#unfortunately she died some time ago because i would have loved to have met her

[gaytobymeres]

writing an email in response to a very kind garden historian who has sent me so much information, and im paranoid that 1) i cant write well or clearly, 2) that im writing an email that is so long and boring, and 3) i just feel it might be unnessecary. or maybe im making unjust claims (except im not really claiming anything im just saying 'theres evidence that points to x instead of y') but ive never properly studied history or researched like this so i do feel a bit out of my depth

[astraariel]

eternal snow

pairing: sanji x fem!reader

summary: your love for sanji was unconditional, unfortunately, he didn’t feel the same seeing as there were petals coming out of your mouth.

word count: 3.6K

warnings: spoilers (?) just the name of a character from the whole cake island arc, it’s a modern!au so I don't mention anything about the actual arc!

tags: loosely based on “eternal snow” from fullmoon wo sagashite; angst; hanahaki disease; implied cheating; modern!au; hurt no comfort; lovesick; requited unrequited love

author's note: I think along with everyone opla is taking over my life so it encouraged me to finish this fic I started months ago lol. once again I like angst and this is soooo ooc of sanji he would never cheat I love him so much I’m sorry. on another note, I really like AmaLee’s cover of this song so you can give it a listen if you want to feel the vibe. 

also, ignore the fact that Pudding is sixteen, she’s older than that in this. I couldn’t really think of anyone else to have/didn't want to think of a different character. just know, she’s of age. other than that, ignore grammar mistakes and enjoy♡

──★ ˙ ̟read pt2 here!

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You weren’t entirely sure how you had gotten to this point. You were certain that you two would be together forever. How you had unknowingly lost the one you love so dearly, you would never know.

Sanji was a flirt and you loved it, he could simply say that you looked beautiful today and you’d melt. Hell, that’s how you too met, Nami had introduced you two and Sanji wooed his way into your heart. You knew that he had you in the palm of his hand, but you weren’t sure you could say the same for him.

Sanji was an attentive lover. When he loved, he showered you with his attention. You could always tell that his presence was there whenever you spoke. He’d care and cater to every request you asked of him, not allowing you to lift a single finger. It’s who he was.

You were blinded by your love for Sanji that you never noticed him slipping away from your grasp.

The two of you were currently sitting together on your living room couch. Sanji mentioned there was a new show he wanted to watch, so here the two of you were. Your attention was focused on the TV in front of you while his was on his phone.

You glance at him, “Who’s that?” 

He hadn’t looked away from it for more than 30 seconds throughout the last episode. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he looks at you. 

“Oh, it's the new dessert chef at the restaurant,” he shuts his phone off, “I've been assigned to help her around and show her the ropes,” he smiles, “It’s nothing, you want popcorn?” 

You turn to him, “Of course I do.” He gets up to walk to your kitchen, “Hey, I love you.”

He walks up behind you and bends down, kissing your head, “And I love you more.” He stands up and you hear him rummaging through the pantry for a popcorn packet. 

You cough slightly, “Could you grab me some water, Sanji?” He shouts back a response but you don’t make it out because you’re too busy pulling a petal out of your mouth.

♡‧₊˚

After that lone petal had made its introduction, it planted itself as a constant. Every so often for the following weeks, you’d feel something weird in your mouth, only to pull out a single flower petal.

You weren’t sure what was going on, but you couldn’t bring yourself to think too much about it. On top of the weird cough you were having, Sanji was also acting off. 

It was small at first, just tiny, little white lies that he’d tell you. 

Like when he’d say he was tired, that he was going to bed, but you could hear him on his phone laughing at something from the room. Or when he claimed that his phone had died and that’s why he hadn’t texted you back even though you were hanging with Nami at the time and he had replied to a video she had sent him a minute after you texted him. 

That was just the first few weeks.

You weren’t sure when the white lies became real lies but it had only spiraled more. You had found that he wasn’t even bothering with lying anymore, simply stating that he was too busy to come over or that he didn’t even want to hang out with you that day.

Sanji would claim to be too tired and not bother to see you for an entire week, but then he’d call you complaining that he missed you and question why the two of you hadn’t gone on a date recently and then insist that he was going to cook dinner for the two of you. Those times were always the best. It made you feel like nothing was wrong. 

It was pure whiplash. 

You were never sure which Sanji you were gonna get that day. Maybe it’d be the Sanji that you loved or this new person who had taken over and wouldn’t even text you back for days on end. 

Recently, he was your loving, doting boyfriend. Which caused you to completely forget about the flower petals you were currently collecting from your mouth when you were being distracted by Sanji’s full attention. 

You were lying on Sanji’s chest recounting your day to him when suddenly the sound of his phone pinging cut you off. 

A quiet chuckle made you peek up at Sanji, his eyes were looking at his phone intently, whatever was on his screen, clearly captivated him more than what was coming out of your mouth.

You sit up, his blatant disinterest in your day annoying you. 

“Did I do something wrong?” Your voice cuts through the room.

He looked up at your now sitting form, it looked like he was just acknowledging your presence.

He lets out a noise of confusion, “What?”

“Are you angry at me? Did I say or do something that pissed you off? Because, please, just tell me, I can't take it anymore.” you pleaded.

You notice Sanji’s body tensing, his brow scrunching in even more confusion. He laughs awkwardly, “Baby, what are you talking about? I’m not angry.” he looks away, “I love you, you know that right?”

And suddenly, you weren’t angry anymore. 

You smiled, “I love you too.”

He glances at his phone again.

But you don’t care, because he loves you. 

Satisfied with his response, you settle back down but are interrupted when you begin to cough. Quickly, you stand up to fetch your handkerchief from your pocket, wiping your mouth swiftly. 

You look back at Sanji, “I’m gonna-” but before you can finish, you feel the familiar flowers clawing their way up your throat. You walk out of the room coughing. 

Sanji doesn’t look up from his phone.

♡‧₊˚

He was late.

Again. 

You were exhausted. The constant lies that you fooled yourself into believing for the sake of your heart were beginning to wear on you. 

The old hoodie you were wearing enveloped you in an attempt to provide yourself some level of comfort that no one could really give you anymore. 

It’s late, around midnight, last you checked. The spaghetti dinner left on the table you had cooked had long gone cold. The Baratie had closed hours ago and Sanji still wasn’t home. 

You sit in complete darkness, the TV is currently rattling off an old rerun of some show you didn’t watch. You’re too tired to get up and find the remote to change the channel so you settle on watching the old comedic sitcom. You’re holding your trusty handkerchief that’s become your best friend in the past months; ready to close around your mouth in an attempt to catch the petals of flowers that’d come up your throat every so often. 

Your eyes glaze over the screen when you hear the door creak open. Footsteps were heard as a soft clatter sounded throughout the room from Sanji setting his keys down on the counter. 

You sit up slowly, in an effort to prohibit any intense coughing. 

Your eyes meet Sanji’s surprised ones, “You’re still awake? It’s late, you should go to bed.” he looks away. 

“You missed dinner.” You look over at Sanji’s form, he’s stiff, you note.

“I stayed late to help close, sorry we can reschedule.” He brushes you off swiftly.

“Was she there?” The argument had already begun, why not fuel it some more?

Sanji whips his head at you, an incredulous look gracing his features. “Who are you talking about?” Acting dumb was never a good look on him. 

Your tired eyes stare at him, “I know you’re spending time with her.” The venom in your tone was palpable.

You were over the lies. You were over the constant tiptoeing between each other, you’re honestly surprised he still even decided to come over. It would have been better for him to stay at his place and just call you in the morning to tell his lie. 

He has balls, you’ll give him that.

“Do you even love me anymore?”  

The silence that surrounded the room was upsetting. Of course, he didn’t, who were you fooling? You had all the proof you needed in all of the trashcans around your house, discarded tissues soaked in blood, and petals filled the bins.

Sanji scoffs, “I don’t know what you want from me.” He doesn't answer the question, “Why are you asking if I love you, you're being needy.” He stares at you before continuing, “If you don’t trust me,” he looks away, “Then maybe we should break up.” With a tone of finality, he turns around and walks toward the door, the sound of it shutting echoing throughout the house.

You’re left alone in the silence, the ticking of the clock on the wall muffling your coughs that were accompanied by flowers and blood. 

♡‧₊˚

With the new development of the blooms coming out of your throat, you felt defeated. You’re not sure what you did in a past life to deserve this. You didn’t wish this on anyone, it was a lonely and awful feeling, physically and emotionally. 

You’ve gotten used to your condition. It had been a month since you’d seen Sanji after he had broken things off and in that month, you would constantly find yourself leaning over the toilet bowl, hacking up blood and flower blooms. 

You finally had the courage to look up what you assumed was hanahaki disease. It was a rare condition, but you were certain that was what was causing you pain. The only cure was to have surgery that resulted in the patient forgetting about whomever they had loved. That you’d act as if nothing had happened, that you’d live in ignorance bliss afterward. 

Sacrificing your heart for your life. 

After that month, you had decided to go to a coffee shop forcing yourself to get out of the house and do something. 

So you went to Sanji’s favorite coffee shop. 

Why you had put yourself through that? You weren't sure.

You remember wrapping your hand around the door handle, ready to walk in when a wisp of light auburn hair had caught your attention inside the cafe. 

There she was. Pudding. The girl who had replaced you. The one who had captivated Sanji’s attention in a way you could only dream of.

Sanji stood beside her, you were certain he couldn't see you from inside, his attention was fully on Pudding’s face, absorbing whatever story she had been telling him. 

He had never looked at you like that.

Did he ever love you? Were you that stupid to even see the truth? Had it been there all along and you were simply too blind to notice?

An “excuse me” had brought you back to reality and had you rushing back to your apartment in hopes of not bumping into Sanji or Pudding. You weren't sure your heart could take it if you were forced to talk to them.

After that defeat you noticed that you were no longer hacking up petals, but fully blossomed flowers, you couldn’t walk for a long distance without wheezing, the flowers constricting your airways preventing you from wanting to do anything. You knew you were nearing the final stage, soon roots were going to begin to show up, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go to a doctor. You had read that the longer you kept this from being treated, you’d enter the point of no return. 

So, you simply waited.

Your mind was reeling. You never wanted to stop loving Sanji. You didn’t care about the pain that it brought you. 

You don’t care that you still long to have Sanji tell you that he loves you. To tell you and for you not to immediately have to turn away and cough up blood and flowers. 

You missed him. You yearned for him.

After Nami had found out why you and Sanji broke up, she went on a rant about how she was going to kill him, on how he could have done this to you. You weren't sure if you had ever seen her get so angry before. 

But even after that, you confessed that you still loved him. 

She proceeded to call you insane, but she simply didn’t understand. She didn’t know about how his eyes would sparkle when he would go on about a new recipe that he developed and how he was certain that it was going to be the new hit at the Baratie. She didn’t know how bashful he got when you complimented him on his food. How he’d kiss you like how it was the first time you were kissing each other.

You loved him. And you would forever love him.

But he haunted your life. Leaving you lying at night, not even allowing you to find comfort in your dreams since he haunted those too. When you’d close your eyes you could only mourn for the love that once was. To mourn for him even though he was alive and well, but could you say the same for yourself?

You had long accepted that you were going to die. If anything, you willed it. Never did you want to forget your love for Sanji. The idea that you would never be able to recall how he made your heart pound every time he’d look at you, would be a nightmare.

But you were tired. 

In the months after the cafe incident you would go through phases where the pain would turn to anger, cursing Sanji, wishing you two had never met, wishing that Nami had never introduced you too. 

But the anger would never stay directed towards Sanji. It would always circle back to you. And anger would turn to pity and pity would turn to sadness. 

You wanted to cry and scream at the sky, to yell at the world, to question why love felt this way. Why couldn't he just love you back, why were you being punished for simply loving him unconditionally?

You suffocate yourself in the love that you have for Sanji. Sacrificing your every breath to simply feel the true and fierce love you felt for him. You’d cry until you were gasping for air, til you were choking up flowers that were clogging your lungs. You wished, begged, for it to go away. Wishing that you had never fallen for him. 

But even with all the pain he caused you. You could never hate him.

You could never hate Sanji.

You can’t even bring yourself to hate Pudding, it wasn't her fault that Sanji was infatuated with her rather than you.

And you could never truly hate him for that.

The sterile white walls and the smell of disinfectant wafting through the air brought you back to reality. 

Recalling how hours before Nami had found you on the ground of your bathroom, post-hacking your brains out from the various blooms of flowers that rose from your throat at what seemed like at every hour of the day as of recently. You hadn’t heard her call for you when she entered your apartment so you weren’t able to hide anything from her. 

“Are you insane?” Her voice ricocheted in the bathroom after you had explained to her what had been happening to you for the last couple of months.

You were numb the entire car ride to the hospital as Nami yelled at you for being so careless. 

“Why are you letting that boy kill you?” 

Why were you? 

Why were you putting yourself through this pain, knowing he would never love you again?

The recent memory reminded you of Nami’s presence on the side chair that was placed beside the crunchy bed you were currently sitting on. Her brown eyes met yours and smiled softly at you. 

“You’re gonna be okay.” Nami’s attempt at reassurance was comforting to you for 5 seconds before the door swung open revealing the doctor. 

“Hello,” she said your name, “you’re the one with hanahaki disease, correct?” You glance over at Nami before replying to the doctor in confirmation. “Well, unfortunately, it has been developing for a while and if you had come just a little bit later it would have been untreatable, so I highly suggest proceeding with the procedure as soon as possible.”

Your hands grew clammy. This was it. You were going to be relieved from this grueling life you had found yourself in. You would finally be able to go back to normal. 

Normal. 

Would it truly be normal if you didn’t love Sanji anymore? Could you truly live with yourself knowing that you gave up the one thing that has been keeping you going? You guess you wouldn’t actually remember your love for him if you did the surgery but your heart would know. Your soul would know. 

You wished that all of this pain would go away. Longing to run back to Sanji, for him to stop the anguish that you felt. To have him whisper that he loved you and for you to not cough up flowers anymore. To know that he truly meant the words that he was saying.

You wondered how your life would have gone if you had never fallen for Sanji. Would your life still lead you to this very moment of hell that you’re living currently? You would think that hell would be hot, blazing with heat, but all you felt was the coldness of lies that you believed that spewed from Sanji’s lips when he spoke to you. 

You would like to think that you wished you had never fallen into this trap. That your heart never fell for him, but you knew better. You knew that he had your heart from the beginning. You were doomed from the first interaction.

Wasn’t it a true act of love if you could let the person go? Wouldn’t it be the final seal of approval of your love if you went through with the surgery? The love that you felt for Sanji would be proven by this simple act. 

You felt Nami’s hand grab yours. Her eyes were filled with remorse, a sadness that you could distinguish as the same sadness that you saw in your eyes ever since that first petal came to be.

Anticipatory grief.

She was grieving your love for him already, grieving for your heart, how you would never love again, how you would never love him again.

You sigh. 

♡‧₊˚

You wake up to the soft murmurs of the television in the corner of the room. 

Your mind was hazy, from what, you weren't entirely sure yet. It felt as if you had lost something like it was on the tip of your tongue, but you just couldn’t think of exactly what it was.

Guess it wasn’t important.

Your eyes wander over to your surroundings, the hospital room is bare except for the basic, usual furniture. Your eye caught movement out of the corner of your eye, turning your face to examine what it was.

A balloon with the words “Get well soon!” fills your vision, and your gaze scans over the hearts that surround the bubble letters in bright yellow hues. You reach over the side table to grab the card that sat under the balloon. 

Hope you feel better - Nami.

Sad that you had missed your friend, you made a mental note to pay her a visit after you were discharged from the hospital to thank her.

A soft knock echoed throughout the room, your attention to the door opening revealing the doctor. “Hi, glad you’re awake. The procedure was a success. You should be good to go soon, but take it easy for the next two weeks.”

The procedure.

You quickly scour your brain for answers of who it was you loved but came up short. 

Guess that was the point, wasn’t it? 

Before you could thank the doctor, rushed footsteps were heard outside the room, hasty knocks piercing the air along with the clamor of the door opening quickly. 

Sanji’s blond hair comes into view, and he stands, wide-eyed, near the doorframe. He was panting slightly, a sign that he possibly had been running before he got here. 

He says your name quietly, the doctor gives you a nod before excusing herself from the room to give you guys privacy. 

“Sanji,” you smile brightly at him, “Did you get off of work? Why are you here?”

His eyes shift over to the balloon on the stand beside the bed. “Nami told me about the…procedure.”

“Really?” you roll your eyes teasingly, “It’s not that big of a deal honestly, that Nami. Always the worrier, thank you for visiting me though, you’re a good friend, Sanji.” You look away before you can notice Sanji’s face falling. 

You look back at him, “Oh, could you take me home? I probably shouldn’t be driving right now.” you laugh quietly and scan Sanji’s face. His mind seemed to be somewhere else, perhaps he was really busy at the restaurant. “If you can, if not I’ll just call Nami.” 

“No,” he clears his throat, “Yeah I can take you home.” 

You offer him a smile, “Thanks, hey I think I may have to fill out some paperwork. Could you grab it while I go change?” You begin to stand up slowly before he rushes over to help you up.

You look up at him to thank him again when you realize his eyes are watering. 

Weird. 

Your eyebrows knit in worry, “Hey, are you okay?”

He blinks rapidly while looking away from you. His hand lets go from his grasp on your arm and runs it through his blonde hair while turning away from you. “Yeah, I’m fine.” he coughs, “Uh, I’m gonna go look for those papers.”

He walks out of the room before you can respond, leaving you slightly confused but you shake it off before you begin to look for your clothes. 

You don’t see Sanji standing outside the doorway, coughing up a flower petal. 

[italoniponic]

Long Live the Brother | Kingscholar brothers

Synopsis: Since Cheka was born, Falena became more aware of the fact that he wouldn’t live forever. Whenever he falls asleep in his most stressful days, he has this strange nightmare about a gorge and a stampede. As years pass by, the dream has gained more details to its story. Cheka is in danger and Leona is close to Falena, but he can’t help him — because he doesn’t want to.

Falena needs to do something about this premonition. As little as it seems to be.

kingscholar brothers / angst with hopeful ending / Lion King references / minor tamashina mina setting / ft. mention of ocs / 4,5k words / Masterlist

Notes: It’s been a while since I last talked about doing this fic but it’s finally here, folks. *sighs in tiredness* well, I asked people to vote for a type of ending so it took me a long time to write it all and come to a conclusion that felt… proper. Like, there’s room for good things to come, certainly. Hope you enjoy it!

Long Live the Brother

Falena knows he won’t live forever. It seems kind of obvious, especially when it comes to Afterglow Savannah’s oldest teaching: “we are part of the cycle of life.” It’s part of the birth-to-death cycle. Helping others in life and giving life to nature itself when one dies. To become grass, to be a spirit in the stars.

Falena thought about this a lot, especially on some extraordinary occasions in his life: the birth of Leona, the strong illness of their father and, even more strongly, on the birth of Cheka.

