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fairlyabookie · 6 days
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Commissions
Hello friends! After a while, I've decided to bring back commissions. Please refer to my Ko-Fi for information and price points!
I've already provided a link to my intro post if anyone is interested!
Thank you!
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fairlyabookie · 11 days
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Moonlight Tears
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Author’s note: platonic | mental health
Stars twinkle in a canvas of navy, the moon a pearly white amidst the sea of darkness. Droplets ripples on a calm lake. Rustling leaves crack under footfalls, following a sniffle. More droplets disturb the water’s surface. A silhouette emerges by the water’s edge.
“All by yourself, human?”
Emerald eyes land on a petite figure. The individual shrinks in their seat, not wanting to be seen or heard.
[Reader] spares a quick glance to the fae, who perks an eyebrow, an amused smile by his lips. In his usual nighttime strolls, he’d encounter the human, sometimes in contemplative meditation or meandering steps about Ramshackle Dorm, often would accompany him in his strolls, quietly tagging along until they parted ways.
He thought of a spirited [Reader], an excited friend willing to tag along with another, but something was odd; they didn’t seem to notice his presence.
Their shoulders slouch, their lips quiver, even their cheeks red from streaks..
There was something wrong..
“[Reader]?”
He places a hand on their shoulder.
“I’m fine, Malleus.”
They mutter quietly.
“You appear not to, my dear friend,”
He hesitates, thinking of solutions he could possibly provide.
“What troubles you?”
“You don’t have to worry about me..”
“Allow me to trouble myself with you, human. We may not talk too often in our strolls, but you’ve been great company in those times. Come, speak.”
The fae’s patient tone turns firm and pointed, [Reader] flinching as they feel a sharp squeeze by their shoulder. They turn to the fae, emerald eyes reflecting their eyes as a tear streaked visage manifests before him. They heave, as if carrying a great burden of emotions with them, their eyes glazing over more tears.
“I..”
Thus begins [Reader]’s tale of woes, their pain unraveling to the night sky.
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fairlyabookie · 15 days
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Saccharine
Author's note: vampire au | established relationships | mentions of blood, alcohol | character is of age
“You’re mine.” 
A growl following frantic nibbles along one’s ear, 
“Easy, Rin.” 
[Reader] gasps, a hand pressing onto the youth’s shoulder as warm breaths fan over the skin adjacent to their neck. For a brief moment, they can almost glimpse red by those eyes, a flash of hunger that can only mean the hunger for blood. Maybe they were hallucinating - the wine from their dinner party still circulating in their system.
“Let me shower, Rin. I know how you hate the smell of humans; can you be a dear and wait for me?” 
Rin maintained his grip on his lover, steely teal eyes gazing upon [Reader] as if to want them right then and there. Such words proved futile, much to [Reader]’s dismay. He towers over [Reader], cold fingers lacing [Reader]’s warm ones. He strokes their cheek, his knuckle feather-light against their skin, as if a touch would hurt them. 
Perhaps the night where he had to distance himself for [Reader]’s socializing amongst the elite had taken a toll- first, it was their gorgeous countenance dressed for the night, and now, it was the combined stench of wine and human mingling with their scent. Now, Rin needed to get greedy - as the Prince of the Night, he could do that one thing he could always do: claim [Reader] as his own.
Sharp teeth graze the skin by the clavicle, a teasing tongue licking upon veins, sending shivers to one’s spine. 
“So sweet..”
Rin mumbles, barely holding back a grunt as he feels the temptation grow stronger. The craving clawing about to the point of wanting to bite [Reader] right then and there. Whimpers meekly utter from their lips as Rin tightens his grip on their waist, his entire being nearly entrapping them. 
“Rin-“ 
The boy captures their lips with his. 
“Shhh, my love, it’ll be over before you know it.” 
He spares a moment for [Reader] to ponder his words; swollen lips and a trail of saliva accompany a dazed expression. Truly a sight to behold. Yet, Rin wanted more: 
Their love. 
“Look at me, my love.”
Reader obliges, gazing upon hypnotizing teal. 
“May I?”
[Reader] nods an affirmative, earning a passionate kiss with Rin before eliciting a lustful sigh. They rest a hand on his shoulder, muttering an affirmative before Rin bites down, drinking in the blood he had claimed to be sweet. 
Exquisitely saccharine blood intoxicates the vampire, groans escaping his lips as he feels [Reader] writhe before him. He rubs circles on their hands until he lets out, tasting a bitter aftertaste - perhaps from the wine. 
He dares not think about the consequences, gazing upon his lover affectionately before getting caught off guard with a kiss from [Reader]. 
“You don’t have to do that, my dear Rin. I’m already yours.” 
A smile accompanies their words, igniting what was Rin's affection for his human.
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fairlyabookie · 19 days
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Hello friends! I’m still alive, just getting busy with life and whatnot.
Updates:
- provided a new journal pdf
- I’m still writing! But not as much as I’d like nowadays
- picked up crocheting and knitting!
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fairlyabookie · 3 months
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More Than a Friendship?
Author’s note: it’s been a hot minute since I last posted! Have a little something and happy new year!
Prompt: How would they hide their pining?
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The second year would keep his little secret to himself, yet letting snippets and whispers to Azul and Floyd when the two would ask about his affections. He wouldn’t dare openly admit that he had an affinity to his crush; besides, he found them charming, someone whom he found amusing yet charming in their own way.
