𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜

[magicdustsworld]

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄 ༊*·˚

ᴀꜱᴛʀᴏɴᴀᴜᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ, ᴅʀᴀᴍᴀ Qᴜᴇᴇɴ ʙʏ ᴅᴇꜰᴀᴜʟᴛ

･ﾟﾟ･｡ 𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚌, 𝚜𝚑𝚎/𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝟷𝟿, 𝙸𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚗, 𝚂𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚞𝚜

.ೃ࿐ 𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥'𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬'𝐬 𝐊𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓... 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄

ᴏʀʙɪᴛ ᴇᴛɪQᴜᴇᴛᴛᴇ - RULES & DNI

ᴄᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʟʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀʀᴄʜɪᴠᴇ - MASTERLIST; ꜰᴏʀɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ɴᴇʙᴜʟʟᴀ - MASTERLIST 0.1

𝐌𝐀𝐏 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒

AO3 | POSTS | REBLOGS | RECS

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐃

magic!posts -> rants and updates

magic!reblogs -> reblogging posts from my dash

magic!answers -> ask box answers

magic!recs -> fic recommendations

magic!writes -> overall writing stuff

magic!drabbles -> short, =100 wc works

magic!nsfw reblogs -> NSFW content

𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐓

[magicdustsworld]

Omg sorry I meant your unfinished Levi fic. I love it sm I hope u continue 🥺🙏🏻

Thank you, I am glad you liked it <3

About updates? Truth to be told, I am not sure what I am gonna write in the next part. I am open to suggestions so if you have am idea or would like to see something next, you can drop it in my ask box :))

[magicdustsworld]

Continue vows I BEG YOU I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT :((

Hello! I am extremely sorry to keep you waiting however, I can't promise an update before mid-may 🥲

I have an important exam coming up and I don't trust my time management skills (💀) hence, updates will continue from 2 months later.

[magicdustsworld]

POV: HIMBO!CEO!GOJO RUNS HIS COMPANY TO THE GROUNDS

"What's wrong with health insurance?"

The problem with being an assistant to a CEO of a billion dollar company was that, you could never him to shut up. Although, the temptation arrived, every three seconds.

"Global warming is on the rise and who knows when the next pandemic will hit?" he continues, spinning on his chair like it's a god damn roundabout wheel, "The graphs are off and the reporters predict that a tsunami is rising in the pacific. Health insurance is the way to go!"

You are pretty sure he is pulling statistics straight out of the air because the four reasons he spewed on why his—very critically judged—fashion company should sell health insurance, almost caused you to throw your tablet at him.

You should have.

The device was a corporate product and you wouldn't be losing anything. Lest, you remembered that the company was already dousing in losses with three sponsors vesting out already and Gojo handing out a quarter of his company's profit to a woman who showed up to his office—claiming she was five months pregnant with his child.

For Christ's sake, she didn't even have a baby bump.

You didn't want to add on his losses. Not because you cared what happened to this brand (or him, for that matter.) You were in love with your pay check and despite the shenanigans Gojo was upto half of the time, you were just glad that the amount transferred to your bank balance didn't recede by a cent.

"Take for example, COVID was the hot topic just two years ago—"

"It was six years ago, sir."

"Regardless," he waves you off, "You get my point, don't you?"

No, I don't.

That's what you are tempted to say and more profanities that sits right on your tongue; but you drink it down with a glass of water and lower your eyes to the laptop screen. Reviewing the presentation before it has to be brought under the scrutinizing gazes of the (already agitated) board members this afternoon.

This wasn't even your job but Satoru couldn't be trusted with PowerPoint.

This one time, he had changed the watermark of his company's logo to a penguin head and tried to tell the board members how this is an innovative idea to ascend sales. His reason was penguins were monogamous creatures and it could symbolize how they were loyal to their customers.

(Mei-Mei had brought up how he could transport his head quarters to Antarctica and he had considered it.)

"Sir, have you worked on the opening speech?" You ask, and from the periphery of your vision, you see Satoru stiffen. Seriously. Your lip twitches, an irk rising to your forehead as you try to keep your tone flat, "Did you forget about it?"

"N-no, of course not," he fakes a laugh before he raises his index finger to his temple, "I have it all in my head. Yes– in my head."

"Great," He did forget about it, "I'll ask Nanami to send you a polished speech by lunch."