The kingdom’s people — among servants, guards and subjects — got used to the charismatic image of Falena. To them, the then-young king was brave and imposing, his strong smile shining brighter than the sunlight on the golden savannah. And it wasn’t a lie at all.

But there were things that troubled Falena’s mind many times. Shadows that have haunted him since the crown was placed on his head.

He was so young at the time and the books he had read during his education weren’t enough to guide his journey in the real world, where brilliant theories could fail at the first unpredictable element of nature. His father was also too debilitated to give any advice. Sometimes he barely recognized where he was in his own room.

Falena could only thank Heavens for having Maisha by his side, she being his most precious support all these years.

The couple had ruled together since they got married. They hit and missed all the obstacles in life together. Maisha was the only confidant that Falena could truly let go of his saddest thoughts and worries. She didn’t demand from him any perfection of his royalty. Maisha would let him just talk to her and it was those moments that made him happiest.

That had been their dynamic since they met at a diplomatic ball a long time ago. The then-prince purposely hid himself from Kifaji just to show the stars to the princess who befriended him.

And it was a mutual, strong feeling. Maisha wouldn’t trade Falena for anyone. Her love was true, overcoming any circumstances and problems they encountered along the way. Proof of this was the birth of Cheka. 

It was an unforgettable day. The kingdom celebrated it as if it were the sunrise after a long period of darkness, the rain after a long period of drought. Both of them were so happy with their little cub. Falena thought of Cheka as the light in his difficult life as king. Unfortunately, with the King’s health worsening, Falena found himself again thinking about life and death.

The shadows gained strength and that’s when the nightmares began.

It wasn’t constant dreams. They appeared mainly after a long and stressful day. When everything seemed about to fall apart, when the difficulties of the kingdom weighed on Falena’s shoulders.

It started simply with him lost in a crowd. People were running over each other, everyone was confused and frightened — and he was being slaughtered by all of them, trampled underfoot.

Then it switched to something else. Falena heard Cheka’s screams and desperately ran to save him. Sometimes he managed to get the little boy to a safe place on the rocks. Other times, they didn’t survive. But in either scenario, Falena would lose his life.

No matter what he did or how hard he tried, everything or only his life slipped through his hands. His son’s screams would turn to tears as Falena collapsed into his own unconscious sleep. It was tortuous. He wanted to answer his little one, to say that everything would be fine — but in what voice? With what kind of force?

As time passed, a new character came to his dreams: Leona. 

He almost always stood aside, just watching the scene unfold in front of him. But sometimes it was he who first warned him of the danger that Cheka was in, and with this, Falena ended up finding himself in the midst of that frightened crowd.

Whenever he woke up from these nightmares, Falena usually took a deep breath and tried to comfort himself in the fact that if something happened to him, Leona could take care of Cheka and Maisha in his place. Without a doubt, he would leave the kingdom safely in the hands of his younger brother. 

There was no other person Falena wouldn’t trust with his own life and that of the people he loved most.

Then, at a certain point, that nightmare repeated itself.

Falena had managed to lead Cheka to the rocks, away from the tumultuous crowd where he could be safer. But he himself fell among the stampede again. In a last effort, Falena jumped up and clung to a high rock.

Relief washed over his face when he saw Leona on top of that very stone, safe enough to pull him away from danger.

“Leona...! Brother! Help me!,” Falena pleaded.

But Leona only gave a contemptuous smile in response. With all the calmness in the world, he crouched down and dug his nails into the knuckles of Falena’s hands, making him scream in pain. 

  “Long live the king,” then Leona gave a long and dangerous smile like he had never given before, looking deep into his older brother’s eyes.

Falena felt afraid of the shade of green in Leona’s eyes. Green in the shade of poison, pure burning sulfur. He wasn’t his brother. Leona wasn’t like that! In front of him was just the picture others painted of him.

Falena heard so many times from the servants that this was who his brother was going to become. A corrupt, envious boy who would bring drought and disgrace to the kingdom. It couldn’t be! Leona wasn’t like that. He would never hurt Cheka, nor anyone. 

Or would he? 

Suddenly the pain in his hands had stopped. The distance between them increased. Was Falena falling? Leona no longer held him. He was watching his fall with a dark, victorious look. A scream was heard in the distance. Falena has never heard the word “no” pronounced so painfully before.

He wasn’t sure if it was coming out of his own mouth because the voice he was hearing was from Cheka. But Falena kept falling until he finally hit the ground and thousands of feet passed over him. The pain of being trampled on was nothing compared to his heart being shattered inside.

Falena didn’t want the crown if it meant leaving his son and wife alone. He never wanted to. 

Before he knew it, he had already left his brother once. He didn’t want to leave him again. 

His voice grew faint before the noise of the stampede above him. Both when he was young and when observing his kingdom, it was the only time when the people’s voice surpassed his light. What began with the servants losing patience with the young second prince, turned into real complaints and fear with his magic.

Falena didn’t know what to say to them. His brother was young, that was all. But as Leona seemed to worsen in behavior, Falena lost the basis to defend him. And with the accumulation of royal responsibilities, he lost sense of time.

One day, Leona was already a full-fledged teenager who didn’t have the slightest motivation to do anything. The chess that Falena taught him with great joy became a game that his brother played alone — because he had no one by his side and no one wanted to be near him. Leona acted as if he were a stranger in the palace, a being who didn’t belong there.

But he was part of the cycle, he was a vital member of the family. Falena still held that truth in his heart. At the end of the day, he didn’t have more time to bring him back? Was their bond already broken beyond repair?

What would be left of all this would be for Leona to let him fall over the abyss of death, more than content to see the color of his eyes shine for one last time? 

“Dad!”

Then Falena woke up. He was alive after all. His heart was pounding hard enough to be sure of it. The sun shone brighter than ever through the office window. He should have fallen asleep unintentionally. His rest time has been getting worse lately. Everywhere he went he had a problem to solve, and if he ever stopped to rest, he felt guilty for it.

But there was Cheka holding his arm tightly, jumping endlessly with excitement. His eyes let out sparks of joy. It was almost nostalgic — at one point, in a room full of books, another boy called his brother to take a break from his studies and talk to him a little bit.

“Dad! Uncle Leona arrived with friends!,” the little prince announced happily. “Can Naru and I play with them? Can we?”

Seeing Cheka smiling gave some cheer to Falena’s poor suffering heart, though the mention of his brother couldn’t have come at a worse time.

“Go with Monti and Zakki to talk to your uncle. I... I’m going soon.” 

“Okay!”

“Ah! Cheka!”

The boy stopped in his tracks when his father called his name, his orange hair with yellow edges swirling like rays of midday sun. He was the perfect blend of his parents, a gift from Heavens to them. Falena took him in his lap and kissed his forehead.

“I love you, son. Be careful, okay?,” he asked. His voice was a little hoarse.

“I love you too, dad!,” Cheka kissed his father’s cheek. “And don't worry! I’ll be with uncle Leona.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of...”

Maisha entered at the right moment when Cheka ran out of the office. She had overheard part of the conversation. And her worry only worsened when she saw her husband’s forlorn countenance. 

Falena held his face in his hands, trying to catch his breath. He couldn’t believe what he’d just thought about his own brother. His stomach felt heavy and empty at the same time. He was feeling bad in so many different ways that he didn’t even know where to start. His thoughts collided like an onslaught of hyenas, tearing at his flesh and gnawing at his bones.

“It was that nightmare again?” 

The desolate king felt his wife’s hand massaging his shoulder, conveying comfort and solace. Falena raised his eyes to Maisha, her presence always welcomed on any occasion.

She went around the chair where her husband sat to be closer to him, and he held her waist, resting his head on her belly as he did at the time when she was pregnant with their precious son. His hair of a strong and intense orange cascaded down, confusing itself with the dress of the finest fabric that his queen wore. 

Maisha caressed Falena’s head, patiently waiting for him to find words to express himself.

She never rushed or pressured him. She knew it wouldn’t do any good. Few queens in the world could say that they loved their husband so much that they wouldn’t mind supporting them unconditionally as Maisha had done for a long time.

They never changed, they just got stronger together. Maisha had the same long, naturally slightly grayish-beige hair with strong yellow tips and the kind, wise caramel-colored eyes she had when she was young. The eyes Falena most wanted to face at the moment.

The time that passed wasn’t as long as it felt. For Falena, it seemed like an eternity before he told Maisha every single thing that happened in his nightmare. When the story came to an end, husband and wife stared at each other in deep silence. 

“I failed Leona... terribly,” Falena sighed. “I’d let them say what they wanted of him…”

“Falena, dear. You always defended him the best you could, I know that. Leona... actually, you two are very complicated. All this palace’s life is. What they subjected to a fifteen year old and a five year old boy is unforgivable,” Maisha said.

“But there’s nothing else we can do.”

The woman bit her lip. She understood the feeling well, those shadows that haunted her husband. That’s what she was most afraid of, too. She had known Leona for a long time and, luckily, he came to respect her more than anyone in his life. 

However, respect was still too little to meet him in the desert and drive him back home. Maisha didn’t just want to be Leona’s sister-in-law. She wanted to be his older sister. But he despised his own brother by blood, so what would she — as the family’s outsider — needed to do wrong to fall into the same bad graces?

“What can you offer a man who has everything but wants nothing?,” Maisha suddenly thought out loud. 

And Falena grasped this thought as if it were dry leaves that the wind brought in the afternoon. The royal spiritual adviser, Chinaza, once said that those said leaves were messages from the Kings of the Past — and in reality, the old baboon wasn’t so far from the truth.

With the words of his wife in mind, the king began to think calmly about everything. Over the years, he offered Leona various kinds of gifts. Books, chess boards, expensive items of clothing, dinners with his favorite meats and everything else he had at his disposal to give to his precious brother. It wasn’t just charity. He knew Leona deserved it all.

But it must have looked fake in the young man’s eyes. Deep down — and the nightmare didn’t help this feeling — Leona should despise all these gestures. 

It felt like Falena was patching up the past, as if all they had been through was an old tapestry that just needed extra thread.

“What is the one thing that a man who despises all things, because he feels himself to be despised, most wants?,” Falena asked back as he got up and looked out the window.

They were at the highest point of the palace, from where they could see the whole kingdom and everything that the light could touch. Maisha rested her head on Falena’s shoulder and he leaned on her equally, both with their gaze lost in the horizon.

“I have no idea, my love,” the wife replied.

“I think I know what to do... well, I think” Falena swallowed hard. “It’s not much and I honestly don’t know how much Leona will like or understand it…”

“What are you talking about?”

“Our father used to say that diplomatic apologies require more than an emotional and well-crafted text. That’s not what touches people. It’s the process, the small steps you take along the way. If you never cross the desert, you will never come home.”

“Alas, you ramble a lot sometimes,” Maisha said but began to smile as she saw her husband’s face recover its grace. “Will you start with the small steps then?”

Falena took a deep breath, filling himself with courage. He would. 

Better late than never.

If anything, Leona’s patience could be more succinctly described as a worn-out tapestry. 

It had interesting embroidered drawings, making smooth lines on thick thread and had the colors of the sunset. In the old days, it had impressive strength. But he couldn’t say the same in the present though. A lion cub had snatched the edge and began to tear it apart, leaving bristles exposed and easy to fray.

Which settled Jack to be the only one — by their side at the moment — who was actually concerned about the dorm leader wanting to rip apart his own nephew running around him in a fit of pure childish energy. 

Meanwhile, Kalim was distracted by all the beautiful landscapes around them in the huge palace. Naru, the lioness-friend of the little prince, was explaining everything to him — and on certain occasions, she would take a look at her best friend and smile at him having fun. 

But, perhaps, what was doing more harm to Leona’s nerves was the indescribable delight in which Lilia and Vil were watching them near the balcony. They both had different kinds of smiles but seemed equally amused by his look of distress.

Was that Leona’s penance for being himself in the NRC? Or were they joining life’s queue to piss him off?

“Cheka!,” suddenly a powerful voice made its entrance. 

“Dad!” 

Leona had his chair turned away from the entrance, but as he turned around, he was for a very brief moment happy with his brother’s arrival. All to get Cheka away from him, especially. 

He then took a look at the colleagues he brought along and observed their reactions of respect and admiration at the arrival of the king. He wasn’t particularly impressed himself. 

Falena might be the most imposing “Lion King” in all of Afterglow Savannah’s history but Leona would always see him as his annoyingly enthusiastic older brother.

“Dear friends!,” Falena greeted the boys with a smile. “Could you let me steal Leona for a moment?”

This was such a surprise that the second prince turned his head back.

“Oh, we don’t mind, Your Majesty,” Vil spoke for the group, smiling politely.

Leona rolled his eyes. It was like he was being handed over like a pesky stray cat off someone’s backyard. 

Jack was thinking of a form to add any type of positive comments — to at least take that very impression out of the room — but he remained silent as the dorm leader assured him in a simple hand gesture that it wasn’t necessary. 

Falena noticed this as his brother stood up. Every one of them had their own opinions on Leona. Well, mixed opinions it seemed. Personally, he would like to know how his little brother was doing at Night Raven College — but he would have to wait a bit longer to hear about Leona’s school adventures. 

Falena waved a goodbye to Cheka and Naru, leaving them in the hands of their caretakers, the meerkat-man chamberlain Monti and the warthog-man cook — who also acted as the little prince’s personal aide — Zakki, and the remaining boys. 

Then the brothers left the balcony and walked through the halls in complete silence. No one dared disturb their course. Even a falling leaf could be heard in the distance.

After a few minutes of walking beside his brother without facing him, Leona eventually realized that they were walking through more and more empty corridors inside the palace. Places he almost forgot existed. It seemed that they had crossed the entire construction when Falena opened for him a door hidden behind a large dark red wall-tapestry.

Behind the secret passage, there was a large field that was part of the royal estate but remained in the shadow of the towers and higher floors. Further away, Leona recognized a part of the field with a large tree as the marking for the Cemetery of the Kings of the Past. 

“Why did you bring me here?,” he finally spoke to his brother, although he had a confused frown on his brows.

“It's a quiet, peaceful place,” Falena said. “Because it’s the Royal Cemetery, anyone who does not consider here an inhospitable place certainly knows that it is sacred so even servants and guards would never think of looking for a secret passage or opening the door.” 

“So what?” 

“I wish you could find rest here.”

Because Leona had a tremendously surprised expression, Falena added quickly:

“N-no! I’m not talking to you to rest forever here! No way! Please don’t even think...!,” then he took a deep breath to recompose himself. “What I mean, Leona, is that here it will be much easier to hide from the palace than in your room. Cheka is terribly afraid of those hallways, even if he won’t admit it.”

It was Leona’s turn to take a deep breath and facepalm, bewildered by that whole situation. He had not confused Falena’s words — though, come to think of it, it would indeed be a strange thing to say normally — and remained in the dark as to why he was being introduced to that place.

“Are you letting me stay here? Is that it?,” Leona questioned.

“Yes. Consider it my holiday gift.”

“Have you... gone insane? Is the crown so heavy that you hit your head on the floor one of these days?”

Falena bit his tongue, trying not to be discouraged in his convictions, nor to let himself be contaminated by the acidity of his brother’s words.

Leona could be an excellent diplomat when he wanted. Emphasis on “when he wanted”. But what was occurring at the present moment was no disaster of etiquette. It was how Leona usually talked to his older brother. 

Sarcasm and irony were always at their peak. Boredom dictated the harmony of his voice. And, above all, resentment oozed through the thorniest sentences like burning sulfur. 

Falena could feel it more than ever. They weren’t just brothers who couldn’t get along like normal families had. There was a large scar between them, completely exposed and fragile. 

There was no point in pressing mere band-aids there, hoping to disappear with the cut. Something needed to be done to improve the healing process and not allow inflammations. It would be painful and difficult. However, wasting time was no longer on Falena’s mind. If he were going to stop the blood, he should do it now.

It was then Leona felt something different when Falena looked up at him. 

Anyone who might have had the chance to observe them — however deserted the place was — might have seen the reflection of the king’s normally radiant countenance. However, only his young brother was close enough to understand that it wasn’t his usual glow.

“I gave you many gifts and allowed you to do whatever you wanted in a clumsy and vain hope that... “Falena sighed but kept going. “...things could be arranged. But it’s not that simple. In fact, by trying to please you, I was making the situation worse. But Leona...!”

His voice grew stronger, pouring out all its honesty like good rain in the midst of drought and desolation.

“I don’t know what to do, that’s the truth! Maybe I’ll never know. If our father was still well, I could try to take his advice... but all this damage is already done. You walk in and out of here with your head held high but with a terrible feeling in your heart. Like this it’s not even your home.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth. You don’t know how I feel,” Leona looked away, annoyed.

“Of course I don’t know! You don’t tell me!”

So Leona turned to Falena again, torn between putting the matter aside or contesting it in the adrenaline rush that awoke in his heart. Actually, he wasn’t sure what to answer. And as if Falena could finally after all those years read his little brother’s thoughts, he smiled softly.

“Talk about it when you feel the time has come. It doesn’t even have to be with me, if you don’t want to. For now, a place of silence and comfort is all I can indicate to you.”

“Indicate?”

“Yeah. Because you are still the Prince of the Savannah. You have rights like any of our bloodline,” Falena touched Leona’s shoulder and looked deep into his brother’s green eyes. “You can come here whenever you want. You always could.”

A strong breeze passed by the brothers but they didn’t move even a flinch. Small leaves of various colors, dust and the familiar smell of the savannah continued on its way, as if it were a ghost of one of the Kings of the Past who wanted to spy on the strange scene unfolding there on sacred territory.

Gently, Falena’s hand left Leona and joined his other hand. He wasn’t feeling cowed at least. On the contrary, he was satisfied for the first time with an action he did. His smile didn’t waver.

“Well, if you want to take a break, I’ll let your friends know and…”

“Falena,” Leona called.

He mirrored his older brother’s expression with his words. For a moment, Leona felt like a child again. Not in the sense of feeling small and powerless. But, as it was in the old days. The good times when things were in their place and Falena still had time to afford to teach him to play chess.

“Thanks. Or something like that.”

Leona stared at a distant spot in the landscape, not looking directly into Falena’s eyes. 

He didn’t feel ready yet for that type of situation and had doubts about his brother’s intentions. He never thought he would say that, but hanging out with his classmates and holding his own patience seemed much easier than dealing with the scars of the past.

But something inside him knew that Falena understood what he was doing. It could be a part that Leona hid from his own peripheral vision on purpose, almost always to the point of completely forgetting its existence. Yet it was still there inside him.

“But I’ll have to leave it for another time. I have to lead a pack of warthogs’ backsides to a festival, remember?,” Leona retorted, going back to the exit. “Later. Who knows.”

Falena let out a laugh that made his brother stop for a moment. He looked like he was going to comment on something but then gave up.

“Well, always feel welcome. And I’ll be watching it all from somewhere. Above all: have fun, Leona!”

And then, Falena gave the biggest smile Leona had ever seen before. Perhaps it wasn't just an impression that his aura of majesty was different. It wasn’t like it got any worse, though. 