He’d feel giddy when his crush would come by to Mostro Lounge for a visit, prioritizing them as an important customer and outright offering the best menu item of the day. Why, he’d invite them to a trip up the mountains with him, where he’d show them the many mushrooms' nature has to offer.
He is not a man to discomfort his crush, so much so that if Floyd were to get the word out, he’d personally deal with his twin and confess in his own time. Besides, he highly values his friendship with his crush and therefore, would rather let his pining fester until he is ready to tell. The Leech twin has a few cards in his sleeve, and whether it may be, he’d play them carefully so slowly and truthfully, he can reveal to them that he had been in love.
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It would take Ruggie a while to piece together that he has a crush on someone. He’d ask around about his condition: palpating heartbeats, his cheeks burning up; heck, his ears twitching. He couldn’t tell Leona - hell, the third year would probably tease the hell out of him if word gets out.
On the other hand, Ruggie would do his best to value his friendship with his crush, making time for them to make memories and provide support when they need it. Though, it would be hard for Ruggie to tell his crush the words, the sentiments, the sensations he feels when he is with his crush. On the contrary, he’d worry about ruining the friendship..
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This man would confide in everyone in his innermost circle about this growing affinity towards a particular student; even Sebek would know of this ‘affection’ to the point he might’ve antagonized this student for distracting Malleus. Alas, Malleus would be enlightened with the many teachings of wooing someone, stemming from Lilia’s courting to the modern interpretation of flirting. Would he be able to apply these concepts to his crush, time would only tell.
Yet, Malleus would contemplate these sentiments - why, how is he developing such intense feelings towards a human out of all people? Has this person casted a spell on him? That question he didn’t want to answer just yet.
If anything, he wanted to see for himself if this human truly had casted a spell on him; on that logic, the others would’ve already alerted him on that matter. However, though this relationship may be temporary, Malleus would still cling on the hope that he’d make a lasting friendship and memory from this interesting human.
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fairlyabookie · 6 months
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Rin Itoshi is the type of boyfriend to…
Initiate cuddles with you when you at least expect it
Does forehead kisses as a goodnight kiss
Holds you close in crowded places
Who would tease you for a little mistake and watch your reaction; teases you even more for pouting
Let you sleep in his room whenever you take a nap
Meticulously plan dates to the T for the perfect date with you; saves pictures of dates in a little album
Would keep all the souvenirs from the dates in his locker/bag
Would want to do your hair, but cutely fail at it.
The first to wake up, so he can watch your sleeping expression in the morning
Hold your hand by the pinkie in public places, but hold your hand at home
Call you pet names behind closed doors and change your contact name constantly to reflect that.
Watch you affectionately whenever you’re in your element
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fairlyabookie · 7 months
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Quiet time
Author's note: my second Blue lock fanfic, featuring Rin Itoshi!
Content: established relationship | implied older! reader x younger! Rin | fluff | pet names | gender neutral reader
You wake up to thunderous rain, meager light seeping into your room. The rain was a perfect addition to your already soporous state; the urge to sleep was more tempting with the haven of blankets and plushies on your bed. A sudden chime from the doorbell dissipates your fatigue, any signs of sleep quickly leaving your body. 
“A moment,” 
You suppress a yawn, quickly opening the door for the incoming guest. 
“Rin.. wha-what happened?” 
Dull teal eyes underneath soaked raven locks, alarm bells instantly ring off by your mind. 
“Come on in, I’ll get you a towel.” 
You coax, your hand barely ghosting over Rin’s. 
“I’m fine, [Reader]. It’s just a little rain.” 
He croaks, his fingers enveloping your hand. Cold.. You dare not to wince.
“Get in the shower first. I’ll get you something to change-“ 
Just as you enter your room to grab some clothes, you feel a firm grip by your wrist. 
“I have my change of clothes, [Reader].”
“What?” 
“I have my change of clothes.” 
Rin says firmly, tugging on your wrist. Moving closer to him, you place a hand around his frame, drawing circles on his back. You knew better not to ask; Rin had a penchant not to talk about his sentiments or feelings often - on the contrary, he had an unique way of portraying them. 
“Let me know if you need anything, okay?” 
“[Reader]…” 
“Yes, Rin?” 
“Can I stay with you for tonight?” 
You give pause, barely registering what was said to you until you glimpse teal eyes imploring you. Knowing him, he isn’t very vocal about spending time with you as you’d spoil him when you’re with him. Perhaps, today was different. 
“Yes, Rin.” 
A small smile graces Rin’s lips, something you rarely see from your partner. You muster a smile back, before patting him on the shoulder. 
“Before we go into a cuddling session, let’s shower, hmm? Don’t want you to catch a cold.” 
Rin quietly complies, giving your hand a squeeze before departing to the bathroom. You brace for a teasing remark from him, but it didn’t come; he went to the bathroom without a word. Perhaps I’ll cook him some food to comfort him. You slip into the kitchen, preparing a meal suitable for an athlete. 
A short while later, Rin emerges from the bathroom, inhaling the fragrance of your shampoo - a mixture of floral notes with citrus. It felt like a welcoming and loving essence that reminded him of you, warm and welcoming. He spots your petite figure by the kitchen, plating up what would be a delectable meal for one. Disregarding his heart melting from the sight of your cooking, he wraps his arms around your waist from behind, nuzzling against the crook of your neck.