"But I said—"

"Try not looking at it too much while narration," you interrupt, "won't look good in front of your shareholders and yeah— no improvisations."

"But they are the best part," he complains, folding his arms over his chest, "And I am a damn genius at it.

"We do not want a repeat of the bakery incident, sir."

The bakery incident: Apparently, Gojo was under the impression that the best way to generate sales was by tricking the customers. He had a mall constructed in the shape of a bakery and had the workers hand out legit bakery fliers. Yet, the trick was, the complex was actually a fashion store and the incoming customers receive high end fabrics instead of treats.

You still don’t know what mental gymnastics could have caused him to arrive to this conclusion.

"It's not my fault that the everyone is a snowflake nowadays," he mutters, leaning on his chair and raising his gucci clad feet on the table.

"Sir, no one likes to have expensive clothes shoved on their face when they are hungry."

Across the desk, Satoru doesn't seem content. Rather he looks like, he is about to argue and you know, that's your cue to leave if you do not want to find any grey hairs tonight. The only saving grace in this situation was that Satoru had put the effort and worn a tuxedo. Although, inappropriately with the top two buttons half done and the tie loosened but you assumed, he could easily fix it before the board meeting.

The last time, he had shown donning a casual tee and sweatpants and paired then with sneakers. You stood behind him, trying to not die from the embarrassment because he had put on sunglasses indoors.

You sigh and retrieve your notepad, "let's go over the rules again, shall we?" Satoru hums and you continue, "you won't speak in meetings—"

"Question," he raises a hand, akin to a pre-schooler. "What if I think of a good idea?"

"You will either discuss it with Nanami or me before opening your mouth."

"What if I get a really, really good idea and on the spot itself?"

"Then, you will drink water water, blink twice and scribble on your notepad while the elders are talking."

"But this is my company," he whines, "I should be the one calling the shots. Not sitting around and doing nothing."

"Doing nothing is the best you can do for this company, sir," You press on your lips, just waiting for this charade to end. Satoru looks like he is going to argue, but you beat him to it. "Next rule, you will not bring Shiro—"

Gojo makes a sound that seems like you havr just announced a homicide, "Unacceptable! Shiro is a good boy, he doesn't even cause any trouble."

"He literally chewed up Ms. Iori's Hakama last time." You protest, grip tightening on your pen, "I had to beg her to not file a complaint against you."

"That's besides the point," he huffs, straightening his posture, "We don't need board members who mistreat my Shiro. Can't we fire her?"

You need a ibuprofen. And a vacation to Maldives.

"Third rule: No using nicknames to address the board—"

"But it builds—"

"For fuck's sake, shut the fuck up!"

A/N: Divider credits to @/saradika-graphics. A low-effort ficlet inspired from this post. Likes and comments would be appreciated <3

[magicdustsworld]

YOUR LEVI FIC PLS PLS PLS PLS 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

This ask kinda confused me 😅

Which Levi fic are you talking about? Or would you like me to write a Levi fic?

[magicdustsworld]

Hey! I was wondering if you're planning on updating vows? I was really loving it.

I am glad you enjoyed it. As of now, I can't give an exact date of when I will update it because I am cramped with school but I assure you, the series will be continued and the updates will be back as soon as my work load lessens

[magicdustsworld]

Love your fics!

Aww! I am glad you enjoyed My works. Thank you for reading 🥺❣️

[magicdustsworld]

Hai hai hai

When I became a Zayne girl I knew that loving him came with a side of masochism, and your story totally delivered it LOL

I'm sorry to know you're going through a hard time, I know what it's like to receive a crashing news about the friend you shared so much with. Whatever happened, remember that it's not your fault and you did your best ❤ you deliver joy (and appreciated sorrow) to strangers on tumblr, i'm sure you're an amazing friend as well :)

I hope you're doing better now, thank you for your service and your fantastic writing!! 🫶

Oh my God!

I just opened tumblr and saw this in my ask box and omgg this just touched my heart 😭

You are so sweet and thank you so much for your kind words, they really mean a lot 🫶 I am doing starkly better than I did before and ig I would return to writing as soon as my academic year is over lol

I am just so glad, you took the time out to write this sweet message; I honestly can't thank you enough. And I do hope, you're doing good and hope you continue to do so ❤️

[magicdustsworld]

Caleb x non mc!Reader; angst, mentions of casual relationship. Excerpt from a oneshot that's been rotting in my drafts. Divider credits - @/cafekitsune

It didn't surprise you anymore. Caleb always left.