It was as if an immense weight had left Falena’s shoulders and he rejuvenated like the dawn sun as he reached for his little brother’s step. They continued without saying anything on the way back, following the path in a very rare and comfortable silence. 

It was the first step towards a new ending.

Falena also felt a different energy coming from Leona and his gaze accompanied him throughout the visit, questioning within himself how people couldn’t even see the resplendent light coming from Leona. Or maybe they did — it was his final conclusion — and they didn’t know what to make of it.

But Falena knew. And he felt a deep joy to have a younger brother like Leona. Smart and strategic, able to stand on his own two feet, courageous. Even friendly — although the boy didn’t like to admit it. 

  For the first time in a long time, Falena could have a peaceful night of starry dreams. He never had that nightmare again. He was dreaming of a bright future ahead. Some moment in time when Leona could feel happy doing whatever he wanted. Where Cheka would be a wonderful king and Maisha would still be there by his side.

And Falena would live long to see all this.

Special notes: Uh, I haven’t actually watched anything from the Tamashina Mina event so I don’t even know if they acknowledge Falena’s presence at some point. But this is what I think happened. And I feel particularly relieved about writing this story bc I love Falena due to my memories of Mufasa. I don’t think canon will ever prove me wrong but even so, this is the version of good ol’ Falena that I love the most <3 Thank you for the attention!

[kimthwariru]

Like the wind

pairing: Taehyung x reader

(+Jungkook)

genre: smut, enemies to lovers, angst, collage au, rich kid!Taehyung

Masterpost

Chapter 3: flashbacks

You were used to having cold showers by now. You’d first tried it when you’d read on some health site that it was supposed to help with skin and stress. You didn’t know about the skin part, but you truly felt way more relaxed when you showered with cold water. You’d get so distracted with how cold it was, that there was no time to overthink—a task you often did while showering. Something you truly did not need right now.

Because there was a list of questions in your head waiting to be checked out. Questions you had no answers to, and would probably never get.

Why was Kim Taehyung such an asshole?

Why did he act the way he did?

Why did he fuck you over like that?

How can someone place a bet over who they’re fucking?

That dude was disgusting, but what was worse was the fact that, for mere moments, you’d fallen for his lies. You thought that maybe, there was something there. That maybe that boy you’d met years ago was starting to resurface.

But no. Kim Taehyung was a fucking monster who didn’t care about anyone’s feelings but his own.

Frustration clawed at your chest as you closed your eyes under the ice cold water.

Your mind travels to Marloom 4 years ago, a port near Outfield where fishermen and boat crew mostly lived. It was probably the poorest region outside the wall, which was why you were so surprised when you saw Taehyung there, sitting at the edge of the deck, his bare feet brushing along the waves. He was like a picture.

“y/n!” He’d called out “check this out” he’d showed you a book you’d been trying to get your hands on forever which unfortunately, was limited edition and way out of your budget.

“No way!!” You smiled “How did you even manage to get that?”

He shrugged his shoulders “The publishing company works for my dad” he handed it to you “it’s yours”

“You’re kidding!?”

“No, take it. Read it and tell me if it’s worth the trouble.”

“Of course I will. Thanks, Tae”

He smiled at that, but his expression quickly faded into a sad grimace “Hey, are you alright? What are you doing in Marloom anyway?”

“I don’t feel lonely here. Local folks don’t even recognize my face, to them I am just a teenager, not Kim Taehyung, so they will scold me for chasing ducks, yell when I steal the ropes to climb some tree… there’s even an old lady that gives me these vanilla cookies every Sunday, somehow they make me feel less lonely”

You’d basically forgotten that Kim Taehyung was this well known prince of Hashfield that would take his father’s place one day. His face would feature in many magazines. ‘Prince Charming’ was one of the many nicknames given to him by the media, but, to you, he’d always been Tae.

“Did I tell you about the novella I’ve been reading?” You tried to change the subject the minute you saw his eyes turning sad. Today would’ve been a month since his mother had left without even saying goodbye, or where she was going.

“About the knight who doesn’t know whether to speak or die.? I think you told me already.”

Obviously you had mentioned it and forgotten. “Yes.”

“Well, does he or doesn’t he?”

A handsome young knight is madly in love with a princess. And she too is in love with him. Though she seems not to be entirely aware of it.

Despite the friendship the blossoms between them or perhaps because of that very friendship, the young knight finds himself so humbled and speechless

He knows they are from two different worlds. The princess was to marry soon, and he’d be serving the new king until the day he died.

So, despite his feelings, he's totally unable to bring up the subject of his love.

Till one day he asks the princess point blank

Is it better to speak or to die?

“Better to speak, she said. But she’s on her guard. She senses a trap somewhere.” You replied

“So, does he speak?”

“No, he fudges.”

“Figures. People never say what they truly feel”

“If you speak, you risk rejection, or worse. The knight could be exiled from the kingdom. . .But if you don't speak, then you keep the words inside you, you essentially kill them, let them die with you, and you risk nothing. Which one would you choose?”

His honey eyes reached yours and for a second you’d forgotten your name. “I’m not sure which would be more suitable…”

He made a pause.

“To expose your depth and your darkness, to expose the most personal parts of yourself? To present yourself to the world with your skin flipped inside out? Or to keep a fire bubbling within, never unburdening yourself by letting go of the passionate energy pounding in your lungs? To suffocate, never releasing the words from your throat. To die with a legacy or to have your beliefs, mind, thoughts remain unknown, to let your mind leave with your body. A well known library book or a diary that has never been invaded. Realistically, I’d choose to die, but I knew I would regret it later on”

You loved the way his mind worked. The way he’d analyze situations the same way you did. But you couldn’t help but see he was in sorrow, his eyes would wonder around, because maybe if they met yours for too long they’d uncover how hurt he was. “Look I know you don’t wanna talk about it. . .but what you said earlier, about feeling lonely. I feel like that all the time. I’m only saying this because I want you to know you’re really not alone in that feeling. In case you think you are.”

He averted his stare from the sea to your eyes “You know what’s really funny? When I seem to get really lonely you’re the person that happens to be there…and…I guess, I’m lucky for that because you seem to have a soothing effect on me. You know, the things I would normally worry about, they don’t really feel that warring when I talk to you”

Fuck.

You close your eyes and let the water drops his your face. Cold showers were the only thing that prevented you from overthinking, but it looks like this time, your thoughts had taken over.

Taehyung P.O.V

It was cold.

Not that he expected to find warmth and comfort, but he couldn’t help but notice it seemed to be colder than usual. While he walked down the silent corridors, Taehyung wondered when was the last time this house had felt like a home, and not just a shelter with a roof under which he barely existed.

He guesses it was a long time ago. Before his mother had left. The process took him back to a long lost summer, too many years ago, when the walls were still vibrating with life and happiness. That there was even a time in which he had walked barefoot, with just his trunks on in the middle of the winter, without feeling cold, was such a preposterous thought he sometimes wondered whether it had really happened at all, or it was just a fantasy his mind had made up.

It was not a fantasy, and he knew it.

Taehyung knew there was a time he had loved his life, and that he was believed to be destined for greatness. To inherit this big empire his dad had carefully laid out for him.

All bullshit. 

He quickly pushed these pointless thoughts to the corner of his mind where they belonged, to focus on the more pressing matter of why his house had suddenly become as cold as the Antarctic. The answer to that question came when he noticed that every single fireplace was empty.

“Fucking hell” he muttered

It was Maya’s fault - as always - but he couldn’t bring himself to summon their head maid to tell her she had yet again forgotten to light the fire, mostly because it would have just made her cry for thirty minutes, promising him that she’d be more attentive next time. But no matter how many times Maya promised, she always forgot and, to be honest, he didn’t care any more.

Taehyung was conscious this house had long lost its past glory, with the cold that now covered every piece of furniture and treasure his family had been so proud of. He vaguely remembered his father showing off a miniature greek statue of Achilles, whose head was covered in gold, to a distinguished member of the British Royal family, and wondered what his old man would have thought if he knew his son had used the priceless treasure as a target, and had concluded its existence by flinging the remains into the fire.

 After having lit all the fireplaces, he sank heavily into an old velvet armchair and grabbed the bottle on the small table on his left. Not even bothering to acknowledge what it was - honestly it didn’t make any difference - he uncorked it and began to drink straight from the neck.

Irish.

It was definitely Irish whiskey. Although not The Macallan, or perhaps it was just the shittiest bottle ever produced by that brand.

Taehyung took another long swig, Macallan or not it perfectly served its aim. Unfortunately, his busy drinking was interrupted by the sudden appearance of their head maid, Maya.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, sir,” she squeaked in her high-pitched voice, “but mister Logan has come to see you.”

He closed his eyes and set his jaw, mentally cursing his bad luck. “Where is he now?”

“I’m here.”

Logan Everett’s slow deep voice forced Taehyung to lift his eyelids. Time hadn’t been kind to the former Minister of justice, the black of his hair had long ago disappeared to make room for a pure white, his forehead wrinkled and it seemed he needed aid from an emerald embedded cane in order to stand up straight. But time hadn’t been kind to Taehyung either, so he wisely opted to not share his thoughts.

“Hello, uncle Logan” were the words he greeted him with instead, after dismissing Maya with a nod, and before lifting his left arm to offer him the liquor. “Want some? I’m afraid it’s not Macallan but it gets the job done”

Logan twisted his lips into a disapproving grimace as he proceeded to sit on the armchair opposite to him. “It’s 5 o’clock in the afternoon, Taehyung.”

“Do I have to take that as a no, thank you ?”

“Obviously.”

Was it ten years ago? He recalls that’s the last time he’d seen Logan Everett this close. He’d phone Taehyung from time to time, make sure he wasn’t drunk driving himself into a ditch, but other than that, Taehyung’s godfather was nothing but a ghost in his life.

His father’s best friend.

Funny, considering Logan was somewhat of a decent human being, or just, a human being—unlike his father. When his mother was still here, Logan along with his late wife vacationed with them every summer. Taehyung remembers himself running around in Verona, Italy. Logan chasing after him.

It was warm then, unlike now; Taehyung was freezing.

“Is he here? Your father?”

Taehyung took his time to drink again and then shook his head. “No.” Thankfully

“Does he plan to come back soon?”

“As far as I know, he is having the time of his life finalizing some deal in Germany so… no.” He cocked his eyebrows while staring at his Godfather. “What do you need from him?”

To state that the relationship between Logan and his father had deteriorated was an utter underestimation, since the two of them had barely spoken in those long years. When Taehyung had asked why —when he still cared—the cryptic answer Logan gave him was “he destroyed something I cared about”

Nothing surprising there. Ruining others’ lives was his father’s expertise, as Taehyung knew from first hand experience.

“I heard he’s getting you engaged with the Arden family.”

“I’m not getting engaged with anyone” Taehyung replied immediately, taking another sip of Irish while his eyes stayed on the older man.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think it’s your choice to make, kid”

“Uh I’m pretty sure I can’t get engaged if I don’t consent. My dad may be rich but he is not God. Besides, what’s the worst he could do? Exile me from Hashfield? He’d be doing me a favor”

“You’re speaking nonsense” Logan’s hands wrapped around the cane in frustration “Believe it or not, The wall is here to protect you son. To get to the level of wealth your father is right now, he had to make a lot of enemies, powerful people, who would love nothing but his only heir outside the wall, unprotected.”

Every word Logan spoke made less sense than the other “What do you even mean?”

“The less you know the better” There was no hesitation in Logan’s speech. He slowly got up and paced towards Taehyung. Resting a palm in his shoulder “You’re getting older Taehyung, you’re not a little boy anymore.” There was a pause “Get engaged with the Arden Lady. . .people like us, living in our world, we don’t marry for love… but power. We build walls higher than the rest, because we have way more to loose”

The smell of expensive paint, deodorant, high-end perfume, and cigarettes entered your nostrils as you opened the door.

“You need anything madam?” Celine’s maid greeted you, making you feel more out of place than ever. Maids, palaces for homes and stadium like gardens made you question your existence in Hashfield everyday.

“No, thank you” you honeyed your voice. These people were working class—like you. You’ve seen the way insiders treated their staff and it made you sick to your stomach every time, you figure that’s how they’d treat you had you not been accepted into Hashfield College.

“This way, madam”

You look around.

Imagine the interior of the Palace of Versailles—or perhaps those gorgeous buildings in Florence were more like it— gold, marble, mirrors. Large and heavy-looking curtains draped down the sides of the extensive windows and the floor was this sturdy polished oak wood. The contrast between the light colours and the dark ones was just perfectly balanced. It was extraordinarily aesthetically pleasing. You felt so out of your league you thought you’d stain the place.

Underneath all the chemicals you perceived, you could distinguish the smell of wood, which was probably because of the floor. Your eyes glazed over the gorgeous cream-coloured walls, which were decorated with the most awe-inspiring golden ornaments. The place was definitely for the elite. And if the walls weren’t a perfect indication then the silk, ruby red, one of a kind dress Celine was wearing certainly was.

“Y/n!, hey! what’s up?” Jin called you out the minute he laid eyes on you. He’d been extra protective this week, texting you every day to see if you wanted him to bring god damn ice cream like it would make this whole ‘bet’ scandal go away.

It was sweet of him, it really was, but the embarrassment that washed over you when everyone learned about the bet Taehyung had made over who was going to fuck you first, was not going to get better with fucking ice cream.

“Hey guys” you acknowledged everyone in the room. You hadn’t made eye contact with Zed since that night—and you weren’t planning on making any today—your stomach dropped to your knees every time you thought about what had happened.

Kim Taehyung fucked up the relationship between the only insiders you hanged out with.

“Y/n, you know we’ve all been talking about how much of a dick Taehyung is…” Jiyeon started. An apologetic look on her face.

Fucking great.

You specifically had texted Jin about wanting to avoid this situation. He’d promised this would just be a simple hang out with friends, maybe drink a little wine to pass the time and then go back home.

You did not want to talk about the bet that had been placed without your consent. Especially in front of Zed who was swirling his whiskey like it was freaking talking to him.

“What he did was… terrible, he’s always been such an A-hole to girls. But betting over such a thing?” She shook her head “That’s low. Even for him”

“True” added Celine

“Guys. Really. It’s fine” you tried to mask your emotions with a smile “Can we talk about something else?. . . Anything”

• • •

Billie Holiday played softly from the pool radio. Condensation dripped down crystal glasses, and silverware glinted in the bright sunlight. It was a chilly October afternoon, the steady breeze being the perfect interlude.

The chairs were soft, the food was good, and the wine was worth twice your house, but it could only be so comfortable having dinner with a bunch of insiders.

“Anyway, I heard the Arden family is settling matters with The Kim cooparation—”

“Jiyeon.” The word was a low warning from Zed’s spot at the table.

She rolled her eyes and took a deep drink of wine, but she spoke no more.

You couldn’t care less about this conversation. What Taehyung’s father did was none of your business, they could all go drown and you wouldn’t think about it twice—or once— for that matter.

You always pondered Jiyeon’s and Zed’s relationship though. They did appear to find each other annoying, Zed would talk shit about Jiyeon sometimes and so would she. But then you figure, most of these insiders weren’t really friends with each other, they just existed in the same place at the same time. Much like now. Including yourself.

Jin—your only actual friend among these people— was sitting next to you though hadn’t said a word, except for some oddly-timed chuckling. His mind was clearly traveling somewhere else.

Trevor was apparently already devouring his third stake. Making another rude remark towards the house server while downing what seemed to be a liter of Syrah wine all by himself.

And then there was Celine. Whom you knew was the person that tolerated you less from here and didn’t care about not making it obvious.

Celine was your polar opposite. Where you were quiet, she spoke with abandon and laughed loudly. Where you were demure, well . . . she’d stuck her gum to her cloth napkin before eating her pasta, twirling it around the fork at least a hundred times to make sure nothing was getting spilled on her precious dress.

Low chatter and the scraping of silverware filled the yard, but beneath that lay a tense air that wouldn’t dissipate, an uncomfortable vibe the breeze wouldn’t take with it. Everyone seemed to be easily chatting amongst themselves, so maybe it was just you. You tried to brush it off.

Jiyeon —despite Zed’s orders— didn’t stay quiet for long, though she no longer spoke about insider business gossip. She changed the subject to horse racing. That was an acceptable conversation many joined in on.

However you couldn’t help but think about the question Taehyung had made.

“Why are you here?”

Why were you here? Hashfield is a cold shallow place that’s filled with people you don’t like. Their view of the world was so superficial, human relationships were glib, basically meaningless. No one cared what values their friend had, as long as they had more than five cars on their parking lot.

You couldn’t be more different. Your favourite literary period was the Romantic for crying out loud. . .and it was the same for music and art. There was something about the music from the Romantic period which enamoured you. Genuine emotions came through the music. Every time you listened to Chopin, something rooted inside you pushed you to dance. Perhaps the expressiveness, emotions, and escapism were the factors that drew you towards the Romantic period. You wanted to waltz through a room, carefree. Your body moving along to one of Chopin’s masterpieces instead of sitting across from a bunch of insiders.

Maybe you were a coward, but you were glad you didn’t have to sit near Zed. You were carrying out this carefree facade all evening and had a polite response for anything—as inappropriate as the comments could sometimes be when insiders were drinking—but with him, words were at a loss for you. You felt tongue-tied around him, tilted off your point of gravity, and truthfully just embarrassed, as though a blush permanently warmed your skin. It might be unpleasant speaking to him, but it was too easy to look in his direction.

You cringed as you recall what had happened.

-One week ago, Clair’s party-

Your mother used to smoke at the kitchen table in her nightgown after she and your father would scream the house down. So, naturally, you’d picked up her habit of smoking during stressful times.

With your cheeks burning in anger and the cigarette in your hand, it wasn’t lost on you that the apple really doesn’t fall that fucking far from the tree. Kim Taehyung was a fucking asshole just like his father was rumored to be. But for whatever reason, you realize that you’re more mad at yourself for thinking the opposite for even a second.

You closed your eyes and mentally cursed at yourself when you saw Zed approach you.

“Kim Taehyung” Zed’s voice was a low growl “What a fucking idiot”

“Yeah Zed, I know. That bet was stupid and embarrassing and I’m sorry you got dragged down into it-“

“I mean—is he out of his mind? If I was really trying to fuck you I’d be working much harder, trust me. . . Who does he think he is? He thinks he’s better than me or something?”

Wow.

That was definitely not the reaction you were expecting. Zed was a fucking idiot. He’s obviously intoxicated— but you like to call alcohol the truth serum, so yeah, fuck him.

“Oh really? That’s what you’re so mad about? That you think you could fuck me first?” you let anger sip into your tone

Zed’s eyes widened in embarrassment when he realized his tongue had run faster than his brain “No, y/n look—“ he stammered “all I’m saying is he shouldn’t have placed that bet alright? I mean, I wouldn’t want to fuck you anyway”

You gave him a deadly stare

“That came out wrong! I’m sorry—all I’m trying to say is-“

“Honestly, I bet that whatever you’re trying to say isn’t even important, so how about you get out of my sight?”

Why was it such a surprise to you that Zed was as much of an asshole as the others?

You kept feeling naive lately.

