earth and clambering back to your feet with all the grace of a beached whale, the same could not be said for your dignity.

At the forefront of things, you’d been trying to save your best friend’s life. That was all you could think about when you’d launched yourself discourteously towards Obi-Wan; he couldn’t die. Too many people - yourself included - needed him. And, you were certain that if you hadn’t been killed saving his ass, the sudden lack of reason from his presence in your life would have killed you anyways. The man stopped you from walking into traffic on the daily.

You weren’t entirely sure what to say to Obi-Wan. You were sitting on the end of his bed, fresh out of the shower and bundled up in an oversized tunic that belonged to the man pacing in front of you. For a man of many words, he was disturbingly quiet as he stitched you up and even more so when he helped you undress and get into the shower.

What sort of thing were you supposed to say in this situation? Sorry that I booted you up the arse and sent you flying six foot through the air? I had your best interests at heart, I promise.

‘Personally, I am rather pleased with the fact I am still alive.’ You broke the icy silence that had befallen you. Obi-Wan immediately stopped in his pacing tracks, head turning to face you with a bewildered look. Maybe that wasn’t the best conversation opener.

‘How could you…’ Obi-Wan went to say something but his words were lost. He’d witnessed you do a lot of stupid things but this one took the cake. This was stupid thing to end all stupid things. ‘Why would you - actually, I don’t even know what to say.’

‘I mean a thank you would probably suffice.’ You muttered. ‘I did just take a bullet for you.’

‘How could you have been so stupid?!’ He snapped. ‘You could have died!’

‘I was trying to save you!’ You reminded him.

Right. There was that - the alarmingly obvious thing that he’d been trying not to think about.

Obi-Wan couldn’t deny his feelings for you; you’d always been his slightly kooky best friend but maker, he adored you. Life as a Jedi could be dark but you were his nightlight - a soft glow to guide him to brighter things, to remind him that not all was lost.

He’d spent hours convincing himself that you didn’t feel the same. You were too busy running around with what Obi-Wan was certain was a singular brain cell, getting yourself into trouble and making questionable decisions. But, now that you’d quite literally thrown yourself into the line of fire for him? It was certainly a compelling piece of evidence to the contrary.

(Of course, you loved him too. You’d been in love with him since the day you’d met. That was a minor detail you’d chosen not to mention to him - avoiding the truth wasn’t the same as lying, right?)

‘I don’t need saving.’ Obi-Wan said.

‘Oh, please.’ You snorted. ‘You might be Jedi Master Kenobi of the High Jedi Council, Best Jedi To Ever Jedi and Regular Shagger of the Jedi Code-’

‘- you used the word Jedi a few too many times there-’

‘- but you are not bulletproof!’

‘Neither are you!’

‘But I’m alive, aren’t I?’ Your tone was suddenly soft. ‘I’m in one piece.’

‘Barely.’ He murmured. ‘You can’t do things like that.’

‘Well, I did.’ You would have raised your voice louder had your shoulder not been screaming in pain. ‘And stomping around like a pissy toddler isn’t going to change it.’

The most terrifying part - for both of you, truthfully speaking - was how quickly you had done it. You hadn’t even thought about it; you saw red and you launched yourself into the blaster’s path without even considering the consequences. The most important thing to you in that moment had been that Obi-Wan’s life was at risk and it had led to a sudden disregard for your own.

‘I’ll get better.’ You continued. ‘I’m only signed off for a few weeks and as soon as I’m on the mend I will be back in the field. It’ll be like nothing ever happened-’

‘- but it did happen.’ Obi-Wan cut you off. ‘I’m always going to remember that you risked your life for me without even having to think about it.’

Grabbing onto the poster of his bed, you pulled yourself up and slowly approached him. Obi-Wan almost backed away when his robe inched off your shoulders, revealing the nasty red gash just by your collarbone. The idea quickly slipped away, however, when you rested your hands on his forearms, hands slipping under his sleeves and intertwining your fingers.

‘What else would I do?’ You softly laughed. ‘It’s you, Obi.’

‘Would you have done the same for someone else?’ He asked. ‘For Anakin? Or for Ahsoka?’

You faltered slightly, grip on him loosening a tiny bit. ‘Of course.’

‘Y/N.’

‘What?’

‘Don’t lie.’ He suddenly jerked his hands away from you, spinning around on his heel so that you were suddenly facing his back.

‘Fine.’ You grumbled. ‘I would only do it for you. I would only blindly throw myself in front of a bullet for you. Not anyone else. Not a single soul. Does that make you happy? Does that inflate your ego enough, Kenobi-’

‘- that’s not what this is about.’

‘Then tell me!’ You let out a small groan of pain as you grabbed him by the material of his shirt, using every last ounce of energy to make him look at you again. ‘Tell me what it’s about because you are not making sense and I am the world’s leading expert in that field.’

‘It’s not about anything.’

‘Oh, bullshit!’ You whacked his arm, adrenaline worming its way into your tired body and finally allowing you to raise your voice. ‘I just saved your fucking life and you’re acting like a moody son of a bitch and accusing me of lying!’

‘It’s because I love you!’

‘Well, I love you too!’

‘Great!’

‘Fine!’

‘Wonderful!’

‘Brilliant!’

‘Well I’m glad we cleared that up!’

‘Me too!’

‘We should probably stop shouting!’

‘Good idea!’

You unballed your fists just in time to catch the material of Obi-Wan’s shirt as he stepped towards you, taking you by the waist and pulling you towards him. He crashed his lips into yours, knocking the air from your lungs as he did. You’d thought about kissing him many times - more than you were willing to admit, actually - but now that you were actually here, with a handle tangled in his soft hair and his warm lips moving against yours?

Nothing could have prepared you for this moment - for the declaration of love or the kiss or the way he was holding onto you, hands desperately gripping to your waist as though you were about to slip away into the darkness of the galaxy and leave him alone forever. Just a few hours ago, that had been a very real possibility.

You’d admitted to yourself earlier that you probably couldn’t have survived in a world without Obi-Wan Kenobi. Little did you know that he’d admitted to himself years before that he couldn’t have survived without you.

‘I love you.’ His words were softer now, barely a whisper against your lips as pressed his forehead to yours.

‘If I’d known that almost dying was all it took to make you tell me, I would have done it years-’

‘-Y/N.’ He groaned.

‘Sorry.’ You smiled softly. ‘I love you too.’

[bittermuire]

a nightlight and a bottle of wine

recently I’ve really loved nezriel and wanted to write a lil thing for them. this will be two parts, this is the first. modern au

---

It’s not like Nesta really knew what she was doing when she moved out. All she knows is that there is a rift between her and Feyre; a scar splitting their shared skin, a wound opening and reopening, never to heal.