He never waited. Never stayed back or waited for you to rouse so he could bombard you with morning kisses. On good days, you'd catch a glimpse of him exiting a bathroom and wishing you goodbye. On bad days, the grey ticks of the text you had sent him asking about his well being would turn blue after seventeen hours.

It's okay.

You tell yourself it's okay. Because when you stepped in, you knew it was casual and casual doesn't ask for commitments.

The room felt cold—but lived in. Textbooks scattered recklessly on his desk, a cup placed on the window sill, his favourite jacket slung over the chair. Caleb wasn’t neat and it should have irritated you but the offence came for reasons entirely different. Pieces of him were scattered everywhere and you hated how you plucked them like keepsakes in your memory, as if it may be the last.

You shrugged off the grogginess from your shoulders, crouching down to gather your jeans and pulling it to your waist. Your earrings glinted on the nightstand, just beside your purse. Carding your fingers through your mussed hair, you tried to make it presentable for the short tour it'd require to reach your appartment. You tugged on the hem of your top, tying the strings in a simple knot before climbing down the stairs. Before you could reach knob—just then it turned from the other side.

You didn't expect to see the same pair of purple irises from last night. And, by the way they enlarged an inch, you could tell he didn't expect you to be here either.

“You're leaving?” He asked while you stepped aside to let him into the house.

“Yeah,” You kept your gaze low, counting the blemishes on the wooden tiles so as to not stare at him. Him and his tousled hair falling over his brows. Him and his sweat slicked t-shirt sticking to his chest as if he just returned from his morning run. The sight of him was torture. Cruel even. You pressed your lips into a thin line. “I have plans… with Tara.”

He laughed. The slow, airy laughter you were trying to not forge into memory. “I am sure your plans don't require you to be on street square–101 at 8 AM.” He sauntered into the open kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets. “Come on. Sit down for breakfast.”

You shook your head, “No, it's okay. I– I shouldn't be intruding.”

“If you were intruding, I wouldn’t have invited you.” His voice strained so casually against his throat, you wouldn't have believed it was the same one unraveling you last night. “Come on, now. Will ya?”

In hindsight, you should have refused. Should have barked an excuse and slipped out of the front gate when he wasn't noticing. At least, that'd spare you of the stinging ache that it'd bring if you dared to interpret this as his care.

But you didn't.

You sat down on the chair like a good girl, nibbling on pancakes he had paired with maple syrup and blueberries. You'd have to admit, the first bite was heavenly—bursting a horizon of flavours in your mouth. It was after a long time, you had been served a delicacy such as this. If this was what was kept in store, you wouldn't mind staying longer.

Yet, more than the bliss dancing on your taste buds, something else had made this breakfast tasteful. Because Caleb had made it. He had thought about you. He didn't want you to leave his house on an empty-stomach. He wanted you to stay longer.

Why?

Because he liked your company.

He liked your company.

Breakfast was spent in utmost peace, save for the clink of cutlery or Caleb rambling about football, the DAA and everything. You sat there—mute but attentive. Memorizing the cadence in his or the way it lifted when a particular topic interested him; while his eyes were full of you. And somewhere in you, you wished it’d stay like that.

Because if his eyes were on you, there was a chance it could be real.

[magicdustsworld]

Woke up to Sylus's new myth trailer...

I am NOT okay

[magicdustsworld]

𝐕𝐎𝐖𝐒 | ONE

Zayne Li x Non mc!Reader

You didn't know what you were expecting when you agreed to marry Dr. Zayne, but it surely wasn't love.

A man still haunted by the voice of his late first love, you knew you'd never be able to replace her. Yet, knowing can't always result in acceptance. And when your heart begins to yearn for more than just to be a responsibility to your cold husband—what are you supposed to do with these unwanted feelings?

Tropes: Arranged Marriage, Angst, Unrequited Love.

Warnings: Expressions of grief, heavy angst, non canon compliant, cold!Zayne, mentions of death, mentions of humiliation, emotional trauma, canonnical inaccuracies, implied toxic family dynamics, no usage of Y/N.

