#( SIGHS i miss when the show was still ongoing but alas. )

[covenchosen]

fixed up the rules i forgot how outdated it was here JHBJDSF

[hotchseyebrows]

good for her

a gotchgan and temily fic

the first @qvid-pro-qvo and @hotchseyebrows collab

a/n: my dearest darling qvo and i have a penchant for saying "yes, and" until the cows come home and well. here we are. also somehow this is the very first gotchgan fic on ao3 to my knowledge? it sure is exhausting being trailblazers but alas! the sacred duty falls to us

rating: explicit! very explicit- penelope likes her details, what can i say. minors dni, thank you kindly (threesome, teasing, cunnilingus, blow jobs, p in v sex, multiple orgasms, creampie)

read it here on ao3!

The ongoings and intricacies of the Garcia-Morgan-Hotchner household, told from Penelope Garcia herself to a very curious pair of BAU agents. Girls' night will never be the same again.

(In other words, Penelope gets absolutely spoiled by her two partners, and Tara and Emily get every single detail.)

word count: 4287

The energy is a low thrum in the crowd’s chest, most of them gathered near the edges and along the counter space. There’s too many points of focus - the final call for a bachelorette party about to make their way to another venue, the steady thumps of glasses being placed back on the wood countertops, people filtering in and out of bathrooms with too few stalls - but Emily can’t take her eyes off of the couple in the center. 

Derek and Penelope. Morgan and Garcia. On the dance floor, her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands on her hips as they rest their foreheads together and sway back and forth. Nothing else seems to matter to them when they’re together, except them. Him and her, their focus on each other just like Emily’s is. 

The songs are slow, but the rhythm beneath them is what is felt in Emily’s chest, as she hears the bartender announce her and Tara’s next choice for drink. She looks up, settles the tab, and then pulls away to walk back along the side of the place. The lights are low but perfect to give Tara another once over (tenth of the night, if she’s giving a conservative estimate). Looking up at her girlfriend’s smile and slowly working her way down her body. 

She’s not subtle, that’s for sure. 

“Looking for something?” Tara asks. Her voice has a little laugh in it, their own inside joke.  

Emily slides the drink into Tara’s hand. She sidles up to her partner, brushing a hand along her lower back. “Somehow I am still surprised that heels make you this tall.”

Tara laughs before taking a sip of her drink and leaving a grateful kiss on Emily’s temple. “6’3” easy, baby.” She sits down on her stool and grabs Emily’s hand with a smile. “Not that it’s not exhausting being this beautiful. That’s why I have you to fetch the drinks.” Emily laughs too, leaning in to kiss Tara.

After a moment, Emily pulls back and looks around. She wraps an arm around Tara’s waist. “Look at the lovebirds?” Tara laughs into her drink, looking towards the dance floor. Well, what’s left of the dance floor. It’s late, and the place isn’t known for its vibrant dance experience anyway, so the dance floor currently consists of a DJ playing slow jams (on request) and Derek and Penelope lost in their own world.

It almost feels like an invasion of privacy watching them dance now, Pen’s lips near Derek’s ear, the way he’s smiling gently yet with some hidden meaning surely behind it Emily’s too far out of the loop to ascertain. She can take a guess, though, as the two of them laugh and somehow get even closer - a miracle, truly. Penelope nudges their noses together before pulling him into a kiss. It makes Emily smile to see it.

That’s when Hotch arrives. 

“Emily,” he says, voice warm, if not a little worn for the late hour, “and Tara. Good to see you.” 

“You, too, Hotch,” Tara says, lifting her drink to him. 

After he and Derek retired, Emily was uncertain how they’d keep up with each other. It was Penelope who was that connection once they left, keeping the rest of the team up to date, with... well, both of them. It didn’t take long for Emily to deduce that it was more than one former agent who she was going home to, especially when girls’ nights ended with one or the other getting her home.

Nevertheless, even after five years for Hotch and a meager two for Derek, it’s still a shock to see him out of a suit and tie, though the polo isn’t too far of a cry from professional. 

They make some kind of small talk as Emily and Tara work on their drinks, finishing them while the song finishes as well. Aaron fills them in on the judicial consulting he does, and Emily can’t help but spill a couple of case details while the two on the floor start to drift back towards the table. Tara nudges Emily's side with a knowing smile, drawing her attention to the way Derek is spinning Penelope around with one hand and making her giggle as they maneuver closer.

That’s when Penelope turns her head just a little, sees Hotch, and lights up, making a beeline towards him, arms throwing around his neck and giving him a firm kiss on the cheek. 

“Aar-Bear!” she yells, and the music isn’t loud enough to drain out the endearment completely. Derek isn’t far behind her, hand on her lower back, rubbing along a seam of the dress she’s wearing. 

“Hey, Hotch,” Derek says, and his eyes are shining just as bright as Pen’s, even if his touch is restrained just to her. “Missed you.” 

His voice is still warm, however, and his eyes are soft. Emily dips her gaze briefly for her drink, sure to lift her eyes again to see the way he hugs her. “Hey, Pen, Derek. You ready to go?” 

It seems to crush her - her eyes go wide and sorrowful, and even as Derek wraps around her from behind she can’t hide her pout. “We have to leave? But, my darlings -” 

“We’ll see you soon, Penny,” Emily promises, Tara nodding next to her, arm wrapping around her waist. A united front against the force that is Penelope Garcia. “We’ll have another girls’ night, get you good and proper wasted.” 

Penelope lets out a dreamy sigh. “There’s that London in you - okay, okay, okay, I guess I am being… swept away by one of my knights in shining armor.” Her hands lift in a show of surrender, and Derek smiles at Hotch as he passes him towards the exit of the bar. Emily doesn’t miss the squeeze of their hands in the passing, or the way that Hotch lingers back to watch Derek and Penelope stumble forward through the entrance and out into the parking lot where his car is. Derek can only manage a wave as Penelope leans on him, and quickly ensures her safety into the front seat before getting into the back himself. 

“Thanks for looking after them,” Hotch says, turning back to Emily and Tara with a smile that they would have never seen on a case. “I owe you both.” 

“You don’t, but if you’re offering to pay for our Uber…” 

There’s a little laugh shared among the three of them, and Hotch opens his mouth to answer. Unfortunately, confirmation is lost as Penelope sticks her head out of the window without a thought in the world, blonde curls falling in front of her face as she yells out to Aaron. “Aaron Hotchner, my sweet love, if you don’t get in this car and take me home to rail me right now, I will scream.” 

Tara and Emily can’t help the way they stop, heads whipping around to look at Penelope. Her smile is bright, and they have just enough time to look back at their old unit chief. Aaron has gone a bright, deep red, and Penelope has not budged from her position out of the window of their SUV. 

“Well?” the FBI analyst calls out again, and Emily has to keep her hand over her mouth to hide the way she’s about to break at the look on Aaron’s face. 

“S-Sorry, I’ll - I’ll see you both,” he manages, starting to move towards the car he has to now drive. 

“Wonder what that looks like at the… Garcia-Morgan-Hotchner home,” Emily whispers to Tara, hand still over her mouth.

Tara does laugh, though - Hotch looks like he’s struggling to maintain any semblance of composure as he makes his way to the car, and she can see Derek’s face on Penelope’s neck as she waves wildly at them when the vehicle drives off. “It is… intriguing,” she admits, and Emily can’t hold in her laugh any longer as the two of them find their own way home. 

-

It lingers. Penelope’s words, Hotch’s face, Derek’s laugh sounding off from the backseat. It sticks with Tara and Emily on the way home, and Emily is the one who eventually breaks. 

It’s an innocuous enough text. The response, however, required a bit more context. 

-

Emily: so did he rail you?

Pen: 🥴😵‍💫🥳🤩☄️🍑🍆🍌🍽

Emily: …… not the dinner plate.

Pen: what!!! he had to clean up the mess somehow ;)

Pen: do you want… details? because i can give you details…

-

Tara and Emily have to pause. Take a moment, look at each other, trying to decide if details are what they want at this moment. On the one hand, that would be more information than they ever thought they would get about two of their closest friends (they know far too much about Penelope for much to be a surprise - they think.) but on the other, it’s been incredibly… intriguing, this glimpse into the Garcia-Morgan-Hotchner household. They weigh the options, and curiosity wins out in the end.

They do in fact want all the details. 

Go for it, Pen, Tara responds, and they are not nearly prepared enough for the deluge of texts they get next. 

-

Pen: at every red light i was grabbing his thigh and ghosting my hand along his, you know, and turning back to grin at derek who was just watching me tease aar

and derek wouldn’t be left behind and so he was leaning forward and kissing aaron on the ear and the neck and me, and by the time we’re about to turn in and we park he’s kissing me before we even get into the house, as SOON as we’re in the driveway

aar just gets so pretty when he's flustered!!! can you blame us for wanting to rile him up?? plus. hes SUCH a good kisser, my goodness

Pretty. That word sticks out to Emily, but before she can linger on it too long, Tara is jabbing her with her elbow. There’s no time for wondering, because Penelope is typing with experienced fingers and the two of them are enraptured. 

Pen: his cheeks just get so pink and flushed and he stammers when he’s all nervous but he’s still aaron, you know? so he’s all bossy and telling me to get inside and derek is laughing and pushing him forward and everything

and he's so HANDSY, like i dont think anyone would be surprised that derek cant keep his hands off either of us, but aaron... he's so. yea

-

Already they’ve learned so much about their former boss. It’s enough to make Emily’s eyes widen just a little bit, leaning back from the screen to think. It hasn’t gotten too explicit yet, but at the speed Penelope is going it’s only a matter of time. 

“She’s still going,” Tara warns her, her own eyes wide. She moves to set her phone back on the table, but Emily’s hand reaches out to stop her, lifting it back up to eye level. “We could stop, now. Delete from here.” 

Emily takes a breath. But she knows what she wants. “We asked for this,” she reminds her, and the two of them dive back in. “And… we have to know.” 

With Tara’s nod, they keep going. 

(The string of texts they get afterward are forever cemented into Tara and Emily’s memories. Not only that, but the both of them are eternally grateful that any consulting work Hotch or Morgan do is resigned to phone calls and emails, as they are uncertain they’ll ever be able to look either of them in the eye again.)

-

he keeps stopping me on the way to the bedroom to press me against the wall and slip his tongue in my mouth or to press me in between him and derek and trace his tongue down between my cleavage, so im already all worked up before we even get close to our room

and honestly. thank the universe that jack has been at a friend's this weekend because oh boy!! i have no desire to scar my beloved jack attack with his fathers'.... Behavior

ANYWAY and he doesn’t hesitate to pull my dress down, which, a) MEN, there’s a zipper, just tug a little, and b) SO hot when he just has to get right there as quick as possible, mouth on boob as soon as possible. not to mention derek is lifting my skirt and working on my tights, which, thank god, it was time to take those bad boys off after all day at a desk

so now derek is palming my ass and biting at my neck and aaron can't decide which nipple to suck on, so he's switching between them and groaning against my skin, and im just already so drenched

and then before i can blink, aaron, AARON, the only one without a singular drink tonight, looks up at me, and is on his knees. just drops. and i look down and he is under my skirt and before i can breathe his tongue is on my clit and he’s eating me out like he is dying of thirst ladies

and derek has to hold me up because we arent even in the bed and my knees buckle because oh my GOD he's not holding back at ALL, tongue flicking at my clit and then slipping inside of me and groaning against me again, and derek gives my tits some attention with a free hand as he murmurs in my ear and nibbles at my earlobe

and at that point im jello, im shaky, barely standing, i’ve got two gorgeous men determined to make me come, then then aaron is pulling one of my legs up over his shoulder, and he seems to remember, in that moment, my direct request and he works up to using three fingers to fuck me, stretch me open until im coming all over his against derek and unable to think let alone speak and say something coherent. but are we done? NO - not railed, ladies

and im just slumped on them both- which in reflection is such a marker of our love and how safe i feel with them because i was not supporting my own weight at all, and it didn't even occur to me- and aaron is kissing my thighs and smirking while derek nuzzles my cheek for a few moments before im unabashedly whining for more

and when aaron smirks, when he SMIRKS, you know he is not done. and derek does not hesitate, he is sucking marks into my neck and he is asking if im a good girl and deserve more (yes) before he and aaron almost fully lift me to get me to bed. i am now in bed. i have two gorgeous men standing over me, one of them with me all over his face and then i realize. im basically undressed and they have not BUDGED.

