#(even though i was taught early on to not voice my pain because it was annoying to my parents)

[a-walking-fandom-reference]

it can be really frustrating being a chronically ill person and living with an ableist non-chronically ill person when they have an injury or are sick because it’s hard to have sympathy and in turn compassion for them when they never seem to have the same for you

[wooahaes]

a spark of realization

pairing: non-idol!hoshi x gn!reader

prompt: soulmate au series. 13/13

word count: 5.0k~

warnings: some food mentions. some angst. coworkers au. platonic love between soonyoung and his friends <3 some alcohol mentions (all regarding soonyoung drinking, no real mentions of reader actually drinking). mentions of static shocks throughout.

daisy’s notes: soonyoung looks at all of his friends and goes 'i love u all so much' and im like god same me when i look at my friends

summary: Unlike Jihoon and every other friend that swore they didn’t have one, Soonyoung knows he doesn’t have a soulmate. He’s tried plenty of the subtle soulmate things. He doesn’t feel anyone’s pain or emotions, he doesn’t taste anything weird, and he’s dyed his hair enough times to know that he most likely doesn’t have someone out there. Yet the static that makes his hair stand on end sometimes just causes him to think that maybe there’s something else to expect…

Kwon Soonyoung was positive about one thing in his life: he did not have a soulmate. Never showed any signs when he was ten onward, and he never would. Sure, it hurt to hear when he was ten—he was ten and stuck into this category of “without” regardless of how he felt about having a soulmate, that was sure to make anyone upset—but he’d figured things out for himself while growing up. Some people hated their soulmates. Other people loved them, sure, like… every single one of his friends now, but that was beside the point. Soonyoung had decided several things for himself. 

One: he didn’t need a soulmate to be happy and fulfilled. Plenty of people didn’t end up with their soulmates. Plenty of people didn’t have a romantic relationship with their soulmates, but stayed in touch. Some people didn’t even want their soulmates at all, either. Therefore: no one needed a soulmate to be a complete person. He was just fine on his own. (This was something his parents taught him from an early age.)

Two: Soonyoung did have soulmates, actually. Twelve of them. His twelve closest friends were his soulmates, platonically, and they’d all chosen each other in life. But if he had to pick one, then it was easily Jihoon. The two had known each other the longest now, and Soonyoung had told him one night that if neither of them had soulmates, then they were platonic soulmates. And even after Jihoon found his soulmate, Soonyoung still believed in it. The two of them just fit together in a way that was right.

“Really?” Jihoon had been half-asleep on the couch that night, tired from both work work and music work. He and Joshua had to re-record the song they’d been working on… again. Soonyoung could admire how dedicated Jihoon was to having a perfect product, though. “That’s sappy.”

Soonyoung had giggled, admittedly very much not sober. “No, no, I mean it! We’re soulmates, I think.” Another burst of giggles as he reached toward Jihoon’s hand. “I know you have one now, but…” 

Jihoon gently patted his cheek. “No, you’re right. We’re soulmates, too.” He shut his eyes, about to nod off again. “Soonyoung…” He yawned, turning onto his side. His dark eyes found Soonyoung’s a moment later, only barely open. “I don’t want to give you false hope, but… Have you ever looked into it?”

Soonyoung leaned against him. Of course he had. Hadn’t most people who did, deep down, want a soulmate? Well, maybe except Vernon. Vernon did his own thing most of the time. “I don’t wanna.”

“You don’t have to,” Jihoon said, understanding as always. “But…”

“Hm?”

“It’s hard to live in a world where I would have one and you wouldn’t.” Jihoon’s voice was heavy with sleep, and his eyelids fluttered shut again a moment later. “That’s all.”

“Why not?” Soonyoung stifled a yawn. “You’re cool. You make music. Plenty of people would love that. You can write your soulmate love songs now.” 

It earned a quiet chuckle from Jihoon. “Just…” He trailed off. “I was okay with not having one because love is… different. Like what Wonwoo says about it. It’s a choice and something you make. But you…” 

Soonyoung blinked curiously at him. He…? 

“Anyone would love you,” he mumbled, clearly beginning to doze off now. “I just don’t understand how it could be me and not you.”

Soonyoung had decided to love Jihoon extra from that point on. Jihoon’s soulmate did the same, and everyone else truly adored Jihoon, but Soonyoung understood. Jihoon never saw himself as the leading man in any situation. He wasn’t sure if that extended to believing he wasn’t anyone’s first choice (he was always Soonyoung’s, if that meant anything), but Soonyoung didn’t need to know. He just knew that he would always hype up Jihoon as much as he could. Everyone did, to be fair, but Soonyoung was happy to be a louder voice among the crowd. He would always be there to stream his songs when they were released and share them on every account he had, even if that sometimes required Seungcheol or Wonwoo helping him not break the link in the process.

But he’d never let go of that thought. How could it be me and not you? As if Jihoon deserved a soulmate less than Soonyoung did. Soonyoung had his moments of yearning, the same way that Seokmin often did, but he wouldn’t trade places with any of his friends. Their soulmates meant something to them. Soonyoung had seen the way Seungkwan doted on his soulmate day in and day out, and he’d quietly apologized to him once for the times he’d made inappropriate jokes. 

“What, those?” Seungkwan hadn’t seemed bothered in the slightest. “You were trying to make light of things so I wouldn’t worry.” He crossed his arms. “They hurt in those moments, but I can’t blame you for trying.”

How did Soonyoung get so lucky? Was this what the universe granted him in exchange for lacking a soulmate…? He wasn’t sure, but he wouldn’t trade any of his friends for a soulmate. He’d happily make do with the twelve he’d forged any day.

Okay, so maybe Soonyoung was getting in his head a little. Seokmin had just spent a  little over two weeks in a time loop because, surprise, he also had a soulmate. Which sent Soonyoung down a small spiral. According to some study out there that still needed more information to be more valid or whatever, a good portion of people who were told they didn’t have soulmates when they were ten were people who didn’t have obvious signs. Time loops, hair colors matching, lost items, sparks flying, colored footprints leading to the other person… All things that people simply wouldn’t have seen at age ten. 