And so she’s away. They’ve made their mistakes and let them be. They’ve hurt each other and even tried to love, but sisters love each other too much for love—and so she’s away. The guilt is still there, but farther from her, now. Nesta stirs it into her morning coffee and drinks the sleep, wiping it from beneath her eyes and the lines around her mouth.

Every so often Cassian will text her, inviting her out to dinner or to a work party, and Nesta resists the urge to throttle him. He’s a very smart, thirty-five year old man. He should know what cutting off someone means.

(He knows, of course he knows. She guesses he just thinks it doesn’t apply to him.)

His roguish charm, his smirk, his low voice, all inviting her to one thing—sex—was beginning to exhaust her. It’s a surprising relief to be away from him. She feels like she can wear tank tops and let her hair down and go out without a bra, relieved he won’t be there to stare.

(Was she really so afraid of him?)

So Nesta lives her life and drinks her coffee, wears her tank tops and sleeps in her underwear, finally a woman in the way she’s always wanted to be; she feels discrete from the rest of the world but in a near comforting way. She has no one to disappoint, no one to miss. Her world is confined to very few people and her mind allows for one.

•

But there are things that trip her up. Remaining ties.

One such: the nightlight clipped to her bed. It’s cheap, a gaudy silver. She’s sure Azriel bought it for no more than two dollars.

But she uses it every night.

(This trips her up.)

It’s a routine she’s given to herself, written into the margins of her life; she climbs into bed, smooths the blankets over her legs, grabs her book, opens it on her lap, then twists and switches on the light. It illuminates the page with a pretty, golden sun. She uses it religiously. She thinks that if she lost it, some intrinsic part of her might be lost as well, and this frightens her.

Remaining ties should be snipped. These last threads should be spooled up, put away, hidden in the bottom drawer.

She switches it on anyway, watches the light trace the letters.

(Sometimes she thinks she is the black stamp of letters. The utter bleakness of them on the smooth page. Sometimes she thinks she is what ruins the paper. She is what ruined the paper. There’s a reason she is here and they are there.)

•

November 19th.

Happy birthday to me.

She buys a cake from the supermarket and blows out the candle.

There’s a knock at the door, late at night. Not thinking to check, she goes to open it, and there stands Azriel, still in the doorway, bottle of wine in hand.

“Happy birthday,” he says bluntly.

She lets him in for some reason she still doesn’t understand, and they end up drinking a glass together. It’s from Cassian, the wine—his favorite. Azriel tells her that Cassian didn’t think she’d take it from him.

“So he asked you,” she says.

He smiles. “Because you like me.”

1:00 AM, and they’re still drinking. They barely talk. They just sit; they sit on the kitchen stools, then the rickety chairs, then the floor, then the couch, then back to the floor. His cheeks are pink, his words slurred.

“Why’d you come?” she asks, peering down at where he lays, splayed out, on the carpet.

(He’s not the kind for favors, she knows that.)

Opening his eyes, he fixes his gaze on her. He smiles sleepily.

“Happy birthday, Nesta.”

•

She doesn’t really celebrate for the holidays. Her apartment is bare, save a pair of twinkling bells on the kitchen counter, tied with a red ribbon. Sometimes when she’s cooking she’ll give them a little ring.

The letter comes in the mail—from Feyre, clearly put there by her own hand. It’s an invitation to dinner, for the winter solstice. They’re celebrating early this year because they’re going out of town for a few weeks.

(Please don’t feel pressured to come. We were going to leave you be but Az, since he’s so considerate, thought you might appreciate an invite.)

Nesta picks up her phone and texts Feyre a simple no thanks.

•

The next morning, she opens her door to a bottle of wine. Its neck is tied with a cherry red ribbon, and there’s a note—“If you’re ever lonely, give me a call. It’s my favorite.”

She doesn’t need to see who it’s from to know.

She smiles and picks it up, taking it inside.

•

It bites, the loneliness.

She wasn’t prepared for the quiet.

She traded in insults and jabs and sweaty hands at dinner tables for nothing, nothing, nothing. Silence in the shower, silence over breakfast. Over time, it’s begun to grate on her skin, sift between the strands of her hair, and she feels like she’s swimming a meter below the surface, ears clogged, vision blurred.

And slowly, she’s started to cry; she cries when the silence is too loud, when her aloneness is real, when she realizes the ugly truth of it all. She’s alone, she has nobody, she’s alone.

She picks up her phone and dials his number. “Let’s drink your wine.”

A small quiet. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“That wasn’t a question.”

“I know, Nesta,” he laughs. “I’ll be there.”

•

They don’t drink at all, actually. She starts crying again the minute she sees his face.

“Nesta?”

•

“I’m fine, really.”

They’re walking down the aisle of the grocery store, weeks later.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m doing better, I am.”

He shrugs. “I don’t care. Pick a flavor. We’ll eat it, we’ll watch a movie.” He looks her up and down, brow creased. “You need two things—no, make that three things.”

She huffs a laugh, sticking her hand into the freezer and pulling out a carton. “What?”

“Sleep, ice cream, and company.” He grins. “And now you’ve got me.”

“Lucky me.”

“Lucky you.”

•

He’s seen her beautiful; he’s seen her ugly. He’s seen her in her rattiest apron with flour crusted into her fingernails. He’s seen her laugh so hard she cries, watched her slam her head into an open cupboard door, driven her to the hospital when she sliced her hand open with a knife. They’re together a lot, she realizes. They’re not halves; they’re one and one, and one and one make two, and they stand as two together on sidewalks, squinting at menus in the windows of restaurants, and they pet dogs in the park (Nesta always asks, because Az gets shy), and they take walks at midnight, and they live their lives contentedly next to each other’s. She starts to wonder if he splits his life into two—into Cassian and Rhys and Mor and Feyre, and into her, the girl who walked away. She’d like to know why he followed her.

Sometimes she’ll catch herself staring. Even before Cassian, she’d thought Azriel was the most beautiful of the three; all graceful, sloping shadows, soft and deep eyes, curling black hair. Her heart doesn’t know what to do anymore. It skips a beat when she sees him, but calms when she’s near him. It races when he leans close, falls to steadiness when he slings his arm over her shoulders. She can’t decide if she loves him like this or loves him like that. He means so much to her, means so many different things, that to give him a singular word wouldn’t fit.

She calls him Azriel, Az, Steve, Steven Shadow, Mr. Shadow, Ralph, Ron, He of the Candied Pecans, You. He responds to all of it. Recently he told her that it wasn’t because of the name, but because of the voice—(of course I don’t know who Ralph is, Nesta, but your voice, it’s your voice you use for me)—and she felt warm for reasons she couldn’t understand.