and that simply will NOT do, because i want to see my loves in all of their glory (i mean time and place- sometimes it really makes all three of us go crazy if they are fully clothed while im totally naked), but there's nothing i wont get if i break out the 🥺 look especially with my tits out and my legs spread open just right

so i break out the look, im 🥺🥺🥺 with the best of them, and derek and aaron look down at me and they’re so soft and gentle, all ‘what’s wrong, baby girl?’ and ‘what d’you need, pen?’ and it’s like, i need my boys, that’s what i need, and when i say glory i mean glory, i mean that you haven’t seen GOD until you’ve seen derek morgan and aaron hotchner strip off their clothes for you, all so they can make you come a Second time

and i dont even ask for it, but derek tugs hotch in for a kiss before either of them push off their boxers and that makes my heart melt cause any reminder i have won the cosmic lottery in terms of triadic love will do that to a person (and also my puss THROB cause they are just playing up the tongue so much and im so sure aaron still tastes like me, you know? so ridiculously outrageously hot) and then finally i watch them both slowly reveal themselves to me, which like is nothing new but still makes me feel crazy because jesus!!!!!! i can't even begin to explain how big they are

and so in my field of view are two perfect huge dicks, two perfect awesome men, and me on the bed whining for both of them!!! and i must get some full words out because derek is chuckling and kissing me and saying how i requested someone in particular first, and then aaron is lifting my leg and pushing his fingers back in me and then derek is asking if he can fuck my mouth which do i even have to say yes??? (obviously i do, good communication always, but it comes out as yesyesyesyesyes because OBVIOUSLY DEREK 🙄)

so then the both of them help me get on my hands and knees so my beautiful baby can curl his fingers against my gspot all slow and doing these tiny kitten licks against my clit while using his free (big, huge, STRONG) hand to grab at my hip so tight i still have the marks, while derek kisses me a few more times before maneuvering himself to get his gorgeous and divine cock brushing against my lips, but not fucking into my mouth even when i whine and stick out my tongue

i am trembling at this point, okay? i am on the brink — AGAIN — and i know he’s holding back for a reason because i have a great mouth and im VERY good at using it. but then i realize he’s looking up at aaron, too, GRINNING, says “ready, baby?” and before i can think he’s got his hand on my jaw and he’s telling me to open up, and then i feel aaron start to push into me as derek is feeding me his cock and im - im gone, im in heaven, im levitating okay, because i am stuffed full of cock at both ends and im in my happy place

cause ladies, i really dont think i can properly express just how fucking HUGE these two are, like my brain turns to mush with just one of them inside of me but both of them like that? oh my god, my brain was leaking out of my ears barely able to stay up on all fours- and they don't even move at first just this slow slow push in as deep as they can on that first thrust and then just waiting while i twitch and tremble in between

and don’t even talk to me about the sounds they’re making — derek goes all tight and tensed and “yea baby girl” so earnestly but aaron goes all slack-jawed and noises that don’t sound like anything other than him, and then when i look up, tears in my eyes from, well, these inches of cock im taking, derek, sweet incredible huge derek, asks me if im ready for more, and when i blink up, nodding, and he can tell im not tapping out that’s when they both FINALLY start moving

and they are so well practiced at moving in rhythm together, at first they are both thrusting in and out at the same pace, making me so full and then so empty all at once, and then slowly they start working towards a rhythm where im never empty which is precisely what i need and aaron is groaning and telling derek that im dripping and leaking all over his cock and derek thumbs at my cheek and tells me im "such a good girl, taking two big cocks and loving it, needing more" and aar is gripping at my thighs so perfectly

i know there’s gonna be marks there, later, and that when we’re all done he’s gonna kiss them all sweet and gentle and make sure im okay, but right now all i can think is nothing but oh my god and yes and more. and then i hear aaron say, “i know she wants more, she wants our cum, derek” and that’s it, he’s so smart, hits the nail on the head, and he can tell because im clenching around his cock and desperately swallowing around derek’s, and there’s no time for patience because he said it and that’s what i NEED in that moment, i need them to come inside me and on me and all of it

and they both GROAN and then aaron chuckles because i just proved him so right and he starts thrusting harder and faster. derek does too a little but he also worries about hurting my throat by being reckless, and it makes my head spin to feel how he loves me like that, but then my brain is mush again because aar is rubbing my clit and bemusedly wondering how much more im gonna come before they fill me up properly

and i know he wants me to come again but i want him to come inside of me and make it messy, and so what happens is im moaning around derek’s cock, who’s groaning and trying not to fuck my face too hard but he watching me and aaron who’s fucking into me and who now has both my legs spread so wide im just on full display, and each time he fucks into me im moaning again, and it’s just a cycle and they’re heaping on praise and before i can think im coming again around aaron because he has not let up on my clit, and then he’s pushing a finger inside along side his cock too and i don’t know how he hasn’t come yet but i know he’s close, and i know derek’s close, and i know they want a third orgasm out of me because they’re incredible and insane

and tears are on my cheeks and drool all over my chin at this point because it's just so much incredible and wonderful sensation and im so stretched around aaron anyway, but then he slips that finger in? god. it reminds me of the few times we've had the time and energy to, well have them both inside of me like that and im just trembling and whimpering around derek's cock and i thank my lucky stars i don’t have a cold so that derek doesn't have to take his cock out of my mouth at all at this, just fucking my throat and watching me get a little lightheaded from only breathing through my nose and how good im being fucked

and when derek starts biting his lip i know he’s close, and i know i am too, and then i feel the way aaron grabs at my thigh and shifts forward and then he’s fucking into me, and can twist that finger, and can hit my gspot until im seeing stars, and god bless his stamina but i finally feel his rhythm falter and for one blissful moment derek pulls out completely, and aaron is out of me too, and i just know what’s coming as i can take a full breath before i feel der fuck into my mouth, and then he’s coming, babes, he’s coming and i get to swallow it all, and aaron gets to watch the way i whine with it and he loses himself and then HE’S coming from being inside me and watching some of derek’s cum drip from my lips, and as he fucks his cum into that’s when the third orgasm hits and im just — im gone. i am GONE, ladies. i can’t believe im alive. standing. able to speak.

-

Tara’s eyes go wide. She hasn’t been able to breathe, let alone think for about twenty minutes. She turns to look at Emily, who, while getting these texts herself, has trouble breathing or thinking as she watches Tara type out some kind of response.

Her fingers start. Stop. Start again. Emily feels her pain, isn’t sure she’d even be able to respond after all of that. Her collar feels tight. “Good god, Pen.” 

When Tara sends it, Emily’s phone alerts her of the notification. She lifts it up to glance at it.

Tara: “holy… shit….” 

Pen: "but anyway :) i am so sore today in the best way and have used that leverage to be utterly pampered all day long :) i love my boys so much"

“I’ll say,” Tara laughs, and it’s a little hysterical, leaning back on the couch next to Emily, pushing fingers against her temple as she reaches for the wine in front of her. 

There’s silence in their house, save for Sergio’s lone meow as he bats at one of his toys in the other room. A needle could drop and it’d deafen the both of them, especially as Emily moves to lean against Tara and sigh. 

“She seems… happy,” she eventually settles with, hand moving down to gently rest on Tara’s thigh. "And she definitely knows how to tell a story, my lord."

“One word for it,” Tara concurs, taking a sip of her red. “Good for her.” 

And with one last glance to her phone, Emily lifts it, locks it, and reaches forward to set it down on the coffee table. “Good for her,” she repeats, with a solemn and a careful lift of her own glass. 

And when she raises it, Tara doesn’t hesitate, the gentle clink bringing Sergio running to curl up in a lap of his choosing.

[eyeswithoutafqce]

just a small beatle john blurb i wrote :))

john stomped in the house, sighing deeply and almost ridiculously as he kicked his shoes off, not caring where they landed. you nearly jumped out of your skin when one hit the closet door and banged to the floor, not hearing johns overly dramatic entrance until now. you had been living with john for over three years now, deciding that since you were so close, it would be easier to just live in one house & split the rent, so you had since been used to his little temper tantrums. you chuckled to yourself as you sat up on your bed, hearing him stomp his way up the stairs. you giggled slightly again, getting the last of it out because you knew better than to laugh in his face in the middle of his mood. alas, the door flung open, revealing a grumpy-faced, sour-mooded lennon, who in your opinion, looked like a angry kitten. you couldn’t help but smile at the sight in front of you as you tutted.

“well a big hello to you too! what’s the matter, john?” you asked through a giggle. john only humphed and threw himself down onto your bed, his face just missing your lap. you chuckled once more and let your hand fall into his hair, stroking through your fingers through it softly.

“what happened, love?” you asked, concern laced in your tone as you massaged his head softly. john didn’t respond, which only made you more nervous. you cared very deeply about him, for he was your best friend... and more than that, only to you. you, very unfortunately, have had a crush on john for an ongoing thirteen years now. you would never say anything to him, of course, in fear it would ruin your friendship. the pair of you were the classic ‘bonnie & clyde’ duo, you were never without each other. john told you everything and you to him.

in which when money was tight and jobs were sparse (for john, not an option with the band!) you decided it would be easier to just move in together.

you practically lived with each other before, each at one another’s houses every day. there wasn’t a day you didn’t see johns face, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. but with this growing crush on your best friend of nearly fifteen years, it had progressively become harder to hide this from him. but nonetheless, you managed. you wouldn’t ever want to lose john, for you’d lose a piece of yourself. though it was probably cliche with the whole ‘crush on your best friend’ ordeal, you couldn’t help but fall in love with that damn cheeky smile and the sweet personality that john winston lennon possessed.

“johnnyyyy” you called out to him a sing-songy voice, in hopes for some sort of reaction out of the sulking boy at your knees. instead, you only got a grunt and a small movement of the hand. better than nothing, you thought.

“you know you can tell me anything!” you told him, leaning closer to his ear when saying so. nothing. you sighed in defeat. you couldn’t get a reaction out of him, but you weren’t going to let him sit around and be sad. soon enough, an idea popped into your head. you smiled as you turned to sit on your side and slid your arm down near his.

“alright, i guess i’ll just have to tickle it out of ya, then!” you announced, and before he could protest, you reached down to his armpit and tickled him, moving your free hand down to his neck to do the same. he squeaked and giggled as you began the motion, squirming around like a little worm in your clutch. the both of you laughed like maniacs until he finally chanted for you to stop.

“gonna speak now?” you asked, depending wether you would stop or not on his answer.

“yes! fine, fine! i’ll talk!” he squealed through giggles, practically begging for you not to repeat your motions again. you laughed as you made your way off of him, where you ended up sitting against the wall of your bed. he joined you as the laughter died down and leaned his head against your shoulder. you gently placed your hand on his knee in comfort. john wasn’t one to willingly express his feelings, it was usually forced out by you, because you knew it was awful for him to bottle things up. bad things happened when john bottled his emotions.

“what happened, johnnybug?” you turned towards him, using the nickname you had used for him ever since you two had first met as children. at that, john turned to face you with tired eyes and a solemn face you didn’t often see. your heart broke for your best friend as his eyes were usually sparkling and filled with joy, but today the life had drained from them. you moved your hand to his cheek and stroked it softly with your thumb, your gaze still locked on his; his on yours. at last, john broke away and placed his head on your shoulder once more. you sighed heavily and took his hand in yours, interlocking your fingers for comfort.

“the boys, they didn’t like the song i’ve been working on.” john said, deflated. “i’ve been working on this bloody song for over a year! they all made fun of it...” he trailed off.

“and i guess it’s just a lot to take in, everything really.” he continued. “i’ve just been... all over the place! stressed out. life is so much to handle!” he exclaimed, tears pricking at his eyes now. your heart ripped even more now, if it was even a possibility. you loved him so much, the last thing you ever wanted was to see him hurt. why didn’t i see the signs? you thought to yourself. he was obviously stressed out, why couldn’t i have seen that?