So maybe Soonyoung started to dye his hair after Jihoon found his soulmate. It wasn’t abnormal, Soonyoung did like to play with his hair. It’d been a while since he’d gone bleach blonde. And maybe his soulmate didn’t care and that was why he stayed bleach blonde until his roots started to show. And maybe his soulmate didn’t care that their hair was cherry red not long after that…

And, maybe, Soonyoung was acutely aware of the date after Seokmin broke his loop. Each day followed one another as they always did, but Soonyoung swore a Tuesday felt just like a Monday once. 

And maybe, just maybe, Soonyoung lost a bracelet with his name on it. Joshua made him another one, no question, but he hadn’t found anything that didn’t belong to him (or Jihoon) in his living space. Everything was in its proper spot, just as it was supposed to be. Nothing new. 

No footprints stood out to him, and he hadn’t bumped into anyone lately that made him feel those mystical sparks that Jun once told him about. 

Kwon Soonyoung did not need a soulmate to be happy… So why did he want one so badly?

“I don’t need one,” was what he blubbered to Seungcheol one night, a week after Seokmin broke his time loop. “I don’t. I shouldn’t act like I need one to be happy because I am happy. I’ve been happy before, so—”

“It’s okay.” Seungcheol had held him as he cried. “Soonyoung, it’s normal for people to want them just as much as it’s normal for people to not. If you want a soulmate, it’s okay.” 

How was he supposed to say that now it was starting to hurt? That all twelve of the soulmates he chose in life had their own soulmates, even the ones who were convinced they didn’t? 

“Work is still bad,” Soonyoung said suddenly, still crying into Seungcheol’s shoulder. The words just seemed to dribble from his mouth now, no true thoughts behind them. “Two of the new hires took off because they found out they were soulmates and—and they wanted to get busy living life while they could. And now all of us are staying every night because we have to make up their work, and—”

He just kept babbling, sobbing as everything seemed to spill out of him. Seungcheol just held him, rubbing circles into his back to soothe him. Soon enough, all the words had dried up, and Soonyoung was just left, breathing quietly as he came back down. His head felt foggier than before. Lighter, though. 

“You’ll be okay,” Seungcheol promised him when Soonyoung finally moved away to wipe his face. “I’ll buy you dinner when you work next, okay?”

“I feel guilty,” Soonyoung said a moment later. With less thoughts to weigh him down, his feelings seemed to become more obvious. 

Seungcheol had chuckled. “You shouldn’t. I’m offering—”

“Not that.” Soonyoung let out a long sigh, tugging his sleeves down over his hands for a moment. When did he start feeling so cold? “I… I love all of you. You’re all some of my best friends. I meant it when I said I consider you all soulmates. I feel like I should be happy that we all met in this life, but…”

“We can’t fill that void,” Seungcheol said. He turned to face Soonyoung fully, arm draped over the back of the couch. “Soonyoung. I love you, but you aren’t my soulmate. There’s things I want to do with them now that I know them that I wouldn’t want to do with anyone else. I can’t call it love because I haven’t known them long enough, but… You do understand, right?”

Of course he understood. Soonyoung had dated before, after all. “I know, but—”

“None of us want you to feel left out,” he said. “If you want to date, then you should try dating again when things have calmed down.” He paused, “Or now, but I think the stress from work is getting to you too much.” Again, Seungcheol paused, mulling over his thoughts as though he needed to get them right the first time he spoke them aloud. “Soonyoung. Do you remember what you told all of us when you said we were your soulmates?”

Soonyoung had been… a little drunk that night. Most of them were. But Soonyoung had seen the videos that were taken by his friends of his drunken rambling, and he’d said a lot. “Which part?”

“The universe picked soulmates for a lot of us,” Seungcheol said, “but we still have to choose them. And you decided you would choose us.”

It was the easiest decision Soonyoung had ever made, and one that admittedly made him and a few others cry. He’d been right, though, hadn’t he? A soulmate was a person that the universe felt was perfect for you, but plenty of soulmates didn’t last. It was almost always the people who believed that just being soulmates was enough to have a lasting relationship. Soonyoung had seen people who finally reached their breaking point and ended things, always crying later because that was their soulmate. Almost always, their stories were similar to the others: they weren’t trying. It was supposed to come naturally to them. But a soulmate wasn’t a guarantee for love. All relationships, platonic or romantic or familial, needed work put into them. That was why Soonyoung knew that a soulmate represented a choice. One that the universe made for a person, but a choice that a person had to keep choosing if they wanted to make things work. That was how love worked, after all. Soonyoung had been in love before, and he had chosen that person until they couldn’t choose each other anymore. 

And he knew that it went the same for those with soulmates. Seungkwan had been with his soulmate for over a year now, and plenty of people could count the petty disagreements the two had had. They always came back together after they cooled off, talking things out like adults (sometimes with a little intervention from Chan or Vernon, but those moments were rare). Minghao and his soulmate had an actual argument not too long ago, but they’d bounced back and been stronger than before for it. Even Jeonghan, who had loved his soulmate almost his entire life, had an unfortunate spat that lasted a few days before he reached out to them and asked to reconcile. Love was a choice as much as it was a feeling. It was what brought them all back together again. A soulmate wasn’t the end-all be-all of love, but Soonyoung had realized why they all fit so well together. They all shared some sort of experience in some way, whether it be a string to connect them or losing objects. It was something to bond over, to open up the doors to choosing one another once that decision was clear. 

“Someone is going to choose you some day,” Seungcheol said, completely serious. “And they’ll be lucky if you choose them, too.” 

Soonyoung wiped at his eyes with his sleeve again, the fabric scratchy against his skin. Minghao would be chastising him now for it, pulling tissues out of his pocket or his bag depending on where he’d decided to keep them that day. That, too, was Minghao choosing to love his friend. “I love you,” he said softly. Thank you for choosing to be in my life. He wasn’t sure where he’d be without him.