Lunch continued with meaningless chatter, good food and drink, but the tension never dissipated. It sat there, uninterrupted. Like an echo before the words were even spoken.

You remember the first time you met Mina and Namjoon. They were both decently shy kids that gravitated towards each other because their mums were best friends. Seokjin came on later in the picture, Mina was skeptical about him at first because he was an insider, but his true colors surfaced and everyone realized he was a decent human being unlike the rest of them. Eventually, you four became close and the rest was history.

“Feels good to party outside the wall after so long huh?” Seokjin’s smile had basically reached his ears as he handed you a drink

“You can’t imagine” you quickly agreed “I’d forgotten people actually danced at parties”

“How did Mina manage to make such cool friends in Uni? I swear she self diagnosed herself with social anxiety last year.” Namjoon added

“I heard that, asshole” Mina suddenly made an appearance from Namjoon’s back. “And I promised my self I’d change unlike you” she downed what was left of her drink “You’ve made like… two new friends? And one of them is your cousin” she burst a laugh.

But her laughter soon faded away once she made eye contact with you “How are you doing?” She made a pause “Kim Taehyung. That asshole, I hope his house burns down or something.”

“He has like three whole mansions” you rolled your eyes and smiled at her

“Whatever” she took a sip

Four drinks in was when you decided that a bathroom break was more needed than you’d thought.

Stumbling a bit along the narrow hallway, you managed to find your way into the bathroom. To be fair, it was much easier to navigate a normal house as opposed to the three story mansions you were used to these past months.

“Ahh somebody would think you’re stalking me, angel“

Your heartbeats collided with a crash at the familiarity of the voice.

A burning rush of recognition ran down your spine as you met Jungkook’s heavy gaze. Brown doe eyes hugged by thick long eyelashes and a killer smile.

Jungkook was so much more dangerous than he looked. But that was what made him lethal. Because just by looking at those sweet eyes and that picture perfect smile, you wouldn’t be able to imagine how easy it would be for him to break your heart.

What was he even doing here? This was a one hour drive from Hashfield, and a party filled with people that didn’t really match his ‘status’.

You weren’t curious enough to ask.

“Move” was what you spat at him instead.

“Damn y/n. . . You’re breaking my heart”

Why had your name rolled of his tongue like he was more than familiar with it? Well you guess, because it was. . . Considering the fling you two had back in the day.

Another experience ruined by Kim Taehyung.

“Oh I’m sure you’ll get over it. Now, move”

He smiled.

An outrageous smile.

“Since when did you become such an ice queen?”

An even more outrageous question. “Uhh I don’t know, maybe since you and your little friends constantly fucked me over?” It’s ridiculous that you’re even talking to him right now, but somehow you couldn’t hold yourself back.

This hallway was narrow, narrower than you’d like. So when you tried to make your way past him, it was easy for him to pull you back with a simple hand movement.

He suddenly seemed to get ahold of his drunk self “Y/n about that… I just wanted to say I’m sorry, it was a shitty thing to do”

“Yeah, you think?” You don’t hold back the anger and bitterness sip into your tone, Jungkook deserved nothing less. “Let go”

An evil grimace formed, and the way he slightly came closer made your stomach drop. “I don’t really want to”

“I can smell the alcohol in your breath, Jungkook. Let go”

“I can assure you I’m very sober right now” he followed your order and took a step back, letting your hand slide down his fingers

You hadn’t talked to Jungkook since the whole fiasco between you him and Taehyung, yet this moment was enough to remind you the pull he had on you.

An annoying pull you had no control over.

“Y/n, I really am sorry. . . About everything”

You took a long sight, forgiving Jungkook for all the bullshit he’d done in the past was not on today’s to-do list. “Apologizing doesn’t take what you did back. It just puts me in a shitty position of having to decide wether you’re worth forgiving or not.”

“I know. I know. It’s selfish of me to say it now but uhm, I don’t think I’d get another chance so…”

“I get it, but I don’t think I’m ready to forgive you Jungkook.” You breathed in a shallow breath as you walked passed him and got into the bathroom.

It was the right thing to do. Jungkook was not the person you needed to talk to right now.

You closed your eyes and the mumbled music brought you back to the last time you had actually talked to him.

Outfield central club, two years ago

“I’m telling you pink brings out your eyes you should wear it more often” you jokingly pushed his shoulder. Jungkook didn’t need any color to bring out his eyes, they did a fine job being the center of attention on their own.

He smiled and pulled you closer by grabbing your waist. A signature move of his, you’d wondered how many girls had fallen for that trick. “There you go, romanticizing me again” he stood still but his eyes burned with intensity. “It’s too late for me, angel. I destroy everything beautiful that comes into my life”

That was not entirely wrong.

Sure, you and Jungkook had become extremely close this past year, the closest you’d been with an insider besides SeokJin and well, Kim Taehyung. But you felt comfortable around him, playboy reputation aside, there were times when he seemed genuine, sincere and kind.

Despite his rumors, Jungkook was not a bad person, which is surprising considering he hanged out with the devil himself, Kim Taehyung.

You and Jungkook clicked. You liked the same bands, enjoyed the same movies felt the same way when Jenna Jones and Brandy broke up. (She was too good for him)

“I don’t believe that. I think you’ve just convinced yourself that your not worth something serious because when you start to really care about someone it scares you”

His eyes got bigger “I care about you, and I’m not all that scared”

Gosh with the way he was smiling right now he had to have known how much you’d been crushing over him this past year.

You sighted. You wanted to put a chink in the ice he wore like armor. Stepping closer you ran a finger across his jawline, your voice soft “You have such a handsome face. Does it always get you everything you want?”

“Almost”

There was something so significant about that single word it put a hitch in your breath. “I bet one look from you can make women swoon at your feet”

He grow, probably annoyed that you brought up his popularity again. “Yet here you stand, perfectly not swooned”

You laughed lightly “Oh I wouldn’t say that”

He stared down at you.

You stared up at him.

As a corner of his lips lifted, You realized you were amusing him. “What?” You broke the silence

“Nothing” he shook his head “I shouldn’t really be here, Taehyung would kill me”

“What does Taehyung have to do with this?” You said firmly. Pretending the mere mention of his name didn’t bring your blood to boil.

“He’s just weird about me talking with you. He thinks we shouldn’t mix” he let out a breath

“We? As in. . . outsiders and insiders?”

He was a fucking asshole

“Cmon angel. . . You know how he is”

“Well, fuck him” You said, trying to take a step back, but his hand went to your lower back and drifted to the top of your ass. Your stomach tightened with unease.

Jungkook had always been subtly inappropriate—his fingers just grazing things they shouldn’t. Close enough to make you pleasantly uncomfortable, but not too close to where it would be considered something. If he went further, would you be able to handle it?

Jungkook pulled back to look you in the eye, but his hand didn’t leave you. Something crawled under your skin. You realized at this moment why you couldn’t escape the spell he seemed to have everyone under.

He buried his head on your neck before pulling back again “I could smell you all day, you know that?”

You stared at his big bright innocent eyes. Jungkook was the picture perfect son, or that’s what every magazine wrote, at least. He was kind and flirty to everyone, and could make every person in the room feel happy just by flashing a smile. That’s why he was so popular in the media. But what you found the most intriguing about his appearance, however, was the dark ink that showed through his white dress shirt. It was vague, but you thought it went all the way from his shoulder to the gold watch on his wrist. Jeon Jungkook had a full sleeve. You knew that «good kid» look was all smoke and mirrors.

He was looking at you as if he’d felt you observing him “I feel like you get lost in that head of yours sometimes” his smile was a soft one, the one he’d flash the paparazzi sometimes when he wanted to take an innocent looking picture.

“What can I say, thinking is my favorite hobby” you joked

“So. . . what do you think about me?” That smile never left his face

That you’re dangerous “I can be honest?”

“Please be”

“I was skeptical about you at first, I mean, your crowd, you know, they don’t have the best reputation, especially amongst outsiders. But as I got to know you, I’ve found that you’re the best exception to the rule ever”

“I am?” His eyes looked as if he’d succeeded at something

“Yeah, you are” your pulse leapt into your throat at the thought of your next words “I think I really like you, Jungkook—”

His name wasn’t even properly out of your mouth yet his lips locked on top of yours. He sucked slightly on your bottom lip, and he tasted as sweet as his reputation had been.

It was two days later that Taehyung had told everyone Jungkook hitting on you was a total prank.

You felt destroyed, defeated, because you had honestly fallen for Jungkook, but the disgust took every single feeling away. It took over your body for months, and you cried it out until you felt numb to it.

How shitty does a person have to be to do that? Yet how easily could you forget everything Taehyung had done to you? Your mind took you back to the «sober corner» and reminded you of everything you and Taehyung did together. But mostly what was more fucked up was how intense your feelings were for him. A person that never did right by you.

You closed your eyes shut and with a deep breath you let all the anger wash out of you. You decided that the pitty party was over as you had a very real party waiting for you on the other side of that door.

• • •

It had maybe hit four when Namjoon had finished throwing up for the third time tonight.

“What do you think y/n? Three or four months of teasing for this?” Mina bumped you in the shoulder

“I don’t know Mins” you let a laugh out “Let him live a little, he’s had a rough week”

So had you.

“You turned soft y/n, is it the change of the wall?” She teased

“Oh yes! Cause being around insiders all day turns me into such a softie!”

She chuckled at that but after a moment her eyes turned serious “You sure you don’t want to talk bout it?”

“Mina, don’t” you warned “Talking about it won’t change anything”

“It might change how you feel”

“I doubt it” You faked a smile, knowing Mina wouldn’t buy it anyway “So tell me all about that guy from the Kim’s firm!! What was his name? C something? It definitely had an E there was well—”

“Cedric, his name is Cedric” she rolled her eyes “Yeah well, I think he likes me. . . I mean he was aallll over me earlier” she smiled to herself.

“Well duh!!” You made a noise of acknowledgment, not surprised it had taken her this long to come to that assumption. The obvious was like a well hidden secret in Mina’s eccentric mind. Surprising, as she’d always aced her schoolwork, read people like a morning paper and had more friends than you could ever hope for.

“And I kept thinking, maybe there’s a reason he manspreads so much? He is big. Then I began to worry, so I started looking up pictures—well, videos—of men his size, naked, and that only made me worry more.”

“You were watching porn.” You said, deadpan, leaning by the side of Seokjin’s car while he fed Namjoon what seemed to be a hotdog? Where did he even get that?

She tilted her head “Yeah, I guess that’s what it’s called.” She turned around and followed your gaze “Okay where the hell did he get that hotdog from? I’m starving”

“Mina!! Hello? You were watching. . .” You lowered your voice “porn, for a guy? To like what? Prepare yourself? See if he’d fit?” A laugh escaped you but when Seokjin shot you a glare you turned it into a cough.

“Anywayyyys” she said as she opened the car door “Speaking of Cedric, I’ve got news!”

“Oh” was what you said when you got in the car, guessing the next sentence that’d come out of her mouth wasn’t going to be your favorite thing in the world.

“The Kim and Arden family are trying to make the engagement official”

“Trying…?”

“Jesus y/n, you’re living under a rock. Too many books not enough TV”

“You’re going to be a great mum” you chuckled

“Taehyung is literally all over the media, apparently some paparazzi interviewed him on the street last night, he said, and I quote! What my father wants is non of my business, I would rather eat a bag of dirt” she stopped “A bag. Of. Dirt.” she jerked her head backwards laughing “Listen, I don’t like the dude, but he’s got balls”

Relief shouldn’t be what you’re feeling right now. “I see” you tried to sound indifferent, because that was the acceptable reaction, but something pounded inside of you.

“I mean, acting up like that? In front of cameras? ANNND against his dad’s word? Makes you wonder why he’s so against it, doesn’t it?”

You rolled your eyes “What are you implying, Mina?”

She had a puppy look on her face “Nothing! Nothing! I’m just sayinggg”

“He’s young, and a massive playboy” you sounded more angry than you should “He obviously doesn’t want to be caged like a pup. Besides, he can’t tolerate Brianna for more than a second”

“And you know that because…?” Mina was obviously teasing.

Fuck. “Well, you know he told me, Mina.”

Of course Mina knew, but Seokjin, who was driving, and Namjoon, who was sitting on the edge of the passenger sit looking out the window probably contemplating life and why he had so much to drink today, didn’t exactly know the details between you and Taehyung. And you’d like to keep it that way.

There was a silence “I know I was stupid to trust him okay? I just—“

“It’s not your fault, y/n” Seokjin’s voice made an appearance “It’s not your fault he’s an asshole.”

“I know, I get it”

“So all that anger, don’t place it on yourself” Namjoon’s voice was barely audible

“Sorry are we still talking about y/n or are you talking about your alcohol problem? Because I’m a little confused” Mina snorted, she was always the one to tease Namjoon yet she took care of him the most out of all of us.

You rolled down the window, allowing the autumn air to flow through the car. It was a beautiful night, the starriest it had been for a while now. Cold air brushed your skin as you drove back to Outfield, gazing the wall from afar and that’s all you used to do, but now you know the other side of it very well. In fact, you were more familiar with it than you’d like. Bitterness crawled up your throat.

Toward the end of November, the bet was long forgotten and everyone and their mother was focused on Taehyung’s so called engagement, or rather, the lack of it.

You didn’t care. Focusing on schoolwork was far more important. . .Or that’s at least the lies you’d been feeding yourself.

It was hard to avoid it, considering it was all everyone talked about. The Arden and Kim family were arguably Hashfield’s founding families, the possibility of those two historic houses merging had everyone on edge.

Well, except Taehyung, apparently.

Ever since the scandal interview he gave about a month ago, Kim Taehyung seemed to do the opposite of what his father wanted. According to Claire, there had been a succession of crushes, flings, one night stands, who knows. To you all of it boiled down to one thing only: his cock had been everywhere. It had been in god knows how many vaginas, how many mouths.

Without your concern, your gaze found him. The amphitheater was big enough, so he shouldn’t notice.

The image disgusted you. It bothered you to think of him between a girl’s legs as she lay facing him, his broad, tanned, glistening shoulders moving up and down. Just looking at his shoulders when he happened to be going over his notes made you wonder where they’d been last night. How effortless and free the movement of his shoulder blades each time he shifted, how thoughtlessly they caught the sun. Did they taste of the sea to the woman who had lain under him last night and bitten into him? Or of his suntan lotion?

You remembered the last time you’d seen his shoulders all exposed under the sun. It was three years a go, near the end of your friendship.

You were in your mother’s garden, he’d stop by to bring you a Nintendo for your birthday. You tried to tell him that you were going to be a junior this year and that he should cut it with the kid stuff, but you’d secretly wished for that Nintendo so badly.

“Listen, I need to pick up something in town.” he said.

Something was always weed.

“And here I was, thinking you came down to Outfield for my birthday”

He sat silently a moment. “I did.” cleared his throat “Want to come with me? It’s been a while since we rode our bikes together”

“Now?” What you might have meant was, Really?

“Why, have you got anything better to do?”

“No.”

“So let’s go.”

Kim Taehyung, billionaire, Kim Taehyung, riding on a bike instead of his panamera just because you’d convinced him it was fun two years ago was the funniest sight, ever.

When you arrived at the garage, Amir, was arguing with Kadir, as usual.

This time he was accusing him of dousing the tomatoes with too much water, and that it was all wrong, because they were growing too fast.

“They’ll be mealy,” Amir complained.

“Listen. I do the tomatoes, you do the driving, and we’re all happy.”

“You don’t understand. In my day you moved the tomatoes at some point, from one place to another, from one place to the other”—he insisted—“and you planted basil nearby. But of course you people who’ve been in the army know everything.”

Their heavy accents made everything a little lighter.

“That’s right.” Kadir was ignoring him.

“Of course I’m right. No wonder they didn’t keep you in the army.”

“That’s right. They didn’t keep me in the army.”

Both of them greeted the two of you. The gardener handed Taehyung his weed. “You have a familiar face kid. Ever since the first day you came out here, I’ve seen you before, I’m sure of it. Did you work in a farm nearby perhaps?”

A laugh escaped your lips at the thought of Kim Taehyung being a farmer, maybe in another life. Of course Kadir had seen Tae’s face hanging in magazines or blasted through the daily talking show, but he couldn’t exactly pin point it.

Taehyung caught your smiled and after eyeing you smiled back.

Amir couldn’t have been more peeved. “No farmer dresses like that, are you stupid? From now on, I talk to customers you grow the tomatoes”

Kadir gave a wry smile.

Once you two had reached the cypress lane that led onto the main road to town, you asked Tae, “Doesn’t he give you the creeps?”

“Who?”

“Amir.”

“No, why? I fell the other day on my way back and scraped myself pretty badly. Amir insisted on applying some sort of witch’s brew. He also fixed the bike for me.” With one hand on the handlebar he lifted his shirt and exposed a huge scrape and bruise on his left hip.

“Still gives me the creeps,” You said, repeating your aunt’s verdict.

“Just a lost soul, really.”

Lost soul.

On your way, you noticed that Tae was taking his time. He wasn’t in his usual rush, no speeding, no scaling the hill with his usual athletic zeal. Nor did he seem in a rush to go back to his precious wall, or join his new friends on the beach.

He’d been spending a lot of time with a new crowd, you didn’t really know them, nor were you interested. Rich snobby kids from far inside the wall, probably best to avoid them. It kind of bugged you that Tae had started hanging out with them so much, but you wouldn’t bring yourself to say anything.

Today he’d spend almost the entire day with you, perhaps he had nothing better to do.

When you arrived at the small café that overlooked the sea, Tae stopped to buy cigarettes. He had started smoking Gauloises. You had never tried Gauloises and asked if you could. He took out a cerino from the box, gently placed the cigarette in between your lips and by cupping his hands very near your face, lit your cigarette.

“Not bad, right?” he said after you took a puff

“Not bad at all.”

He didn’t like the fact that you’d picked up smoking, but he wasn’t any better so he decided not to scold you about it anymore.

“Just take a look at this,” he said as the two of you ambled with your bikes in the afternoon sun toward the edge of the café overlooking the rolling hills below.

Farther out and way below was a magnificent view of the sea with scarcely a few stripes of foam streaking the bay like giant dolphins breaking the surf. “Do you know about the wailing woman?” he asked suddenly.

“She threw her husband in the sea, thinking he was dead, but he had just been asleep for days due to some medication. He ended up drowning from the waves”

“You heard how she died?”

“The next night she took a bunch of sleeping pills and threw herself in the sea to drown as well” You replied and studied his pondering face.

“Do you know why she did that?”

“Because she thought that, if she died the same way her husband did, she’d meet him in the afterlife.”

Why was he quizzing you?

“Is there anything you don’t know?” he asked, his eyes a light caramel from the sun.

“I know nothing, Tae. Nothing, just nothing.”

“You know more than anyone around here.Anyone I’ve ever met”

Why was he returning your near-tragic tone with bland ego-boosting?