“don’t go blaming it on yourself, now.” john said, as if he had read your mind. “you know how i’m a little bit more...” he paused, looking for the word. “personal.”

but still, you couldn’t help but feel bad that you didn’t see the signs of overwhelm in john. you could usually see right through him, this was not the case.

“john, i’m so sorry...” you whispered, your eyes filling with tears. you felt awful that he had to endure pain alone. locking your gazes once more, johns eyes had softened and shown pity and compassion as he placed a hand on your face.

“what did i tell you.. don’t go blaming yourself. cmon princess, don’t be sorry...” john whispered, using your age-old nickname as he caressed your face. you couldn’t help but let your tears flow. he was so caring. even in his darkest hours, when he felt his worst, john was still looking out for you.

“john i’m so sorry... i should’ve seen the signs.” you started, with a sigh. “please, if you ever feel like this again, you need to talk to me about it! it’s bad to keep things bottled up...” you ranted, looking deeply into his beautiful brown eyes, seeing below the surface of what the world really saw of john lennon.

what the world saw of john lennon was a sweet, outgoing beatle caught up in the euphoric eras of stardom, singing his heart out on the stage and showing that the world was really, truly in the hands of his boyband. but what you saw of john lennon was the sweet, innocent, shy smile you first met when he was only an awkward schoolboy. the john lennon you knew was the silly little man who danced around in his living room and bounced on the couches when he was excited. the sweetheart who would hold you when you cried, or make you soup when you were sick, or stare at you when you laughed because he thought ‘your smile could light up a room.’ what you knew of john lennon was what you fell in love with.

you broke out of your trance as he smiled at you, your heart warming at the sight. you felt your heart rate speed up as he leaned his forehead in to touch yours. you could feel his warm breathing on your face as his eyes connected with your own, you felt the entire world stop. you felt as if your soul was blasting fireworks and having a thunderstorm all at once, it was nearly too much to take in. you couldn’t control your body, you began to lean in. everything was frozen. you closed your eyes and felt your lips touch with johns. you felt your brain explode as you felt johns sweet, soft lips collide with yours and a chill ran down your spine. for years, you ached to do this. you held your lips there for a few seconds, taking in every inch of your euphoria and the sweet taste of his lips.

then, realization set in.

you could’ve cried as you realized what you had done. your head started to spin as you pulled away, eyes filling with tears. you were in shock, words wouldn’t make their way out of your mouth. much to your dismay, you opened your eyes and stared into johns. his expression was unreadable as you examined him, his mouth slack and eyes wide.

“johnny, i...” you began, not being able to finish your words. a warm tear slipped down your cheek.

“why did you...why did you do that?” john asked silently. your heart wrenched at the words. did he not want you to kiss him?

well of course he didn’t! you thought to yourself. you took a friendship you cherished and ruined it.

john began to get up and you couldn’t help but sob. your head was spinning as you watched him move from the bed and walk out of the door.

“john! please!” you cried, wishing that this was all just a bad dream. tears cascaded down your cheeks as you rolled forward and let yourself go.

nearly a half hour had passed and john had not returned. you began to grow profusely worried, wondering where had gone and worse yet, if he would ever come back. for the last thirty minutes, you had been simply sitting in your armchair in the living room, feeling sorry for yourself. with tears still running down your face, you stood up and grabbed the phone dialing the next person you would run to when you felt like this. the first would be john, but he was obviously out of the question at the moment.

“hello?” you were utterly relieved to hear george’s sweet, caring voice in the phone. you had known george for as long as you had known john, he introduced the pair of you. really and truly, you owed it all to george, if not for him you wouldn’t had met the person you loved. but at the very moment you could curse poor george for introducing john to you, because you wouldn’t have ended up in this embarrassing situation. but yet again, that wasn’t his fault. it was your own.

“george... hi...” you began, your voice crackly and hoarse. you could practically hear him begin to worry, simply because that’s the way that he was. he was one of the most compassionate and selfless people you would ever meet in your life, an amazing person to have as a friend. but with that came worry, if one little thing had gone wrong for you he would come running to fix it, first making sure that you were okay.

“y/n, are you alright?” george asked, as you expected him to.

“um, not really...it’s john..” you trailed off, glancing at the floor, tears brimming your eyes again. you heard him sigh. george had known about your feelings for john for quite a while now, he was the first person you had ever told. he made a pact with you to never tell a soul, especially not john. he still kept his promise to this day.

“i’ll be right over.” and with that, george hung up the phone. you sighed in relief as you made your way back to your armchair to wait for him, curling your knees to your chest. you breathed heavily as you stared out the window in front of you, praying by some miracle, john wouldn’t despise every fibre of your being and come back to you. you let out an upset whimper at the idea of him never returning. my goodness, you wouldn’t know what to do without john. your tears nearly became hysterical at the thoughts, so you rested your head on your knees and closed your eyes until george had arrived.

you weren’t sure how long you were asleep, but you woke up in a tight pair of arms wrapped around your waist, and were no longer in your uncomfortable position in the armchair. long fingers ran comfortably through your hair, making your sleepiness seep back in. you fought it off, opening your eyes and allowing them to adjust to the light before looking up and seeing george, gazing at you sweetly.

“g’mornin, sleepyhead.” he giggled. you yawned.

“god, what time is it?” you mumbled, sitting up and stretching your arms above your head.

“nearly five pm.” george answered. you frowned.

“and no sign of john...” you mentioned in a whisper, memories of the day slowly making their way back into your brain. you gazed at the floor and played with your fingers, facing the opposite direction of george. he tutted, placing a comforting hand on your lower back.

“y/n, what happened?” george whispered.

“i kissed him, george.” you began, sighing out the breath you had silently been holding. “i kissed john because he was stressed, and i thought it was a good idea, and i’ve been in love with him forever and i’ve been wanting to do it since i can remember..and i shouldn’t have! because now he’s gone, and he probably hates me and he’s probably never comin-“ you were cut off by your own sobs. “coming back.”

george had a look of complete pity on his face. with a very evident frown, he completely engulfed you in his arms. you wept against his shoulder, feeling your whole body deflate with sobs.

“oh y/n...” george whispered, combing through your hair with his fingers. you could see george’s eyes beginning to tear as you sat up to look at him. he never wanted to see his friends upset.

“I’m sorry, georgie...” you whispered, not daring to meet his eyes again. you didn’t need to hurt anyone else tonight. his hands slipped around your own and kept them in a gentle, but strong grip. the grip that reminded you of him, in a way. so gentle, yet so strong.

“love, you don’t need to be sorry.” he shushed you, tilting your head up to look him in the eyes. “cmere, let’s have a talk.” he told you, as he readjusted you and set you on his lap.

“john... he gets very defensive.” he began, staring down at your hands intertwined rather than maintaining eye contact like earlier. “sometimes, when he’s upset, he’ll do things that he knows he shouldn’t do, but he just can’t control them. and sometimes, he just needs to be alone.”

“but let me tell you something...” george continued. “john loves you more than anything in the world. i swore on my life with him not to tell you, but you need to know it now. john loves you. the way you love him.”

your jaw nearly dropped, but you managed to keep it in place. he loved you?

you couldn’t believe what you were hearing, you never thought this day would come. an overwhelming wave of emotions had hit you and you stared up at george with a star-stuck look in your eyes. he chuckled in amusement.

“that’s right, he told me so!” he giggled once more, making yourself smile a bit.

“listen y/n, i don’t know why he ran, but i’m thinking it was because he was overwhelmed.” george stated in a more serious tone. you nodded. you began to realize that maybe it wasn’t the best time to have kissed him then, when he was so stressed out the way he was.

“but i know for one thing that he will be back, no doubt about it. he loves you more than anything in the world. he’ll be back, i promise.” george smiled, staring deep into your eyes. sparkling in those beautiful eyes you saw joy and some sort of adoration. you could not ask for a better friend in your life.

and he never broke promises.

“thank you, george.” you said softly, leaning forward to throw your arms around his neck, squeezing him tight. he returned the favor, kissing your temple before squeezing you just as tight.

george had left about an hour ago, leaving your shared house completely empty with you. there had still been no sign of john. you sighed heavily, seating yourself on the steps near the door, staring. if i try hard enough, maybe i can make him bust through this door. you thought to yourself. right. now. squeezing your eyes shut, you hoped and prayed with everything in you john would come flying through the door and throw his arms around you.

but, to no avail.

you sighed once more as you opened your eyes, solemnly leaning you head against the wall and bringing your knees up to your chest. you were exhausted and hadn’t even realized. staring at the door, you let your eyes fall closed in a stressful doze, wishing you had your john beside you.

you had no idea what time it was. no clue where you were. you just knew you heard a click of a door. your eyes flew open and began to adjust, sitting yourself up. at that moment, you saw the person you had been aching to see the entire day. your heart leapt out of your chest and your eyes brimmed with tears of joy.

“john?” you croaked out.

“hey princess...” he answered.

not even giving him time to explain himself, you launched yourself at john, throwing your arms around him. you had felt relieved, happy and angry at him all at once, but the feeling in your soul was nothing short of ecstatic. you could feel your face paced heartbeat collide and sync with johns. warm tears streamed down your face, you took in his scent. sandalwood, cigarettes and cherry chapstick. at last, he pulled back from you, staring deep into your eyes. tears were running down johns cheeks as they were yours.

“y/n, im in love with you.”

a surge of joy rushed through your entire body and you nearly shivered. your ears rang and you could hear nothing but the heavy breathing between the two of you and the clock on the wall in the kitchen, ticking. alas, your brain programmed to come out of the shock and your lips curled upwards in a smile. giving john no time to protest, you launched at him once more and smashed your lips against his. the amount of delight the pair of you felt was immeasurable, john smiling into the kiss. this was like nothing you had ever felt before in your life, nothing could compare to it. you finally pulled back to take in johns features, his red lips swollen and teary eyes slanted in triumph. you smiled brightly at the sight in front of you.

“you didn’t run this time.” you whispered, bringing a hand up to his face to run down the side of his cheek and a soft finger down his jawline.

“never again.” john whispered in return, which sounded more like a promise than a statement. you smiled brighter at him and laid your head on his shoulder. he lifted you up and you squealed, both of you giggling as john carried you up the steps.

laying you down on the bed and crawling in beside you, he leaned into your ear, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your neck and whispering,

“i love you, princess. forever.”

[tiaragqueen]

How about something for Yan!Fubuki and rather rebellious Darling?

Exigency

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Fubuki x Female! Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,1k+

✂ Trigger Warnings: Possessiveness, death, slight gore, manipulation, implied stalking

[Edited]

***

If you like my writing, please support me on ko-fi!

“Sometimes I’m not sure I’m all you’ve got. Sometimes I’m not sure if you love me or not. One thing I know girl, I care for you, and the one thing that I want is that you care for me too.” - I Care About You [Babyface]

Living with Fubuki was probably a dream life anyone could ever ask for. Anything you wanted – clothes, jewelry, food, etcetera – she procured to the best of her ability. Her fame and confidence also made things easier for her to gain, although slight pressure to the sellers happened occasionally. She endeavored to create a comfortable and fulfilling life where the only thing you had to do was to give her the love she deserved, but it still wasn’t enough. You stayed aloof to her efforts, to her earnest confessions, and coldly rejected them all. The pain exceeded the heartbreak she felt when her sister unwittingly drove her childhood friends away, and Fubuki was getting impatient.

“You haven’t touched your food,” she remarked once she spotted the cold breakfast sitting on the nightstand. You said nothing and continued to stare outside despite her approaching figure. Fubuki sighed, massaging her forehead. “I know you hate me, but please, don’t starve yourself.”

It hurt to say that word, but there was no use in deluding herself into thinking you loved her. Ever since you learned about her involvement with your breakup, you began to ignore her. There were times when you almost forgot about the whole ordeal and got an urge to talk to her, but unfortunately, you caught yourself.

So far, the only person you conversed with was Lilly. The topic was mundane, and she noticed you refrained from discussing your ongoing problem with her, but it pained her all the same. How you were more comfortable interacting with her assistant than herself. She just wanted to help you by cutting that toxic man out of your life! He clearly didn’t love you as much as she was, as much as she could ever be, so why were you angry at her? Should you be grateful that he’d no longer bother you with his ingratiating smiles and fake concern? Should you be happy that you’d landed on a more responsible hand; one that would take care of you better than anyone in this world?