Seungcheol chuckled, warm as ever. “I love you, too,” he said back, always as though it were the easiest thing in the world. Maybe, for Seungcheol, it was. 

A week later, work was a little kinder to him. His coworkers gossiped about some new hires coming into the company, and Soonyoung, truly, couldn’t care less. As long as they did their jobs and didn’t run off immediately to see the world or whatever those two were doing, he was happy. He’d given a polite nod to the new hires as they were introduced, and ignored the way the hairs on the back of his hand were standing on end. He’d charged himself with too much static upon coming in, dragging his feet as he tried to subtly push his sock back up after it had rolled down. He’d managed to discharge the static eventually, although the slight zap from the metal he touched had made him hiss in pain. It felt like a little too much, but what did he know? He had other things to worry about, like the backlog of work that still stood out to him. It’d take a few days for things to calm down for good. And, sure, the polite thing to do would be to get drinks with his coworkers… But no one was inviting anyone anywhere. Not when there was too much work during the day and everyone was exhausted by the time they all clocked out. 

“So? What do you think?” One of his coworkers had whispered to another after the new hires (a pair of people around Soonyoung’s age) had left ahead of them, having packed up quickly to catch their buses home.

Soonyoung packed up a little slower. Maybe it was wrong to listen in, but…

“Hm…” The woman hummed to herself for a moment, shifting her weight from leg to leg. “I’m not sure yet. Sungyoon seems to work hard, but the other person…” She frowned, crossing her arms as she grew still. “They’re very quiet. Like…” 

Soonyoung knew that she had just glanced at him. He’d always been the quiet one at work, the polite one who worked hard. That’s what you were like, from what he understood, too. You came in, you put yourself to work, and then politely excused yourself when you needed to run to get to your bus. Sungyoon had gone with you, not keeping it secret from anyone that the two of you were at least friends. Speaking of…

“Do you think they’re dating?” She whispered to the other. 

Soonyoung hoped you weren’t. You were… actually kinda cute? Plus he admired your work ethic a lot, even on your first day. Maybe when things calmed down, he could ask you out to coffee or something. 

“I didn’t see any marks,” the other man said, not bothering to lower his voice any further. “They could be soulmates. They clearly have a history…”

Soonyoung packed his bag and took off. He’d had enough of this. The journey home was uneventful, but Jihoon had picked up on how disgruntled Soonyoung was from the moment he walked in the door. Halfway through his vent session, Jihoon had looked at him.

“Why are you jealous? You just met them.” 

Jealous? Soonyoung was not jealous of anyone. He choked on his own words, unsure of what he could say that was actually convincing. If he denied it, then Jihoon would only believe that he was bullshitting him to try and save face. Yes, you were cute in Soonyoung’s eyes, but he’d only just met you! He’d be a weirdo if he was jealous this quickly! And you wouldn’t want anything to do with him if he was weird. 

“I’m not jealous,” Soonyoung said once he was sure he could say it casually. “I just find it weird that my coworkers care so much. They’re doing a good job.” He paused for a second, “both of them are! Sungyoon is very nice.”

Jihoon was not convinced. Nothing could convince him now, then. “Mhm.” He shrugged. “Nothing wrong with being a little jealous if they’re clearly close. Just don’t let it bother you.”

“I’m not!” Soonyoung felt his face heating up. He wasn’t. He wasn’t bothered in the slightest. It was more-so his coworkers being weird about it. It was weird to speculate, wasn’t it? If you had a soulmate, then good for you. If you didn’t, then… 

Then maybe Soonyoung had a shot.

“A soulmate?” You had looked up, the same man who’d speculated about you and Sungyoon being soulmates having shoved his nose into your business. You blinked, unsure of where this topic had even come from. “No, I don’t have one. I don’t think I do, at least. Is this a part of company business? I told H.R. after I was hired that I don’t have any signs that would prevent me from working, but I didn’t know everyone needed to know this.”

Soonyoung smiled to himself. Yeah, you tell him. It was your business anyway. 

“But what about you and Sungyoon—”

“College friends.” You smiled politely. “We live close to one another, too. I’m not seeing anyone now. Is that all?”

Sungyoon sat at his desk, watching you with this amused twinkle in his eyes. Sungyoon had the same kind of admiration for you that Soonyoung had for his friends, he was positive. He watched the way his coworker slinked off after a moment, apologizing for prying into your personal life as you returned to work. Soonyoung reached down to pull something from a desk drawer, only to feel a familiar zap the moment he did. He’d winced in pain, but it did nothing to dampen his mood. When Soonyoung relayed later the information to his friends at dinner that night, Wonwoo had watched him the entire time, all too aware of how thrilled Soonyoung seemed to be about the whole ordeal.

“Why do you seem so happy?”

Was he happy? He was, kind of. Without being disrespectful, you’d rebuffed the guy and kept most of your privacy in doing so. There were no long drawn out college stories about some adventure you and Sungyoon had while in college, no emotional moments of spilling about how you resented the fact you didn’t have a soulmate. Hell, Soonyoung had no idea how you felt about it. Were you indifferent like him? Did you have a similar situation to him, too, where you had chosen your own soulmates out of your friends?

“They were being disrespected,” Soonyoung had settled on saying. “I’m glad they handled the situation well—”

“He likes them and wants to ask them out,” Jihoon said after taking a sip of his water. “So he’s glad they’re single.”

Soonyoung shoved Jihoon slightly. “That’s not it at all!”

Jun chuckled from his seat, watching the exchange. “There’s nothing wrong with liking them, you know.” 

“There isn’t, but I don’t like them like that. I barely know them. We’ve barely even talked.” Soonyoung rolled his eyes. “How can I like someone I don’t know yet?”

Wonwoo shrugged. “I liked my soulmate before I really knew them. They seemed interesting.” 

“That’s different!” 