As if expecting him, you greet him with a smile. 
“Did that make you feel better, Rin?”
He merely nods, hugging your figure tightly. 
“Feeling hungry yet? I’ve made something for you.” 
“No, [Reader].”
“No?”
You suppress the urge to pout, but almost failing when he replies, 
“The couch..” 
There was something about the way he said or his body language that almost resembled that of a sulking kid. You decide against commenting about it. 
“Okay, big boy.”
With ease, the athlete carries you to the couch, where Rin’s figure wraps around yours completely. You play with his locks under his gaze, occasionally making eye contact with him as if looking for a statement. 
“…”
His arms lock on around your waist, his nose nuzzling against your shoulder. 
“Bad day?”
He nods slightly, watching your fingers brush away a stray lock. You don’t prod further, mustering a small smile.
Fatigue seeps into Rin’s body as time passes, but he stays awake, as if wanting to say something to you. He had a long day of practice; doing a scrimmage with a team and losing afterwards. His ego shattered, Rin started exerting himself to the point of exhaustion - yet, he didn’t make progress. Frustrated, he walked out in the rain to your apartment where he found solace with your presence.
Albeit older than him, you gave him space, even spoiled him occasionally and spoke up for him. “Big boy” and “baby” were your pet names for him; he didn’t particularly like it at first but, for now, he didn’t mind it - it would give him butterflies whenever you refer to him as such. 
He was not one to speak out his thoughts, but you’d be there to listen whenever he wanted to say anything. Rin, years younger than you, felt he needed to prove himself to be worthy of your love, the sense of competition to usurp your previous lovers intense like his drive to beat his older brother in soccer. 
He wouldn’t dare to show a pathetic side of him to you, hoping you’d find him cool. According to you, he was already cool. That thought alone made him happy, although a bit unsatisfied.
Before he could let sleep overcome him, he spares a glance to you. 
“I’m here for you, my sleepy prince.”
That new name sparks a smile on his lips before he drifts off to sleep. 
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fairlyabookie · 9 months
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WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE’RE HAVINGG A BUNNY EVENT???
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fairlyabookie · 9 months
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I'm Dreaming
Author's note: A late bday gift for @mcdonaldsnumberone! This is my first time writing bllk - Sorry if this seems ooc! Hope you enjoy!
Note: implied established relationship | pet names
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You stare at the reflection draped in pastel blues and subtle white, a bold corset outlining your bust, accompanied by a lavish bow at the waistline. This dress was different from what you'd typically wear for formal events: romantic yet feminine, bold yet commonplace. The colors were perfect, a shade of blue that reminded you of a sky by springtime. The shoes, off-white heels with a bit of satin by the belt, brought attention to the dress. 
Light knocks tap on the door. 
“Can I come in, [Reader]?” 
Feeling heat rush by your ears, you consent. In comes your boyfriend Kaiser, his handsome features melting to an expression of pleasant surprise. 
"You look absolutely stunning, my love." 
A voice startles you from your stupor, streaks of blue and blond sneaking by your side. Warm hands encase your waist as a smile graces the interloper's lips. 
"Kaiser.." 
There was no way to avoid his love stricken gaze, heat rushing up your cheeks and your ears by the comment. 
"What do you think, hmm? Is this the one?" 
"..." 
You dare not voice out the affirmative, lest you'd be faced by a coquettish remark from him. Not even just an hour since you two entered the store, you two had fallen head over heels for this dress; it complemented Kaiser's royal blue locks and embodied a dress your childhood self would love to wear one day.
Kaiser, in his right mind, almost felt guilty monopolizing you for a shopping trip. Sure, it wouldn’t cost much to buy a pretty dress for you; besides, he quite liked that flustered expression on you. The blue dress, in his opinion, was perfect; he noticed the way your gaze lingered on the mannequin donning the dress, and how he almost envisioned you in it. 
“I’ll take this dress.” 
You say after a while of contemplation. 
“Perfect. I’ll buy it for you.” 
“Hmm? I thought we’re just going to rent it for the gala..” 
“No, I’m buying it.” 
He buries his nose against the crook of your neck. 
“Wearing this dress for one day would be such a waste; you could wear this dress how many times you want to wear it. That’s an order from me.” 
A scoff escapes your lips by the cheesy yet adoring remark, an intense heat encompassing your ears and neck. 
"Don't you have a penchant for flirting around with pretty things, Your Highness."
You pray sarcasm could save you from the emotional turmoil he was giving you.
"Oh, I do. When I see my said pretty thing enjoying themselves in front of me."
~ ~ ~
Days prior, you noticed a poster advertising a school-wide gala that would take place on the following weekend. Morbid curiosity had you taking a picture of the poster as a reminder to yourself. 
“Hey.” 
You almost let a curse slip, your phone jolting from your grip by the sudden call. 
“Kaiser, you seriously need to stop sneaking around! At least announce your arrival or something!” 
“Fufu, aren’t you adorable, my little bunny. What’s this?” 
Kaiser’s gaze fixates on the poster detailing the gala, an intrigued smile curving his lips. 
“It’s a dance.”  
You say. Memories of middle school and high school dances flicker about your mind - awkward episodes that almost made you cringe on the spot, stories of long dresses getting dragged and lavish - almost ostentatious - get ups for just a spectacular night. 