Why were you making things hard for her to fully love you?

“I see you’re still ignoring me, huh…” she mused, moving to sit beside you. “It’s been a week… I wonder how long you can keep that up.”

You twitched, and she knew you were listening albeit reluctantly. Whatever. At least half of your attention was on her now. She just had to use it perfectly before you started to lose interest.

“A powerful monster has been giving around strange meat to people and turns them into their kind. One of my subordinates informed me that your ex is a part of those monsters now.” Fubuki pursed her lips to prevent the smirk from appearing when she discerned your stiff body through her peripheral vision. “As a hero, I must fight the villains. Even if it means… killing them in the process.”

Your hands jerked and clenched on your lap.

Fubuki sighed, leaning against the headboard of your shared bed. She didn’t want to resort to this method, but she had no choice. She wanted you to learn about the consequences of your willful attitude. “Of course, I can kill him gently instead of the gruesome death he deserves. But… is kindness really worth it to a vicious creature like him? For all I know, he might be killing and eating some innocents right now.”

“He’s not evil.” you finally spoke, determine to keep his name clear. He might be your ex, but it didn’t mean you’d stopped loving him. Your separation had been abrupt, after all. “There’s no way he’d readily accept such a weird offer. He’s not thirsty for power.”

“I don’t know, [Name].” She fished out a photo of a green, beast-like creature from her pocket. “My subordinate gave me this. He looks the same as your ex, don’t you think?”

“It can be anyone, though.” you continued to resist, refusing to consider the evidence even for a moment. “Heck, it can be just a random monster they met on the street. There are so many possibilities, and him being my ex isn’t the only one.”

Fubuki frowned as though she pitied you. “Dear, how long are you going to deny it? I mean, look!” She showed another photo, this time, a picture of your friend in casual clothes. “Same hairstyle and hair color.”

But you didn’t notice the odd similarities, instead, you were focused on the new proof. “You… took a picture of my ex without his permission? How… how long have you been stalking him?!”

“Does it matter? Don’t you care about his life?”

“You don’t even give me a choice!” you retorted.

“I do, actually.” Contrary to your near hysterical state, Fubuki retained her composure. You used to think she was more emotional than you, but it seemed you’d underestimated her. This was probably the result of leading a huge group with different personas. “I’m offering you a merciful or terrible doom upon him because I care about you.”

Your mouth moved to speak, but no words came out. Was it even a legitimate photo of his monster self? He’d told you that he’d like to gain extra power someday, but you didn’t expect him to stoop so low. Maybe… maybe she was right. Maybe he really had changed, and you were too stubborn to admit it. Well, it wasn’t something anyone could readily accept anyway. Your friend suddenly transformed into a horrible being? That sounded like a cliché story, but alas, your world was a giant, continuous horror movie with no sign of ending.

Fubuki merely patted your shoulder sympathetically and stood up, mumbling something about understanding your feelings. You couldn’t hear anything aside from the serene chirping of the birds, and you stayed in the same spot until she returned half an hour later. Her greeting fell to deaf ears as she opened a plastic bag, revealing the deformed head of your deceased ex. One of his eyes was missing with blood flowing steadily down the sunken cheek and passed his sheared lips. The remaining eye stared into your soul, hollow yet evocative.

You wondered if there was a hidden intent to his murder beyond mere duty. The first time you’d told her about him, her expression conveyed no happiness. But why did she still hate someone who was no longer a part of your life? Was it because you’d come crying to her after your breakup? Was it because you’d lamented to her about the growing distance between you and him?

Was it because she was jealous of your relationship with him?

“It’s alright,” she whispered, rubbing your back in response to your shocked silence. “I know it’s hard to swallow, but it’s his choice to die this way. The least you can do is let him go and accept his passing.”

Sighing, Fubuki leaned forward and wrapped her arms around your waist. “I gave you choices, but you couldn’t answer. So, I took it upon myself to decide the best outcome for everyone.” She rested her head on the crook of your neck and heaved. “He won’t be able to get in our way anymore.”

[iwritethat]

Older Batsis: Birds

Request: More badass older Batsis~

A/n: When your bros find out you have a secret tattoo, but asking your scary sis about it takes guts.

>>>>—————————>

Having you as their older sibling could be... difficult. They knew you respected them and at least acknowledged them as your family members of sorts, despite the fact you refused to work with them. Ever.

They assumed you got your independent attitude from Bruce Wayne, your vigilante father figure, except when you sternly told the Justice League or anyone else for that matter that “I work alone.” they immediately believed you. Batman just didn’t have that lone wolf aesthetic with his deadly following of birds and batgirls.

Dick was probably the only one who remembered the warm heart underneath the frosty scales of your armour, you didn’t team up with them nor did you really stick in one place for a lengthy duration of time so when you rocked up to the Batcave with an arm slung over Wally’s shoulders they instantly paled.

.

“Hey Dick, pretty bird here flew from the nest and isn’t in the best of shape.” The speedster briefed your family, although you were balancing on the verge of semiconsciousness you pushed away from Wally with scoff.

“I’m fine alright... why’d you bring me here? Ah shit!” Pain sprinted through your nervous system and you instantly found yourself swooped up into the scarlet speedsters arms again.

“You’ll thank me later, I promise but even if you never forgive me I’d rather you be alive.” West gazed at you with concern filling his emerald irises and carried you over to the medical bay where he was met with Alfred and Bruce glaring at him.

It was expected that you remove you outer layer so the wounds were reachable but upon Alfred’s request you flatly declined.

“Not happening, at least not until I’m given some privacy.” This hushed the interrogation from your brothers who left the room because they weren’t stupid enough to argue with you, Damian was but Dick ushered him out before he could speak.

They’d definitely return, you regretfully couldn’t avoid your family forever even if it was to protect them. After Jason died, you all went your separate ways as your family were too broken to repair themselves when you attempted communication - they pushed you away in their state of grievance, so you stayed away. Bruce was seething at Wally for having to be saved - not that it was his fault, the man was protecting hostages at the time and you couldn’t exactly let the Flash die, it’d leave Central City unprotected and you were not replacing him. The Rogues would piss you off too much.

Alas you were correct, whilst preparing to leave since Alfred ensured you were at least stable (no prolonged stay necessary/wanted) and slipping on your jacket when Dick burst in.

“Woah wait you’re leaving?!” Upon hearing his yell, Tim and Jason bolted over from the Batcomputer to correspond a farewell.

“Just like that? (Y/n) stay for dinner or something...” Jason muttered, tugging your jacket to gain your attention although their surprising discovery muted oncoming persuasion.

“I didn’t know you had a tattoo!” Tim excitedly commented marvelling at the work depicted on your shoulder blade where your jacket had fallen to reveal your camisole underneath.

“Shit...”

“Is this what you didn’t want us to see earlier (L/n)? It suggests it is meaningful to you.” God you didn’t even hear Damian come in but he deduced the situation quickly, the boys immediately even more involved plainly to bug you like the little brothers they were.

“It’s nothing. Now move.” You coldly replied, securing your jacket to hide the object of their heightening intrigue.

“4 birds though?” Dick mindlessly stated, brows furrowed as he thought through numerous possibilities whilst you brushed past them toward the exit.

You gave an exasperated sigh, knowing that they were considering the meaning behind your creative secret but you were more focused on disappearing.

“It’s us!” Tim smugly clarified, smirking at your frozen figure. Damn his superior detective skills.

“...”

“Timbers, our badass, cold hearted sister would never.” Jason sternly stated, referring to your usual uninterested nature.

“He’s right. Tim is right okay?” Mostly you wanted Jason’s way of thinking to be the stereotypical view of you but it was overshadowed by your underlying love for them which was displayed by your defeated posture.

.

With a deep breath to replenish your confidence, you began by stripping your jacket, turning away from them to hide your expression and expose your detailed artistry.

“There’s 1 for each of you because I never want to forget, if something ever goes wrong then this is my anchor. Anyway, this bird represents Dick, it’s wings are spread because he’s always flying. He’s not afraid to fall and I admire that... but if he ever does I’ll be there to catch him.” The sincerity in your tone set them all on edge as you pointed to the highest bird, it was unexpected as they never believed you truly viewed them that way.

With their bewilderment, you continued, the action made easier being blind to their facial reactions. “Hm. That one is Jason’s-“

“The feathers are falling, it’s because I died I’m guessing.” The tallest commented, quite abrupt about the subject but you immediately corrected him with voice of determination.

“Originally it never had the falling feathers it was - still is the brightest colour since you were so full of life and intelligently bright too. I added them after you returned because I let you down, you lost apart of yourself but no matter what, you continue to fight. You’re so strong Jaybird, y’know that?”

“(Y/n) you-“ Before he could pipe in you briskly moved on, running your finger down your skin to pinpoint the next target.

“Smallest one is Damian, not due to his height but because he has the most room to grow and I can’t wait to see it. That bird has the kindest eyes, to match Dami’s heart.” A brief smile crossed your lips at that and you could only hope they’d wear one too.

“And the final one is for Timbers, the bird looking like it’s landing, he found his home here or at least I’d hope so. I wanted you to feel welcome and loved Tim, despite what you have to put up with. Even from me.” You hadn’t realised the lone stream staining your face, nor the crack in your voice during the final sentence but the boys likely picked up on it.

Your hand fell back to your side, their ongoing silence lead you to feel uncomfortable, you’d shredded your armour both literally and figuratively before them and they had nothing to say which encouraged you to throw on your jacket, stealthily wiping your eyes in the process. This is why you kept your feelings hidden, buried under sarcasm, silence and mild violence (you were a vigilante after all).

.

“Heh, but whatever. I better get outta here anyway, later losers!” Your tone was quiet and mildly awkward, shrugging off the previous soft atmosphere with a defensive insult.

“Hey, uh check this out. Ridiculous right?” Jason started, hesitantly grabbing your fleeting shoulder to show you an old battered photo he’d dug out of his jacket pocket. It depicted the two of you and Dick pulling immature faces, a joyful moment captured in time before his death.

“Yea-yeah... that’s so stupid Jay.” Neither of you meant it, the insults conveying a deeper sense of emotion to one another.

“Not as stupid as that.” Tim gestured to the handwritten instructions taped to the Batcomputer, the ones you’d given him when he first arrived as a guide. The boy picked it up so quickly that you didn’t think he even used them, let alone kept them.

“Don’t give us the cold shoulder (Y/n). We’re here for you, like you are for us.” Dick grinned, pleased with his remark.

“Right, because you guys have always got my back.” Was your unimpressed but amused reply, though Jason couldn’t resist the urge to mock you.

“I mean the tattoo is on your shoulder but nice try sis.”

“Your sense of humour is insufferable.” Damian muttered, he’d heard enough puns from Dick Grayson to last him a lifetime or 3.

A small laugh escaped you as you waved goodbye to your brothers, feeling like you’d strengthened your bond with them.

They were a good family, your tattoo would always remind you of that - maybe that was why you chose your shoulder blade? Because they’d always be looking over your shoulder, because you’d always have their back and they’d have yours. Because they were your little birds, not matter how tall or muscly they get.

.

-Bonus-

“Hey Wally, did you know about (Y/n)’s bird tattoo?” Dick casually asked his best friend once he returned from Bruce’s lecture.

“Obviously, it’s kinda hard to miss. It’d be even worse if I didn’t know about it.” Wally honestly responded, hands lazily shoved into the pockets of his black hoodie.

“...”

“Uh huh, and how exactly do you know about it?” The suspicion in Tim’s tone immediately caused the speedster to rethink his choice of words, they were playing him.

“We - um, why does that matter exactly?”

“As family, it’s of importance so I suggest you start talking West.” Damian lowly answered, hand placed over the hilt of his katana displaying his lack of patience for Wally’s sassy comebacks.

“(Y/nnnnn)!”