“Is it?” Jun shrugged. “I haven’t known my soulmate for long, but I still liked them before we started talking. They seemed nice. You can have a good opinion of someone without knowing them intimately—”

“That’s not the point,” Soonyoung said. “You’re all trying to turn this into something it’s not. I just… I dunno. When I see them, I want to know them more. It’s like they just keep pulling my attention toward them.” He paused, chopsticks in hand as he looked up. “They keep looking at me, actually. It’s kinda funny. I think they might be into me, actually.”

Suddenly, all three of his friends exchanged a look. Soonyoung furrowed his brows. “What?”

And none of them would tell him their thoughts. When he pushed further later as they were leaving the restaurant, Jihoon just waved him off. 

“You’ll figure it out.” 

“Shit!”

Soonyoung looked up at the sound of your voice, soft enough that it didn’t catch everyone’s attention. Sungyoon withheld a chuckle as you glared at him a moment later, and Soonyoung couldn’t help but keep his eyes on the pair of you. You’d wrung out your hand, reaching for your desk drawer as you started to search through it for a highlighter. Soonyoung liked the fact that you always highlighted things in pretty colors—bright green so far, but he overheard you telling another coworker, Seungmin, that you liked to switch out colors every so often. It kept things fresh, and Soonyoung found that cute. Almost as cute as the novelty erasers that you kept on your desk to decorate it, never using them since you always used pens (save for the pencil you kept exclusively for the sticky notes you attached to your computer monitor). 

“It’s not funny,” you had hissed back at him. “This place has a bad static problem… Is the air dry to you? I think dry air makes static build-up likelier.”

“It’s just you.” Sungyoon watched you curiously, glancing over to see that Soonyoung had started watching, too. 

Soonyoung watched the way he slowly reached for a pad of sticky notes, jotting something out. Then he reached forward, attaching it to the top of your monitor. You swatted his hand away, eyes flickering over to see Soonyoung just as he turned his attention back to his own work. Yet the moment he was sure you were looking away, Soonyoung glanced over to see you pulling the sticky note off the monitor. How had he avoided you this long…? Something about getting too close to you made his chest all fluttery. Had he really started crushing on you so easily? Then again, you kinda did make it easy. You were cute in your own ways, and it made it hard to focus most days. Now all he could think about was what Sungyoon had written to you. 

He’d stretched himself over Vernon’s couch that night, playing with a little feather toy that his soulmate’s cat (Nutmeg, apparently) seemed to love. She pounced at it again, and Soonyoung had, yet again, been rambling about his work adventures. 

Vernon plucked another fry from Soonyoung’s leftovers. “Dude. Kinda sounds like there’s something there.” 

“I don’t know,” Soonyoung said. “Maybe I’m being silly. I should ask them out sometime, but they’re still new. It feels weird to do it so soon.” He paused, watching as Vernon slowly began to reach for another fry. “If you’re hungry, then eat. I’m fine.” 

With permission, Vernon immediately pulled over the rest of the leftover fries. “I mean it, dude. Why wait? You like them, they seem to like you, just go for it.” 

… Maybe he would.

But probably not today. Soonyoung had woken up late which, thankfully, wasn’t too bad considering he didn’t live too far from work. Jihoon had been in the kitchen, sliding over a plate of toast when Soonyoung booked it from the room.

“You have that meeting—”

“I know!” Soonyoung grabbed two slices. He’d shove them into his mouth on the run over. “I know—I set an alarm!”

Jihoon looked up, already annoyed, “I know. It woke me up.” 

He’d make it up to him later. He yelled back a casual “love you!” to Jihoon, who only groaned in response, and booked it to the stairs. No elevator today: the complex’s elevator sucked most days, and Soonyoung always reserved it for when he was coming home rather than heading to work. He’d pulled on the wrong pair of shoes considering he had a meeting today. He needed to look nice, and he did, mostly. These were the ones that were a little too broken in, having lost traction against the office floors, and they’d lost their shine a bit. Maybe no one would notice? Hopefully no one would notice. He didn’t need anyone making a comment… or you to think less of him. Were you the kind of person who cared about that kind of thing? He hoped not. As long as you were presentable, Soonyoung wouldn’t think any differently of you. 

He burst through the front doors of the building, yelling out to where you and Sungyoon had just boarded the elevators. He saw the way the two of you looked surprised, eyes wide and brows raised as Soonyoung booked it across the lobby while no one else seemed to think much of it. It was far from the first time this had happened, to be fair: it happened back when he was new, and it kept happening every so often since. Soonyoung, unfortunately for everyone else, was the kind of person who could be loud when he needed to be. Which was good for him, because Sungyoon had taken pity on him and held the elevator doors for him. Soonyoung’s hair was standing on end now. Fuck, when did the building have such a bad problem with dry air? 

Shit, fuck, the floors were against him today. In the split few seconds he had, he’d tried to yell for you to move aside so he could crash against the elevator walls, yet his brain seemed to have turned to pudding. He felt this subtle pull forward, which he once thought was gravity as he nearly tripped over the elevator threshold and into you.

Only for sparks to fly. Literally fly. Sungyoon had crumpled to the floor in pain, howling about ‘what the fuck was that?!’ while Soonyoung only felt this warmth wash over him. You’d been shoved against the elevator wall and were clutching the back of your head (shit, fuck, he’d check on you once his brain caught up to him). Wait.

Wait. Sparks flew. 

You…?

“Dude, what the fuck?” You’d pushed him away, hand still clutching the back of your head. 

Immediately, his brain had finally started fully functioning again. “Shit!” He stepped forward, trying to get a closer look at the back of your skull. No bleeding or visible bruising, but what did he know? “Are you okay? Did you get hurt? I’m sorry, I tried to stop, but—”

“What the fuck was that?!” Sungyoon was still on the elevator floor. The doors slid shut after a moment. 

Quietly, Soonyoung hit the button for the correct floor, just to get things moving. “I… I, uh…”

You stared at him, slowly connecting the dots. “Oh.”