Your boyfriend, whom you'd never thought you'd be in a relationship with, spares a glance at you before asking. A devilish thought bubbles in his mind: driving you to the most lavish department store he could think of was the perfect idea.
“Shall we do some shopping then?” 
You instantly reply, not thinking twice about what his suggestion would occur should you consent.
“Yes.” 
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fairlyabookie · 11 months
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A Roommate’s Comfort
Author’s note: roommates | vague relationship | implied romantic
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Azul had a penchant for sticking to his ideals, whether it be maintaining his physique or studying for the best grade in the class. He prided himself on balancing, besides what kind of person would he be if not at his best?
Every day, Floyd and Jade would see Azul at his tip-top shape, often lively with his musings for a prosperous business or parameters for his study guides. There was never a day when he would show a sign of faltering, until he found himself in a blunder.
It all started from a bad day: he had overslept on the day of a flying exam; some workers were mixing up orders at the Lounge, and well, he’d rather not go further with his woes. He went to his bed, completely mentally drained, not wanting to entertain anyone else at the moment.
[Reader], upon noticing their roommate’s rather disheveled state, provided Azul respite: a blanket and water after a long day of hard work. They say nothing, offering these things with a friendly smile and a few words. Though Azul didn’t say anything; [Reader]’s actions were enough.
No matter how many words could describe his exhaustion, his roommate would provide for him. Both roommates exercised a civil relationship with each other, minding each other’s business and helping each other when needed. Many would say that this wasn’t the typical roommate relationship, but Azul was grateful for it: He and [Reader] would have conversations about their wellbeing, their progress, and moments when they needed to talk.
Nonetheless, he was grateful for this arrangement; being wrapped in a blanket with a cup of tea at hand and someone who was willing to listen to his woes after a long day
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fairlyabookie · 11 months
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A Splashful Time
Author’s note: Happy May! I’m done with school (for now), so back to our regular posting of fics. Enjoy!
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A string of seaform splashes up on shore, sending an essence of salt in rumbling waves. Cries of seagulls accompany the thunderous cacophony, silhouettes of the winged creatures flickering over a crystalline blue.
“Shrimpy, over here!”
A silhouette dressed in colors of the sea wades in the waters, seafoam splashing their by their ankles. They take little steps, as if not wanting to soak themselves in the water. Waiting for them ahead is an eager Floyd, his teal scales glistening under the sun. His features curl to a pout, perhaps vexed by the distance between him and [Reader].
“C’mon, [Reader], it’s just water. How bad can it be?”
“I don’t want to get my clothes wet!”
Roaring waves nearly diminish a shouting protest, in which Floyd had picked up from their troubled visage. A mischievous thought passes him by, something he thought would be a nice surprise for his friend coming up on shore. Up ahead, [Reader] was still wading in the water, the waves up to their shins. At this point, Floyd was getting impatient.
“[Reader]~”
They were certainly taking their time getting in the water. With a deliberate dive, Floyd swims to [Reader], eliciting a startled gasp from them.
“Floyd!”
In a cascade of water droplets and sunlight, [Reader] could fathom a splash of teal and a semblance of gray and gold by their midst. A silhouette looms over them, a wide smile greeting them with familiarity.
“I got you, Shrimpy.”
Such an eager greeting was exchanged, only to be then reciprocated with a pout from [Reader].
“You got me wet, Floyd!”
Floyd had to stifle a chuckle; under his arms, was a soaked [Reader], their clothes clinging onto their silhouette. Their lips curl to a pout and indignation, an expression Floyd was fond of from [Reader].
“Sorry, Shrimpy. Just wanted to surprise you.”
Floyd was simply basking in the fruit of his mischief, a fretful [Reader] in his arms, albeit a bit wet.
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fairlyabookie · 11 months
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Been a while, folks! Hope you’re doing well!
Although this isn’t a fic post, I’d like to provide a small gift for the digital journalists out there!
Whether you need a planner to help organize your day or something pretty to journal on, I have TWST-themed journals for everyone to enjoy.
Note: I am very new at making journals and editing happens to be a therapeutic exercise for me.
I only have a few journals up, but I’ll make more in the future!
Have fun journaling!
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fairlyabookie · 1 year
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Voice
Author's note: Day 21 of February prompts! Enjoy!
Many a folk whisper about a tale of a mystical creature whose singing could be heard late at night. Some say its voice can subdue even the fretful babies to sleep, soothe a lost sailor’s nerves, or a voice to sing along in the late hours of the night. Many surmise a siren or a ghost still lingering in the human realm, searching for a lost love from years before. Such romantic notions would entertain the locals and travelers, insinuating an anecdote native to the town itself. 
Vargas, a well-known youth with a penchant for helping his people, on the other hand, wholeheartedly didn’t believe in such fantasies. Rather, he’d simply dismiss the legend as nothing but an old wives’ tale. In the dim streets of the town, he saunters his way home, about to conclude a day’s worth of honest work.
“Vargas, do you mind helping me out for a bit?” 
The young man couldn’t simply refuse someone’s request, much of the town depended on him for the heavy-lifting and such. Any young men who were capable of doing so were too busy with their apprenticeships or had left their hometown for other ventures, leaving Vargas to aid the quaint neighborhood. 
“Why, of course!” 
A relived smile graces the lips of the gentlemen as he beckons Vargas to his abode. A boisterous clamor permeates the room, with hearty men full of drink as tavern folk deliver drink after drink.