[bts-writes]

three beers and one wrong number

au: you text the wrong number and jesus christ you sent some embarrassing texts thank god the other guy is nice (and sounds cute) (from this link!)

featuring: kim namjoon

genre: fluff, a little bit of angst (just a pinch, really)

words: ~1.3k words

You hastily grabbed your new phone out of your front pocket, making sure not to drop it this time. Being the clumsy dumbass that you were, you dropped your phone last week in a Starbucks toilet, which refused to be resurrected by the ever-so-reliable rice immersion technique. And it worked for your ipod and ipad quite a few times before! But alas, your phone just completely gave up. And so, a million apologies to your mom later, you got a new one and were now back to normal programming. But of course, with a ton more care this time around.

You typed in your friend’s number and then proceeded with your message. You snickered to yourself in the first floor hallway of the Chemistry Building, as you relived what happened in your class a while ago.

“Lmaoooo bitch guess what” “professor Kim asked for my notes at the start of class bc he wanted to refresh last week’s lessons” “and all I wrote there was “im so fucking sleepy” i kid u not! and i did it in calligraphy too!!!” “AND HE SAW!!!! HE FRIGGIN SAW AND HE LAUGHED AND SAID “me too we both need caffeine”” “IM . DIE”

You then locked your phone, put it back into your pocket, and proceeded to walk to your dorm room after the quite embarrassing yet actually kinda cute Organic Chemistry class.

Hours later, you checked your phone and was met with slight disappointment when the screen showed no replies from your friend. “Maybe she’s busy”, you thought to yourself and then went back to reading the material for tomorrow’s Philosophy class. Hume wasn’t going to rise from the dead and teach you, anyway.

“jinah let’s go watch captain marvel”

You frowned, staring at the text you sent over four hours ago. You and Jinah, your friend, never made it a point to miss the Marvel movies. You both absolutely loved them and spent hours figuring out the ending to the ongoing Phase 3 of the MCU. Jinah bet Steve was gonna die; you bet Tony was. Despite difference of opinion, you agreed on one thing: you both wished to the high heavens you were both wrong.

You checked the time again. It was nearing five hours now since you sent the message. And to be honest, this radio silence was getting kinda weird ever since it started three days ago.

“my treat! just reply and say you’re not dead” “come on, i’ll even buy the milk tea” “if u don’t go, pepper dies” “miss pepper potts! our girl! MISS IRON WOMAN HOW CAN YOU NOT CARE!” “along with peter parker NOW COME ON”

Okay, fine. Jinah didn’t want to reply, so you were just gonna see the movie for yourself. Miss Carol Danvers was waiting.

“Park Jinah, use your goddamn phone.” You slowly blinked at your phone screen, with still zero replies after the twenty messages you sent her earlier today. Since the whole ignoring-you-even-with-captain-marvel-on-the-line incident two days ago, you decided to give her space. Maybe Jinah was going through something you didn’t know about; hell, maybe she dropped her phone in the toilet like you did. But today… today was kinda difficult.

You put down the nearly empty bottle of Smirnoff you had been holding on your desk, right beside the two empty ones. Today, you had deigned to drink alone in your dorm room, and bought three for yourself.

You slowly scrolled up the conversation, rereading the messages you sent her earlier.

“jinah i saw him again today” “he’s still as cute as ever” “and before u say anything, i’ve moved on” “it was just… weird” “like i know i don’t love him anymore” “and the what-ifs are pointless i know” “but my heart still feels like it’s being pricked, just a little” “like i miss him” “idk” “maybe one day it’ll finally go away yeah?” “i’m gonna go get beer i hate remembering him”

You stared at the bottle labels. Maybe three Smirnoffs weren’t enough.

“Ah, screw it. I’m gonna call you, bitch, even though you hate unannounced calls”, you muttered out loud to no one in particular, as the soft light from your bedside lamp gave the room a hazy comfort.

Your phone began ringing and ringing.

“Pick up, you lil shit”, you muttered again before grabbing your beer and finally finishing its contents.

Finally, the line opened.

“Hey! Park Jinah! Why have you been—“ you coughed from the sudden yelling, “the past week! Ignoring me again and again!” You were met with silence, which just honestly ticked you off even more. “Answer me!”

You heaved your upper body on your desk, sighing out loud. “Cha Eunwoo, that bastard. I… I saw him today. Jinah, y-you heard me, right? Eunwoo! God, he’s still so—“

“Um… excuse me.” A very deep voice that was definitely NOT Jinah’s interrupted you.

You sat straight up. Suddenly, it felt like the liquor you just downed was out of your system, and only awareness of the fact that you may have just been contacting the wrong person all week remained.

“This isn’t… Park? Was it Park? But, um, this is not Jinah.” The other voice, you assumed belonged to a guy, gently said.

“Shit, shit, shit”, you whispered to yourself. “Oh my god, I am so sorry! Why haven’t you said anything? I’ve been spamming your phone with texts for the past week, oh god.” You quickly uttered an apology, silently wishing for the ground to swallow you whole. It didn’t help that you actually called him, drunk on liquid courage, and ranted about your ‘ex’!

“I don’t know, I just thought you’d figure it out sooner. Sorry!”

“No, no. I should be the one saying sorry, Mr. uh… What’s your name?”

“Namjoon.”

“Ah, Namjoon. Hi, hello, Namjoon. I’m so sorry. Really.” You ruffled your hair in frustration. “You must have been annoyed.”

He giggled softly and by gods, it was hella cute. “It’s fine. Your first texts were entertaining, actually.”

“And oh god, I’m even more sorry for calling you while drunk. I apologize for that whole ranting mess. That was stupid, don’t think about it.”

“No, it’s okay! I understand…” Namjoon seemed to trail off in thought. You waited in silence as it seemed he wasn’t done talking. “But for what it’s worth, I’ll tell you a little cliche: time will do the trick, yeah?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“You said you wanted your heart to stop hurting? In your text?”

“Oh.” Right. You had sent those unbelievably emotional texts.

“It’ll go away. Just give it time.” He said, and for some bizarre reason, it actually felt like things were going to be alright. His strangely attractive voice gave you comfort and you didn’t even know him.

You smiled softly. “I hope so.”

“Okay, I’ll go now. But you remember to drink lots of water before bed, okay?”

He cared, that’s cute. “Yeap. Don’t worry, Mr. Namjoon.”

“Oh, yeah! I don’t even know your name. I just refer to you as “org chem nerd” in my head.”

You scoffed at your end of the line. “Ain’t that affectionate?” You were met with his laugh, which made you laugh a little in return. “I’m [Name].”

“Well, [Name]. It’s been nice talking to you. I’ll go now, okay?”

You nodded, not even realizing there was no way he could see you. “Okay. Thanks and sorry again, Namjoon.”

“Don’t worry about it.” And with another giggle, Namjoon hung up.

You stared at your screen for a few minutes, pondering over the events of the previous minutes. You didn’t even realize you were smiling.

a/n: let me know what u think! ehe

[aion-rsa]

Riverdale’s Mothmen Saga Reveals the True Monsters Among Us

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This Riverdale review contains spoilers.

Riverdale Season 5 Episode 17

“People believe what they want to believe.”

It’s no secret that Riverdale has trouble sticking the landing. With the notable exception of the debut season’s finale, each year has seen the resolution of its respective core mystery solved in an acceptable, yet not entirely satisfying manner. (Please don’t get me started on how things wrapped up with the Gargoyle King).

Alas, this trend has been broken by the latest episode “Dance of Death.” My initial impulse was to balk at how the series once again knocked on the door of allowing a supernatural denouement and ran away when it hit me, having the Truck Stop Killers be related to the Coopers/Blossoms — even tangentially — opens up creative possibilities for the show to try to tackle the impact of grief and generational trauma.

No, seriously.

This isn’t exactly new ground for the series, which has attempted in its own hamfisted way to comment on issues of loss and mourning since the very first episode. With the notable exception of its tribute to Fred Andrews (which tragically was written as a result of Luke Perry’s untimely passing), Riverdale often misses the mark when it tries to be profound.

The most recent example of this are the fifth season’s plotlines about Archie’s ongoing struggles with PTSD and, although it’s mainly danced around, human trafficking with the Truck Stop Killers. There is so much worthwhile to be said about these issues, and in the latter’s case Big Sky handles the subject with respect. But occurring on a series in which characters perform divinations that transform water into maple syrup diminishes the huge weight of these subjects.

Truth be told, this is a problem in which Riverdale faces every time it attempts to mirror real life problems. Think about it this way, what if the series intended for its Jingle Jangle plot to be a serious commentary on the opioid epidemic instead of lightweight entertainment? That would feel wrong, yes? The writers should stick to the glorious bullshit that is Riverdale‘s bread and butter (inexplicable dance numbers, palladium hunts, anachronistic gangs, glamorege eggs, etc) instead of brushing up against reality too much.

Or, better still, using said bullshit to strengthen the characters and storytelling.

Simply put, if Riverdale is going to have the cojones to try to tackle real life issues, it must do so in a way that enlightens and entertains while being true to the show’s own bonkers aesthetic.

Enter “Dance of Death.” A “Betty and Jughead solve a mystery” epic, this installment has the pair discovering that the Truck Stop Killers are actually an inbred offshoot of the Cooper/Blossom family. These murderous yokels embraced the Mothmen mythos to cover their tracks and scare off any potential investigators. And their plan worked, for a while. In the most Scooby-Doo, Where Are You? that this series has ever gotten, Jughead returns to talk to Old Man Dreyfus (John Prowse), in reality the ringleader of the murderous gang who just might have got away with it if it wasn’t for those meddling twentysomethings. It’s all so ridiculous that it takes your mind off of real-life horrors experienced by those society has thrown away that are handled with lip service here.

(A quick aside, the Starkweathers wearing Mothmen armor while attacking Jughead, Betty, Fangs, Tabitha and Toni was the coolest sequence this show has pulled off in ages).

As nice as it is to have stopped the Starkweathers, Betty still has no closure on her sister. So she asks Dreyfus about Polly’s fate. In a moment of humanity he draws her and map and as the episode closes, we see Betty and Alice in hysterics upon discovering Polly’s body in the trunk of a forgotten car in a junkyard. Their worst fears have come true.

With two episodes left this season, the core mystery has been resolved in a satisfying and (mostly) contrivance-free way. As much as I wish that bona fide alien Mothmen were flying around Riverdale, such flights of fantasy remain the domain of the Little Archie and Life with Archie comics — at least for now. With this show the future is anyone’s guess.

Next week’s episode includes performances of material from Next to Normal, the Tony-winning musical that deals with issues of mental health in a haunting way. Incorporating this material into the trauma currently being experienced by the Coopers is inspired. Whether or not it is a successful experiment remains to be seen, so join me back here next week when I’ll doubtlessly have more to say about Riverdale, the real world, and the tenuous storytelling that sometimes connects the two.

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Riverdale Rundown

FYI: If you or anyone you know needs help, the National Human Trafficking Hotline is 1-888-373-7888.

Tabitha’s friend and former Chok’lit Shoppe employee Lynette “Squeaky” Fields is an obvious reference to Manson Family associate Lynette “Squeaky” Fromme.

This episode was directed by Penelope Blossom herself, Nathalie Boltt.

R.I.P. Chad Gekko.

The contrivance of the week was how Archie was trapped in a mine fighting for his life and no one thought to call Betty or Jughead.

Veronica must have caught wind of Josie calling her dad a “little bitch” a few weeks back, as she does the same here.

Speaking of Hiram, it is clear that the writers have been making him into a “silly cartoon” of late. The reasoning? So he can come back more villainous than ever. (We see his transformation beginning when he torches the picture of his family). That combined with the fact that the October 6th finale is titled “Riverdale R.I.P.” indicates that his reign of evil might just be getting started. Sigh.

The Starkweather clan’s name is a reference to famed American serial killer Charles Starkweather. His actions were so appalling he was even name-checked in Billy Joel’s “We Didn’t Start the Fire.”

Archie doing his best Captain America impersonation by launching a trash can lid at Chad was amazing.

Where was Reggie at this episode?

Given the variety of fake products that inhabit this show’s universe, it is always strange when a real product placement (in this case, Chime) is featured.

This episode’s use of Wagner’s Flight of the Valkyries during Veronica’s confrontation with Chad was inspired, if a tad cliched.