She shows up unannounced at his apartment when it’s a bad night. He does the same.

•

“Tell me the truth,” she begins, tipsy. “Did you like me before?”

“What?”

“Did you like me before?”

He frowns. “Elaborate.”

“Before you learned I’m a nice person. Back at the townhouse. When I hated everyone and was rude to you.”

“Oh.” He laughs a little. “I always liked you,” he says, and then his face settles into something like sadness. Nesta watches him closely. “I didn’t like… the way you made me feel, though. I’d see you down the hall, tired and everything, a stick of a person, and Rhys would make some joke, and I’d hate him.”

She blinks.

He looks down. “I’d never hated him before.”

There’s a tension between them. It’s common enough to be recognizable, but not enough to be familiar. She’s on edge, unsure.

The silence seeps in.

“And I hated myself, too,” he says. His eyes flick back up to hers.

Her breath catches in her chest. “I hated myself because I didn’t do anything. So I stayed away.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, overwhelmed. Everything is building; everything is quiet. His eyes are deep and dark and swirling. He shakes his head slightly, leaning closer, slowly, slowly, and she sees it all happen—he takes her face in his hands. She can see the stray strand of hair on his forehead, the one eyelash resting by his nose, the mole right above his mouth.

“I watched you fade,” he breathes. “I watched them pull you around.”

She twines one finger into his hair, trying to bring him closer, trying to have him closer. Come here, Azriel. Come with me. Be with me, love me, because I love you.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, because it’s all she can say.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he murmurs, and kisses her.

•

“Wait,” he says, reaching up.

“What?”

He touches the nightlight. “You kept this?”

She laughs, curled into his side, and says, “Of course I did.” He drops a kiss to her hair. “They all bought me books. You made it easy to read them.”

—-

@acosfisfeysandpropaganda I finally wrote it!!

[adorerdraco]

I’m Here ✧ Draco x Reader

Request: Hi, so I’m not sure if you’re taking these kinds of fics for Draco, but I’ve been feeling really down lately, and I was wondering if you could write a one shot or a scenario where the reader has been having a really bad day/week and Draco comforts them? And maybe Draco lays the reader on his chest and he hums a small tune to make the reader feel better? You can ignore this if it’s an issue, but I’d really appreciate it. I love all of your fics btw! They make me really happy <3

Warnings: none bc mostly fluff, some tears, super soft!draco

Words: 1.9K

A/N: i saw this and had to do it effective immediately bc i am feeling the exact same wayyy so this was really nice to think about ;( thank you so much for requesting this and for reading my stuff and i’m so glad i can help in a way <3 i’m sending you nothing but peace, love, and light !!! but i really hope this is gooood <3 do not own gif

Life was punishing you, you thought. It had to be. Because there was no way how in the span of a week everything in your day-to-day life had gone from okay to borderline catastrophic. It was as if every situation you were in was taking its form in the worst case possible scenario and all you could do was watch hopelessly as things continuously got worse sprinkled with small misfortunes in between.

It started on a regular Monday morning, sitting down for breakfast in the Great Hall with blissful ignorance. Halfway through eating your toast, your owl had come in through the open large glass windows and dropped a letter onto your plate from home that left you some very unfortunate news and had set forth a ripple effect that began making everything else go downhill as your days progressed. By the end of the school week, you had managed to blow up a potion, lose house points because of said potion when it splashed onto some people and had some physically altering effects, tripped over your footing and fell in the middle of a crowded corridor, failed a surprise quiz, forgot to turn in an essay, got into an argument with a friend, accidentally slept in and missed a morning class, and took a trip to the hospital wing for a migraine that didn’t want to leave you alone. You could’ve sworn you had somehow been thrown into purgatory, or limbo, or something outer-worldly. 

“Are you alright?” Draco had asked you right after breakfast that Monday morning as he was walking you to your first class. “What was in the letter your owl gave you? You look worried.”

“It was nothing,” you dismissed quickly, trying to put on a half-hearted smile while you spoke to make it more convincing. “I’m fine, just tired.”

It was the beginning of the week, and he did keep you up late the night before when you were sneaking around together, so he just shook his head up and down and took your excuse even though he felt like there was more to it than you were letting on. But as the days went on, he was becoming more observant of the way you were acting and even looking. He didn’t like that every morning he saw the shadows under your eyes get deeper and darker, and he didn’t like how you would close your eyes in pain when you would groan about your headache. He also didn’t like the way he hadn’t seen you truly smile or laugh all week even when he tried countless times to amuse you or cheer you up. But what he didn’t like most of all was that he felt like there was nothing he could do. 

On Wednesday afternoon, he tried asking you again. You were sitting in the Quad with him on a bench and he was telling you a story from earlier in the day about how he had ‘accidentally’ tripped this Gryffindor boy and got Snape to take away house points from him that he thought for sure would you make laugh or perhaps give him a disapproving redirection, but when he glanced up to see your reaction, he noticed you weren’t even listening, to begin with. You had been staring down at your shoes and the way they lined up against the cracks in the pavement, kicking around some gravel as your mind was running a million thoughts per second.

“Love?” He said to you softly. You looked up at him swiftly with a quiet questioning hum, e/c eyes widened slightly from being ripped away from your thoughts suddenly. “You know if something’s bothering you, you can talk to me.”

“I know,” you nodded warmly. “I’m okay, Dray. I’m honestly just tired.”

And you were telling the truth, in a sense. You really were tired; physically, mentally, emotionally.

He frowned, dissatisfied with your answer. “Right, well if anything at all comes up, I’m here.”

From then on, Draco took it upon himself to try and increase his affections and compliments. He would hug you a little tighter, kiss you a little longer, whisper sweet little nothings into your ear before he left you for class. You felt a little bad lying to him, withholding the truth from him, and you saw the concern in his light gray’s when you’d meet him in the mornings and for the rest of the day, but it only made you feel a tad bit worse. You were starting to feel guilty for the way he was worrying, feeling like you were dragging him down into the dumps with you and raining on his usual carefree parades.

On Friday morning, you didn’t meet him for breakfast and you were out of the Great Hall faster than he could catch you. He felt like a stalker when he walked by your class, peeking his head in to see if you were there and well. He spotted you sitting at your desk, hunched over your unopened books with a grimace on your face and your head in your hands. He wanted to go in and whisk you away to somewhere far and quiet, but the Professor had caught him by the door and sent him on his way before he could even think of doing anything of the sort.