“If you only knew how little I know about the things that really matter.” you replied

“What kind of things?” It was as if he was starring down into your soul

How much you wanted to touch his hair which was slightly ruffled by the passing wind. How much you wanted him to come even closer, maybe enough to hear how fast your heart beat every time he was near you.

Tell him. It’s now or never.

Is it better to speak, or to die? “Nothing.”

You were treading water, trying neither to drown nor to swim to safety, just staying in place, because here was the truth—even if you couldn’t speak the truth, or even hint at it, yet you could swear it lay around the two of you, the way they say that if a necklace gets lost while swimming: You know it’s down there somewhere.

You focus back to the class. On the Present day, when Taehyung was just a mere asshole to you, nothing else. You hopefully averted your eyes fast enough so that he didn’t notice you staring at him for what was probably fifteen minutes now.

This class was boring, you blame the weariness that washed over you for the flashbacks you were having about him.

That version of Taehyung was long dead to you.

@nikkiordonez12 @travelleratheart101 @theaufanartist @world-moon @ratedbangtann @chimchoom @pnkoo @taehyungedd @turnthepageandbeburnt @glitteryouid @jkbangtan7 @chimchoom @thankyoublair @manuosorioh

[simpforchuchu]

Last Goodbye

Prompts: DAY 8 - “why won’t it stop ?” @febuwhump Characters: Ash x reader x Eiji Fandom: Banana Fish Summary: A difficult goodbye

A/n for prompts: Hello guys! This is my first time trying a prompt challenge. I hope you like the short fics I wrote. I will finish them by writing some of the requests I have. I love you 💜

Sorry for the grammer or spelling mistakes.English is not my main language so...

Thank you and love you 🥰

Warnings: mention of gunshots, blood, character death, angst…

There are wrong decisions in life. The wrong people you met, the wrong people you helped, the wrong times you were somewhere...

Y/n knew that the bullet in her chest was the end of her. It hurt so much and she could feel her shirt getting wet. It was difficult to breathe. Her legs did not have the strength to carry her anymore.

Ash heard the gunshot from streets away. When he ran there and saw the young girl collapse on the ground, he screamed in pain.

“Y/n!”

Ash and Y/n had met a few years ago. Y/n found him injured and hid him in her house. Even though she was a few years older than him, Ash acted like her older brother.

Eiji knew her too. She was a cute and kind-hearted young girl. She was always making jokes and making Ash angry.

Y/n wasn't smiling today. Here eyes were closed. No, it wasn't like her eyes squinting when she smiled. She was unconscious.

Ash ran over and looked at the red mark on the young girl's chest. He took off his jacket and pressed the wound to stop the bleeding. When the young girl winced in pain, Ash took a deep breath because she was still alive.

"You will be fine! We will go to the hospital, okay?

Eiji was looking at them in fear. He called the ambulance, but he knew they didn't have much time.

"Damn? Why won’t it stop? Y/n ? Do you hear me?"

The young boy's jacket was completely stained with red liquid.

After a few seconds, the young girl tried to open her eyes, slightly opened her eyelids and smiled.

Ash looked at her in surprise. Could she smile at him even in this situation?

Y/n wanted to speak but failed. She coughed and grimaced as blood flowed from her mouth. She turned her gaze to Eiji and smiled again.

“Take care of him, Eiji-kun…”

Despite her low voice, they could both hear her. And unfortunately, these were her last words. Y/n slowly closed her eyes and exhaled her last breath.

Ash knew that another person had died because of him. If Y/n hadn't helped him, she would be alive right now. But y/n was happy, grateful for the short time she had known him…

[mcufan72]

Cold winter days, a lonely woman on a bench, a stranger in the park...

An Encounter in Winter ❄️

Loki and female reader

18+/adult themes/talking/flirting/slow burn/angst/fluff/smut (eventually)

Warnings: mentions of an accident, alcoholism and death (not detailed, not graphic) /a little bit of implied smut (not reader...not yet). It's a long chapter and maybe the beginning is a bit sad before the flirting can start again. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 2

Chapter 1 here

You and Loki met every day in the park. That has been going on for over two weeks now and you have already developed a lovely routine. First, you walked around that little lake or through the park and told each other about the day. Then you headed out to one of your benches and sat there for a while.

Sometimes you two had many more things to talk about like you would know each other for ages now and sometimes the two of you just sat there in silence and enjoyed the others' proximity. It never felt awkward. It was hard for both of you to not take each other's hands.

How much you wanted to place your head on his shoulder and Loki wished you would just do it. But none of you did anything of it. You both strictly avoided physical contact, except the hand kisses he gave you every day as a welcome. Even then you were always wearing your gloves.

Neither him nor you wanted to destroy what had just begun blooming and might end in a very good friendship. Also you two never asked about private details, both of you didn't want to be intrusive. He knew what your job was and the only thing you knew about his job was that he was something like a businessman, often on exhausting business trips.

Loki was always very secretive about his work or when it came to him. Nonetheless between you two there was definitely a subtle attraction for each other but you both were in denial about it. Love at first sight didn't exist, if love exists at all and so you both still maintained a polite distance from each other.

This afternoon after your stroll through the park you now sat next to him on the bench and you both looked at the little lake and watched at the ice skaters, who were peacefully doing their laps around the rink.

Today Loki wanted to take the chance to find out why you were alone here in this city. Maybe it was too soon to ask you such a private question but he needed to know because…no, he hadn't feelings of love for you but he was concerned about you and somehow the urge to take care of you grew more and more.

"Lady y/n? I'd like to ask you something. Why do you live here alone? What happened between you and your family? There's something that makes you sad and has broken your heart, right?"

He sensed that it wouldn't be easy for you to talk about it.

"You get straight to the point, don't you?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"No, it's okay, Mr. Laufeyson."

Right from the beginning you had the feeling you could tell him everything. You just weren't that kind of person who would tell everyone about your messed-up life on your own. You didn't want to bore someone or to be pitied. But you had nothing to hide or nothing to lose so you decided to talk about one of the worst things in your life that had happened to you.

"There was a big disaster, an accident, with some unfortunate consequences. I caused it, so that's what I thought for a very long time. A few years ago I was on a day trip with my mother and two other people. On our way back home another car, that drove way too fast, took me off the road and I lost control and we crashed in my car.

It was bad, my mother got injured. Nothing happened to me, I just had a shock and the other two were unharmed too. Unfortunately my mother's injury caused her constant physical pain afterwards. I felt so guilty about that. Because I had caused it. And she tried to cover the pain with too much alcohol.

The combination with the meds she had to take continuously since that accident, led to her death finally. My father yelled at me that this disaster was only my fault and that I was the only one to blame for everything.

You know, I had a wonderful childhood and youth, happy and carefree. My parents always seemed to be happy and in love. I'd never have thought that they could be unlucky and desperate. What I didn't know was that my parents' marriage had already been a loveless one for many many years and that my mum sought comfort in drinking lots of alcohol long before the accident happened. My godmother told me later.

At my mother's funeral he didn't even look at me. Only my then-fiance was there for me that day.

Am I through with it? Yes and no. I will never forget what happened but I've learned to live with it. And I still have to learn that none of it was my fault. It was fate and I never had a chance to avoid what happened even if I wanted to. But nonetheless I feel guilty sometimes and I still need time to arrange my new life here and to let go of the past…"

Loki listened to you in silence. He was profoundly touched by what he just had heard.

"Your father needed someone to blame for his faults and his mourn. So, it seems like he chose you. Did you ever meet your father again after your mother's funeral?"

"No, he never forgave me for what I had done. I arranged myself with this situation and it's okay now. And I still love him though."

"You do?" He turned his head towards you, astonished.

"How? I mean, he did you wrong and he let you feel his anger, he left it all out on you and made you responsible for the loss of his wife, your mother. Instead of doing that you two should've comforted each other. You would've needed his love and support."

The unjust behavior that was being shown to you made him angry.

"Yes, he did blame me and I mourned my mother's death alone but he's still my father…and parents are never easy to handle, are they?" You smiled, still staring at the lake.

"And in most cases, we love our parents somehow, no matter what they say or do or what they think about us. And I'm sure, deep inside his heart he still loves me, too. I know it's not possible for everyone to feel like this and that there can be unforgivable things and it's absolutely okay to forgive your parents not. I don't feel the need to meet him ever again but I can't hate him either.

And I had to leave. It became impossible for me to stay where my family lived. For me it's better to live alone. No pain anymore, no sorrows. So that's why I moved here a few months after the funeral."

Loki nodded, he understood what you meant. He had his own family issues and totally understood your contradictory feelings.

"That's really sad what happened to you and between you and your family. I feel sorry for that, I really do." Loki said gently and genuinely to you.

"You don't have to but thank you. I'm stronger now, I'm alright now," you said quietly.

"May I ask you something, Mr.Laufeyson? You turned towards him to face him.

"Of course, Lady y/n!"

It always made you giggle when he called you that.

"I noticed it since the second day I saw you here in the park, sitting on this bench. Don't you feel cold? There's snow on the ground and it's so cold. Every day you wear just a suit, a light scarf and a light woolen coat. You must be freezing! I'm freezing all the time."

Somehow you were concerned about him and Loki chuckled.

"You're adorable, Lady y/n…may I invite you for a coffee or a hot chocolate?"he asked you with his deep baritone and smiled politely at you.

He knew that some Midgardians were addicted to hot chocolate, especially in the winter time and after what you had told him just yet he thought you could need some comfort. You noticed that he didn't give you an answer to your question but you didn't want to force him to give you an answer either and so you gave him a big smile. You were cold and it sounded awesome to drink something warm now.

"Oh yes please, Mr.Laufeyson. A hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows…that would be sooo wonderful now," you answered him full of joy and enthusiasm.

"It's hot chocolate then, my Lady. Let's go!" He replied calmly and you two stood up from the bench to leave the park.

"Wonderful, and I already know a nice café where we can get it" and you hooked your arms around one of his like it was the most normal thing in the world.

He stiffened immediately, stopped walking and looked astonished at your tangled arms and then into your face, a quizzical look in his eyes, raising one eyebrow. You looked back at him a little scared. You didn't want to overstep and let go of his arm promptly.

"I'm sorry" you said quietly, smiled awkwardly and hid your hands behind your back.

His gaze at you was kind of emotionless now and you couldn't decipher it.

"That's quite all right, Lady y/n," he said after a few seconds and offered you his arm gentlemanlike so you could hook your arm with his again.

"My Lady?" he said calmly.

"Thank you, Sir" and you took his offer gratefully, smiled brightly at him and you two continued the walk to the café.

It was pleasant to feel him physically. You felt the muscles of his angled forearm flexing under your grip. You had started to caress his forearm with your fingers without recognising it but it made Loki grinning. It felt good. You were the cutest thing he had ever seen and you clinging on his arm felt pretty good.

When you had reached the café and found a nice table at the window, Loki helped you out of your winter coat and hung it up in the wardrobe together with your scarf and your beanie.

"Thank you, you're a real gentleman," you said and smiled at him.

"That's how it should be and it's what my parents taught me: behave decently towards a Lady because every woman deserves respect, " he answered and he gave you a kind smile.

"No one ever did this for me," you stated.

"That's awful! It seems you only met idiots before you met me." he grinned smugly and winked at you.

He took off his coat and the jacket of his suit and hung them up in the wardrobe next to your winter coat. After he had helped you with your chair and you had taken a seat, he sat down across from you and rolled the sleeves of his crisp white shirt neatly up to his elbows. His tailored waistcoat hugged his body perfectly and his clothing was precisely rounded up with a dark green tie.

The sight of his v-shaped, marvellous torso and his defined biceps flexing under the sleeves of his tight shirt made you swallow thickly. He looked stunning and you tried to not stare at him like an idiot. The knees of his well-built endlessly long legs brushed yours under the table and you tried hard to ignore it. Every contact of your body with his made your spine tingle.

"You might be right with it, Mr. Laufeyson. I only met the jerks until I met you," and a big smile appeared on your face again.

After the waiter had taken your orders, Loki decided to continue your conversation you had in the park. He wanted to learn more about you because he liked you very much. You were so positive, your whole appearance and attitude were so natural, genuine and warm. Your natural manner was enchanting. He admired you for being so strong. But besides this he was sure there were more incidents in your life that had hit you hard.

"It seems you like the color green?" you asked him and you made a gesture like you would tidying an imaginary tie around your neck.

"Oh…yes, it's my favorite color," he answered laughingly.

"Mine too," you said and smiled at him.

"I know," he answered with his velvety voice and a flash of pink appeared on your cheeks.

"Excuse me, Lady y/n but…I can't get it out of my head. So you are really completely alone here in this town? No family, no friends? You also mentioned a then-fiancé. Is there really no one who takes care of you? After everything that happened to you?"

Maybe it would be better to not answer a stranger's questions you just met some time ago but you trusted him somehow. He remained distant and guarded all the time and you didn't know much about him but you didn't have the feeling that he wanted to harm you, it seemed he cared about your well-being. And mostly your gut feeling didn't betray you. He truly seemed to be one of the good ones…but you would definitely not talk about your ex-fiancé.

"Besides that I'm a big girl and able to handle myself, you seem really to be concerned about me."

Loki just shrugged his shoulders apologetically and smiled politely. In addition he couldn't ignore your beautiful body which was perfectly hugged by your knitted turtleneck sweater and your jeans. He liked your beautiful small delicate hands and how you were fidgeting with your fingers.

"Besides my father, I have a sister, a brother-in-law and a niece."

"A sister, a brother-in-law and a niece? That's wonderful. Do you meet them regularly?"

"Why do you want to know all this?" you wondered and smiled at him.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to overstep anything and of course you don't need to give me an answer. But I like you and it just concerns me that a nice woman like you has neither a family nor friends here by her side who care about her. I know how it feels to be alone all too well."

Now you were concerned about him. A man like him was alone and lonely in life, too? Until now you've never talked about those private things, you just spent approximately two hours in the afternoons together and you always presumed he has friends or a special someone. And if he had a wife you would never want to come between them. His concern for you seemed to be genuine so you wanted to answer him.

"No, unfortunately, I don't see my sister and her family. She and my niece… were the other two passengers in my car…. You sighed quietly.

"They're world travellers and the last time I saw my sister was at the funeral of our mother. And I'm sure she doesn't want to see me ever again because when we had that accident I could have harmed her and her baby, too. I think she will never forgive me for what happened either. Our relationship after the accident is a complicated one. And to be honest, I don't even know where they are actually." You chuckled slightly.

"But I have some friends at work…ahm… they're more colleagues than friends but sometimes we meet at the theater or in a restaurant…so, as you can see, I'm not completely alone."

The waiter came and served you your hot chocolate and Loki his espresso and you both took a sip of your beverages.

"Mmhmm…fantastic, exactly what I need right now, " you hummed.

"Your hot chocolate marshmallow stuff looks delicious," Loki stated and he noticed the seam of cocoa and cream on your upper lip when you put the mug on the table, your hands still cupped around it to warm your hands.

"There's…something on your upper lip." Loki stroked his index finger over his upper lip to show you what he meant and grinned.

You raised your eyebrows and laughed silently. With your tongue you licked the cocoa-cream seam slowly off your upper lip, unaware how exquisitely sensual you did it. Finally you stroked with the side of your thumb over your lips to clean them properly and as the cherry on top you gave him your cute smile.

"Better?" you asked him.

Loki couldn't help himself but stare at you and your action. He licked his lips nervously and he felt how his pants became tighter in his crotch.

"Yeah, better," he assured you.

"Wanna taste?" you asked him smoothly while looking him deep in the eyes and you passed your mug into his direction.

A shiver ran down his spine. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat.

"Maybe next time, darling. But thank you," he replied in his deep voice but now it sounded a little bit more rough and scratchy.

Why did you affect him so much? He shouldn't allow himself to feel like this. You would never talk to him if you knew what he did and who he really was. You were too good for him.

"You miss something if you don't taste it, it's really good," you pouted and glanced at him smilingly.

"I'm sure it is. I'll try it one day. I promise."

"Good, I'll remind you about it!" and you put your mug back on the table again.

"So tell me, Mr.Laufeyson. What about you? Do you have family and friends here? A wife somewhere waiting for you perhaps? I can't imagine that a handsome and extremely polite man like you is all alone here in this city."

He hesitated before he gave you an answer.

"I have a brother. He lives here too. No wife, no…I'm not in a relationship. I'm…not alone …most nights, if you know what I mean but…it's never anything solid…and I moved here recently so…I don't know many people here, not yet. I need to put certain things here in order."

"Ah, okay, I understand."

Was it a good or a bad sign that he hadn't asked you yet to spend the night with him? Anyway, you weren't looking for a one-night-stand or a boyfriend.

"So you have a sibling too, a brother, that's nice. It's important to have your family nearby…if possible. And please don't get me wrong, I didn't want to be offensive..it's just…once bitten twice shy… the jerks, you know."

You answered him friendly and smiled.

You didn't want to force him to tell you more. You had the feeling that he didn't want to tell you more details about his private life.

"No need to worry, Lady y/n, you haven't been offensive. Not more than I've been,"

he answered you and took a sip of his espresso.

Your conversation became more casual and general again like it was every day when you met each other at the park.

You talked about the cultural offers of the city, some musicals and museums.

"Would you like to visit an art gallery? With me?" he asked.

Did he just ask you out for a date? Normally he asked a woman to share his bed for the night. He never asked for a date. But you were a special woman to him. You deserved better than only to be a one-night-stand. You deserved to get conquered and loved. He wasn't the right man for you but he wanted to give you a good time and make you feel less alone. And he would be less alone too.

"You would like to do that with me, are you sure, Mr.Laufeyson?"

You couldn't believe that he wanted to do this with you, that he could be interested in art, too. Normally you were used to visiting art galleries all by yourself.

"Hmmmmhh! I'm absolutely sure!" he assured you.

"Oh, yes that sounds great and yes I'd love to visit an art gallery with you."

His offer made you overly happy.

"What about next week?"

"Fine, that sounds great! Next week then!" you nodded. "It's late, I should go home now. I gotta get up early."

"Shall I escort you home?"

"No, no please, no circumstances Mr.Laufeyson. My place is not that far away from here. But thank you for your kind offer…and your invitation."

"My pleasure!"

Loki nodded, smiled warmly at you and when you stood up from your chair, he went to the wardrobe and helped you into your coat. He stood so close behind you that you could feel his breath on your neck, his fingers touched your shoulders gently. You shivered again, his closeness felt good and made you feel safe. You turned around to face him and for a short moment, you thought he would kiss you. Of course, he didn't, you barely knew each other.

It felt good when he stood so close to you. He hoped you wouldn't think he wanted to touch you in a not-so-decent way when his hand gently stroked over your shoulders after he had helped you into your coat. It happened rather accidentally than purposely or that was what he thought.

When you turned around to face him he couldn't resist letting his eyes wander over your pretty face. He found you incredibly pretty with your sparkling eyes and your wonderful soft lips. It was hard for him to kiss you not. He bet you would slap him if he would do it, you only knew each other briefly. It didn't feel right to kiss you, not yet and maybe he would never be allowed to do that.

"Have a nice evening, Mr.Laufeyson and thank you so much for this lovely afternoon and…the hot chocolate."