“Another brush with death to add to your ever-growing list” says Veronica to Archie, tongue firmly planted in cheek.

Any episode in which Dr. Curdle Jr. gets multiple scenes is a quality episode.

Britta Beach (Kyra Leroux) does not originate in the Archie comics, and I wish her coming out story had a bit more time to gestate, but its understandable why it didn’t. What with a million other plots serving main characters happening.

“This religion’s got a little too fringey, even for me,” declares ex-cult member Kevin Keller.

Fangs gets his leg caught in a bear trap and is home for supper. Sepsis must not exist in Riverdale.

This was a huge week for Riverdale shippers, with Varchie, Bughead, and Tangs (or is it Fhoni?) all getting some huge couples moments.

With Kevin leaving the Church of Jason, I again fear that his character will return to seedy hookups and/or being backburnered. Again, Casey Cott and the character both deserve better.

With Cheryl now able to harness the power of Mother Earth herself, will this series finally embrace supernatural happenings in an undeniable way? Archie’s ghost helpers in the mine can be written off as a manifestation of his PTSD. But isn’t it way more interesting if they were actual spirits? Gaia knows the neighboring Greendale is a haven for the otherworldly…

The post Riverdale’s Mothmen Saga Reveals the True Monsters Among Us appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[fheythfully]

an empty hearth dawn by the sea

In which:

The Warrior of Darkness skulks around Ul'Dah, Lieal meets and Arbert who is not Arbert, and a fisherman watches the woman he loves walk away.

Click here or the read more. Part of my “do you remember loving me” series, the entirety of which can be found here.

The sun above the Kugane waters is blazing bright, coloring the ocean landscape with glowing blues and greens and rolling waves. Lieal shields her eyes with one hand, the other bracing herself against the vivid red railing of the pier’s ocean-top deck, and watches the ships come and go. Some as large as the Kuroboro Maru come to dock, others, tiny barges from ships farther out who make land and greet the workers on the pier with hearty laughs and more than one slip of the hand containing a bundle of coin. She is reminded briefly of the ships she’s watched and set sail on arriving at Melvaan’s Gate, with the Limsan waters just as blue and bountiful and calming. Even with entire oceans between them, Lieal thinks with a smile, people do not change.

She is here on behalf of the sultana, with a request to make of Hancock and the East Aldenard Trading Company – something she is rather not looking forward to doing, but the task must be done by someone and by someone the sultana had made it quite clear it could not be anyone but her – and she is hesitant to head to the Ul’Dahn building just yet. She knows that it stems from the fact that she has not had the chance to stop by her own dwellings within the actual Thanalan city as of yet, despite the fact that she had been by to see the sultana; just as she knows that the unease that had been coiled within her for the entire duration of her Ala Mhigan and Othard campaigns (apart from the obvious unease of dying, and violence and Garlemald as a whole) had nothing to do with the ongoing war against the Empire and everything to do with, well, her houseguest.

She hesitated to continue calling him a houseguest – the amount of time he spent within her apartment, both with her in it and during the days and nights she spent in NOX’s member rooms instead, respected him at least the title of roommate. Or perhaps lover was more appropriate.

The sun continues to shine; a breeze catches at her hair and to the sound of hungry seagulls, she heaves out a sigh and blows the strands dancing before her away.

A glint at the corners of her eyes catches her attention and she half turns to see a fisherman’s hook reel in back to his fishing rod. She wonders why he’s chosen here, of all places – the fish must be scarce this close to the hustle and bustle of the pier’s workers and visitors. She turns fully and leans back against the railing to watch him, eager for anything to deter her longer from making the trek to the eastern side of the city and the Ijin District, where Hancock will no doubt ply her with bitter tea and sweet cakes. Or perhaps even Tataru, eager to hear the latest gossip and ongoings from her mouth and not a linkpearl or a letter.

She doesn’t know how long she stands there, watching him, but eventually she feels her shoulders relax and the unease within her settle down. There is something soothing about the line of the man’s body and the dedication to his fishing, even though he’s caught only one fish in the entire time she’s been watching him.

Lieal’s eyes suddenly narrow. Wait, I know those shoulders and that back. She’s seen them multiple times before, both clothed and bare and she would be a horrible woman not to recognize her own lover’s body. What is Arbert doing here?

She could not imagine him making the long voyage across the sea, and having never prior been to Othard, he would not have been able to utilize the aetherytes within the country. Perhaps such travel is a boon to his status as an outsider to our world?  She catches herself musing before an unexpected anger overtakes her. He had not written to her in weeks, had not thought to give word of any progress made with Urianger on restoring him to a proper, breathing body and all of a sudden he was here, fishing?

Fishing, of all things!

Her feet take her to him in a determined stride before she can calm herself. “Arbert!” She calls out once within acceptable range, her fists clenching in the pockets of her jacket. “Pray tell me what you think you’re doing!”

The man turns at the sound of her voice, dark eyes wide in his face as he catches sight of her – and it is indeed him, she realizes, with his face tanner than she had last seen him and a new scar at the corner of his lip. What had he been doing while she was away – losing to monsters and cutthroats?

She doesn’t give him a chance to answer her and plows straight on, her usual demeanour shaken at the presence of him and the turmoil of her emotions regarding him as a whole. “I have not heard word from you nor Urianger in weeks and you think it fine to show up here in Kugane, without even notifying me?”

She is close enough to count the faint dusting of freckles on his nose now, and Arbert opens his mouth to speak—

The sun shines in her eyes; the seagulls caw in the distance; and all of a sudden all she can see is

(a figure as if against the sun, Void dark but radiant—)

nothing. 

.

.

The harping of the merchants on Sapphire Avenue Exchange, Arbert decides with a grimace, must be a sound one expects to hear in at least one of the Seven Hells.

The sun above Ul’Dah is ruthless as it beats down on the citizens below it and Arbert ducks into a shaded corner for relief alone, reaching up to wipe at his brow – an action that he has not had to do since the Before, in his Eorzea, in his Ul’Dah. His body had taken to its restored, proper state as easily as it had taken to breathing again – something that had been unexpected, but wholly not unwelcome.

It still catches him off guard, even a near week later, how much he has missed being alive. It was the little things, he’s noticed, like feeling the sun on his skin (even when it positively burned) and the cool slide of water down his throat. The taste of food and drink as a whole, and sweat on his skin, and an ache in his muscles after a lengthy fight; no more of the sensation of ice burrowed under his skin every waking moment, and even in sleep, haunted with the Void and the faces of those he left behind.

Those still remained, of course, but at least he could now find comfort in a warm hearth upon waking. And a warm body beside his to turn to, if he was so lucky.

In the darkness, Arbert’s grimace deepens. A warm body belonging to the Warrior of Light, you mean.

The absence of one certain miqo’te had been felt deeper than he had expected upon her announcement of intent, although they both knew turning down the Scions and the Eorzean Alliance was not even an option, and her decision to leave was an illusion – one he had indulged her in. The apartment in The Goblet sat empty without her presence to fill the rooms, remembered only by the fading scent on her clothes within the wardrobe and the plants now blooming in her absence. Even the copperfish within the fishtank dominating one corner of the living room seemed to appear sadder without her there to gaze upon them, drawing patterns to catch their attention with on the glass—

Arbert was, decidedly, not sulking over his lover’s absence.  Lover? He debated on what to call her. Roommate? Friend? Enemy?

Well, at least the last one had not been applicable for a lengthy period of time now.

A breeze rustles the tarps of the merchant stalls, bringing with it plenty of sand that Arbert sneezes on and even more of the dreaded afternoon heat. A merchant across the way catches his eye and waves towards his wares, a giant — and most likely fake — gemstone necklace dangling from one hand.

“Beautiful jewellery for that special lady in your life!” He calls out, leering at the passing Ul’Dahns. His yell is met with several others down the avenue in response, competitors vying for attention and profit.

Ifrit take me, Arbert groans, and prepares to head home to figure out how to compose a letter to a special lady in a manner where the phrases I miss you and I have a properly alive body now and I am eager to feel your warmth beneath my skin do not make it into the final copy.

.

.

“I am so sorry,” Lieal addresses the man before her, abashed and face flushed with embarrassment. “I truly do not know what came over me, for me to lose consciousness so. I thank you for catching me.”

The sun is bright above them with nary a cloud in the sky. The fisherman that had caught her in a faint spell offers a kind smile, one hand rubbing at the nape of his neck. “Not a problem, miss,” he offers and Lieal averts her eyes from his, a headache building behind her eyelids. What had she been so focused on beforehand, to result in such a migraine?

Hancock, she remembers with a sigh. Nanamo wants an audience with Hancock.

She thanks the fisherman again and turns to leave, hands burrowed in the depths of her jacket pockets – a handmade work of leather and a soft fur collar, brushing against her neck with each breath. She takes out one hand to smooth down the front of it and pauses, catching sight of the crescent shaped marks on her palm.

A drop of water falls upon them, stinging the red skin and reflexively she glances up for rain; the sky remains cloudless. Frowning, she reaches up to wipe at her eyes and her fingers come away wet with tears. How strange, she decides and turns a corner, only to find herself staggering against the wall there as her legs fail her and she collapses on the dirt, sobbing her heart out into the empty street. Her heart within her breast burns with a grief she has not felt since the frightening moment she saw Y’shtola’s unmoving body in the result of Zenos’ attack on Rhalgr’s Reach – since she watched Haurchefant collapse before her very eyes, smiling at her all the while.

I don’t know why I’m crying, she manages to think through the pain constricting her lungs. The tears do not stop; the street remains blissfully empty; and though it all, all she can think of is Arbert and his rare smile.

.

.

The fisherman on the dock watches the Warrior of Light leave with a bittersweet smile. Her gait remains familiar to him, unchanged in the seven years since he has last seen her up close and not in the midst of a crowd or from a safe distance. The confident set in her shoulders and the tilt of her chin, though – those were new, and had made her look all the more beautiful and so unlike the uncertain, sweet girl of sixteen summers he had once been in love with. Still in love with, he corrects himself and reaches up a hand to cover his eyes. Through his fingers, head craned back as he hides his tears, Arbert stares at the crystal-blue sky and tries not to think on her calling his name (impossible) and her mention of Urianger (did not remember him, just like all the others) before her lapse in consciousness.

It always turned out the same – her glimpse of him, the vacant look in her eyes following, and then a misdirection of attention with a magic unlike anything he has ever seen.

A cold breeze from the oceanfront tugs at his hair and clothes, and in it he feels the warm embrace of a Mother he has not heard from in years. My son, he images her croon. It is time to let go.

“Is it?” He asks back to the empty air.

There is only silence in reply.

Arbert sighs, packs up his fishing gear, and prepares to teleport away. He spares one last glance at the corner where the woman had turned, flexing his fingers that can still recall the warmth of her body as she fell into him and the soft brush of her pale hair against his skin.

I’m sorry, he thinks the words he has never had the chance to say, not since that fateful day in the Grand Palace – and he knows she will never be able to hear them.

[makikoigami]

[Fic] Final Fantasy XV - Noctis Week Day 7

Title: “Optimistic negative thing” Day 7: Free choice / Happy Birthday Rating: PG Wordcount: 4929 Spoilers: Spoilers for brotherhood Warnings: Supportive Dad Regis. Disclaimer: I own nothing and I never played the game. Still, these guys happen to occupy my mind. Not my fault Summary:  "Birthdays as a kid were great." Noctis' birthdays through the years and how he had always wished for just one thing. And the year that he got it, he almost ruined it. Promptis Notes&Comments: Written (also) for @noctisweek 2017. One afternoon. ^^;

Birthdays as a kid were great.

Everybody in the citadel wished him a happy birthday, he would get his favorite treats starting breakfast and his father, the king, would make time for him to the point where he spent most of the day with him.

Noctis loved his father, who was always kind and smiled at him, who had the warmest hugs and the scratchiest kisses thanks to his beard that tickled Noctis' soft skin whenever their cheeks rubbed against each other. He knew these days were special, because he knew that even though his father tried to do his best to see him as often as he could, sometimes he just couldn't. There was a kingdom to be ruled, the city of Insomnia to be protected and Noctis was just one person. But he missed nothing.