You felt the day had gone by extremely slow, relative to how the week was moving and also impossibly dismal. You were counting down the minutes until the end of the school day, ready to run to your dorm right after your last class and bury yourself deep into your duvet and pillows for the rest of the weekend.

Head still pounding, you trudged over to your final class, stopping outside the doors when you saw a small group of your housemates standing around with unnerved expressions as they passed each other papers and spoke in hushed tensed tones.

“I studied all night but my friend took the test earlier and she told me during lunch that it had stuff on it that wasn’t even in the reading!” You heard one exclaim in distress.

“We have a test?” You accidentally said aloud and a pair of eyes turned to look at you confusingly.

“Yeah? Professor’s been telling us all week.”

A scoff of disbelief escaped your lips, an overwhelming sense of defeat washing over you as you turned briskly on your heel and in the opposite direction of your classroom. Tears started pricking at your eyes, you felt the stinging of them wanting to be released but you refused to let them all out in the open and especially in front of people who were still taking their time to head to their classes. 

You were making a beeline towards your common room, blinking rapidly to try and clear your vision that was quickly pooling with unshed tears while trying to steady your breathing in another failed attempt to calm yourself. You were nearly there, you could tell by the paintings and doors that you passed by and the black stain splattered on the floor you saw every day on your way to the dorms from someone’s dropped ink bottle that Filch hasn’t been able to get rid of. 

Almost there, you kept repeatedly reminding yourself.

All hope of solace was gone when you didn’t notice the body you had unknowingly crashed into. All you felt were strong hands around your biceps, holding you in place from toppling backward and the very familiar scent of expensive cologne and mint.

“Y/N? Why aren’t you in class?” You looked up at the platinum blond sadly, his worried eyes searching yours with such care that it pushed you over the edge.

You didn’t answer him and instead wrapped your arms tightly around Draco’s middle, burying your face deep into his robes and letting out quiet and frail weeps that broke his heart. He held you tightly, pressing kisses to the top of your head and muttering soft “I’m here’s” into your hair. You stayed in his embrace for a few minutes, letting your tears freely fall into his vest with a sense of relief that only he was able to give you at this point in time.

“I’m sorry I cried on you,” you choked out when you pulled away from him, desperately wiping away at your eyes with the back of your sleeve.

“You don’t ever have to apologize for that,” he said quickly. He brought his hand up to your face, his thumb swiping delicately over a stray tear that was sitting on your jaw while you closed your eyes in comfort. “Do you want to go back to my room? I can set you up really nicely and we can talk if you’d like?”

“Yes please, I’d like that a lot.”

Draco interlocked your fingers with his, bringing the pair up to his lips with a warm kiss on the back of your hand before walking the two of you over to the entrance of the Slytherin common room. It was empty when you walked in, not a soul in sight since everyone was still in class and it made it much easier for him to sneak you into his singular Prefect room you were now extremely grateful he had. He watched contently when you shed off your robes and kicked off your shoes and immediately slipped into one of his dark green jumpers that fit you big. 

You were perched on the edge of his bed, his scent from his sweater engulfing you and doing a much better job of calming you down than you wanted to admit. He followed in your footsteps and changed into something comfier and when he finally sat beside you with his hand falling over yours as an encouragement to talk - you did. You vented to him all about the letter from home, the migraine, your classes, the argument between you and your friend, and everything else that came to mind.

“And I feel bad for ignoring you and not telling you all this before but I didn’t want to burden you,” you finished with sniffles, gazing up at him with a gloomy expression. 

“Y/N, I love you, and nothing you say to me is a burden,” he frowned slightly, “when I tell you I’m here, I mean it, for anything. You’re so important to me and it kills me to see you upset.”

In a careful movement, he had scooted towards you and affectionately cupped your face before placing a loving kiss on your forehead and murmured to you, “don’t ever hesitate to come to me.”

You let him pull you under his covers, draping his large duvet over your entangled bodies with your head resting right above his chest, the steady beatings of his heart instantly sending you into a much-needed peace. His chin was rested right atop your head and you felt his fingers run up and down your arm soothingly while he thought.

“Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?” He asked quietly.

“Can you help me fall asleep?” you muttered, closing your eyes gently when his hand smoothed over the back of your hair. You felt him nod against your head and after a small moment silence, you heard him begin to hum the faint tune of your favorite song.

You lied there in bliss, enjoying the way his chest was vibrating against your ear and the way his fingers were playing with the ends of your hair, curling the strands around his fingers and then moving upwards to massage your scalp. And for a minute, everything was finally okay again as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, a full heart and with your love calmly lulling you away with a soft and now distant humming.

[anemo-writes]

hello travelers! again, thank you for putting up with my inactivity, it’s been hard to write lately haha. anyways, i thought this would be something fun to post and for everyone to enjoy, whether you celebrate Valentine’s Day or not :) (note: this will probably be more fanon than canon so please bear with me, i’ll make it as canon as it can be :’) i also kept this pretty short, so hopefully that’s okay too,, and sorry for this being late haha—i wrote this very late at night so don’t mind any typos you find please)

much love,

~ anemo-chan <3

(The Playable) Genshin Impact Characters on Valentine’s Day (Romantically)

super romantic; gifts you a bouquet of flowers and takes you out to eat at a fancy restaurant/cooks for you.

Diluc

He is nervous. He’s never paid close attention to the countless amount of people who have lined outside the tavern to ask him to be their Valentine, only to be rejected. There was absolutely no way that he would turn to Kaeya for advice, so unfortunately this was something he would have to figure out for himself. He figures that it wouldn’t hurt to go traditional, so that’s what he does; he buys a large bouquet of roses (which he had to get from Donna, seeing that at the hours that he ended work were very late and Flora’s shop was not open at the time—yeah, that was not fun) and presents himself outside your doorway, to which he invites you to join him for a late dinner—which he makes!

Lisa

She leaves a letter on top of your nightstand, paired along with a singular rose. The letter states for you to meet her outside of Good Hunter, where you find her sitting at a table with a candle dimly-lighting up the surroundings. She greets you with a warm smile, gesturing for you to sit down—the two of you enjoy a candle-lit dinner as well as bolognese she specially requested for Sara to make for the two of you to enjoy together why does this remind me so much of Lady and the Tramp,,

Tartaglia

Oh boy. It’s always a fun time spending a holiday with him, seeing that it could go two ways; one, he would be too busy to celebrate it with you on the day of, and he would take you out the day after, or two—have a store’s entire line of merchandise presented to you outside your doorstep, in which a very, very smiley Tartaglia hidden within the pile (after all, he was the best present!) After you’re done moving all of the gifts into your house (it took up the space of your entire living room), he tells you to cover your eyes and follow him. He takes you to one of the most well-known restaurants in Liyue (which currently doesn’t have a name because it is very late here!), and insists that you order whatever you want, and however much you want.