“Did… Did it hurt you?” Soonyoung shyly asked, only to realize he’d been vague. “The sparks.”

You shook your head. “No. But—” You looked at Sungyoon. “Sungyoon, are you okay?”

“I’ll live,” he pulled himself back up. “Of course he’s your soulmate. No wonder you two wouldn’t stop staring at each other…”

Soonyoung had felt a pull toward you, but… He always thought that was infatuation fueling that feeling. There were so many things he’d already wanted to ask you, and yet it felt… weird to say them with Sungyoon there. Were you like him? Had you given up on soulmates even though you wanted one? Or did you not care that Soonyoung was your soulmate? Would you have still liked him if he wasn’t…? He felt like he would have liked you either way, but he would never know for sure now. Then again, maybe he could be okay with not having that answer. If he got to know you better, then he could be happy. Neither of you spoke for the ride up, and he could see Sungyoon debating stopping this elevator ride early to give the two of you space.

Thankfully, he didn’t. But he did book it off the elevator once the doors opened, leaving the two of you two step off together.

“So…” You were a little quieter than normal, never quite looking at Soonyoung for too long. “We’re soulmates.”

He nodded. “Is that okay?”

That earned your attention faster than anything else. “Of course that’s okay. Why wouldn’t that be okay?” 

“I just thought that…” You didn’t seem happy. Then again, he barely knew you.

You shook your head. “Just because I’m used to not having a soulmate doesn’t mean I’m not happy it’s you. I already thought you were cute, so…”

Soonyoung shyly smiled at you, hand brushing against your own. It was enough to get you to stop and face him. “I know we have a meeting soon, but… There’s a little place across the street we could go for lunch. It’ll be my treat, if you want—”

“I’d love to,” you smiled. “I’ll look forward to it, soulmate.”

Soonyoung watched you walk ahead of him, smiling to yourself. Suddenly, he felt a new sense of confidence wash over him as he watched you go. He’d only known you for so long,  but something told him that choosing you was going to be the easiest decision he’d ever made.

(And when he told Jihoon that night, he’d called Jun and Wonwoo immediately to send him the money he’d just won for betting that Soonyoung would figure it out sooner rather than later.)

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

[yan-lorkai]

Hi! I remember that a while back, you did some yandere alphabet for Idia? If it’s alright, could you expand on the part for letter Q? The idea of thinking you successfully escaped him and the Island of Woe only to be tracked down and brought back from where ever you are hiding has my brain in a chokehold right now. Thanks!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I maybe expand a little too much, as this is somewhere between 2k and 3k lol. But I love him too much! Oh and Ortho also appears in the fic to help Idia, hopefully he's not too ooc! It took me a while to finish this, but I hope you like it darling. ⁽⁠⁽⁠ଘ⁠(⁠ ⁠ˊ⁠ᵕ⁠ˋ⁠ ⁠)⁠ଓ⁠⁾⁠⁾. Yandere alphabet anon was referring to can be read here!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, kidnapping, memory loss induced by drugs and spells.

The early hours of the morning are always the worst for Idia, sleepless nights thinking about you and if you are safe find their way into his heart and mind, the same way he used to stay awake after the incident with Ortho. It's been exactly a week and a half since you fled the Styx guarded base and he hasn't slept since.

The ticking of the clock seems to drag on longer than necessary, causing Idia to let out a long sigh as he lets the footage of you remain frozen on one of the monitors he watches so carefully. He runs one of his fingers over your face and part of him wants to feel your skin again, your characteristic smell, see your smile.

Instead, he touches the cold, inanimate glass, and feels his heart break again. It's his fault, really. It's his fault for not paying attention to you, to what you wanted, to letting you stay in your room, alone, but mainly because he taught you how to deactivate the Styx system in case of emergencies so that you could escape if something happened.

Even though time passed Idia worked every day to find you, his love wouldn't let him stop trying, he needed to protect you from the world and make sure you never left him again. If you left, then it's definitely because someone threatened you, someone definitely did something to you and he would find out who it was and what that person did, but later. He was committed and determined to find you.

He will ratify his mistake, this time he will really protect you and keep you close. This time, he will tell you "I love you" every day and night.

It's only a matter of time.

"Brother, your tea is going to be cold." Ortho's voice snaps him out of his thoughts, just a second long enough for him to take a deep breath. Ortho points to the tea that rested next to some sandwiches, both untouched.

You used to make him sandwiches too, you used to sit and listen to him. Reluctantly Idia drinks his tea even as the cold liquid rips down his stomach, the pain doesn't seem to register in his mind as he drinks until not a drop remains.

"Why?" He asks his younger brother and then turns to his computer screen. The question torments him too much. Why did you leave him? Don't you love him anymore? Did he do something wrong?

"I don't know." Is all Ortho can answer as he leans over the computer. The younger Shroud reviews security camera footage, watching your pleasant expression turn to one of despair as you run through the empty halls of STYX late at night.

He and Idia watch you leave the main building and disappear. "What are the chances of them still being here?" Idia asks him, a single drop of hope still present in his voice.

And his brother sends him a look of pity, but as the voice of reason Ortho forces himself to explain. "Very low. Styx patrols scanned every corner of the Isle of Woe and did not find them, so my calculations suggest that they may have gone back to the Land of Dawning and gone elsewhere afterwards."

Idia turns around, appearing to have an epiphany. A small smile forms on his blue lips as he looks at Ortho like he hasn't looked in recent days; it's the same look as when he's about to win a game.

It's the look of someone who realizes they have the advantage in a game. And Ortho almost feels sorry for you, almost, but you chose to run away and leave him and leave Idia without trying to tell them what was wrong. He doesn't know if he can trust you anymore, and he doesn't know how his brother can trust you anymore. The signs are all there, you weren't forced to do this. You premeditated everything. And if that's not the case, Ortho wants to hear your reasonings.