A/N: I lost Zayne's myth card and decided to torture myself by writing angst lmao (smiling through the pain ;'))

Divider Credits - @saradika-graphics

<Series Masterlist> | Chapter 2

“Zayne Li, do you take this woman to be your wife? To have and to hold her in sickness or in health, in richer or in poorer, for better or for worse; To love and honour her for the rest of your days and forevermore?”

You had seen this before.

Plenty of sappy, romantic movies ending with the man and woman tying the knot at the church. If not for the climatic music, melodious chirping of birds or the lustrous sun peeking amidst the clouds just to shine on them—as if nature itself had twisted it's course for the couple to feast on their union. Bouts of joy would trail down their eyes as they promised devotion to one another and share a chaste kiss whilst memories of all their beautiful and tragic moments—in which they held onto each other—would dance before their eyes. 

Zayne and you shared anything but that.

Therefore, when he said I do you didn't mind the lack of cadence to his tone. 

You didn't mind the chill pricking your skin when he held your hand. You didn't mind the scarcity of desire or warmth in the kiss that he pressed on your lips. 

You didn't mind that this marriage was only a farce; a union made in order to appease the public rather than join two hearts into one. 

After all, when you agreed to marry Zayne, you knew—wishing for love would only end in shambles.

Several Hours Earlier

Zayne's shoes scraped on the pavement, echoing the soft, rhythmic beat of his steps amidst the stale morning air. Sunlight filtered through the leaves of the giant oak trees, gleaming in his eyes once in a while. Although December had sauntered in with its chilling wisps of wind, snow hadn't begun pouring in Linkon city and for a winter morn’, he'd consider today to be pretty warm.

Maybe some of the last days of mellow ambling over Linkon city before the thick blanket of white covered it all. 

It was on these days that families planned all their picnics and get-togethers of this year. Days on which departmental stores stayed open an extra hour because Christmas would follow in three weeks.

Something about winters always bothered Zayne. He couldn't pinpoint it but maybe it was the contradiction of it all. He never understood how the bleak and empty season could ever stir a mood of festivity in anyone. 

The central park was a common spot for Zayne. He'd find himself strolling the grounds every time he’d need an escape. The pond glittered with the golden light falling over it, gusts of wind swirling the leaves and the pink camellia blooming on the shrubs just made the scenery all the more beautiful.

Zayne didn't want to find it beautiful.

Because beautiful meant he was alive and if he were alive then it meant he had memories, and in those memories lived a woman. A woman whose beauty transcended heavens; a woman, for whom he’d sacrifice forever just for a chance to hold her once. And if he thinks about holding her then he’d remember he can't hold her.

He can't hold her.

He does not have her.

He does not have his life.

Then how could he be alive?

Because beauty was in her eyes when she held his gaze, beauty was in her voice when she called his name, beauty was in her mien when he watched her bath under the moonlight and he had silently thanked fate for sending this woman to him. 

She was beautiful but she wasn’t here anymore. And when she left, she took all the colours, all the birds and all the sunlight—leaving this desolate world to plunge into a grayscale crest. 

That's why he can't find it beautiful. He can't find anything beautiful. 

It was suffocating. 

Two hours had passed since the wedding and now, you are sitting in your bridal suite with a woman touching on your make-up. You had changed into a particularly lighter gown—meant for your reception and you'd had taken a second to admire the dress, if not for the turmoil brewing in your mind.

Honestly, it was easier at first. 

The only reason you said yes to this marriage was because you wanted to escape from your family. You wouldn't essentially speak bad about them; after all, they never swayed from paying for your education and lifestyle—something you'd eternally be grateful for. But it was the unnamed things that stirred the tension in you.

It was your wedding today; a day you are supposed to cherish for the rest of your lives but you had just spent the last two hours sitting ideally in your bridal suite as the walls taunted you for your doomed marriage. 

Zayne had said that he needed to answer an urgent call and that he'd return soon. But as you saw, the soon transcended seconds into minutes and minutes into hours. So much so that your makeup artist had arrived but not him.

But you weren't complaining. You stepped into this arrangement with your own will and you could understand why Zayne would behave the way he did. Any man would. 

You were a taint on your family's name. Tarnished and ruined beyond repair; if only you weren’t so stupid, none of this would have happened. In spite of your family drowning the scandals, some rumours never truly die and this was one of them. 

Therefore, it was more than enough that someone had agreed to marry you. And you shouldn’t be greedy when the tides are against you.