“Fishing season has been on full swing lately, my boy. We’ve been receiving quite a number of customers from all over to catch some good ones,” 
He retrieves a wooden board for Vargas and hands a finished drink from the counter. 
“You know what to do?” 
A wide smile answers the gentlemen’s request.
“Leave it to me, sir.” 
By this, the tavern staff and clients warmly welcome him, showering him in affectionate greetings as he delivers drinks in a timely fashion. As the bar settles down to a less chaotic state, Vargas grabs a drink as a thanks from the owner. 
“Ah yes, the voice in the night. If you’re so curious about the tale, listen closely..” 
The tale once again; no matter where he had heard it, he’d hear many retelling of it, albeit with the same plot and ending. 
“There once was a youth who sang with all their heart, their voice touching hearts from many of those who listened far and wide. Some wanted their hand in marriage, some simply wanted to sing along, some wanted to listen; the youth was revered to many as ‘Siren’, any trace of their former name forgotten or simply disregarded,” 
“They had a name before that?” 
A curious traveler inquiries, 
“Aye, patience, patience, my dear friend. I was getting to that; you see, many would like to believe that the ‘Siren’ was nothing but a creature themselves, a mermaid if you will. However, since this is a local legend, we’d like to say that the ‘Siren’ was actually a youth named [Reader] who kept singing to their heart’s content.” 
Vargas had to stifle a snicker. The townspeople really loved to rub that fact of locality in their tales.
“But if you think this is a happy tale, it’s not, my friend,” 
The storyteller continues, much to the traveler’s chagrin. 
“Our beloved ‘Siren’ was human, someone who was seeking someone to accompany their life for eternity, and no matter who they’d meet, they’d only recognize them for their voice and not their person. However, they’d continue singing to their heart’s content, never stopping until no one could hear it,” 
A stunned silence follows. 
“What happened?” 
“Well, no one knows why. It was as if they stopped singing.” 
~ ~ ~
After saying his goodbyes to the tavern staff from a good night’s work, Vargas walks the scenic walk home, a longer way where he’d admire the sights of the town. He didn’t sleep much per se, his home an empty space for him to return to every night, and seeing the humble lives of the village made him quite feel uneasy. He was about to return home when he gave pause, hearing a telltale sign of someone singing. 
The Siren? He didn’t believe in the tale that much, but having it fresh on his mind made him quite paranoid. 
“Who is there?” 
The singing continued, this time approaching closer and closer to the man. His body stiffens, a sudden chill shivering up his spine. He swallowed the bout of fear blooming in his midst, as he came face to a beauty he had never seen before. 
“Good evening, Sir Vargas.” 
A melodic voice, following a gentle smile, graces the lips of someone he had never seen before, but heard tales of. 
“[Reader]?” 
The man thought he was in a dream, where a face so familiar was one he had met in a previous life.
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fairlyabookie · 1 year
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Tea
Author's note: Day 20 of February prompts! Enjoy!
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Tucked away in the heart of an industrious town, a tea shop brims with life, clamorous clients running frivolous gossip, good-natured newcomers seeking for an exquisite cup of tea; such patrons for tea look up to Sam, a charming businessman with a boundless supply of teas, ranging from rarities exclusively in certain regions of the land to commodities loved by all consumers. 
For each incoming customer, workers greet earnestly, guiding them to a seat to their liking, whether it be with a view of the town before them or having a view of the surrounding ambiance. Many patrons of Sam’s Tea Shop would often comment on the cordial welcomes, feeling as if they were at home rather than a shop with clients. The shop owner, on the other hand, valued being with his clients, listening to their conversations in earnest, reciprocating concerns with sound advice or simply entertaining them with his skills in the arts. Sam, in other words, was a man of many talents, harboring many a trifle from the town’s locality and consciousness. 
“Welcome in!” 
A worker bids a new customer with a wide grin by their lips. [Reader] smiles shyly, whispering a request to sit by the bar area. The worker obliges, guiding the youth to their seat. There, playing an ostentatious piece on a stringed instrument, Sam invigorates his audience with grandiose musicality, earning applause from them as he concludes with a flourish. 
“Would you like an appetizer to begin your time here?” 
[Reader] refuses, requesting only tea for the time being. Their eyes linger on the owner longingly, as if silently beckoning for him to approach the newcomer - they shyly avert their gaze, noticing clients showering the man with compliments. For a moment, they had no idea why they were here in the first place - one could simply discount it as a whim, where Sam had approached [Reader] about his tea shop once upon a time. The boisterous ambiance was too much for [Reader], strange faces contorting to even profane ones under the guise of gossip and tea, harsh words affixed in rhetoric arguing excessively. If this wasn’t a tea house, they would’ve mistaken it for a brothel with this sort of vulgarities. 
“[Reader], you’ve arrived! Welcome, welcome! I see you’ve emerged from your shell to join us for tea time. What would you like?” 
Noting the cordial grin by Sam’s lips, [Reader] knew he was simply being professional - civil perhaps, but at the same time, welcoming. They answer demurely, 
“I’d like something simple, please.” 
The grin widens. 
“Jasmine tea, then?” 
They nod, muttering a thanks to the owner. With nimble fingers, Sam dexterously prepares the tea, pouring from a porcelain teapot to a matching teacup, a thin vapor steaming from the liquid. A quick waft insinuates the nostalgic essence of jasmine tea, a tea [Reader] was only familiar with. They partake a sip, tasting its savory flavor. 