"Of course, heavens, how did I not remember that?" Idia laughs, but it's not a pleasant sound. It's painful, as if his soul is being ripped apart, as if all the joy in the world has ended. "We receive supplies every month, they must have gotten on one of the ships and from there gone to Sunshine Land, which is closer to here. It's just a few days of travel."

"Don't you think they would go to Queendom of Roses?" Ortho asks, staring at the small map that his brother opened, interested in his thought process.

Subtly the younger Shroud pushes the plate of sandwiches towards the older one, wanting his brother to taste the food after so many days hiding in his laboratory to work non-stop. Idia notices this, obviously, and despite anything tasting like sand on his tongue, he still forces himself to eat it.

His stomach complains after so many days of hunger, but the pain doesn't bother him. "They're smart, Ortho. They know that if they went there I would follow them, after all Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Trey Clover and Riddle Rosehearts live there, and they are people Yuu-shi trust a lot."

Ortho watches Idia's fingers slide across the keyboard and the numbered folders slowly appear on the computer display. IP addresses, real-time videos of the houses and neighborhoods that each of your friends lived in being displayed on the huge monitors. And Ortho almost can't contain a sigh of admiration for his brother being so knowledgeable.

"They are closest to Ace and Deuce, and these two live in areas close to each other. The cameras would have recognized Yuu the moment he saw them, if they didn't then they didn't go there." Idia concluded his trail of thoughts.

"How are you going to proceed then?”

Idea smiles. "First I will adjust our satellites, then I will go to them with my suit." He hesitates a bit, but lets out a sigh and fluffing his brother's soft hair, he asks. "Can you get me some water from the River Lethe, Ortho?”

Nodding, he does as he's told.

The older Shroud's gaze returns to the bright screens, eyes tired and watery, with a location in mind now he redirects his satellites to find you. And in a few seconds they would find something interesting, the internet today was something fascinating and it was at his disposal; people were always recording themselves, taking photos and sending messages, and Idia had access to everything.

His satellites were his eyes and ears. And soon they would see you. Soon he would have you back.

The ticking of the clock no longer bothered him. The monitor screen lit up with a location and your face appeared on a background from a video made by a kid who wanted to be famous in Magicam, it was so quick, just a thirty second but it was enough. A reverent sigh leaves his lips and he feels himself smiling, feels his chest tighten and a new wave of determination wash over him. He almost couldn't contain his excitement.

Ignoring this, Idia observed the background of the video and ran a recognition search on its database. There were few options to explore and little by little he eliminated them until there was only one likely place left where you could hide. It was a hunch, a feeling that, like the people of that country, you would take shelter in an inn in the middle of nowhere, where there was only forest everywhere.

Where surely you had thought that he wouldn't discover you.

"Brother, here it is!" Ortho brought with him water from the River Lethe in a bottle. Water capable of erasing memories and making a person reborn; just as you would forget and be reborn to be the person Idia knew you were.

"Your suit is also operating at full capacity and ready for use." He informed Idia.

For the third time that day he was smiling. He knew where you were and he would have you back soon. Idia took the bottle, watching how the water shaked and shone, part of him would hate to have to erase your memory. But this part lasted remembering that you chose this, this part wanted you to face the consequences.

"Let's go, Ortho."

......

Your days have been filled with the sensation that at any moment, you would be back in Idia's arms, subjected to his gaze as if you were a rare specimen deserving of isolation and study. It was disconcerting, terrifying. And now, small things made you anxious; a shadow behind you, the wind whispering in your ear, a nightmare in the middle of the night.

Honestly, you seemed like a zombie. Dark circles under your eyes, exhaustion draining you like a leech. But at least you were a very much alive and safe zombie. A zombie that had been doing its best to disappear without a trace, and so far, it had worked.

You avoided crowded places, some days not even leaving the small house where you were staying, afraid that Idia might find you. He shouldn't be able to find you, right? You hoped not.

You hoped that the ghosts STYX had captured had been released and attacked Idia. You hoped their system had short-circuited and everything exploded – him, the ghosts, the secret organization his family commanded.

You wanted everything to disappear. The hot sun on your head, the heavy bags of food you carried, the cicadas flying by your head. The shadows of the trees moving in the wind, the barking of dogs, and the singing of birds. Everything could vanish, and you wouldn't mind.

Today was the last day you would be here, with plans to go farther away, to do the impossible if it meant escaping Idia Shroud, once your best friend and boyfriend, who had slowly revealed his darker colors as your relationship progressed. He was untouchable, but you were not.

You had been here long enough; it was time to move. It was time to find another place to hide, another place to live, and then move again. You needed to be in constant motion; otherwise, he would find you.

A tired sigh escaped your lips as the outlines of the small cottage you were staying in began to be seen on the horizon. The small wooden roof reflecting strangely on a figure standing by the door. No, not a figure, but two.

Shiny, made of metal. Austere as if nothing in the world disturbed them.

Your heart stopped at the same second. It beat so fast that it seemed to crawl and fight against your ribcage to escape. You controlled yourself, taking a deep breath and surveying the terrain, ironically, as Idia had insisted you do before making a move.

The perimeter was clear, and there was no one hiding anywhere. If you were going to escape, now was the time. Slowly but determined, you moved away on shaky legs, holding your breath while your eyes remained fixed on the two static figures.

Mechanical arms closed around your waist, and you screamed, trembling like a kitten about to get its first shot. Due to the short stature, you deduced it was Ortho behind you, holding you so tight it seemed he wanted you to suffocate – and hey, he did, since you betrayed him and his brother but he won't act on these thoughts because his brother loves you.

You struggled, your eyes still trained on the two figures in front of you.

"Oh, that?" He laughed at your confusion. "A hologram."

You turned to look at him, trying to find a weak point you could use, controlling the apparent growing panic on your face. A solitary drop of sweat descending on your forehead.

"For someone who managed to escape us, you didn't think of the obvious, did you?" Ortho teased, his grip tightening every second as you continued to struggle and push him back. His yellow eyes gleaming with mischief as if you were just playing.