“My, my, you look so beautiful!” 

As if plunged out of a dream, you look up to see your makeup artist grinning down at you. God, you had forgotten she was still in the room. Deflecting your gaze towards the mirror, you beheld your expression. 

“Wow,” you gasp, completely fazed out with the work she had done on your features. Nothing heavy, and it'd be a lie if you say you say you weren't impressed by her craft. “I look… good.”

“You look beautiful,” she exclaimed, “I bet your husband wouldn't be able to take his eyes off you.”

Only if he looked at me…

You decided to keep the unwarranted thought to yourself and plaster a half smile on your lips to show your content. “Thank you. You are very skilled.”

The corner of her lips curl up, eyes narrowing into half moon, “All the credits belong to my model.”

Before you could reply, you heard the click of the lock to the suite and soon enough, a man emerged inside—decked in a crisp navy blue suit with white floral patterns stitched on the fabric—her husband. Looking every ounce of handsome and unbothered yet when his eyes fell on you, you averted your gaze as soon as possible.

Because what were you supposed to say to a man you had married only hours ago? 

Thankfully, your makeup artist didn't wait around to bombard your husband with her questions; seems to have been picked up on the uncharacteristic dynamic shared amid the couple. Whatever the reason may be, she passed a soft smile to you before bidding her farewell.

You heard some rustling; probably Zayne going though his belongings. From the corner of your eyes, you caught him fixing his cufflinks, his back turned to you. You hadn't noticed but the suit he donned currently was starkly different to the charcoal suit he had worn to the wedding. 

When did he change?

Although curious, you refrained from asking any idiotic question and worsen the awkward heat swirling in the room. Lifting your phone from the dresser, you swiped it back to life—not upset by the lack of messages to pop up on your screen. You had one unread text message from your mother—timed to have been sent just after the ceremony. 

Why do you have to be so…  You didn't need to read the entirety of the message to know its contents. Besides, there was enough evidence of plight as the seconds ticked by, you didn't need her to remind you of everything. 

“Did you order room service?”

Caught off guard, you whirled your neck to see your husband staring back at you. “Huh?”

“Did you order room service?” He repeated.

“I, uh–” Stretching your gaze across the vast expanse of the room, you tried to pinpoint what caused him to ask that, “no…?”

Great way to make an impression.

You shut down the devil in your head, masking the quiver in your voice with a cough, “I didn't…”

“You should have,” he said, picking his watch from the nightstand and wrapping the silver belt on his wrist, “It's been long since the ceremony ended.”

“Yeah but I just… I thought– the reception…” 

“I understand.” 

With that, your first conversation ended with your husband.

What was wrong with you? You were acting like a nubile school girl dousing in dopamine whilst she talked to her crush. However, unlike the dopamine or butterflies in reference, what settled in the pit of your stomach was a gnawing nausea on the verge of climbing up your throat. You resisted the urge by downing a tumbler full of lukewarm water.

“Oh, before I forget,” Zayne spoke, walking up ahead, “your mother said she will come to meet you.”

“Why?” The squeak in your voice wasn't expected but Zayne didn't seem to catch on it. Clearing your throat, “I mean… why? Why would she want to meet me?”

“If you don't want to then it can be arranged as well,” He replied with the same diplomacy.

It's not everyday that you are being asked for your wishes but you ignored all the Sparks that alighted your mind. He is just being decent.

“I don't mind,” you said, twisting a strand of your hair, “as your wife, I'd meet anyone you want.”

“No, you wouldn't,” He snapped and you immediately bowed your head like a child on being caught for their miscreants, “And you are not my wife. If you have forgotten, then let me remind you that this marriage means nothing to us.”

Were you stupid? 

Can't you just get one thing straight into your thick skull?

They had told you Zayne was cold and aloof most of the time but with the knives he threw at you, you pondered on the possibility that whether he was a capricious man.

No. What were you thinking?

Zayne's stance wasn't venomous. No, he was entirely right in his place, only you had to go on and utter such rubbish. Still… why did his words send beads of anguish through you? Pain bubbled up to your eyes, throat clogging with hundreds of apologies—none spoken aloud and if you heart were a living which you could clasp in your fist, you could feel the blood leaking out the crevices of your fingers.