“Tell me, [Reader]. Was going ‘round town refreshing from being cooped up in your monastery all day?” 
Sam leads the conversation, initiating an unexpected question. 
“It is different, yes. Thank you for asking, Sam,” 
[Reader] answers politely, sparing a glance to study their surroundings. 
“I’m not used to being around so many people; this feels like a betrothal more than a tea shop.” 
Sam feigns surprise, stifling the urge to snicker about [Reader]’s out-of-pocket response. 
“How so? Many of my customers often come to socialize and enjoy tea. Is it not up to your liking, my dear scholar?” 
A complicated expression befalls on [Reader]’s features, a cross between a frown and a pout. 
“I didn’t mean to say an offensive comment, Sam. Well, what I meant is that it’s simply too loud for me. I surmise that your shop is popular too…” 
A hearty laugh bubbles from the owner’s lips. 
“Spare me your arguments, scholar! You’re overthinking about your rhetoric! Again, I take no offense for your comments. I often have folks from your monastery tell me that all the time.” 
“Many apologies on the behalf of my seniors..” 
[Reader] darkly mutters. 
“You’re too formal!” 
Sam ruffles [Reader]’s head, a gesture he’d equip to acknowledge a budding friendship, or as a casual gesture after exchanging formalities. 
“Come now, drink up! I presume you’re here to catch a break from sticking your nose up in the books. Have some more!” 
The inspirited gentlemen’s comment elicits more customers’ call for tea as he pours more into [Reader]’s cup. The puzzled scholar sheepishly thanks him, washing away their anxieties with another sip of cool jasmine tea.
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fairlyabookie · 1 year
Text
Morning
Author's note: Day 19 of February Prompts! Enjoy!
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All was quiet in the grandiose estate of the Asims, brilliant rays of a rising sun turning beiges into pale oranges and yellows. Family members still slumbered, nestled in between thick blankets and sheets. Kalim is the first to wake, opening his eyes to see a wonderful sight before him. 
He smelled tangy chai, citrus pineapple, and smokey incense, the scents belonging to his room, where he felt most at home and where the love of his heart was. Their back facing him, [Reader] slumbered on, not awake but dreaming elsewhere.
Kalim, on the contrary, was envious of [Reader]’s continued slumber, wanting to continue sleeping. Alas, he was wide awake, watching the rise and fall of [Reader]’s breath in slumber. Slender fingers gingerly tuck a stray lock of hair, tucking it behind their ear. A tranquil face, one Kalim was enamored with, a state of rest and quiet, when [Reader] had yet to face the world.
Just five more minutes, Kalim muses to himself, closing his eyes for a moment more. 
“Kalim?” 
A sleepy voice rouses him from his slumber. He opens his eyes, [Reader]’s beauty at full front and center. Kalim felt a smile curling at the corner of his lips. 
“Good morning, [Reader]. Did you rest well?” 
“I did.” 
They yawn, stretching lengthily. 
“I have to overlook the army in the sparring grounds, go over the new policies.. I don’t want to do it, Kalim.” 
Wrapping their arms around him, they entrap their partner within a cocoon of blankets. 
“Allow me to take one of those tasks for you, [Reader]. It’s the least I can do to lighten your load.” 
“If that doesn’t trouble you~” 
“[Reader], you’re not letting go of me?” 
Kalim subdued a snicker. 
“Of course not. I want to stay here all day.” 
[Reader] pouts, burying their face in his chest. A sensation akin to melting manifests itself by Kalim’s bosom. 
“Perhaps, I shall take care of your obligations, dear,” 
He presses a kiss onto his lover’s forehead. 
“I do what is needed and you rest. You’ve worked hard recently. Just eat and drink well for today, alright? I shall call some servants to prepare your meals.” 
“But Kalim-” 
[Reader] frowns. 
“Don’t reject my offer to you, [Reader]. As your loving husband, it is my duty to care for you and make sure you are well. Rest up, dear.” 
The almost stern tone from Kalim prompts his lover to silence. His smile returns, his crimson eyes nearly glinting from his partner’s compliance. 
“Good. Abide your time getting ready, dear. I will proceed your duties right away.” 
Noting a now complacent [Reader], the king places another kiss on his lover’s forehead, a gentle note by the back of their hand. 
“Have a good morning, dear.” 
He says finally, stepping out of his personal quarters with a wide grin on his lips.
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fairlyabookie · 1 year
Text
Kindness
Author's note: Day 18 of February prompts! Enjoy!
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A young boy studies a bouquet of flowers before him, fingering imperfections along its body, tracing lines by the petals, gingerly handling with the flora as it were a precious item. Before him, a half-finished sketch of the bouquet awaits for his hand to continue with his work, his utensil abandoned on the desk as he makes his observations. 
“Brother, what color do you think suits [Reader]?” 
This question disturbs his older brother’s reverie, a grumpy look by his features. 
“Whatever you’re feeling, let that manifest in your drawing, Ortho.” 
He says dismissively, not sparing another second to elaborate. Annoyance blossoms in the younger’s bosom, an abrupt but flaring anger that distracted him from drawing. Idia had the worst advice for romantic advances - why, Ortho shouldn’t have asked in the first place! The flowers in front of him weren’t the best ones per se, a way past their prime, with the petals tilting from his touch. Blues, purples, and reds were the hues of the flowers, colors Ortho couldn’t picture their beloved wearing. Sure, those were the colors of royalty, accentuating their social class and wealth as royalty. 