A few months ago, maybe you would have enjoyed playing with him, helping Idia test Ortho's infrared sensors by playing hide and seek, unaware that such modifications were made only to make finding you easier. But you knew now, just as you knew that the young Shroud had several new changes in his program.

And you couldn't do anything. Even the command to turn him off was different from before; Idia changed it several times and never repeated the same password.

And now you had an idea why; so that you could never use them if needed.

"You know it doesn't have to be like this," he murmured with a little laugh in his voice. "You're just going to tire yourself out."

But you didn't listen, forcing your feet to work and propelling yourself backward to throw him off. If you couldn't escape running, you would escape rolling and crawling like a wounded beast. But Ortho didn't budge an inch, genuinely intrigued by what you were attempting to do.

It was like trying to push a car uphill, alone, your arms and legs quickly growing tired. And the worst part was that all this futile effort amounted to nothing.

Descending from the sky in his STYX suit, Idia looked different. Satisfied. Still, the same tired expression that adorned your face was etched on him; you didn't sleep for fear of him finding you, and he didn't sleep for fear of losing you. His lips trembled for a second, and his eyes gleamed as if he would burst into tears.

You almost preferred him to cry. At least then, you would have the pleasure of telling him how pathetic and weak he was.

Instead, he approached you. And he was calmer than you thought possible, so calm and confident that each step felt like your death sentence had been assigned. Back to the apathy of your dark, empty, and mostly lonely room.

For someone who claimed to love you so much, Idia left you alone most of the time, so distant, unreachable.

You should never have agreed to go there in the first place; you should never have agreed to meet his parents or that organization. Never should have shown kindness to him.

"Is it not enough? Having stolen me from the only place I knew in this world, now you want to steal my freedom too?" It was a question you knew the answer to, preparing for what was to come.

Idia had other plans, choosing to open his hand to show you a small vial with a crystal-clear liquid. "Do you know what this is?"

You gave him an ironic smile. "Surprise me, Shroud genius. It's not like I'm going anywhere!"

As if to prove your point, you resisted Ortho's grip once again, but it was a futile attempt.

Idia smiled at you, the same giant and awkward smile you used to love, as if he knew something you didn't. And you really didn't know – how he was here or how he found you. Or what he held so firmly as an ace up his sleeve.

Whatever it was left a bad feeling in your chest, his hand slowly caressing your cheek as if he needed to feel that it was real. His thumb traveled from the contours of your lips to your cheek and up, holding your face with great reverence.

"Remember those Greek myths you used to tell me? Remember the water from the river Lethe?"

Of all the things you prepared to hear, that wasn't one of them. Your heart was pounding like crazy in your chest, and Idia wanted to hear one of your tales. You almost laughed in disbelief.

Still, you answered, buying time for someone to come check on you or a gap to open. "It's water that makes people forget things. What about it?"

Idia shook the vial with the fascination of a curious child, as if he expected the liquid inside the flask to erupt in bubbles or explosions. Nothing happened, but he looked at you in a peculiar way, his smile widening.

"Exhaustion has made you sluggish, Yuu-shi." He seemed to find amusement in that. Shaking the flask once more, he added, "What do you think is inside? Poison?"

Yes. Yes, you thought it was poison. Maybe he was just deceiving you, playing some mind game to make you lower your guard. Or whatever; you didn't care at that moment. You cared that you were trapped in the place with no way to escape. Finding a way out was your priority.

At your lack of reaction, Idia continued talking. Perhaps he liked being able to explain things to you, as he had done so many times in the past. His fingers focused on slowly opening the flask's lid.

"I've always found it curious how the stories from your world are distorted, strange. But there is some truth in one of them: the river Lethe exists, and its source is within STYX." Now open, the flask released an attractive and sweet smell. It smelled exactly like your favorite dessert, but there was something more.

It made your mouth water, your mind filled with thoughts, and you leaned forward, eager to taste that water. Moments ago you were struggling to not get closer to him, now you there was a great wall separating you that you needed to cross. You didn't why you were acting like this, but you needed it.

Ortho loosed his hold on you and watched as you throw yourself into his brother's arms eagerly, getting closer and closer to him, unable to resist the small spell Idia had cast on the water and that was strongly tempting you at that moment.

"Say ah, and I'll let you drink." Idia slightly pulled the flask away, watching your consciousness and will struggle with each other.

You were no match for this game. You never were, never would be. You were just a being without any magic living in another world entirely alone, a being that needed his protection. A simple spell had completely taken away your free will, how sad.

"Ah!" You intoned as he ordered, opening your mouth so you could drink from the precious liquid.

Idia brought the flask to your lips and watched as you took a sip of the water of forgetfulness. The liquid went down your throat, leaving a cool and effervescent trail behind. For a moment, nothing happened, but he didn't panic; after all, you were there in his arms. He won again.

"Did it work?" Ortho asked, curious. And Idia nodded, knowing it had worked before even seeing the result.

Your eyes, once filled with dark memories and worries, became glazed and distant as if you were no longer in control of your body. An ethereal veil seemed to envelop your mind, completely erasing all your memories.

From now on, you would only know the world Idia presented to you. There would be no more of your world, NRC, and your annoying friends. No more silly thoughts that made you feel anxiety and fear or the desire to escape. From now on, your home would be wherever Idia was.

The brothers watched with satisfaction as the transformation took place. You, without remembering who you were or what had happened, looked up to meet Idia's yellow and cunning eyes, your eyes reflecting only serene emptiness. You seemed to want to ask something, but you couldn't formulate it in words.

You observed his arms around your waist and the scenery around you. The place was beautiful and peaceful.

"Things are confusing, aren't they, Yuu-shi?" Idia held your chin, making you return your gaze to him. There was something hungry in his look that almost made you take a step back. Almost because his arms kept you in place. "I'll explain everything when we get home. For now, don't you think it's better if we rest a bit?"