You had dug your own grave by your own stupidity, the least you could do was sit and writhe on it like you were meant to. Expecting love from Zayne would be equal to a dream come true; unfortunately, you had been shrouded by nightmares your entire life.

“I don't like to repeat myself,” he continues, turning his back to you—oblivious to the throes his utterance did to you, “But please, refrain from associating such titles with yourself.”

Zayne didn't know when it became a ritual but sooner than he could comprehend, he found himself retracing the steps he took with her five years ago.

He had always enjoyed his own company and with her gone—he didn't find any meaning in filling the gap with anyone else. He doubted anyone else ever could. 

“Here you go, sir,” the old lady in the flower shop said as he handed him a bouquet of fresh purple hyacinths. “Lovely choice of flowers sir, I assume they are for your wife.”

“My… Love,” because what else could he possibly call the woman to whom he had lost his heart ages ago; and now, lost her altogether. “I need to apologize to her.”

The lady tilts her head, clasping her hand back with a soft beam gracing her lips. She mutters something about young love which he couldn't hear before adding, “Well, I hope she forgives you and next time, I hope you get her red roses” she hums, “a young man like you must know what they mean.”

He did.

But he didn't think he'd ever have to buy roses. She never had any interest in them in the first place. However, he kept the words to himself.

When Zayne retraced The steps to the Graveyard, he was glad. This was that one place where he didn't have to pretend; didn't have to explain the tightness in his chest or The reason his hands trembled as the leaves crunched beneath his boots. 

Grief was a funny thing. 

At one moment, he’d be perfect—fine even. The next second, his breath would escape in short bursts of white, his shoulders would tremble with the weight of the world and again, he'd find himself wandering in this soulless world. Grief didn't arrive dressed in black, never with wailing in the corners—it came quietly; sitting beside him, as he'd meet his patients in the chamber, or when he'd hear someone laugh and remember there was one he hadn't heard since long.

And even now, five years later—grief would twist him in its chains, take him hostage to the home he once had shared with her and upon asked, why can't he leave that home, he couldn't give an exact answer. Therefore, he laid on the bed, looking for the fragrance she had left behind, looking for the visage which haunted him everywhere.

Zayne lowered himself in front of the headstone; vines had grown deep, clambering to the apex with the dirty green leaving it's marks on her name inscribed on it.

He placed the bouquet of purple hyacinths near the base, clasping his hands to utter a solemn prayer. 

Purple hyacinths. A florist would say they were a symbol of sorrow and deep regret. A flora advised to gift someone when one would like to request forgiveness. 

But when Zayne offered those flowers to the only woman he loved, his intent wasn't to ask for forgiveness.

“I hope you never forgive me for marrying her.”

You didn't mean to snoop around. Honestly, you didn't.

But what were you supposed to do in this huge family home with no one else to keep you company.

4th April

I dreamt about you today. You were standing in the meadows, you had your favourite lilies in your hand and you were smiling. God's, you were smiling and I didn't just how much I missed it. Yet, you asked me to bring you roses. I don't understand; you never liked roses. Do you like them now? I suppose, this is your way of telling me to bring you roses the next time I visit. But you hadn't mentioned the colour, I guess I'll just have to bring you each of one colour now.

Five years since you have left me and I can't fathom how am I still alive? Days bleed into nights, the seasons change and yet, I try to find bits and pieces of you in every face. And every time, I drown in disappointment because a semblance of you resides in neither. I carry your voice in my heart like a melody, playing the soft lilt that I have grown to love. 

Would you like to know a secret, my love? If I could trade my life for yours, I would.

[magicdustsworld]

Hello, there!

First of all, I am extremely sorry for disappearing out of the blue. Being a reader for most of my time in tumblr, I know its really vexing to look forward to a series but not receive timely updates but I didn't know how things just turned for the worse.

My life and me, as a person, was doing exceptionally well when I had decided to start writing vows but only a few days later I learnt a ghastly news regarding one of my best friends which had rendered me out of my creative space. Honestly, I couldn't make sense of anything for days after I learnt what had happened; so much so it had resulted me in deleting this app and turning away from my academics as a whole.

The first week had been the worse but as time had passed, I am beginning to do better. And although I don't really want to admit it but things are settling into normal. I still haven't recovered from what happened and I think, I never will but I have been trying to live with it every day, learning a thing or two on how to fall in step with life again. For now, that's my goal.