Even if he was merely a scribe for the royal family, Ortho had grown fond of [Reader], not because of their beauty or commendable traits, but rather, the character they were. If he wasn’t inscribing dialogues between nobles and dignitaries, he was sketching moments of beauty, portraits of [Reader], and flowers. A sigh escapes from the young boy’s lips. 
“Ortho, if you’re having an unproductive day, why don’t you step outside? Maybe walking around would help to jog up your brain.” 
There it was again, Idia’s oblivious yet coy comment. Ortho had to subdue the harboring pity for his brother. If only he understood what romance could entail other than fueling the arts. The young boy departs for some time outside, where he stipulates his own worldly thoughts. 
~ ~ ~ ~
The town center was bustling with activity; vendors parroting about their best quality products, families frolicking in herds, chiding wandering children to keep close to their premise, and craftsmen honing their craft in the open. In the center of it all was [Reader], their gaze studying life beyond the life before them. Royal servants, clad with the colors of their family’s coat of arms, blend amongst the villagers as they place an arching ribbon of flowers overlooking the center. 
[Reader] had an exceptional eye for detail, seeing more than just an awkwardly placed decoration in the town center. They instruct the servants to move it slightly, adjusting to a proper position. 
“Excellent.” 
They check one thing off from their to-do list. 
“Your Highness, where would you like the pedestals?” 
A bespectacled servant inquiries, a line of trolleys hauling the goods. 
“Please place them along the walkways, attach the ribbons on all of them,” 
[Reader] instructs, quickly inspecting the goods before dismissing the servants. The state of the town square was one they can characterize as chaotic, the citizens moving on to their daily lives as they were stuck with decorating for a festival in the town. Had to leave it to their uncle to delegate the unsavory jobs for [Reader]... 
“[Reader]!” 
Who? They swivel about, noticing a vibrant blue in the sea of white. 
“Ortho!” 
The young boy, albeit seemingly growing taller every time [Reader] saw them, always brought a smile to [Reader]’s lips. 
“I wasn’t expecting to see you here, Your Highness. Is there anywhere I can provide assistance?” 
[Reader]’s cold facade had melted from Ortho’s sweet words. Who had raised the boy to be this kind in the first place? They shouldn’t impede him with such tasks, especially when there were many things to do. But first off, he could drop the formalities.
“You don’t have to be so formal with me, Ortho. We’re both similar in age. I feel strange when you address me as ‘Your Highness’,” 
Ortho had to pout. The royal didn’t mind skipping formalities between acquaintances and friends; rather, Ortho kept the formality, addressing [Reader] with respect and honor as they should be. Even if [Reader] would remind Ortho about dropping the formalities over the years, Ortho was adamant on keeping the address.
“Don’t trouble yourself, Ortho I’m fine,” 
[Reader] continues, 
“My uncle just placed me as event coordinator; we’re planning a festival within a week’s time.” 
“That sounds like a lot of responsibilities, [Reader],” 
Ortho dodges a projectile ribbon thrown in a random direction. 
“Regardless, I’m here whenever you need help.” 
[Reader] really couldn’t handle Ortho’s overwhelming kindness. Silence lapses between the two; the royal instructing servants on certain decorative choices and cuisine for the festival, Ortho on the other hand, watching them attentively. It was then after [Reader] had concluded the day’s work did Ortho asked them an important question: 
“[Reader], what is your favorite color?” 
“My favorite color? It’s white.” 
An idea clicked in Ortho’s mind. 
“Are you decorating for your birthday next week?” 
They stiffen, 
“Oh no, no, no, Ortho! It’s my uncle’s wedding next week. My birthday is later..” 
A frown curls at the end of the boy’s lips. 
“How come he is making you work all of this? He could hire someone else.” 
“Right? Could’ve let me handle the invitations, so he could stop complaining about it.” 
[Reader] rolls their eyes. 
“Who makes their own relative work for them anyway? I don’t mind helping them for a bit, but in the course of a week, that’s too much.” 
A sigh slips past their lips. 
“May I treat you for lunch, then?”
“You don’t have to do that, Ortho.” 
The eager tone in their voice betrays their delight. If [Reader] wanted to refuse, they didn’t have much choice, for Ortho had already latched themselves onto their arm, a wide grin by his lips.
“Let’s go, let’s go!” 
Hesitant, [Reader] follows him into the heart of the town, not noticing the sharp glance the boy had thrown to his left, eyeing a particular white flower by a floral storefront.
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fairlyabookie · 1 year
Text
Future
Author's note: Day 17 of February Prompts! Enjoy!
Content warning: One-sided romance | retainer x lord | mentions of incest
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“Well then, what have you considered for your future?” 
The lord inquiries, scrutinizing his betrothed with steeled eyes. [Reader] regards him with a respectable answer, their demeanor cool as a serene lake. 
“I have no qualms being your retainer, my Lord. If it means helping you with your empire, I am honored to be your pick for the position.” 
A slight annoyance overpowered the blooming sensation of flattery. Beautifully articulated, as he had expected from someone from a noble family, yet lacked sincerity. He couldn’t read [Reader]’s expression; he couldn’t tell if they were troubled or mocking him in a way. Either way, he couldn’t read them at all. If anything, they could be riding on his coattails and commit a dastardly deed later on.