His fifth birthday was special. He had friends now, a tall boy called Ignis, who looked much older than the three years between them. He was bossy, but, well, Noctis guessed that came with his age and role as his advisor. Whatever that was supposed to mean. He had been three years old then and all that he cared about was playing outside in the citadel's garden with the toys he had collected over the years.

This year however, just after lunch, his father came to him and hugged him wordlessly.

"Why are you sad?" Noctis asked, trying to squirm away from that scratchy beard.

"Noct, my boy, you know that I love you more than anything on Eos?" Regis said, his voice shaking slightly.

"I know dad, you tell me every day!" Noctis replied, giggling, because that stupid beard was tickling him just too much.

"Good," Regis sighed, setting him down on his lap. "You know that I am the one making sure that no daemons or other dangerous things come into Insomnia thanks to the power of the Crystal at the heart of this Citadel, right? One day, that will be your duty, as the crown prince..."

"I know, but that's still a long time to go, right?" Noctis grinned. "You're going to be king for a long time still."

"That's right," Regis smiled, charmed by his son's youthful optimism. He ran a hand through his hair, looking like he would promise him the impossible so that he would never know a day of sadness.

Noctis smiled back at him and hugged him tight.

"Noct, what do you say about a day away from all of this? Dad will teach you how to fish," the king grinned boyishly and picked him up. A wide grin spread over Noctis' face. Everything with his father was fun and he was sure that even though Ignis seemed to be appalled by the idea, fishing sounded like fun.

Three years later, Noctis had been on his way back from a very fun trip when the convoy he was in was attacked by a vicious daemon. It had a snake tail and the body of a woman with six arms that wielded six swords that cut easily through everything. As he ended up on the ground, gravely wounded by cuts on his back, blood everywhere, all that he could think of was how he was glad that Ignis hadn't been there with him because he had been bedridden by something ridiculous like a cold.

The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was his father wielding his swords, fighting the monster.

The next time he woke up, his father was leaning over him with a worried expression. He didn't know how long he had slept, but something told him that it had been quite some time. But he was still exhausted. So he just fell asleep again a short while later.

He celebrated his next birthday with Luna in Tenebrae. Luna was fun, but he learned about the history of the Oracle - her mother - and the magic of the king. She taught him about the Starscrouge, the disease which he had caught as the daemon's blood touched his wounds. Luna's mother had done her best to heal him of that, but some of it seemed to have gotten him bad and that was why he was sleepy so often now. However, Luna was also three years older than him and a lot more dutiful than Noct thought he could ever be. Her brother Ravus was even worse and Noctis found himself missing Ignis every now and then.

However, they had these yummy pastries every day, and Noctis was happy.

That was until Niflheim attacked and annexed Tenebrae, killing Luna's mother in the process. His own dutiful part admired her for staying behind to be there for her people, but he couldn't help ask his father if she would be okay again and again on the ride home to Insomnia. He remembered how his father's face showed his frustration and anger, but also worry as he reassured Noctis again and again that she would be okay.

Somehow birthdays were less fun after that. Ignis did his best to recreate everything that he liked to eat, but kept bugging him with vegetables and greens that Noctis had no interest in. He found a friend in Gladio's little sister Iris, went to a public school in hopes that he could make a friend there. However, his classmates were more interested in his status rather than his person. There had been this heavy boy who had approached him one day with a camera in his hand, but alas, it didn't seem like they were in the same class.

His father was still celebrating his birthdays with him, but the world seemed a lot duller than it had been before the attack of that daemon.

Noctis directed his teenage tantrums at both Ignis and Gladio, both young men trying to shape them in the way they had been shaped. It was frustrating, because they were such know-it-alls and even if Gladio was open and honest with him after a good sparring round, he was still older and it frustrated Noctis that he didn't take his problems serious enough.

The only thing he had been looking for on his fourteenth birthday was to go fishing with his dad and he was more than a little delighted as they sat on their respective foldable chairs, fishing lines somewhere in the lake, listening to the sounds insects and animals made all around them. The crownsguard was there to keep them safe from any and all daemon attacks, Gladio and his father making sure that the king and his son were undisturbed and Noctis swore it was the most at peace he had felt in many years.

He told his father about school, how he had no problem at all with the topics, admitted that he was just lazy to do even better. But he was on top of his class anyway, no need to outdo himself and frustrate the others even more.

"You're very kind," Regis had laughed, making Noctis blush and almost miss the trout that had caught his lure. After he had pulled in the fish and put it into the container so that they could eat it later on, he found himself admitting that he missed only one thing in his life. Despite all the kids in his class, he had no one of his age with similar interests, no one he could call his friend.

His father smiled wistfully, turning to look out at the lake.

"Your mother was my best friend before she became my wife," Regis said, his voice growing heavy. "Losing her... broke my heart... But in return I got you and she lives on in you. You make living without her easier."

Noctis stared at his father. For all the time he had known his father, the king had never talked about his feelings for Noctis' mother and the prince had always thought that it hurt him just too much. He had learned that his mother was a beautiful woman, gentle and kind and that he had inherited most of her traits. Only his temper had been courtesy of his father, but alas, that was nothing that he couldn't keep in check.

"Dad..."

"I know I don't talk much about her... but there hasn't been a day when I haven't thought about her, when I haven't missed her. I'm sorry that you weren't allowed to meet her," Regis said, his face wearing the same expression he had worn 9 years ago, on Noctis' fifth birthday.

"It's okay... I... I don't really... I miss her, but it's... It's okay? That sounds cold, but..."

"You've never known your mother. Makes it hard to miss her as much as I miss her," Regis smiled, his features smoothing over. "Ah, I can't wait to see you fall in love. It's the most wonderful, the most painful feeling."

"Oh god, dad , please. I'm not interested in these kinds of things!"

"Are you sure? Ignis tells me some of your comics are pretty saucy," Regis teased, just to burst out laughing at Noctis' deep red face.

"That's... that's just... I-I mean... I'm supposed to look at these things, am I not?" Noctis tried to plead his case.

"I'm not judging you," Regis said. "You're young, you're a boy, you're probably bursting with hormones, so I guess I can be glad that you haven't tried to make a move on anyone yet. I would be very disappointed to learn about these things from the press."

"I... Dad, there isn't anyone I'm interested in. Even if, they wouldn't be interested in me because everybody just seems to want to know about the prince and not, well, me ."

"Mhm, that is indeed a problem... But trust me, son, eventually you will find the one who you will be head over heels for."

Noctis sighed and steered the conversation away from that sensitive topic to much safer things like math tests and history lessons. The young prince even humored his father by expressing an interest in the current politics and he learned that Lucis was in ongoing negotiations with Nifelheim and that they worked how not to let them escalate into a new war, even if Nifelheim seemed to be hiding many things from them.

It was only much later, when they were back at home that Noctis realized that his father hadn't been talking about a girl that Noctis might fall in love with. Since he hadn't really been leaning to either gender in his phantasies yet, he felt relieved that this wouldn't be a war that he had to fight. By then, he was aware that his father had been a very lucky man to be able to marry the woman that he loved and that Noctis might not be so lucky in the not so far future, but at least his father sounded supportive should he ever fall in love with whoever he fell in love.

Sleeping that night was easy.

Noctis' sixteenth birthday wasn't what he had expected the year before.

His fifteenth birthday had been the first he spent in his own apartment, a spacious place near the school he went to with a nice view on the citadel. But Noctis needed that distance to his upcoming duties and while moving during the summer break was a pain in the ass with the hot weather, he was happy where he was now. He had promised to spend most of the next months in the Citadel still, but as soon as high school started for him, he vowed to stay here and live his life before he had to live his life for the throne alone. Noctis wanted to go out, he wanted to find a friend, he wanted to find love, he wanted to live his life.

He had never said any of these things to his father. But Regis had encouraged him to live his life away from the palace, told him to live his life to the fullest in his youth. However, neither of them had expected these things to happen so quickly.

In April, on his first day of high school, he was approached by a lanky boy with a grin so wide and friendly that he was blinded for a second. Still, something had been familiar and it had taken Noctis a few seconds to realize that this was the heavy kid from back then. He learned that his name was Prompto, that he loved photography and animals, cute ones especially.

They just clicked off immediately and after a week, Noctis had invited Prompto over for the first time. After that it seemed that Prompto had just moved in with Noctis, going home sometimes, but most of the time he spent his time with his new friend, two lonely boys finding solace in each other.

Prompto's parents were hardly ever home, Noctis' apartment was closer to school anyway and if Ignis wasn't coming over, they spent most of their summer break playing video games, going out sometimes to have some fast food and for Prompto to take some photos.

Therefore, for his sixteenth birthday, he had his first proper birthday party. He had invited Ignis, Gladio and Iris along with Prompto, who had spent half the day decorating his apartment with balloons and garlands. Ignis had cooked, once more closer to the Tenebraen pastries that Noctis liked so much with his own creations. He got presents, so many of them! A letter from Luna, too, with a pair of pressed flowers, the blue ones that only grew in Tenebrae. Ignis gave him a notebook made of the finest leather, Gladio had wrapped one of his favorite romance novels and had handed it over with the words 'For your sweet sixteen... may it help you get laid, nerd.' Of course he had made sure that Iris hadn't heard that, the girl engrossed in the last final touches to her own present, a stuffed bunny with a red bow. Noctis had smiled, but he couldn't help but stare at Prompto eagerly. Over the months his friend had quickly become his best friend because for some reason, Prompto knew exactly what he liked at all times. So he was anxious to know what it was that he had always wanted for his birthday.

He wasn't even surprised when it turned out to be a large picture frame. It was cheap, but the photos inside were invaluable. They showed Noctis and his friends, smiling and happy and Noctis stared at himself, amazed that he was even capable of these expression.

Naturally, he thanked Prompto exuberantly, making this awkward for both of them until they laughed it off sheepishly.

They played games, they ate, they drank and had a lot of fun and Noctis realized that he was the happiest he had ever been. At night, after the party, they dropped Prompto off on their way to the Citadel, because Noctis had promised his father that they would go fishing together the following day.

As they sat there together, his father looking so much older than the two years that had passed since the last time they had done this, Noctis couldn't help but feel guilt tugging on his heart, because he couldn't stop thinking about how much Prompto would love this, taking pictures of this and that.

"You look happier, my son," Regis noted with a fond smile.

"Ah- I guess I am," Noctis replied, smiling wistfully down his fishing rod.

"How was your party yesterday? Did you have fun?"

"Mhm... it was great. I didn't... It was nice having a party with friends. It would have been nice if Luna had been there, too, but she sent a present with Umbra," Noctis said, feeling his cheeks heat up when he remembered how much Prompto had gushed over the intimidating looking dog. Once he learned that he and Pryna were siblings, he looked at Noctis with the most adorable surprised look and he found his heart missing a beat or two at that look.

"My son... I can see you're not quite here with your thoughts," Regis teased gently, glancing over with a knowing smile that Noctis hated as much as it made his face turn red.

"Y-yes... I... I've told you probably about him, but this... this guy at my school - Prompto - I've only known him for a few months, but he's already become my best friend and I... I don't know... didn't know what I've been missing," Noctis explained and bit his lip, glaring at the water that was suspiciously still, as if no fish wanted to disturb the conversation between father and son.

"Ah, I remember how that was. I'm glad you've found a friend, my son," Regis smiled and Noctis still hated how his smile hinted on how there were so many things that he thought but wouldn't say to his son so that he wouldn't upset him. "You've been wishing for one for the longest time."

"I... yeah," Noctis sighed, defeated. "It's... we like the same things and we finish each other's sentences sometimes and he says the dorkiest things like 'we finish each other's sandwiches' and he makes me laugh and just... He's a good guy. I want to make him happy. I want to see him smile every day," he admitted, blushing a little more.

"My boy..." Regis said, his voice thick with an emotion that Noctis couldn't quite decipher, but he thought he heard pity in it. "If you feel that way about him... don't hold back to tell him. One day it might be too late."

"...Are you talking about mom?" Noctis asked, feeling as if that was what his father was hinting at.

Regis nodded. "I've been thinking about her more often lately. Maybe it's the age," he shrugged, looking up at the blue sky with that look of melancholy that he seemed to wear more often lately. "In my experience... it's better to have loved once and lose it than to have never loved at all."