Zhongli

Over the years, he’s witnessed many, many couples celebrate this holiday and every year he’s wished to do the same. He finds the perfect opportunity to do so when Valentine’s Day is around the corner, and boy does he plan it out for the two of you. He’s even made sure to have his wallet on him at all times—it would be extremely rude for you to have to pay if he happened to forget his wallet. He makes sure to stop by to pick up a bouquet of flowers, as well as a bottle of perfume (not in a bad way, just to clarify) from Ying’er’s shop that he recalled you liked. He makes sure to pick you up early from your work place to make sure you made it to your appointment on time; after all, being late to an appointment was similar to breaking a contract, no?

surprises you with homemade sweets.

Fischl

Oh, she is so nervous—of course, she doesn’t show this. The entire week, she spent researching recipes to create a special batch of chocolate-dipped strawberries just for you—she even sent Oz to the nearby farms to “borrow” the freshest strawberries for the treat (the farmers were too scared to confront the talking bird who “borrowed” their strawberries, so luckily they got away with it). She dips them in a purple-colored chocolate (because what other color would she use, really?) and drizzles on a dark-chocolate syrup to top it off. She’s too shy to actually give it to you herself though, so she has Oz drop it off for her.

Ganyu

Even though she’s quite busy, she’s somehow found time to whip up a special batch of chocolate just for you! She shapes them into Glaze Lilies (which she found quite hard, which is why there are so few of them) and presents them to you in a neatly-sealed box. She’s quite modest when your eyes widen and tell her it’s the best chocolate you have ever eaten, claiming that she only followed a recipe, when she really made it from scratch.

Keqing

Like Ganyu, you have no idea how she finds time to create a perfect array of chocolates, which she made herself! However, with her tightly-packed schedule, she has to drop it off at your house in advance, to which you accept happily. She tried to decorate them with designs of cartoon-versions of your faces, but they’re a bit...messy. Nonetheless, they’re tasty, and to her relief, you enjoy them.

Mona

Somehow, she’s managed to scrape up enough mora to buy you a necklace; yes, a necklace, and a real one at that—none of that fake, costume jewelry stuff! She even added a pendant shaped like star, just so you could be reminded of her whenever you fiddled with it or even glanced at it. She’s quite flustered when she gives it to you, ignoring the way you ask how she managed to save this much mora to be able to buy something like this, changing the subject on how you should never-ever take it off (because it looks great on you.)

Noelle

One word: pancakes. (Have you seen the ones she makes for her special dishes? They’re frigging amazing) As a dutiful maid should, she wakes up especially early to prepare a homemade breakfast just for you, to which she serves to you just as your wake up in bed. The fluffy stack of pancakes are decorated with fruits cut up in heart-shapes, as well the words, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N”, written neatly with chocolate syrup—it’s quite a sight to see, to be honest, and utterly delicious. Lucky you!

Xiangling

The day before, she tells you to meet her at the restaurant around noon. When you arrive, the restaurant is adorned with Valentine decorations, as well as a terrifying amount of food; she insists that she only made it for you, so you better eat up! Before she can show you the other dishes, the restaurant is suddenly filled with a strong, bitter smell—something burning. With a yelp, she runs into the kitchen, coming out a few minutes later with a tray of half-scorched cupcakes, their Gouba-shapes adorned with...a lot of burn marks. Oh well, it’s the thought that counts, doesn’t it?

buys/makes a present for you.

Albedo

Without your knowledge, Albedo has been creating a collection of artworks throughout all the time you had spent together. The pieces include portraits of you, portraits of you and him (sucrose helped with this), as well as just random sketches of the little things that remind him of you, such as the bare, snowy-white terrain where the two of you first met, as well as its flora and fauna. If you request it, he’ll even make the painting come alive (literally), and the two of you run to Sucrose’s dwelling, who is very shocked to see the pair of you running from a Frosted Lawachurl when she peered out her window to see if she could pinpoint the sounds of distant screaming.

Amber

Is there anything better than a matching set of wind gliders? Not only that—they were homemade! She spent the last couple of weeks putting together a pair of gliders for the two of you, customizing them to your tastes (which she nailed!) She quite literally drags you to the nearest hill to test them out, and the two of you end up challenging each other on who can get back to the Knights of Farvonius Headquarters the fastest—spoiler alert: she did.

Barbara

Oh, she would make the cutest card for you—the envelope is decorated with cute stickers (some of them even had her face on it; there’s nothing like promoting merchandise, am i right? jkjks) She also pairs it off with a box of chocolates that she bought from Sara—however, what she didn’t know was that in the box was a special-edition spicy chocolate truffle. With your luck, that was the first one you chose—and boy, were you met a surprise (it was so bad that you were begging Barbara to use her Vision on you, which she refused of course). Fun times.

Chongyun

He’s real sweet. After his expeditions and commissions, he opens the freezer (yes he keeps them in there, don’t judge him) to an array of ice sculptures, shapes varying from flowers, hearts, and such—although it’s quite the simple gift, he’s put a lot of effort into them, even putting in the extra effort to cast a spell to make sure they would not melt; it’s all worth though, when he sees the absolutely giddy expression on your face, and the look of pure awe as you pick one up and study it closely, admiring all of the details and work that’s he put in.

Ningguang

She sends out informants to find out what you like, whether it be something that your gaze settled on for too long or something you’ve mentioned while talking to her—on the day of, you open your door to a mountain of gifts, with Ningguang herself peering out from behind it with a calm smile and a wave (which was the opposite of your reaction, because who has that much mora to purchase all of these gifts?!?)

Razor

He doesn’t have a clue on what the holiday until Lisa asks him if he’s planned something for the two of you during one of his lessons. When he shakes his head no, Lisa suggests that he make you something, to which he sets out on an adventure to do, looking for flowers and flower stems to weave into a pair of matching bracelets—they’re not the prettiest, but he is pretty proud of it; after all, it was his first time making something like that. He’s quite nervous to present it to you, afraid that you might not like it, but all feelings of worry melt away when you slide it on with a huge smile on your face, insisting that he wears his too.

Sucrose

At first, she considers gifting you a present that she created herself; of course, with her work being alchemy, she isn’t sure if that would be the safest option, despite being talented herself. And so, she resorts to buying a present for you—she is very picky with the present though, insisting that it should be perfect since she could not make one herself. She even consults Albedo when selecting some of the presents (he doesn’t help her unfortunately; he believes that she should figure it out herself haha). Like Razor, she’s quite nervous to give it to you, but lets out a huge sigh of relief as you thank her happily for the gift, wiping a bead of sweat from across her forehead (sucrose bby anything you give us would be perfect,,)

whisks you away somewhere sentimental, where the two of you can enjoy a special date.