“Is there a way I can provide for our relationship, [Reader]? Noted, you’ve done more than I am grateful for.” 
Crewel watches for any changes in their expression, their lips curling to a thin line. 
“You don’t have to trouble yourself, my lord. My services with you is enough to consider our relationship as groom and wife.” 
“There has to be something more, [Reader]. Something from me that you wish to know, or at least wish to have now that we’ll be married in a month.” 
Crewel’s tone intensifies to a stern one, borderline hostile and domineering. 
“Would it offend you if I say I am satisfied with you as you are now?” 
Needlessly to say, Crewel was helpless. What did they mean by that? Should he prod them a little more about the true intentions? If I continue on, [Reader] might be suspicious of me. 
A sigh escapes from the lord’s lips. [Reader] was truly an enigma. Their facade was admirably infallible, untouchable like a revered deity’s statue or the scripture of a Classical text. The taste of cool, bitter tea snuffs out bits of his fiery temper. He resisted the urge to request for more tea - [Reader] would always heed his call, wordlessly and obediently. Regardless, at least asking for [Reader]’s hand in marriage was plenty of times more convenient than asking a complete rascal ho would leech off from the lord’s wealth. 
“[Reader], tel me, how many years has it been since you’ve worked with me?” 
“6 years, My Lord.” 
6 years! Crewel was stumped; at this point, he’d just discount their dynamic as a married couple if [Reader] had been with him this long! Admittedly, even if [Reader] had worked with him for that long, any form of dynamic between the both of them, save for the civil formality exchanges and briefings for important affairs, was never present. 
“If you’re willing to wed me, you must be aware that our relationship will not be the same. By offering your hand in marriage, you’re devoting yourself to me as a partner, as someone significant in your life. Do you realize this, [Reader]?” 
They nod demurely. Crewel averted his eyes from their silhouette, casting his gaze to the myriad of scrolls by his desk. How long has it been since he was given the position of Chancellor, per the Prince’s first choice? 
“You served me well in the years, [Reader], devoting your time to assisting me with paperwork and maintaining relations with the common folk,” 
Encroaching thoughts creep into his words, his thoughts manifesting into the words he always wanted to say, 
“I’ve been told by my mother that one of our servants took you in out of the kindness of her heart; your biological parents must’ve abandoned you to save their hides - they only left a cloth for you to keep warm and nothing else. If I recall, the servant came home quite distressed, holding you in her arms. I was but a child during this time, not knowing that one of our own had brought a child outside our lineage to our household. Believe me, I was shocked to see a display of their compassion - begging my own father to keep you and raise you as it were her own.” 
A frown creases on the lord’s lips. 
“I’ll spare you the details about the drama afterward. You know how much you were doted by everyone in the household. I can’t say if you were spoiled rotten, or if you were treated as royalty as much as me when I was younger..” 
He sighs, inhaling slowly. 
“You may have served me for 6 years, but you’ve been with my family for more. We may be related on paper, but not by blood. You could be a sibling, a long-lost cousin, or some other individual relating to our family, but after years of investigating, we found that your former parents had already moved on - going by different names in a different region somewhere. Unless you strongly remember your parents abandoning you at such a young age, I’m sure you don’t harbor any resentment towards them.” 
Crewel spares a glance over to [Reader], whose expression remains indifferent. 
“My past doesn’t matter, my Lord. All I care for now is that I am here, years of working the particulars of your family, your work, and your profession. True, we have inadvertently paused your parents’ prattling for marriage with my outburst on my hand a month ago. I’m sure you understand that we’ve made our choice by becoming a couple this way - you don’t have to see anyone else, you don’t have to go through your mother’s painstaking efforts of matchmaking.” 
[Reader] continues, leaving Crewel to his thoughts. 
“I don’t expect you to come to an answer right away; though, I appreciate you taking time from your routine to finally sit down to have this conversation about our relationship..” 
They approach their superior, matching their gaze with his. 
“Maybe it’s admiration, affection, or both that has made me feel this way; when I first met you in court, taken in by the servants; when I first worked with you in class as we struggled in understanding literature and arithmetic; when I was given the honor of becoming your retainer after years of working alongside your family. Gratitude understates how much I feel at this very moment.” 
They feel compelled to glance over to Crewel, who had snuck a glance over his shoulder, glimpsing what had seemed to be a shy [Reader]. They hold themselves back, finding proper words to explain the overwhelming sensation encompassing their being. 
“Perhaps, it is what your mother believed in: the powers of fate bringing us together,” 
[Reader] clears their throat, adding a quick note before continuing, 
“I’m personally a skeptic person myself, but perhaps she has a point. In other words, our relationships span more than just a retainer and lord, my Lord. Sure, I’ve served you long enough, but my love and loyalty to you resembles that of a true maiden’s.” 
Crewel detected a thickening voice by [Reader]’s explanation, a sort of emotion building up in their bosom as they attempt to correct their demeanor. 
“If you feel that our relationship is inappropriate to reconsider our future together as husband and partner, I don’t feel offended in the slightest. Besides,” 
They rest a gentle hand onto his forearm. 
“I don’t mind waiting for your answer. As your aide, I value your personal thoughts and sentiments and prioritize them before mine.” 
With a small smile by their lips, they place a kiss onto their betrothed’s cheeks. Wordlessly, they leave Crewel speechless, the words stuck in the back of his throat.
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