About whether would I continue vows or not? Don't worry, it will be continued. Currently chapter three stands half-written and I will try to complete it as soon as possible. However, I would have to apologize again because I can't promise regular updates. I would understand if anyone wants to tune out of the taglist (please let me know under this post or just send an ask) because it is tiring to get pinged for a story which one had read long ago. Fading interests is completely normal and I'd understand it with no hard feelings.

To all the asks I have received regarding my disappearance, I am sending all my love towards them. Thank you for checking on me.

And again, thank you for your patience.

[magicdustsworld]

Lady Magic, I left a comment for this: https://www.tumblr.com/magicdustsworld/797680940498468864/ineedit-im-so-desperate-right-now What are your thoughts?

So, it's around 5.45 am rn, and my mind's being all weird.

Thus, this idea is totally going into the angst territory.

What if Zayne started having dreams/nightmares about MC with another LI? And it isn't for just one night, but consecutive nights of MC with different LIs? Because he had long suspected he wasn't the only man in MC's life (even while they were together); only problem was that he had no proof.

Hello! Apologies for the late reply :,)

I think that's a really interesting set up and I love how the dreams are a mirror to the plot point of dawnbreaker, we already saw in the game. This would be so cool to explore. How would his dynamic change with MC after these dreams? What would he think of the other LIs? Does he believe they love MC selflessly or does he assume the other LIs have ulterior motives? How would he react when he realizes Caleb is alive? Or MC is in contact with the leader of Onychinus?

I wonder, if he only dreams about them in current timeline or does he see MC in the myths as well? What would he do when he learns it's not only him but other men have shared similar past lives with her?

Omfg it's so mind-blogging to think about these scenarios. I'd love to hear more of your thoughts in this matter. Thank you, for sharing this 🥹🫶

[magicdustsworld]

Sooo when is part three coming out!!!! (I swear I checked your account before sending this) Last time I was only checking my notifications cus I asked to be tagged and I woke up and didn't see a notification and sent the ask lmfao I was only 20 mins late tho I DO CHECK EVERY 10 MINS IT WAS 20 MINS CUS I JUST WOKE UP

Omgg I love you enthusiasm, dear 😭❤️ I can't give a date but it'll be somewhere around next week.

Idk what's wrong with the tags but if you could send me your user I could add you in the taglist if I haven't till now (I am so sorry for that 🥲).

[magicdustsworld]

How many chapter is Vow going to have?

I don't have a definite count but ig it'd be around 10 - 15.

[cherryscript]

tbh idc about my follower number cuz the only thing I give a damn about is interaction. i fw ppl telling me how they liked it, what they'd want to see, how they felt or how i should've done it. an author’s true happiness comes from appreciations and constant interactions. I'm ready to hear anyone's thoughts, hcs or just some random yapping as long as they're not being an a hole. remeber i always appreciate readers reaching out to me, commenting and rebloging on my fics.

[celestialzdiviner]

Zayne Drabble

Zayne doesn’t say he loves you. No — wait… let me rephrase that. He can’t say that he loves you.

It hurts, both emotionally and physically for Zayne. His love for you is so great but can’t physically say it to you. 

The God, Astra forbids him to do so. In no matter what timeline, if he dares to utter such words — a curse will be laid upon him, making him feel the most excruciating pain as his ice covers his body.

But even then, Zayne will love you unconditionally and will continue to do so.

You feel cold? Here, have his coat.

You need something from the store? Wait for him, he’ll buy it for you on the way.

You like this food? He’ll remember it and cook it for you in the future.

Zayne will put his hand on your waist when walking together, to ensure that you don’t get separated from him. His grip always feel protective, gentle, and possessive.

In each appointment that you're almost always late on, makes him feel anxious and worried — thinking if you are in danger or if something has happened. Once you enter his office, he feels instant relief and immediately regain his composure. Though his words sound cold and distant, he is only hiding his true feelings.

This man, when it is time to sleep, always prioritizes your comfort before his. He’d pull you close, — hesitant at first, scared that his evol will act up — tucking your head towards his chest as he breathes in the scent of your shampoo. Feeling the warmth of your body assures him that you are well and alive and right beside him.

Zayne can’t say that he loved you, however, through his actions — you know how deeply in love he is with you. In this timeline… he’ll protect you and not lose you. 

Not again.

Reblogs would be appreciated!