He turned to look at his son, grey eyes holding the gaze of much similar eyes. "Don't hesitate to voice your feelings, they might just be returned."

Noctis nodded, but he wondered if his father had really just encouraged him to confess to his best friend. He, they were just that, friends. There wasn't anything more! Or at least that's what Noctis thought there was, not wanting to ruin the first friendship he had ever built himself by confessing feelings like a lovesick puppy.

But maybe his father was right. If 'lovesick puppy' was a description for anyone, it was for Prompto. The touches, the looks and everything they shared did feel like a lot more than just being friends. Maybe there was more to them that they both saw.

"I'll give it a try when I feel like it," Noctis sighed, just to be saved by a rather large fish biting.

They repeated the birthday party almost two months later for Prompto's sixteenth birthday. The boy cried when he opened Noctis' present, a high-class DSLR camera, the one he had been saving money for for months now. He accused Noctis of being unfair and almost demanded that he'd give it back, but Noctis explained that he didn't care about how much the camera had cost. It was what Prompto had wanted and Noctis wanted Prompto to be happy, so the monetary worth of this camera was neglectable. Noctis stopped himself before he could say something he could regret in the company of Ignis and Gladio, but if Prompto had asked him for it, he would have given him the stars in the sky.

Maybe he was right. Maybe he should just face the fact that he felt more for his best friend than just friendship. Maybe he should just do as his father had suggested and confess.

Ignis gave Prompto a thick and heavy book about the mannerisms at the court of Lucii, and Gladio told Prompto that he would personally train him and introduce him to Cor Leonis, so that he would get some muscle on that scrawny body of his. He'd need it if he wanted to stay in the company of the crown prince longer.

Aside from all the very practical presence, Noctis could see that it mattered more to Prompto that his advisors and companions had accepted him in their inner circle and he smiled as he saw the blond wipe at his eyes more furiously.

On a whim, he asked him to stay the night. It was a Saturday after all. Ignis made them promise to use the guest bed of the couch, but as they sat and watched one of Prompto's favorite movies late at night, almost leaning against each other, they agreed wordlessly, that they would just share the bed like usual.

"Hey, Prom," Noctis said as the movie neared its climax. The heroine and her sidekick watched the lights from the castle fly and light up the sky and even Noctis, who had seen the movie many times but still couldn't feel as enthusiastic about it as Prompto, was moved by the image painted on the large screen of his TV.

"Hm?" the blond hummed, eyes glued to the screen as he hugged one of the couch cushions to his chest.

"I... I've been thinking," Noctis started, his throat suddenly dry and that didn't change, no matter how often he swallowed.

"That's a new one," Prompto said automatically, his voice a teasing tone, until he realized that Noctis wasn't in the mood for one of the jokes. "...What is it?" he asked, looking suddenly very worried and Noctis lost all will to change the status of their relationship. Things were good the way they were, he couldn't handle it if they changed for the worse.

"Hm, it's been a good day today... What do you think about going out for a photo tour tomorrow? I'll ask Ignis to drive us to that place I've told you about," he said then instead of confessing how much he wanted them to be more than friends, how he sometimes dreamed about kissing his best friend.

"Really?" Prompto's face lit up and somehow there was suddenly a herd of butterflies in Noctis' stomach. He swallowed dryly again. "Wait, you just want to go fishing!"

"What... no! I told you, it's a beautiful place and it's the perfect opportunity for you to try out your new camera!"

"And you can go fishing," Prompto smirked, making Noctis roll his eyes.

"Yeah. But that's not the point!"

"It's cool, man. I'm happy anyway. Besides you're right. I need to try out all the settings of this lady to find out how they work best. I'm game!"

"Great. Let me just... send a text to Ignis..."

"Mhm..."

Needless to say that Ignis wasn't too enthused to find them tangled in each other in Noctis' bed the following morning. Still, he said nothing as he drove them to the lake where Noctis and his father usually went to fish. Gladio teased them every now and then, but it felt more like he did it because he had to and to distract from the fact that he was still wearing the exact same clothes as the night before. If it hadn't been something very casual, Noctis might now have noticed, but he had never before seen that Chocobo shirt on Gladio. Still, he said nothing because to him it was more important to see Prompto's face light up at every new things.

Really, the beauty of the scenery wasn't completely lost on Noctis, otherwise he wouldn't have wanted to show it to Prompto, but the photographer pointed out details left and right that had Noctis look at the scene with new eyes. Prompto managed to paint a whole different picture than the one Noctis had seen so many times.

The herd of butterflies were back in his stomach and he didn't know how long he could stay friends with Prompto like this.

~*~

August 29th the following year ended up being the deadline. Prompto had fuzzed too long about wanting to making Noctis' seventeenth birthday even more awesome than his sixteenth and as he was hanging even more balloons and streamers and garlands everywhere, Noctis decided that he couldn't wait for another day. It was getting late anyway and once Prompto was done, he told him to sit down and watch that favorite movie of his again.

It was like a deja-vu, Noctis sitting on his couch, watching the heroine and her sidekick watch the lights rising from the castle with Prompto hugging the pillow to him, just like almost a year ago.

"Prom," he said, feeling much surer this time. This could have to do with the fact that the blond was pressed to his side, Noctis arm heavy on his shoulders. "Prom, I need to tell you something."

"Hm? What is it? Have you been thinking again?" Prompto teased and Noctis rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, you dork, I've been thinking about you. Many, many times. I've been dreaming about you. Like, you've been on my mind every moment, every day, every night. Not just when I'm awake, but also when I'm asleep."

"Dude, that sounds like you're, what, in love with me?" Prompto said as he sat up straight to look into Noctis' eyes.

"...What if I were?" Noctis asked, holding that gaze, no matter how much he just wanted to run away.

"...I don't know," Prompto replied after a moment, averting his gaze, but there was a blush on his cheek. "I... I don't know. I-I mean, how can I know anything if you don't know yourself?"

"Well, it's the first time I've ever felt something like this, how am I supposed to know what this is?"

"...Good point. I guess there's just one way to find out," Prompto replied, looking back up.

Yep, his cheeks were red.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, uh, kiss? The prince's kiss, you know?" Prompto joked and they both cringed at how bad it was.

"I guess it's the only way to know for sure, if that's okay with you?" Noctis asked, suddenly feeling that army of butterflies in his stomach again. His arm shook as he raised it to put his suddenly numb and cold fingers on Prompto's cheek, tilting his head so that he had a better aim. "Promise me we'll still be friends if this doesn't turn out to be more... I don't want to lose you."

"Me neither," Prompto whispered, leaning forward just enough to give Noctis the sign to proceed.

"Good," Noctis whispered as he closed the last bit of distance between the two of them.

Their first kiss was clumsy, a simple thing of lips on lips that reminded Noctis of the kisses between his father and him. However, it was entirely different the moment he heard Prompto gasp.

He pulled away then, not trusting himself with anything then.

"I fear it's true," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "I might just be in love with you. At least that's what it feels like..."

"Noct..." Prompto sighed, his eyes still closed, his lips slightly parted and wet.

"I'm s-," Noctis murmured because he just needed to kiss him again. And it didn't seem like Prompto returned his feelings.

"Me too."

"Huh?" Noctis blinked staring down into Prompto's violet blue eyes, crinkled up with a sheepish grin.

"Guess I'm in love with you, too. Stupid prince."

"Prom..."

"Happy birthday... I hope you can accept me as your present this year," Prompto grinned and Noctis glanced over his shoulder to see that the clock in the kitchen had just turned midnight.

"You know, if you say things like that, I'm gonna do more than just kiss you," Noctis said, his pupils widening as the implications of that sentence made his blood rush south.

"Oh, yeah? Tell me, I'm open to quite a few things," Prompto replied, having the audacity to smirk at him.

"Don't tempt me... didn't you want to watch this?" Noctis asked, nodding over his shoulder towards the TV.

"I know it by heart... Doesn't matter skipping the end once or twice," Prompto shrugged and gave Noctis his best puppy eyes and Astrals, Noctis was weak to those.

"Fine. Then I'll claim my present now," he said, a little dumbfounded, but so happy that he could burst before he kissed Prompto again. It was still clumsy and far from perfect, but they were getting there. The next day he told Luna about it and she congratulated him, wishing them all the luck.

On his eighteenth birthday, he took Prompto with him to the Citadel, introducing him to his father. They went fishing and Prompto took photos of the old king and his son that they framed and hung on his wall.

On his nineteenth birthday, Noctis took Prompto on a trip for just the two of them. They didn't see much of the ocean then. Instead they made their own vows and promised to stay together for the rest of their lives.

On his twentieth birthday, Noctis became king and set off to marry Luna to seal the treaty between Lucis and Nifelheim, unaware of the implications. But Prompto was by his side and he knew that Luna knew where his heart belonged already, so he wasn't scared to marry someone he didn't love, because he knew the one that he did love would be by his side forever.

Birthdays with Prompto were the best.

[seventeen-scenarios-blog]

Announcement: New Series Fic on AFF!

Hey lovelies!

Sorry for using this blog to shamelessly promote, but I really need your help in something! As some of you may know, I am also an author on Asianfanfics that goes by the username mujikmato and pen name Jae. I write mostly series fics on there and now I’m really itching to start another.

And who does it star?

yeah these idiots ^^^^^^

So I recently concluded the drama Hwarang, and even though I wish I can say that this was an amazing drama, I sadly cannot. Don’t get me wrong, it was fun! The cast was amazing and did the best with what they’ve got, the concept of it all was overall creative, and action sequences kept me on my toes all the time. I did enjoy some moments, and several episodes left me overwhelmed with emotions. This just goes to show that it had the potential of becoming an international favourite like MDBC and DOTS, but alas it had fallen victim to poor storytelling and trite love triangles. The ending had left plot holes by the dozens, and I left feeling strangely empty and incomplete despite the happy ending.

Like: WHY DID HANSUNG HAVE TO DIE?

I mean, I hope I'm not the only one who thinks that Hansung's death is completely screwed over. First of all, it was completely avoidable and it did nothing to serve the plot at all. Sure, he did have a sobby, angsty af farewell, but come on, he was hardly mentioned at all during the last two episodes. Even without Hansung dying, Sunwoo would have continued facing all these struggles with his identity as a Sacred Bone and protecting Ahro, and Sammaekjong would still be fighting for his right to the crown. Suho, Banryu and Yeowool hardly seemed agonized by their friend's death literally one episode after he was killed. The only other character that would potentially serve to honour Hansung, his half-older brother Danse, was present in the last two episodes but barely spoke a word after magically joining the ranks of the True Bone.

Come on, Show. My poor baby boy didn't get snake venom to the hands and convulse to death just to get a measely wistful sigh from Yeowool and a half-assed reiterated "Remember that you're a Hwarang" speech from We Hwa-gong. Okay granted, we don't know exactly how much time has passed since episodes 18 and 19, so there should be a reason why the other Hwarang boys seemed to have moved on considerably from Hansung's death.

Hence, this story is created!

Taking place between the time of Hansung's funeral to when Sammaekjong first revealed his identity to the Royal Council, Hwarang: The End - Hansung's Journey will follow the youth's transition to the afterlife and how he had touched the lives of his family and fellow Hwarang. If you're a fan of Hwarang: The Beginning, I sincerely hope that you'll give this series a read and support it!

Here is the link!

ANNOUNCEMENT:

Hey guys! Jae here to tell you that I have an ongoing poll for readers of this story to vote for who they want featured in the story. As this is just a short spin-off series from a drama with a plethora of colourful, interesting characters, I cannot feature every single character who's ever came into contact with Hansung. Hence, I have came up with a poll for the readers to decide who would end up in the final cut.

TL;DR: I'm only looking at about 5-6 chapters, each dedicated to a relationship between Hansung and another character. The obvious ones have already been added to my roster: Sunwoo, Danse and Yeowool. That leaves about 2 or 3 more slots open for other characters. If you want a character to be featured in the story, be sure to vote for him/her in the poll below! If I missed out a character, be sure to drop a comment and let me know!

http://doodle.com/poll/web9apyxzncwgisq