Beidou

It’s ungodly early in the morning when Beidou presents herself in front of your doorstep, announcing that you’ll be joining her and the crew on a special ride. She tugs you along beside her until you reach the harbor, where you are met with the sight of her ship adorned with streamers and banners, varying between shades of pink and red. Onboard, there is a table filled with goodies the crew collected and made, and boy do they look delicious. The group sets out to sea, and you take your place next to the captain, who even lets you steer the boat (momentarily, at least.)

Bennett

He takes you to meet his dads; yes, yes—he knows that it’s not the most romantic thing to do on a day dedicated to lovers, but he figures it’s just as important. Besides, they’ve been asking about you for quite a while—they even set up a small party within the Adventurer’s Guild, with the help of Bennett, of course. You spend the day listening to their old adventuring stories, as well as bits from Bennett’s childhood (poor boy is flustered from all the information his dads are spilling, but he’s still happy either way; after all, he’s with the most important people to him.)

Kaeya

He quite literally kidnaps you; one second you’re walking in the streets of Mondstadt on your way to work when suddenly someone grabs you by the waist and pulls you into an alley way (that sounds so creepy but i swear he means it in a good way). He only chuckles and shields himself with his arms as you punch him lightly, retorting that he scared you. He doesn’t care that the two of you have an overwhelming amount of work to do—after all, Valentine’s Day only comes once a year, right? Surprisingly, he doesn’t take you the tavern, but instead...Dawn Winery! Diluc received quite the surprise when he is met with the two of you standing outside his gates, with Kaeya requesting a wine/grape juice taste-testing. Yeah...you guys didn’t get any of that, but you did manage to snag a couple of grapes on your way out! Good for you!

Venti

You wake up in your bed, opening your eyes to see a very-smiley Venti laying beside you, chin propped up against his hand as he watches you yawn sleepily as you force yourself out of bed. You’re then presented with a handpicked-bouquet of Ceceilias, the freshest of the bunch, if he may add. You barely have time to thank him before he hoists you up in his arms and out of your dwelling, gliding over the city of Mondstadt as he whisks you away to Starsnatch Cliff, where he’s prepared a special performance just for you (and no, you don’t need to pay.)

Xingqiu

While he’s not the most romantic, he does have a clue on what people look for on Valentine’s Day; after all, that’s what cheesy-romance novels were for, right? Unbeknownst to you, he takes you on a date very similar to the one the main characters in his favorite novels partook in—and you don’t find out until you catch him peeking into the pages while you weren’t (you were) looking. Again, it’s the thought that counts—

doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day.

Jean

Sadly, she probably forgets about the holiday. She’s too busy holed-up in her office to notice the couples gathered up in the courtyard, sharing moments with their lover. It’s not until she walks out to take a breather that she notices the commotion—she immediately calls you over, apologizing frantically. Of course, to this you respond that’s it’s okay, but that you would much rather her take the rest of the day off to spend time together, to which she reluctantly agrees.

Xiao

“I do not have time to celebrate silly human traditions like that.” He would say as you bound up to him, exclaiming that it’s Valentine’s Day, the day where you can give sweets to your loved ones, and asking if he had someone special in mind to spend it with. He’s irked when your gaze falters and the grip on the object you’re hiding behind your back tightens—he only grows more irked as you mutter to yourself how you’ll give the chocolates you made to someone else. He scoffs loudly, avoiding your gaze as he lays out his hand in front of you to accept the chocolates (just because he doesn’t celebrate the holiday doesn’t mean he can’t get jealous!)

[fairestwriting]

Octatrio pining for a singular S/O? Or maybe Jade gifting terrariums to people? I have a lot of Octavinelle ideas ha

pining octatrio scenario for the soul. love these morally dubious fish men. i hope you like my interpretation of this ksdjkskd

prompt: octavinelle pining for the same person.

word count: 1114

Mostro Lounge is as lively as usual, the clinking of glasses and silverware against plates echoing around you as you flip through your textbooks, the white noise helping you focus on the content at hand.

You’d been there for a while today, exams were coming up, and you really didn’t want to mess up this time. It turned out that the lounge was the place where it was easier for you to focus, so you’ve become quite the regular recently.

It wasn’t a place without its distractions, though -- They came every now and then, making you look up from your books and notes, losing your train of thought.

“Excuse me,” Coincidentally, it seemed to be the time for one of these distractions -- Jade Leech walks up to you gracefully, a couple menus in his arms. Was he working today? He hadn’t greeted you yet. “Would you perhaps like something to drink? You’ve been here for quite a while.”

“Ah, I’ve had one already.” You answer almost immediately. Jade and you didn’t really talk that much, but you saw him often, and whenever you did, he’d hover over you like this -- It’s sort of strange, you can never tell what he has going on in his head, unsettlingly. But he’s always so polite, it’s hard to deny that he could be really charming...

Jade chuckles lightly. “Yes, you did an hour and some ago. But that’s a bit too long, isn’t it? You shouldn’t go thirsty.” He speaks, and opens the menu in front of you. “Won’t you choose something for me to bring to you? I’ll give you a discount if it means you take care of yourself.”

A discount? Azul wouldn’t like that. Now that he said it, though, it’d been a while since you had anything to drink. He pushes the menu towards you a little.“W-Well, I guess it’s fine, then.” You mutter, always caught off guard by how he gives you attention. It’s hard to imagine that someone like Jade would, so suddenly, grow fond of you. You flip through the menu shortly before choosing a drink.

“Excellent choice.” Jade praises, still with that unflappable smile. “I’ll be back shortly. Be sure to take breaks.”

“R-Right! Thank you...”

Jade really was... a surprisingly nice guy.

With your evening just a little brightened, you’re about to go back to the books. Before that can happen, though, the second Leech brother rushes towards your table in a flash.

“Shrimpy!” Floyd sing-songs, hopping onto the plush seat in front of yours. “Hi there! I didn’t see you today!”

These Octavinelle students sure are energetic today, you think with a quiet laugh. “Hi, Floyd.” You greet back. “Sorry we can’t talk much, I really gotta study.”

“Eh, that’s so boring.” He whines, but the smile stays on his face as he tilts his head, mismatched eyes watching you closely. "Don't you wanna hang out with me? There's something outside the dorm I wanna show you!"

A tempting offer, really, but all your books glare at you -- You glance at them for a bit, genuinely considering it, but ultimately shake your head

"No, sorry. I'm screwed if I don't do well in these." You say, regrettably. Floyd pouts. "Maybe after the exams though?"