"Have a nice evening too, Lady y/n, I definitely enjoyed the afternoon with you, and you're welcome."

"Tomorrow, same time, same place?" you asked him happily.

"I'm looking forward to tomorrow, same time, same place. And after our stroll in the park, I'd like to sit here with you again, in this lovely place. What about you? Would you like that?" he asked you, softly gazing at you and waiting for your answer.

"Yes, let us go here again tomorrow. That would be great. See you, Sir. Bye."

"See you then, my Lady."

You smiled brightly at him, turned around and waved your hand at him when you opened the café's entrance door and left the café.

On your way back home you walked along the store windows which were so lovely decorated for Christmas. Your coat and your scarf smelled like him…sandalwood …and a warm smile curved your lips slightly.

After you had left, Loki got dressed into his jacket and coat, paid the bill and left the café too. He didn't want to go home yet and so he visited a bar, to find a companion and distraction for the night…like usual. And if he was honest with himself he had the unfulfillable hope that one day you would be his companion, his friend, his lover, his girl for each of his lonesome nights and days…and he smelled a hint of your perfume that lingered in his coat and a smile curved his lips.

"Yes babe yess…fuck me, Loki…deeper, deeper…I'm a good girl, I'm a good girl yes,yes…please…fuck meee daddy…"

"That's what you want, slut, hm?…want me to fuck you relentlessly like the whore you are…fuck…just like that…"

"Yes, I'm a whore, fuck me deeper… daddyyyy…deeper…yesss…"

Loki fucked the woman underneath him in a merciless pace. He was close to his release, he just wanted to finish this quickly.

"I'm…cumming."

"Yes, cum…cum now" and he ejaculated and she climaxed while shouting his name.

When he looked at her, he himself was panting heavily in the aftermath of his orgasm, he didn't see her, he saw your face…Loki pulled out of her quickly and left the bed, slightly irritated, stroking his hands through his messy hair.

"Loki darling, come back to bed, I want to cuddle you " she pouted.

"No, no cuddling, just fucking. I made it clear before we started!"

"Oh come ooonn. You're so sweet," she chirped.

"No! Go girl! Please! I never cuddle, okay! …please go, clean yourself or take a shower if you want and then just go. No aftercare. We both just wanted to let off some steam. That was the deal," he said respectfully but strictly.

"Okay, babe," she answered carelessly and jumped out of the bed, collected her clothes from the floor and went towards the bathroom. She didn't care, she had a good fuck with Loki and that was it. A few minutes later she came back, cleaned and dressed.

"Bye, Loki babe, you were fantastic, " she purred, pressed a wet kiss to his cheek and left his apartment.

Why did he see your face when he fucked a random woman? He couldn't allow himself to fall for you…and he wiped his hand firmly over his cheek where that woman had kissed him. He didn't feel satisfied, he felt empty inside and alone.

Something had started to change.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

@lokisprettygirl @wheredafandomat @fictive-sl0th @lokixryss @huntress-artemiss

[the-tragic-heroine]

死鬼祭 | Shiki Matsuri

fandom: tokyo revengers

characters: kurokawa izana, kakucho, haitani ran, haitani rindou, madarame shion, kokonoi hajime

pairings: tenjiku x female reader

cw: blood, violence, major character death, supernatural elements, mass murder, angst with happy ending, kinda, she/her pronouns used for reader

tags: @akemiixx01​

—✧ SUMMARY ✧—

The villagers say that you cursed them all. You believe that they were the ones who cursed you. (Or, in which the circumstances of your unfortunate birth woke a forgotten, slumbering god.)

Very vague depictions of the supernatural here, and a few cameos of specific yokai if you can spot them! Title is based off of a song by KODOKULOVE! More characters may be added as the story progresses.

Read on AO3 Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six

CHAPTER 柒 SEVEN (FINAL)

“Welcome back,” Izana said as you settled back into your own body again. “Are you with me?”

You nodded, staring straight ahead.

“Good. How do you feel?”

“Awful,” you replied bluntly. Then, “Was that really me?”

Izana hummed. “Who knows… but I like to think that it was. Some way or another, you came back—and I believe that somehow, I was given the chance to make things right.” When he looked at you, you were transported centuries back to those same amethyst eyes: divine and ethereal in its majesty, but shedding tears like a heartbroken human man.

“It hurt,” you told him honestly. “It hurt more than the day I was bashed over the head and burned with a torch. I should hate you for making me go through that. Yet…” You trailed off. “Yet, I can’t. I can’t hate you because now, I understand.”

The you who grew up with nothing would have never been able to comprehend the pain of losing absolutely everything.

“The Sano household still stands, even to this day,” you said. “But my family’s old home has long since been built over. They erased both you and us from history and replaced it with the legend of a cunning fox, who tried to disguise itself as a human woman so it could kill the village lord. Not even my mother knew the truth, as it died along with me that night.” You met his piercing gaze. “But you knew, didn’t you? You knew the second you saw me and the blood that came out from between my legs. And the guilt of it followed you forever.”

Izana said nothing.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I’m sorry for deceiving you. I’m sorry for leaving you all alone.” You smiled at him, eyes dry and free from tears. “But I’m here now, so let me help you.”

This time, when Izana smiled back, you found that he had never looked more lovely.

—✧—

The remaining walk to the village did not take very long, and when you both arrived, you could not even be shocked anymore at the sight that awaited you.

It was as if the entire village, from the rooftops to the streets, had been doused with foul, oozing tar. The malevolent spirits clung onto the sides of buildings, adhered themselves to the weary, zombie-like villagers who appeared to have lost all will to live. None even seemed to notice me as I peered out from behind the trees near the village entrance. Farther into the distance, I recognised the looming presence of the painfully familiar Sano household and its demons, sitting at the very top of the sloping hill.

“How unfair,” you said, “that one man’s sin would be enough to doom an entire civilization.”

“Such is the nature of man,” Izana replied, voice carried by the breeze.

Perhaps the long dream had broken something deep inside of you, because when your gaze came to rest on a crumpled heap along the side of an alley, surrounded by bloodied sticks and stones and with a cloud of both flies and demons hovering overhead, you did not even blink. Probably because the body reminded you a bit of yours, all those centuries ago… and you could no longer find within yourself any remaining ounce of sympathy left for the villagers who had shunned you and your bloodline, tortured you throughout your entire life, for a crime you had never even committed.

You did not feel human when you turned to Izana and said with a smile, “Burn them all.”

—✧—

It was the night of a full moon when you and Izana led an army of a hundred yokai to descend upon the village—but the only person the villagers saw was you. As if in a trance, they watched silently as you walked through the center of all the buildings, eyes set straight ahead, ignoring the chattering monsters that began to crawl close behind. When you reached the foot of the hill leading up to the Sano household, you finally turned around.

Behind you, Izana was already waiting, invisible to the eyes of the mortal men. All he had to do was raise one hand—and then, the massacre began.

Screams blended together with the laughter of Izana’s contracted spirits as one-by-one, the houses burst into flame. Wooden rafters creaked and groaned, snapping and smoldering while people desperately scrambled for safety—only to run headfirst into the jaws of the eagerly awaiting yokai, who devoured their souls and left only empty husks behind. The demonic entities that clung to the village were swept up into the chaos, latching onto and attacking both humans and yokai alike—but they were nothing more than fodder for Izana’s army, who quickly consumed them as well.

You caught glimpses of your shrine’s men in the crowd; Ran and Rindou were all too happy to stomp the demons flat, not caring if any humans were in the way. Shion killed any creature who crossed his path, human or demon, occasionally having to be yanked aside before he could attack an ally by accident. Kokonoi mostly stayed on the sidelines, away from the violence, but did not hesitate to crush any victims who strayed too far from the center of the battle. And you watched as Kakucho, whose eyes once swam with guilt and remorse, guarded the village border—catching whoever made it far enough in their attempt to escape and ripping their hearts from their chests. When he raised his head and briefly caught your gaze, you saw that he wore an expression of nothing but cold dedication to his duty.

As buildings and villagers collapsed and burned alike, you stood at the center of it all. Dying people cried out and begged for their lives like you were a god. How ironic, you thought to yourself as they perished like ants beneath a merciless heel; you had once died here, too, like nothing but a wounded animal, without even the chance to plead to your own beloved god for salvation. You wondered, if you could have chosen how you died, which you would pick: burning together with your people, or bleeding out alone in front of an entire village’s scrutiny.

The sudden touch against the back of your hand dragged you from your thoughts and you found yourself blinking up at Izana, who slipped your hand into his. As he interlaced your fingers together, he leaned in and rested his forehead against yours—mirroring the night of your death. You closed your eyes, letting the sounds of destruction fade into the back of your mind as he spoke.

“This is not the end,” he said, his voice a gentle caress. “This is only the beginning. Let this be the day of our rebirth.”

“Our rebirth,” you echoed, and closed the gap between your lips. In that moment, encircled by death and fire, you had never felt happier.

—✧—

The Sano manor was the only building still standing after the rest of the village was reduced to piles of smoldering ash. You stood before it, matchstick in hand, facing the same doors you had once been thrown out of.

“You tried to erase our bloodline,” you told the house, lifting the match into the air. “How funny that instead, mine will be the only one that remains.”

The match sailed through the air, flame dancing to a familiar melody. When the manor began to burn, instead of the crackling of flames, you heard the humming of your mother while she brushed your hair, woven together with the whimsical laughter of your little brother and sister.

You sat and watched until the house was no more, until all that was left of the fire was the curling of smoke into the air. Until you could no longer hear your family’s song.

“Goodbye,” you said, and cried.

—✧—

“Go sit down,” Rindou snapped at you as you tried to help sweep up some of the debris. “You shouldn’t be here anyway! You should be resting back at home.”

“She’s not a doll, Rin Let her do what she wants,” Ran piped up, standing so that he could stretch from where he had been moving rubble off to the side. “Ugh, some of this stuff is getting into my hair…”

You rolled your eyes at the two of them and huffed. “You guys are absolutely useless at cleaning. Especially Ran. That’s why I’m here, because the mess should have been cleared by now so we can actually start rebuilding everything!”

“Oh, come now,” Kokonoi laughed, sticking out his tongue at your bickering. “Why not pay for some more help? Not that I’m offering to spare some of my own money, though.”

“You’re useless too,” you grumbled right back. “I can’t believe you have the audacity to ask us to pay you to help! Why does Izana still keep you around? Also, where the hell did Shion go?”

As if on cue, a bloodcurdling screech erupted from a rubble pile a short distance away, before Shion popped into view with a disgruntled tanuki dangling by the tail from his clenched fist.

“Ever since we destroyed everything, this place has been crawlin’,” Shion said, eyeing the wriggling creature. “Might as well eat some of ‘em, right?”

You dropped your broom. “Shion! Let it go!”

“It’s lively here, but somehow, it seems that even less work is being done,” came Kakucho’s smooth, deep voice from behind you, right as Shion begrudgingly dropped the poor tanuki. It scampered back into the forest.

You sighed. “It’s like wrangling with children. I don’t know how you and Izana manage it.”

Kakucho laughed, and you were once again struck by the raw beauty of his happy face. “Well, when you’ve been together with these guys for hundreds of years, what’s just a few minutes more in comparison?” He patted your shoulder. “Take a break. I know you’re excited to get things finished, but there’s no real rush. There are no people left aside from you now, after all. And, well, except for…”

A loud yell and crash interrupted him mid-sentence, the two of you looking up just in time to see Izana cheerfully kicking Shion into a mountain of splintered wood. Ran and Rindou guffawed while Kokonoi snickered into one of his fluffy tails. Kakucho rolled his eyes and set off to help Shion up, who was now loudly complaining about splinters, leaving you to watch the scene with a little shake of your head—but unable to wipe the affectionate smile from your face. You were still smiling when Izana made his way over to your side.

“You look happy,” he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before wrapping his arms around you with a sigh of contentment.

“That’s because I am,” you replied, laughing softly. “I never thought someone like me could ever be happy in this lifetime… but thanks to all of you, I’ve been proven wrong. Even though it took a lot of pain and heartache to get here.” And human sacrifices, your mind added helpfully, though you chose to ignore it.

Izana rested his chin on your shoulder with a pleased hum. “If anyone deserves happiness, it’s you.”

You closed your eyes and smiled. “If you say so. And what about you? Are you happy?”

You felt the curve of his lips against your neck as he responded without hesitation. “Of course I am. And so are the others. We’ve waited centuries to find our happiness again—and now that we found it, we don’t plan on letting you go.”

“I’m… your happiness?” Your words came out in a shaky whisper.

“…Always have been, from the very start.”

The tears of joy rolling down your cheeks became glistening sparkles underneath the warmth of the noontime sun. “Then, don’t. Don’t let me go. Let me stay by your side for the rest of my life—and for the rest of yours.”

“You’ve gotten better with your words since becoming one with me,” Izana said. “Do you feel any different, now that you’ve joined me in becoming a god?”

“Not really,” you said, after some thought. “I feel exactly the same. Who knows, maybe I was actually god all this time! After all, gods are formed from the power of belief, right?”

Izana hummed. “Indeed. This world works in mysterious ways—but that’s the beauty of it, isn’t it?”

“At the very least, I do feel like I’ve been reborn, like you said.” One of your hands found its way atop of Izana’s, where it rested over the slight swell of your stomach. “So I hope that it’s a sign of this village’s eventual rebirth, as well.”

“I’m sure it is,” he replied, closing his eyes. His long eyelashes brushed against your skin in a fluttering kiss. “We’ll rebuild it together, piece by piece.”

—✧—

a/n: Sorry if the ending was rather abrupt kdasjlsl I ACTUALLY HAVE ANOTHER FIC I PLAN ON DROPPING SOON SO I JUST WANTED TO FINISH THIS UP QUICKLY SO I CAN GET TO IT!! also, what do you guys think of an epilogue?and btw, before anyone asks about the logistics of how they're gonna rebuild an entire village with just y/n and the boyz, there are neighbouring villages and travelers who will eventually move in and settle permanently! as for how repopulating the village with humans as a god is gonna work, idk just go with it LMAO THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR READING THIS WAS A WILD RIDE AND BY FAR THE LONGEST FIC I HAVE EVER WRITTEN I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT!!! NOW ONTO MY NEXT ONE!!!

[c0rvidbones]

hello I love your art a whole lot!! tell me more about Wit (he's hot and evil and I require more juicy details) and Ruby (his design goes so hard) please?

oh my god hi i did not expect to come back to 20 notifs. (/pos) youve given me a much needed ego boost tonight thank you. is it bad i cant remember having ever posted ruby art?? ive only ever gotten One comm of him which is a crime, my violent martyr son should rly get more love than i give him 😔 but thank you for asking! buckle up this is gonna be a long fuckin post ♡ everything under the cut including relevant character art

WIT

behold, all art of wit i have including one i havent posted here bc i never actually finished it and the wip of him being a silly giggly boy. pls know i came up with him like MAYBE a month ago. two, tops.

SO wit is actually a what-if au of another oc of mine, his name is doodle. doodle (seen below) is a very robin-hood-esque oc, honorable thief and kindhearted, swashbuckler rogue that dual wields rapiers bc hes insane. but hes insane in like a normal way. he was a horrible child but he did grow out of it and its rare to see him w his hair down so pardon me making him look absurdly pretty in that one.

as you can see there are some (but not MANY) differences between the two. kid wit does have the starry hands/peets im just forgetful dont @ me about it djdjdj

ANYWAYS so the what-if of the au that wit is, essentially, little singular things didn't happen to people in that au world. it goes like so;

wit: never met his childhood best friend when he was a freshly injured orphan. was alone from the (elf) ages of 0-16. ended up studying magic (illusion wizard) since he didn't have someone to lean on for that sort of thing.

laika (wit's mom): never truly broke out of an archfey's madness curse. stuck with a very twisted version of the spell Tasha's Hideous Laughter burned into her mind. everything is funny and if it's scary? even funnier. she died briefly. shes back now, but still madnessed.

perseverance (wit's dad): never saved his mother from a death blow in the be-all end-all fight to save his home. was held back by someone who he thought was a friend, killed that person and then ultimately spiralled so hard that he became a lich. may or may not have accidentally killed laika.

something something one decision can change your whole life, me and my friend loved playing with that concept.

okay now that you know a lil lore/history i can dive into what wit is like.

as a kid (drawn with the short megafloofy hair) he's very mischievous and bastardly, almost always smiling or grinning but it's more to lean into the uncanny valley effect his eyes cause than out of any actual joy or anything. he doesn't Blink and he knows it unnerves people because he also has a freakishly high insight (i think its like a +9 or smth??? at level 9??). he loves to come up with fucked up spells, like. for example i saw a silly post on here the other day that was very jokingly having a wizard cast a spell of "10000 bricks until you die" but then i was immediately aware wit would (1) come up with that spell, make it functional, and have it unfortunately obliterate everyone that gets hit with it, and (2) he would call it Wit's Bricks which i think is fuckin funny. he would also come up with spells of like. cause heatstroke. boil all fluid in your body. FREEZE all fluid in your body. he's a little freak with extremely low empathy for those he isn't connected to with blood ties. that said, he's kind to his family (albeit very blunt and will call them out if theyre being stupid) and inquisitive. he DID look his dad in the eye when he met him for the first time and went "are you dead?" which. again, hilarious, but BRUTALLY blunt. he then called his dad cool because yes his dad is now a lich and therefore undead. he's a little freak but he's still a kid and that is ultimately his saving grace, what small child isn't a little freak.

as an adult (long ponytail) i get a feel of him being aro and using romance as a way to manipulate people. he's definitely still not a good person and far more stoic than he was as a child. also he most definitely maintains a constant illusion to make it seem like his eyes are always closed, which lends an air of mystery to the strange elf that seems to always be standing right behind every throne in every kingdom of faerun. i say this because i like to think he would become what's called a King's Wit, which is like a combo of royal advisor, court mage, and "guy the regent has insult other nobility since insults are beneath the reigning royal". he uses all of that to his advantage, gaining the ear and trust of every single person of noble blood that is part of any royal or ruling court, and he will bend and twist their choices so subtly that they won't realise he led them to ruin until it's already too late. which is his ultimate plan. he's STILL somewhat a robin hood style of character, but he takes it a bit further and with far less kindness to the nobility. he guts their coffers completely and every hoarded coin down to the last copper inevitably will land its way conveniently into the lap of the common folk. he does take a healthy chunk for himself - did you know being a wizard was EXPENSIVE in dnd btw? i didnt until i made wit - but most of it is for the local citizens. he does this everywhere he goes if he sees that it needs to happen. fucker topples kingdoms For Fun, because he never gets caught or credited with the ruin he leaves behind himself. he's awful. he probably still comes up with fucked up spells and he manipulates his way into wherever he wants to be. i love him.