"I wanna hang out with Shrimpy now, though." He whines, cheek resting on one of his hands. Before you notice it, his free hand reaches forward, towards a lock of your hair, and he brushes your bangs off your face casually. Your shoulders stiffen, face heating up. "Pretty please? I promise you it'll be really fun!"

"U-Um." You stutter. Floyd was always touchy, but it never failed to catch you off guard. You have to avert your eyes from his, feeling way too close to just giving in. "S-Sorry, Floyd, I promise that later we'll--"

"Floyd!" Suddenly, Azul's exasperated voice fills the scenario, he marches towards your table. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at the kitchen today!"

"I don't feel like it, though." He complains. His hand near you lingers just for a bit, sort of cold agaisnt your warm cheeks before it drops. "I worked every day this week already! I'm not doing it today."

"Frankly, you..." Azul sighs, pushing his glasses up with a defeated expression. There's no use arguing with Floyd, everyone knows that, he just does what he wants. "Fine. I expect you to make up for this whenever you're working again, though."

"Yeah, whatever." He giggles "I guess I'm gonna be by myself then, since Shrimpy can't come with me...so sad~"

He's getting up to leave when Azul seems to finally notice your presence, perking up at the sight.

"Oh, my apologies, I didn't see you there!" He says quickly, light pink dusted over his cheeks. "Has Floyd caused you any problems? He can be so troublesome when he wants to..."

"Don't worry about it, he just wanted to hang out." You shrug. Azul nods at that, patting down his jacket like he needed to make sure there were no wrinkles -- He acted so frantic sometimes.

"That may be troublesome, though, since you're studying right now, am I right?" He speaks, taking a step closer to inspect the books on your table. "Are you having a hard time with these? I'm able to tutor you, if you need to."

Being in debt to Azul is never a good idea. "Um, no, I don't really have anything to offer for that. Thank you, though." Somehow, this doesn't seem to discourage him much -- Though he averts his eyes, weirdly, as he adjusts the hat on his head.

"W-Well, it's a simple task, I wouldn't require any compensation for that." It comes out a little mumbly, contrasting Azul's usual poise. He won't look you in the eyes now. "I...If you don't believe me, I'll sign something for you!"

"Ah, well." You mutter, unsure of how to reply. "I mean, I'm doing okay with these, but if I need help later, then..."

His face lights up quickly. "Wonderful. I'll be happy to help." He almost beams at you, a small laugh leaving him after he speaks. "I'll leave you to it now, but if you need anything at all, don't hesitate to contact me!"

"Sure, thank you, Azul." It seems that you'd be able to get back to your studying soon. Hopeful, you pick up the textbook you were looking at before. "You're actually a kind person, huh."

"N-Naturally." And he averts his eyes again, cheeks pinker. "I'll...I suppose I'll leave now. I'll see you around."

"See you!"

You watch him leave for a moment. These Octavinelle students sure were strange, huh?

[accio-slytherout]

Mischief Managed

Concept by @helliontherapscallion

Pairings: p!sbi x reader, p!dreamXD x reader, c!Philza x reader (could be taken as platonic/romantic)

characters: TommyInnit, Ph1lza Minecraft, Wilbur, Technoblade, Captain Puffy

mentioned characters: Fundy

Warnings: Fighting, blood, swearing, pranks, trickery (?), shouting (tell me if I missed anything!)

in game dsmp!au

summary: Reader is the god of mischief and trickery. After catching up with their old friend and his family, they got into a fight with the god of the server, dreamXD.

Not proofread

note: reader does not act like peeves! sorry in advance! i really liked this concept, i just had to write it. i put more effort into this than i did on my social studies essay. was fun to write :D straying from canon lore! I was not sure how to write dreamXD's text, so i wrote it in normal text! i am not very good and pranking, and not that creative or smart on those kind of things, so I will not really specify what is going on in the pranking.

flachbacks in italic

masterpost

------

(Y/N) was just skipping around the forest, looking for flowers to make some dye when they stumbled upon a boy that was picking some red flowers.

"WHAT THE F*CK" he shouted with a strong British accent. "Who the f*ck are you?" he continued. "Well who are you child?" they retorted.

"WHAT THE- IM NOT- THE FU- IM NOT A F*CKING CHILD IM A BIG MAN" the 'Big Man' as he called himself retorted, stumbling over his words. He heard a very mischievous laughter come out of the random person he stumbled upon, and he chose to put up the angriest face he could and crossed his arms.

"The name's (Y/N). How about you, big man?" they finally replied with a slight mocking tone. "Tommy. What are you doing here? I've never seen you around before." answered Tommy.

"I'm looking for some dye, so I can dye Fundy's fur" they replied, rather mischievously? Well, point is, Tommy's eyes lit up at the mention of pranking the fox. "Could I maybe help you?" he replied with an equally mischievous tone.

Thats how a friendhip started. They caused pure havoc around the server. Pranking the first person they thought of. They were laughing their butts off on the bench.

"TOMMYINNIT YOU STOP RIGHT THERE!"

Panic rose in their chests as they slowly swallowed and turned around. There stood Captain Puffy looking very angry... with bright pink covering her entire body. They tried their best to hold in their laughter, as she did not look very intimidating.

Yet, Tommy could not help but to start laughing loudly. That pushed (Y/N) over the edge and started laughing hysterically, and they swore they saw Puffy crack a smile at the sight.

"Im- sor- sorry-" he said inbetween his laughter. They both tried their best to stop laughing, and after a while, they did.

Puffy let out a sigh, and said "Tommy, I will get you back. I am warning you." with a glint of amusement in her eyes. Tommy seemed to have sobered up at the thought and looked scared. Puffy left with a wave and headed to her home to probably clean up.

"That was funny though." he said out of the blue. That started another round of laughter to go throught them.

"Say, (Y/N), how old are you?" Tommy asked after they have both calmed down. "I'm the god of mischief and trickery. I'm and immortal being. I am centuries old, kid." they answered.

"Really? That's quite pog! Did you know my father is also immortal? You might know him, name's Philza, Angel of Death. Does that ring a bell?" he rambled, ignoring the fact that they had just called him kid.

(Y/N) was ecstatic at the idea of being able to meet with their old friend again, but decided to say "HECK YEAH! I GET TO MESS WITH HIM AGAIN!" as to hide their feelings. They were the god of trickery after all. They had an image to uphold.

Tommy decided to go take them to Phil. Bad idea. As they reached the door of Phil's cottage, Tommy just burst into the house without knocking.

"Phil~ I'm baack~" Tommy called in a sing-song tone. Phil just said "Welcome back" in a monotone voice from the kitchen without looking.