---

RUBY

behold! @polterpumpkin drew my (not very) little guy for me! this is part of a greater set but this is the fully coloured one and arguably my fave bc it captures the absolute batshit energy ruby brings to the table.

ruby is a tiefling that was born in a lab. voluntarily, his parents participated in a sort of study that wanted to eval why it is tieflings could be born to non-tiefling parents. (both his parents are half-orcs, interestingly!) he participated in it up to a certain point, before he got sick of being poked and prodded and Watched. that's when he demanded to be released and, when he wasn't, both his parents helped him escape, unfortunately leaving his other two tiefling-born siblings behind in the process. both parents Died helping him escape, and he was embittered as is by the whole study bs, and then to have his parents die Saving him? it left him with this sort of hole he didn't know how to feel.

so he fills that hole with every vice he finds agreeable. he drinks, he fights, and he drinks again. he's a drunken monk, and one full of unbridled rage and a death wish. he isn't my happiest oc but he isn't my worst off (that would be talisman bloodhunter). he's constantly seeking a grand and worthy cause to die for, literally. he's a wannabe martyr, because he doesn't think he has anything to live for. no lovers, no friends, no allies, MAYBE a coworker or two on the occasion he's needed (he is so not needed most of the time, because it isn't often any job needs an angry monk tief to glare around the place). he has just those two sides to himself - party animal and underground drunk brawler - because he doesn't want to think about the pain underneath them both. he's tragic in a very human way, hilariously enough, but he's not a bad person. even if he's being dragged by the tail to do a job, he's ultimately going to be helpful and he ALWAYS keeps his team alive. he'll grumble about it but he'll do it, and if you thank him he brushes it off, muttering something or other about how it's just his job, don't Thank him for that. i think having a friend would Fix him but fuck if i know what would get past his thick skin 😔

i dont get to play or write ruby really, not for any specific reason other than the dnd games im in have been going for So long, and that i havent really been super inspired to write him. but i love him! literally my car is named after him! i have so many feelings for him and i hope one day i get to play/write him so he can be more fleshed out.

[yanderefangirl]

Fate

Hanma felt like the luckiest man alive when he looked at his darling (Y/n) and their twins. They were his precious little treasures. When Kisaki had died, a part of Hanma had died alongside him but then he had met (Y/n) (L/n). He could remember the day that they had met like yesterday. 

(14 years ago)

Hanma was walking home from visiting Kisaki's grave. His eyes were red from all of the crying that he had done. He missed Kisaki so Goddamn much. It hurt so much that he wasn't gonna be able to ever see Kisaki or talk to him or touch him again. He can't understand why Kisaki had to die. Kisaki may have been a cunning and manipulative guy who caused the deaths of some people and yeah sure he had done a lot of horrible things to a lot of people and yeah maybe he did have a weird obsession with that Hinata girl but still Kisaki didn't do anything to deserve dying the way he did.

It just wasn't fair. Kisaki should be here with him. Not dead and buried in the ground. As Hanma walked home, he wasn't paying attention to what was going on around him and bumped into someone which caused them both to fall. 

"Oh my goodness. I am so sorry. I didn't see you there. Are you alright?" 

Hanma upon hearing that angelic and warm and sweet voice, looked up and saw the most beautiful girl that he had ever seen. She had (h/l), (h/c) wavy hair, (s/c) gorgeous looking skin, the most lubricious lips that he ever seen, hands that looked so perfect and soft and her eyes were the most lovely and amazing (e/c). She was wearing a red tank top and a pair of purple shorts with blue wellington boots on her feet. She had a backpack on her back. Most likely to carry her stuff around in. 

He couldn't help but stare at her and all he wanted to do was grab her and kiss her. And he wouldn't stop kissing her until he was satisfied. And then he would carry her away to his house and keep her in his bedroom. Safe and sound from all harm. He was about to do that when he realized that it wouldn't exactly work because her family may be concerned if she suddenly went missing. So he decided to just play it safe and just befriend her and then slowly but surely have her isolate herself from anyone who may take her away from him. He apologized for bumping into her and introduced himself to her.

She smiled at him and helped him get up and then introduced herself. Her name was (Y/n) (L/n) and she was around his age and she didn't live very far from what they were at. He offered to walk her home, claiming that it was the least that he could do for her which she agreed to let him do.  They chatted while walking back to her house. He loved listening to her speak. It was the most enchanting voice that he had ever heard. He learnt that she attended (name of school) and that she worked part time to help out her single working mother with the bills. He learnt quite a bit about her during their conversation and made sure to be careful with what he told her about him. 

Unfortunately soon they reached her house and they had to part ways but fortunately, she gave him her number so that they could stay in contact.

He immediately went home and called up as many people that he knew to find out more information about her. He wanted to know every single little thing about her, from what she ate for breakfast last week to her plans for the future.

He pulled strings to have someone spread rumors about her in her school, which made her classmates isolate themselves from her and bully her relentlessly. He became her shoulder to cry while this happened and when the bullies went too far, he paid someone to teach them a lesson. He gave the school an anonymous tip about her part time job which made her lose the job.

Over the years, almost everyone else in her life became distant memories and the only person that refused to leave her side was her mom who was too busy with her work to realize what was happening to her daughter. 

In the year 2012, Hanma and (Y/n) started dating, Hanma subtly controlled the entire relationship, making sure that (Y/n) acted the way that he wanted her to act and that she had no way to escape their relationship. Two years later, he proposed and they got married six months later. The twins were born not long after their marriage. The twins were a boy and a girl and their names were Kisaki and Kikyo. 

Hanma made sure to provide for his family that they would want for nothing. And he didn't regret a single thing that he had done to get his family.

It was Fate.

@kurisano

[heaven-s-black-box]

Learned to Love- Belphegor x fem!Reader

Return to File

Recovery date: December 4th, 2020

Description: Belphegor falls in love with a human, and he’s awkward when they hang out because he isn’t used to being around someone he isn’t using.

Notes: Recovered in conjunction with @coolathenalentz93, we appreciate their contribution.

Word count: 620

Back to directory

“Isn’t it a little late for a pretty girl like yourself to be out alone?” A voice spoke out behind Y/N.

Y/N smiled slightly, kicking her feet in the dirt. She was sitting on a swing in a small park, watching the few cars pass by.

“Unfortunately, my date’s running a little late.”

The swing beside her creaked, as the young man took a seat.

“Wow, why would anyone wanna be late meeting you?” He chuckled.

“I dunno Bel, you tell me.” Y/N looked over at him. 

“I told you, new souls to tourture,” he laughed. “I missed you.”

He reached out and pulled her towards him. Belphegor kissed her forehead, before letting her rest her head on his shoulder. They sat in silence for a few moments.

They’d met nearly a year ago when Y/N had decided to summon a demon out of boredom. At first, Belphegor had decided to torture her. Not physically, he could do that in hell, but mentally. She didn’t know who he was, what he could and had done, she was perfect to manipulate. And at first that was what he did.

He played to her every fancy, giving her everything she asked for. Well, not everything, he was careful not to give away his plan. And then came the attack, and he realized that he wasn’t playing her as much as he thought.

She’d been walking home late one night, and he’d been following from a distance for reasons he didn’t even know, when a plain old crazy had attacked her. His legs moved before he could think, and the nearly killer was thrown into hell.

“So, what did you want to do?” He asked, rubbing her shoulder.

“How about we catch a movie? There’s a few I wouldn’t mind seeing.”

Belphegor stood up and grabbed her hands.

“Lead the way,” he said as he helped her up.

---

“Bel? Beeelll~,” Y/N called, waving her hand in front of his face.

“Huh?” He snapped out of his daze and turned back to her.

“You good? I was asking if you wanted to walk me home, or you know… stay over?” She was looking down.

“Ya, that sounds good.” He smiled and took her hand as they began to walk towards her apartment.

“So, what were you thinking about?” Y/N hummed, swinging their hands.

“Nothing, just how much the world has changed.”

“Since the rock dicks?” She laughed.

“At the time it seemed like a great idea, okay? I guarantee in a few centuries, some of this will seem just as stupid.”

“Ya, ya.”

Not that he would tell her, but he’d actually been watching another couple leaving with their son. It was strange, but a part of him thought it could be them. And a part of him wishes it was.

They arrived at her apartment, and stood side by side in the elevator, with Belphegor getting fidgety.

“I never thought I’d see the great Belphegor get nervous.” Y/N smirked. “Don’t worry, we don’t have to do anything if you’re too nervous.” She giggled, leaning closer to him.

The elevator dinged and they stepped out.

“Hmph, if anyone’s getting nervous, it should be you sweetheart.”

“Then,” she took out her keys and unlocked her door, “what’s up?”

He watched her for a second.

“Just thinking… maybe we could start a family some day. That is, if you’ll have me.”

Y/N stopped taking off her shoes to stare at him with confusion.

“Di-Did you just propose to me?”

“Ha, I guys I did,” he chuckled. “So? Will you marry me?”

Y/N jumped forward, and pulled him into a strong kiss, accidentally knocking their heads together.

“Yes.”

[trekscribbles]

Greatest Need—Chapter 1

Fandom: BBC Merlin

Cross-posted: AO3 and FFN

Summary: Present-day Merlin gave up on the promise that Arthur would return long ago—until he runs into another person he had never hoped to see again. Gwen doesn't remember him, but as more familiar faces start appearing, Merlin wonders if the time of Albion's greatest need is closer than he thought.

Note: Look, I know it's been 10 years, but I'm rewatching Merlin and thinking about this fic again, and hoping that sharing it will help give me the motivation to finish it. This version has been revised because, you know, it's been 10 years.

Gif of modern "Merlin" because he's beautiful.

Merlin

An unfortunate consequence of immortality is that every new face looks familiar. There are only so many shapes of lips and angles of jaws and colors of eyes, and after a few centuries I gave up trying to keep them all straight in my mind. I often find myself staring at a person, trying to recall if I have met them before or if I'm remembering some long-dead ancestor of theirs. It got so bad that over the years, the features and names blurred together in my memory and drove me, eventually, to isolation.

That's not to say I'm an unfriendly man—I consider myself quite cheerful, considering the life I have led. And it is not to say that I confuse everyone, because certain names and faces stick in my memory better than others. But there are only a handful of identities that I have never mistaken, and only because they are my oldest and most-cherished memories. The ghosts of those faces have haunted me for 2,000 years, during which I have seen features so achingly familiar that I wept at the impossibility of it. There were no descendants to which I could turn, no portraits I could find to ease my loneliness. Only my memories.

Gaius had had no children—he often referred to me as the son he'd never had. After he died I had sought out any relatives he might have neglected to tell me about, but he was alone in the world except for those of us in Camelot. Gwen and Arthur had produced no heirs, though after his death Gwen visited Gaius every day for weeks hoping that she might have some final miraculous gift from the King. It never came, and after a few years of urging from the council she took Sir Leon as her husband. I never felt that there was love between them, though there was certainly a great deal of respect and friendship. The two of them never had children, though whether that was by choice or by fate I never asked, and they never told. If Gwaine had had any illegitimate children, which I half-expected and even hoped for, I never found them. Only Percival had had a family, but the last of his line died out long ago, when the tales of Camelot were still considered history rather than myth.

For years I had searched, seeking out every last tie to the friends who fell to mortality while I was forced to continue, but there was nothing to find. Desperate to keep at least the memory of them alive, I'd cast a spell which allowed me to hold the vision of their faces and the sounds of their voices in my mind, so that when the ever-changing world consumed the reality of their existence, I held fast to the knowledge of who they really were.

So when I sat down this morning at the corner table in a tiny coffee shop I occasionally visited, ordered a cup of coffee, and prepared to lose myself in the numbing words of my book, the very last person I'd expected to ask me if I'd like a refill was Guinevere.

I jump, and then she jumps, and I stare while she readjusts her hold on the coffee pot in her hand. "Sorry—ˮ she blurts, and the voice is hers too. I blink, trying to match the image of Queen Guinevere with the girl before me. It is her face exactly, the same gentle brown eyes and bright, nervous smile, but her hair is cut short and she is wearing jeans and a plain green t-shirt under a wrinkled apron.

"Um- sorry," I force out, wondering if my spell is beginning to wear off. "I thought you were someone else."

She smiles the painfully familiar smile of our first meeting in Camelot, gushing friendly cheer and just a touch of awkwardness. "Sorry," she laughs. "Just me."

I catch myself staring again and clear my throat. "Are you new?"

"Yeah—I just started today," she answers readily. "I'm Gwen."

"Gwen," I echo, and I almost choke on the name.

The girl named Gwen wrinkles her nose. "It's short for Gwyneth," she says. "But not even my parents call me that. Isn't that awful?"

"No," I say quickly, but I'm lying. She is not Gwyneth, and for some reason the change of name makes me feel disappointed.

But she just laughs. "It's alright, I'm used to it. Sorry, I don't think I asked your name."

"Oh, I'm—ˮ I pause, trying to remember which appearance I'm wearing. The skin on my hands is smooth—I'm young then, about her age, because I wanted to attend a lecture on Arthurian literature later this afternoon. "Morgan," I answer finally. "I'm Morgan."

"Nice to meet you, Morgan," Gwen smiles, extending her free hand to shake mine. At least I'm not in the stocks this time. Perhaps I'm dreaming? It wouldn't be the first time I've dreamed of meeting my friends again, but in my dreams they appear exactly as they had in Camelot. This girl's hair and clothes are enough to prove that she isn't a figment of my imagination, but I have no other way of explaining her.

"D'you want a refill?" Gwen asks, lifting the coffee pot slightly.

"Er—yes. Thanks." She pours the steaming liquid into my mug, the handle of which I hold steady as I try to think of what to do next. Not much surprises me anymore, but this… how am I to react to this? This girl cannot be Guinevere. She clearly doesn't recognize me, even though I appear exactly the same as I had in Camelot, except for my clothes. And anyway, I was with her when she died—the last of them all, besides me. She had been old then, and sick, and I'd held her hand while the life slipped out of her. So how can she be here, young and beautiful and memory-less? How could she have possibly forgotten?

And yet here she is—modern, but unmistakably Guinevere. She flashes me her familiar brilliant smile and starts to turn away, and I am seized by the sudden fear that if I let her out of my sight I will lose her to the busy crowds of the city and never see her again. "You're new here?" I blurt, trying to think of something to keep her from going.

"Yeah. Just moved here a week ago. My boyfriend lives in town, and I wanted to be closer to him." Her eyes widen as if she's just heard her own words and they didn't match up with the thought she'd had in her head. The expression is so painfully Gwen that I have to clench my jaw to keep from laughing—or crying—or leaping over the table and kissing her. "I mean, not that I moved here just to be with my boyfriend," she goes on, not noticing my reaction. "Obviously I wouldn't do that, but I'm studying at the University and it's nice to know someone in town, you know? My family's not from here, so he's all I've got, but it's good to be able to get out and live my own life." She breaks off, looking vaguely embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm rambling so much."

"No, it's okay," I tell her. "You said your… boyfriend—ˮ I stumble over the word and try not to let the sudden flare of hope show in my voice. If Gwen is back, is it possible that Arthur has followed her? "Your boyfriend lives in town?"

"Mmm-hmm," Gwen nods. "Lance is going to be a policeman. He's studying at the University too."

"Lance," I repeat, more to myself than her. Not what I'd been hoping for, but too much of a coincidence to dismiss completely. "Lance the policeman. He sounds nice."

She smiles at me again. "He is. We only met a few months ago, but it's strange… I feel like I've known him my whole life. Maybe we met as kids or something."

"Or in another life," I say quietly. Gwen gives me an odd look, as if she's trying to decide if I'm making fun of her. "I just mean," I go on, hoping I haven't offended her. "You know, some people believe that when you meet someone and get on really well right away, it's because the souls recognize each other. And I mean—Gwen and Lance?" I smile in what I hope is a disarming way. "That's a nice coincidence."

She laughs. "You mean like King Arthur? My soul is Guinevere and his is Lancelot?"

"It could happen," I shrug.

"You're strange," she giggles, and then breaks off, horrified. "I don't mean that in a nasty way," she adds quickly, and my stomach flips at the familiar words. "You're just… funny. I like that."

When had she said that to me before? Not long after our first meeting, I am sure, but I can't recall the events surrounding her words. They were her words though—Guinevere's, my Guinevere's. The best friend besides Arthur I'd ever known. Not even my lifetime is long enough for me to forget the moments we'd shared—especially not with the added enhancement of my spell. How can this be happening?

"Do you come here often?" Gwen asks, covering up my silence with her unquenchable friendliness.

"Yes," I lie. I like coffee shops, and I've been to this one a few times before, but as a rule I try not to frequent one establishment over another.

"Good," she smiles. "Then I'll see you again?"

I push my confusion and questions aside and return her smile. "Yeah. That'd be nice."

She gives me a parting, dazzling smile and turns away, and this time I let her go.

[onepandaparfait]

I saw the Betty Boop musical in Chicago.

The premise of the show is that Betty, overwhelmed and exhausted by fame, wants to take a vacation where no one knows who she is. She gets her wish thanks to one of Grampy’s wacky inventions that transports her to 2023. Unfortunately, Betty attracts attention wherever she goes.

Non-Spoiler thoughts: I really liked the show. I hope the songs are released online soon. It reminded me of the Barbie movie. The show is a lot of fun and very camp. I hope they don’t change too much if it goes to Broadway, because the campiness is what makes it so enjoyable and the actress who plays Betty is perfect for the role.

Full plot Summary and Spoilers below:

Betty travels to 2023 and meets a young girl who is a major Betty Boop fan. The girl immediately takes her home to her aunt, who is a campaign manager, and Betty meets the girl’s nanny, Duane, who is Betty’s love interest. The little girl has trauma, because both her parents died, and she latches onto Betty due to her own low self-confidence. Betty is able to fix her. Duane takes Betty on a date to a jazz club, where Betty sings on stage and becomes instantly famous. Meanwhile, Grampy travels to 2023 to find Betty, because without her their world is falling apart. He is distracted from his task, because he has fallen in love with a scientist, he met 40 years ago (they are the same age now). Once it’s revealed that Betty is a famous cartoon woman the entire world wants her. An evil politician uses Betty’s fame to boost himself in the polls. When Betty confronts him about this, he tries to uhhh sexually assault her, but Betty is able to stop him. Then Betty helps the aunt run for mayor and the aunt wins. Then just when Betty and Duane have fallen in love, Grampy catches up with her and tells her she must come home. Betty does and is sad. But it’s all ok in the end because Grampy’s girlfriend creates a device that allows everyone to travel through dimensions to visit each other.

It's an insane plot. I wouldn’t change a thing. Positive and Negative thoughts:

• Betty arrives in 2023 at NYC ComicCon (they mention it by name). There are a lot of pop culture references here and at first, I was scared the whole show would be like this, but it was just for the one song.

• They used a mix of screens and set pieces to bring the 1920s cartoon world of Betty Boop to life. I wish they did a little more surreal stuff in the background like in the cartoons, but the level they did for the show is good enough to not be distracting.

• Lots of little shoutouts to the cartoons. They mention the time Betty ran for President. Even the choreography is a shoutout, as I recognized some dances Betty does from the cartoons.

• The Pudgy puppet was so cute and the audience clapped every time it did anything.

• Betty’s love interest being a trumpet player who likes jazz is a good base for a character, but he could’ve been a little more interesting.

• This relates to the previous point, but in the end when the 2023 characters visit Betty in the cartoon world, my friend and I were hoping that the love interest would turn into Bimbo or Koko. Bimbo and Koko are not mentioned in the show, but they are alluded to in some background set pieces.

• Speaking of the love interest, there’s a dumb YOU LIED TO ME plot, but it gets resolved quickly.

• Was the Grampy has sex plotline necessary?

• Betty is god btw. Her 1920s cartoon world starts to collapse because without her no one has a reason to exist. Betty is even able to manipulate some elements of the 2023 world. For a while, I thought the show was going to end with Betty merging her two worlds together.

[as8bakwthesage]

So since I've been delving into the "Loki" series, I may as well talk about my old ass OC who recently got a redesign--

Mariyam Titaniana is a half Sidhe (pronounced "shee") or Fae and half Human. Specifically, she is the daughter of Titania, the Fairy Queen, and a human man named Amram.

However, way before Mariyam was even born, there's a bit of info I need to go over before I can discuss her.

...

Sidhe didn't really like Asgardians. Mostly because they came and tried to rule over Earth, the home of the Sidhe. They fought against the Asgardians and even caused a great deal of issues for Odin and Hela. But when Odin became a benevolent king all those years ago, he made peace with the Sidhe. As a result, the Fairy Queen was allowed on Asgard a few times.

That's how she ended up meeting Loki and Thor. And due to her own supernatural powers, she sees that Loki will become a vital part of her future daughter's life. He would become this future daughter's intended. So the Fairy Queen put an enchantment on him.

"When you fall to the stars, guided by Our light, you shall land in the waiting hands of a girl with the darkest eyes and the brightest hair."

Loki was just a child when this happened.

Fast forward a few hundred years and an Iranian family moved to Ireland in the 1800s. Amram and the Fairy Queen met as a result. They met by sheer accident and Amram was deeply fascinated by her and she with him due to him not fearing her.

The Fairy Queen did not give him a name to call her, so Amram chose to name her based off of "A Midsummer's Eve" by Shakespeare. Henceforth, she adopted the name Titania to use around humans.

Mariyam was born ten years into Titania's and Amram's friendship. And I say friendship because, well, Titania felt no romantic feelings for him. They were more quasiplatonic and his were romantic love. He accepted this because he knew she could never feel that way about him due to the very nature of Sidhe.

Titania left Mariyam in Amram's care. She was present for Mariyam's life, but she really couldn't focus too much on her daughter's life unfortunately. However, when it became clear that Mariyam aged far slower than an average human, Amram moved to the countryside in order to be closer to Titania and to avoid suspicious eyes on their child.

Mariyam grew up in an idyllic house in the country. She was happy and beloved by all. However, when she appeared to be 15 after 70 years of being alive, her father died of old age. Titania saw how alone her daughter was and told her that someday, she'd bring Mariyam a suitor.

Fast forward another 100 years and Mariyam is a fully grown adult who ends up still living alone in the country. But that all changes when a man by the name of Loki ends up at her doorstep.

So Mariyam's fully convinced this is the suitor her mother promised her and Loki, who had just released Thor's hand and abandoned his family on Asgard, is absolutely baffled and confused by this weird half-human who keeps insisting she's a Fae and that he's supposed to marry her.

Suffice to say, Mariyam doesn't have a lot of social skills, partly because Sidhe are weird and because she's been isolated for most of her life to protect her.

So Loki manipulates her and they eventually get picked up by Thanos' soldiers after some dimension hopping nonsense and then the events of "Avengers" happen. But with the change that Loki is being toyed with and manipulated and Mariyam's trying to stop him.

Obviously, MCU stuff happens and Mariyam follows Loki around for most of the events right up until he is killed by Thanos. At that point, Loki and Mariyam have well and truly fallen in love and she's motivated him into being a better person. Heartbroken, Mariyam goes about trying to find a way to undo what happened, leading to her getting tracked down by the TVA and her having to run away.

So the events of "Loki' start. Mobius shows Loki what happens to him in the "future". Loki sees who Mariyam is to him. He's trying to wrap his head around the fact that this weird and socially inept girl who he barely knows is someone he forms a deep bond with. (Because at this point, Loki has just been arrested by the Avengers before escaping.) However, Mobius tells him that the TVA is trying to track down a rogue variant, who turns out to be Sylvie, and they need Loki's help.

Stuff happens and Mariyam eventually runs into Sylvie while running away. She decides to start following her around, much to Sylvie's annoyance. However, when the TVA and Loki turn up to catch Sylvie, Mariyam is so happy to see Loki. Some more events of "Loki" goes down with Mariyam in the picture (and none of the weird sylki shit). In this version, there's a lot more of Mobius in the picture and a lot more of Sylvie being the antagonist. By the end, Sylvie and Loki end up meeting He Who Remains with Mariyam and Mobius having to go back to the TVA. Sylvie sends Loki back to the TVA and she kills HWR, beginning the events of season 2.

Throughout my version of season 1, Loki, Mobius, and Mariyam are all shipped to hell and back and there's so much bisexual it's beautiful.

Season 2 obviously starts the same, but I have no idea how it will end in my AU, but things are definitely gonna be changed up.

[sometimesraven]

Need (NSFW)

Whumptober No. 15: “I don't need you to help me I can handle things myself.” Makeshift Bandages | Suppressed Suffering | “I’m fine.”

Fandom: Dragon Age Inquisition POV Character: f!Lavellan Whumpee: Lavellan

Miriel doesn't want to allow herself to let another person in after Solas, but she may not have any choice.

AO3 Link

Lavellan was getting sloppy again. She grunted gracelessly as she tightened the bandage she was applying with her teeth, the tightness of it around her injured arm pinching and bruising the skin around the gash. The day she'd stop running into corrupted packs of animals driven mad by red lyrium or some other demon-infested landscape would be the day she'd retire happily, but for now keeping Orlais and Ferelden clear of corruption was errands that kept her busy between Red Jenny missives.

Unfortunately, adjusting to only having one arm to fight with was something difficult enough without the extra added clumsiness that her daily fatigue levels caused at times. Now she stumbled back to her home in Halamshiral, patching herself up with less than a little enthusiasm. She was out of bandages, of course, so one of her favourite towels was sacrificed for this, just to rub metaphorical salt into the literal wound.

Gods, she was tired. She couldn't remember the last time she had a day off, but that was how the cogs turned. Rifts or no, Anchor or no, the Inquisitor still had a job to do. Once upon a time she might have taken a day or two to rest, goaded by the firmly concerned gaze of an Elvhen God, but he wasn't here. She knew better than to put her life in another's hands, these days.

"Miri?" Shit. She didn't realise Adris was home. Her Red Jenny best friend had taken up lodging with her some time ago, if only to provide each other with some company, but she was usually out running her own errands. Must have been an easy one today. "You okay, Hol?"

Hol. Miri scoffed at the nickname. She'd objected to being called 'Your Holiness' enough times that it had stuck. "Fine," she called back, aware that she didn't sound entirely convincing.

"Sure?" Adris' head poked around the wetroom door, the serpentstone-green lines of her vallaslin creasing as she frowned at the sight of the blood soaked towel haphazardly tied to Miriel's bare arm. "You don't look fine."

"Just a scratch," she tried, ignoring the pounding headache she'd started to develop. "I met the wrong end of a blighted bear."

"Shit." Adris let herself in, kneeling in front of her and moving to lift the towel out of the way before Lavellan could protest. "That looks gnarly, Mir. I'll clean it up for you."

"I'm fine," she hissed, quickly slapping her friend's hand away and forcing herself unsteadily to her feet. "I have things to do."

"Don't do that," Adris sighed, standing to face her with an exhasparated sigh, "Don't do this 'I don't need anyone I'm the Inquisitor' routine again. This is the third time in a week you've come home injured, Miri. That's not a coincidence, that's you struggling."

"I don't need help." Miriel's words were sharp but her heart pounded in her chest. She didn't need this. It wasn't worth the risk. Adris' hazel eyes pierced through her; she saw her in a way that was all too familiar and if she looked too long... "I don't need you. I can handle this."

"For the love of-.." Adris shook her head, conjuring a small flame in her hand and gesturing to it. "You're talking to a mage, Lavellan. You live with a mage. And yet you'd rather stand there looking paler than a wraith, suffering rather than let me fix it in literally a couple of seconds. How proud are you?"

"Proud?" Was she serious? "This isn't a matter of pride, Adris."

"Yes it is! You're too proud to admit you still need help, all because some fucking man broke your heart. Don't you see how stupid this is?"

"Broke my heart?" Miriel's fury died almost immediately, snuffed faster than the flame. She didn't have the strength to fight this. Didn't have the energy to scream and shout like she always did. "When I discovered the explosion at the Conclave... when I leaned that I had led my Elana to her death? That was hearbreak. What Solas did-.. The way he left. The lies he told. The truth of him. The things he told me; the things he showed me. That's not heartbreak, Adris. I don't have a word for that. And I can't-.."

Clenching her jaw, she lowered her gaze. Adris' eyes were too soft. Too understanding. She couldn't bear the feeling in her chest in seeing them. The reality of what was happening. "I can't do this. I can't let you-.."

"Let me what?" Without skipping a beat, Adris was in front of her. Her hand was on Miriel's cheek, forcing her to meet her gaze again. "Touch you? Help you? Miri... I don't care how broken you think you are. I don't care that you still love him, or that you want to help him. I care that you can survive until then. I care that you can learn to heal. I care-!"

Miriel couldn't stop herself. Adris' lips were soft and warm as Lavellan stole them into hers, barely hesitating for a moment before they explored her in return. Even as tears streaked Miri's cheeks they didn't part, pulling closer together until their bodies were pressed in a tight embrace. Even as they parted for air, they remained together; breathless and shivering with the strength of the emotion washing between them.

"I do still love him," Miriel whispered, resting her forehead against Adris' with a whimper. "I do. But-.."

"I don't care," Adris returned, closing her eyes and pressing a little closer, like she couldn't stand even a breath between them, "I want you. I've wanted you since the day we met, Miri. I don't care if he comes back. I don't care if he joins us, or-.. or if I have to leave the day you get him back. I don't care. I think-.. I love you."

Miriel choked on a sob, pain shooting through her chest at the sound of those words said aloud. Before she could speak -- before she could return the sentiment or even breathe, there was a tugging warmth on her injured arm. The magic Adris was using to heal her was familiar; the sharp rush of power made ever more potent by their proximity.

In a sudden surge of strength Miri shoved against Adris, pushing her to sit and straddling her lap. Adris grinned up at her, hands firmly around her waist as she feverishly tugged at the larger woman's smallclothes, scarcely bothering to do more than lift her skirts and tug her underwear away before the other's swiftly hardening cock was in her hand. She lifted her gaze to meet Adris' as she stroked a gentle touch across the shaft, revelling in the tiny gasps and shivering breaths she drew from her.

"You sure about this, Quizzy?" Adris breathed, her voice rough with lust as one of her hands inched closer to Miriel's waistband. "The Inquisitor and another elven apostate... people will talk."

Her tone was playful as always, but Miriel didn't miss the deeper question there, her hand stilling for a moment. For a moment she wondered if this was a betrayal. She had love in her heart for two, but Solas wasn't here. He wouldn't know until it was far too late to turn back.

Did she care? How much of her life was she willing to give to the thought of him? The dream of him? How much longer could she truly wait for him?

Almost in answer, she moved her hand away -- only to rest it over one of Adris' and guide her slowly to dip beneath the fabric of her trousers. The grin crept back onto Adris' lips, her fingers dipping low to explore the damp folds of Miriel's sex, circling the tight bud of nerves there and chuckling lowly as her breath hitched.

There was a pause, thick with tension and shuddering breaths, before a flurry of movement took them both; freeing each other swiftly of their underwear. Miriel's skin prickled with sweat, breaths shuddering with anticipation as she lined herself up with Adris' length, feeling the others' firm hands supporting her while she lowered herself slowly onto her. There was scarcely a moment before they were rocking into each other, neither able to wait even a second to feel the friction between them. Their panting filled the quiet room, foreheads pressed together and hands roaming one another's bodies. Adris' hands were all over Miriel, tracing gentle touches across her tummy, up her shirt to massage circles into her breasts, unable to stop for a moment like her fingertips were mapping every curve and inch of her body while she still could.

Miriel could scarcely return the attention, her hand anchoring herself tightly on Adris' shoulder, nails digging into her back until she moaned at the sharp pleasure-pain. Adris groaned as they rocked harder and faster against each other, shifting to pull up Miri's shirt properly and kiss her breasts, following each scar and line and nipping at her collar. The attention after so long was too much, electricity sparking and dancing in Lavellan's stomach and drawing breathless cries from her throat that only grew sharper as one of Adris' hands lowered to her clit to draw circles there, gazing up at her with hooded, adoring eyes and heavy moans of her own.

"You feel so good," Adris breathed, their breaths alone burning against Miriel's skin, "'fraid I c-can't drag this out..."

"Shut up," Miri hissed, using her stump arm to tilt Adris' gaze towards her, "and come for me. I want to feel full. I w-want to feel loved; to f-fenedhis-!"

Adris cut her off with a quick nip to her collar, meeting her words with a loud whimper and a heavy, stuttering thrust to punctuate the full, warm feeling that only spread as stars exploded behind Miriel's eyes, pulsing through her like lightning as she rode out her climax with a wail, collapsing against Adris while her body shook and tremored with aftershocks and the energy quickly drained from her.

"Gods-.. you're-.. better than anything," Adris breathed, cradling her for a moment before carefully shifting to lift them apart and sit Miri down instead, carefully allowing her exhausted form to rest backward while she cleaned them both up. Miri's strength had completely left her, but the haze in her head was welcome rather than heavy, and Adris' touch was delicate and attentive. She hummed softly as she was lifted and carried out of the room, rested on the bed with a kiss to her forehead and a cup of water on the bedside. "Rest well, Quizzy. I'll be here when you get your strength back."

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

"Take a Chance on Me" for the made-up fic title :D

Here's some modern with magic AU Yenralt:

Geralt and Yennefer were lovers off and on for centuries, but finally ended things a couple of decades ago and have only seen each other in passing since.

A few years ago, Geralt claimed the Law of Surprise after he saved a young couple's lives and didn't think anything else of it... until he gets a call from a lawyer and learns that the couple has recently died and he's now their daughter's legal guardian.

Geralt wants nothing to do with raising a kid, until he meets Ciri and it hits him that he's destined to be this girl's dad.

Unfortunately, her grandmother is fighting for custody in court and her primary argument is that he's a witcher who lives alone and his lifestyle isn't conducive to raising a little girl.

Realizing that there's a good chance he'll lose the custody case, Geralt turns to Yennefer and asks her to pretend that they're back together and will be raising Ciri together.

Yennefer is initially reluctant, but she's met Calanthe a few times and dislikes her, so she decides that she'll put up with her ex-lover for a few months if it means making Calanthe's life more difficult.

Geralt and Ciri move into Yennefer's house with her and they tell everyone, including their friends and family, that they've gotten back together. Geralt and Yennefer make a production of acting all lovey dovey when they're in public, which is easy, because they were together for so long and remember what it was like.

But Calanthe has people following them and most likely watching their house, so they have to step it up. Geralt starts sleeping in Yennefer's room, just so no one notices the lights on in the guest room where he's been sleeping. And then they may as well start having sex, right? It's not like either of them can hook up with anyone else right now? And they're both too old to let a little thing like fucking make things complicated.

You're never too old for denial

Geralt and Yennefer fall into a pattern where it almost feels like old time, except now they have a kid to curb their more unhealthy impulses for. Yennefer grows close to Ciri and starts to forget that she and Geralt are only doing this as a ruse.

They finally win their custody case, granting Geralt primary custody of Ciri. The next day, Yennefer comes home to find Geralt and Ciri's things packed. They don't need to pretend to be a couple anymore, after all.

There's a big blowout fight and Geralt leaves with Ciri. Yennefer is devastated, not that she'll admit it, and Geralt isn't doing much better. It's not until their respective friends sit them down to talk some sense into them that they're both able to admit that their relationship may have been fake, but it didn't feel fake and they've fallen back in love.

Geralt goes back to Yennefer and apologizes for leaving. They both confess that they want to get back together for real and Geralt and Ciri move back in with Yennefer, for good this time.

Send me a made-up fic title and I’ll tell you what I would write to go with it

[yhamh]

12 from the kissing prompts 😘 tuckson of course

Sorry this took me longer than I'd planned. I was feeling under the weather these last few days. Hope you enjoy!

Takes One To Know Me

The air in the 1-6 took on a different feel whenever they had a case to solve. There were a lot of things he could say about SVU but he would never be able to say that Liv’s squad weren’t passionate about their job.

To say that Ed was disappointed that his evening plans with Liv had been curtailed by a case would be an understatement. But, still, he understood the job and he understood how much the job meant to her. So when it became obvious that she was knee deep in it he decided to bow out gracefully and in as brusque a tone as he could muster - and mostly for her squad’s benefit - he said, “Lieutenant, walk me out.”

She gave him a side eye because it was phrased as a demand rather than a request and he was hard pressed not to smile. It wasn’t so long ago that she would have given him an earful about being high handed. Part of him kind of missed the antagonism she had enjoyed throwing his way over the years. But as he quickly looked her up and down he thought that he enjoyed playing nice with her so much more.

As she followed him to the elevators she said in a soft voice, “I’m really sorry about -”

“I understand,” he cut her off as he pressed the call button. She could easily spend the rest of the night apologizing and he hated that she felt the need to make excuses for who she was. He had walked into this relationship with open eyes. Besides - hadn’t she made a joke not so long ago that he slept with his walkie-talkie under his pillow? Liv wasn’t the only one who woke up to 2AM work calls. “How about I head to your place? Let Lucy go home and I’ll have some dinner ready for you when you’re done burning the midnight oil.”

“I don’t know how long this is gonna be,” she said as she bit her lip.

“It’s fine,” he said with a shrug. “Noah and I will make a night of it - boy’s night in. I’ll let him eat too many cookies and stay up half an hour later than usual.”

Against her will she gave him a full blown smile just as the elevator arrived and opened before him. “I’d kiss you if I could,” she said with relief. As much as she loved Lucy she knew that she hated leaving Noah with his nanny for so long.

He peered over her shoulder and when he saw that no one was looking he quickly grabbed her by the waist and pulled her with him into the elevator just as the doors were closing.

“Ed, what the h-” But he cut off her protest with a kiss on the lips. The words died on her lips as she gave in to the urgency he felt whenever their mouths touched. One of his hands reached up to tangle in her hair and pull her deeper against him and she met him in kind.

Unfortunately it was a short elevator ride to the parking level and before he even had time to cop a feel the elevator dinged and they parted just in time when the doors opened to reveal two officers.

“Until next time, Benson,” he said sternly but he couldn’t keep a straight face because when he gave her one last look she looked like a dazed woman who had just been thoroughly kissed.

Maybe the night wasn’t a total loss after all.