As he was preparing supper, he heard Techno shout from the living room "TOMMY WHO ON EARTH IS THAT?!". Millions of thoughts start rushing through his head. Who could Tommy have brought with him? He ran out of the kitchen and went to see for himself who it was.

The scene in front of him just made him want to be buried 6 feet under the ground. There it was, His two oldest sons looking at the door from the bottom of the stairs and his youngest son, standing next to the person he hated the most. (Y/N).

They were walking through the forest. Phil felt something touch his shoulder. He turned around, raising his sword as he was startled. There they were, (Y/N), making the weirdest face possible.

"For f*ck's sake (Y/N)! stop it!". That only made them laugh more. "You should have seen your face!" they said inbetween laughter.

The man loathed them. He just wanted to leave them there, in the middle of nowhere, for this was not the only thing they have done in the past hour of adventuring. He, however decided to ignore them, for his heart could not bear the idea of leaving his companion alone.

"Long time no see, Philza." they said with a smirk. "Kill me already" he groaned. That was the only thing that came out of his mouth.

After Phil had supper with his family and the devil- sorry, unexpected guest, he went to clean up as his sons sat in the living room with (Y/N).

"So you're immortal?" said the oldest boy that they learnt was called Wilbur. They nodded as a reply, and he just said "Thats so cool!"

"I have read about you before, however, seeing you, I don't think the book described you correctly. Could you, possibly tell me more about your tricks and stuff?" Technoblade's monotone voice had a slight tone of curiosity and amusement while asking the question.

So they did. They told the boys about their stories. As they finished, they realised that Wilbur and Tommy had fallen asleep and Techno was half paying attention to them.

"You should go to sleep. Both of you. It's quite late already." A voice said behind her. "I'm a god, Phil. I don't need sleep." they retorted as they turned around, looking at the man.

"Suit yourself." he shrugged. He opened his mouth to tell his son to go to sleep, but he realised that his son, in fact was already asleep. He shook his head and got some blankets to lay above his sons. "I guess you can stay the night. It's late anyways" he spoke before (Y/N) could say anything and he left to go to his room. Huge mistake.

Philza minecraft was having a good sleep, when he heard a scream from the living room. He panicked, as his mind made up the worst scenarios possible. As he rushed downstairs, he saw Wilbur with bright pink hair, Tommy with a very bold red hair and hands, along with a half asleep Techno raising his sword.

Only then did he remember, that his least favourite person was at his house. Right as he thought about that, he heard giggling coming from the living room.

"(Y/N)!" he shouted along with Wilbur and Tommy. "Yes?" they batted their eyelashes innocently. Phil watched with amusement at the scene unfolding before him. Tommy and Wilbur shouting at (Y/N) and Techno lowering his sword and laying back down on the couch, sensing no danger.

"Boys, enough. (Y/N), will these dyes wash away?" he finally said in a stern tone that had a hint of amusedment in it. "Ofcourse father of minecraft. Run water through them and they will be gone" they said with such innocence that he would have believed it was not her had he not known it was their doing.

Wilbur and tommy quickly rushed to the bathroom to wash their hair out, and Phil swore the doors of the bathroom would fall off its hinges from the amount of force that was put into opening it.

"I must say, that was pretty funny, (N/N)." Phil said with amusement as he went to prepare some breakfast. (Y/N) smiled proudly from the compliment, as he was always telling her off after pranking.

Phil now remembers why he always asked them to accompany him on adventures. They were fun, and entertaining. Sometimes, they're even smart and helpful. The thought of his adventures with them brought a smile to his face.

A week in their visit, they heard a knock on the door. Phil, thinking it was just (Y/N), thought nothing of it. So he just calmly walks to the door and answers it. What he didn't expect however, was DreamXD at the door, floating in a menacing stance.

"You all give me your youngest son, or you all are dead. You have 24 hours. If you do not hive him by them, you are all dead." DreamXD said in a demonic sound.

As DreamXD turned around, Phil saw a cloud of something covering his sight, he felt... flour? he cleared the flour from his face and saw DreamXD covered in flour and (Y/N) on the roof looking rather sheepishly at DreamXD.

"Sorry, I thought you were Philza" they said sarcastically. "Not sorry, actually." they continued as they cracked an egg and poured it along with some sugar on to DreamXD's head.

DreamXD suddenly whips something out and slapped (Y/N) off the roof. As (Y/N) was used to falling from high places, they landed on the ground with nothing but a few scratches.

DreamXD stabs them with a sword, and blood splattered from their waist. (Y/N), being the god of mischief, had ofcourse had lots of experience on pranking, but wasnt strong. However, they are very witty, as they always find creative ways to prank people.

(Y/N) somehow found a way to make DreamXD retreat, but Phil could not see how. All he saw was smoke, DreamXD leaving and (Y/N) lying on the floor, with blood gushing out of their side making a puddle on the ground.

They let out a chuckle and turned to face Phil. "Your lives are safe, Phil. And what can I say? Mischief... managed." they trailed off as their eyes closed. Phil rushed to bandage them up and put them in a spare bedroom.

A week.

That was how long it was.

One singular week. Seven days. Yet it felt like seven years they had been unconscious. The house felt empty. No chaos. Everyone was worried about them.

Phil let out a sigh. He closed the door and sat down next to where (Y/N) was laying. He traced his index finger over the palm of their hand that he was holding, and whispered "I don't think you know this.. but you really are a great friend, (N/N). I love your personality.. Who am I kidding, I love you."

Phil then thought, they were unconcious. He let out a chuckle at the thought. "Look at me.. talking to someone unconscious." he said out loud, closing his eyes and resting his head on the palm of his hand that was propped up on the bed. Little did he know, they were fully awake, and pretending to be unconscious.

"Aww, thanks Phil. I love you too." he suddenly heard. He whipped his head around to their direction and saw that their head was turned to his direction. He hugged them, minding their injuries and whispered in their ear that he was thankful that they were fine over and over again.

Phil then felt their body shaking and heard gentle sobs coming out of them. He pulled away from the hug and cupped their face in his hands and wiped their tears away.

"What's wrong, (N/N)?" he calmly asked. They just cried more and gave him a hug. They told him that they have never felt accepted, and that the only person that has ever tolerated them was him. They told him that they were happy that he cared for them. They told him how much they cared for him and how great of a friend he was. They told him how much they loved him.

After their little heart to heart session, Phil went to go and prepare lunch for everyone in the house. He told the boys that (Y/N) was awake now. Everyone was glad and relieved that they were awake again. And (Y/N) was glad, that they now had a family that cared for them.

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end.