As if waiting for this moment, a yawn escaped your lips, and you noticed how tired you were. Your back ached, your eyes watered, and a second later, another yawn escaped you. You nodded. A nap sounded so good right now.

Idia held your hand, guiding you to the small cottage that you had made your home during the time you were missing. After you and he had slept a little, then you would go home together.

[animentality]

Re Gortash’s parents: you ever think about the fact that in all the years since he’s been free of the hells- a couple of decades, likely- he hasn’t killed them? He hasn’t used his connections to ruin their business? Didn’t ask or let slip to Durge that no one would miss them, certainly not any children these poor cobblers might have had? I find it so interesting. For all we know, he’s had contact with them in the interim, maybe hoping against hope that they’d finally see him as worthy of love. And when they never did… well. That’s what the tadpoles were for.

I actually think that he didn't visit them until he had the tadpoles and the absolute plan.

They act as though he just showed up one day, after years of simply being gone, and tadpoled them, and that makes a lot of sense, actually.

Because consider this:

As a kid, your parents are your entire world. They shape literally everything about you, whether you become exactly like them or act out deliberately to be their total opposite.

They shape your world view and how you see men and women and relationships. They teach you how to react to pain, they teach you what pain is, and how to fix it, they teach you patience, they teach you understanding.

Or not.

So my theory is that Gortash never bothered his parents until he got the tadpoles for two reasons.

1) the pain he must've felt after being sold, and after years of being tortured by Raphael, was too great for him to bear revisiting. We know from how he talks to Karlach that he minimizes and condescends and pretends that being enslaved doesn't hurt, isn't a betrayal, isn't an awful thing.

Why do you call it awful? I was enslaved once. I didn't care.

His parents taught him early on, and it was reinforced by a devil who literally bargains with souls, that people are just bargaining chips.

They're tools, to be used and traded and discarded when they're no longer useful.

So why would he go back to his parents, even if it was to ruin their lives?

Because that would be admitting that they hurt him. That would be admitting he needed closure.

A strong man doesn't need to visit his parents and ask why they didn't want him.

And 2)

He is a fucking liar. We know he's a liar.

If he truly didn't care, he wouldn't have tadpoled his parents. He wouldn't be tormenting his mother, by forcing her to pretend that she'd never sell her son to a devil. He wouldn't have erased his father completely.

There is no reason at all to tadpole a couple of fucking cobblers.

But he's holding onto it, and like any megalomaniacal man child with parental issues, he's pushing it down and pretending he doesn't care, when it still hurts.

And that's why I don't think he visited them until he had tadpoles to use on them.

Part of him wouldn't want to re-live his past. Part of him would be terrified of being helpless again.

Of feeling powerless.

Abusive and neglectful parents often fill their children with terror.

Even as adults, abused children still remember that fear. It's settled deep within their guts, and they feel a flicker of it every time a partner raises their voice or a friend screams at them.

Gortash didn't visit his parents because he needed to feel powerful first.

He needed to know he could go back, and not become Enver, that sniveling little boy who used to cry every night in the hells for his mom and dad, who were the only reason he was ever there in the first place.

He needed to be Lord Gortash.

Chosen of Bane.

And...he needed the tadpoles.

He needed to make his parents helpless.

So that he wouldn't feel that way, ever again.

So they say empty platitudes. Truthfully, I don't know if he cares about impressing them anymore.

To me, it's more about...eliminating all traces of Enver Flymm from the world.

Letting that little boy die in the hells...

So in short, anon...no, I don't think he visited them ever.

Not until he had the means to keep them totally helpless.

I also doubt the dark urge ever knew about them, until they tadpoled them, maybe.

Because why would Enver want the dark urge to ever know that there was a time when he was not the Chosen of Bane, the mighty tyrant, the equal of the Child of Murder?

Enver wouldn't just be embarrassed. He'd despise the Dark Urge seeing him that way.

He refuses to look weak or tolerate weakness.

That includes his own.

[thebadgerclan]

Uncommon

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary: It’s extremely uncommon...

A/N: I’m done with my first semester of nursing school (I passed!), so I might be writing a little more these next 2 weeks.  I’m rereading ACOTAR, so enjoy this Azzy idea I’ve had

It was extremely uncommon, that was what you were told.  All your life, you’d been taught that when your mating bond snapped into place, your mate would be the more dominant partner, he would be the one to protect you, he would be the one to provide for you.  And the moment you met Azriel, when you felt the bond snap into place, that’s what you assumed would happen.  But that had not been the case.

Azriel knew what was expected of him: the bond would snap, and he would provide for his mate.  He would protect her, venerate her, adore her.  Having a mate was an honor, and Azriel knew how territorial males were of their mates, and part of him was excited to feel that for the person the Mother had deemed him worthy of.  But then he’d met you, and the bond had snapped, and his expectations were turned on their head.

It was extremely uncommon, they said, for the female to be the more dominant partner in a mated pair, but not unheard of.  The moment the bond snapped and you caught Azriel’s scent, the only thing you wanted to do was protect him, defend him, to scoop him up in your arms and shield him from the world.  And Azriel; all he wanted was to run to you, to bury himself in your arms and never resurface.

So you’d brought your mate back to your home in Velaris and rode out (quite literally) the frenzy, and after two weeks, both of you felt composed enough to show your faces in society.  During those two weeks, you discovered every little thing about your mate, and he about you.  You knew that even without the bond, you’d have fallen head over heels in love with this male, you adored him that much.

What you had failed to take into account, however, was that the volatility that males felt after the frenzy faded, the protectiveness they felt over their mates, would be felt by you as well.  So when you were walking along the Sidra, arm in arm with Azriel, and a female whistled at him as you passed, you exploded.

One second, you were smiling softly at your mate, enjoying the flush that rose on his cheeks; the next, you had this female pinned to the cobblestones, feral rage in your heart.  “Where do you get off whistling at my mate?” you snarled, and you delighted in the fear on her face.  But it was a farce.  The female flipped you onto your back, pulling a dagger from her belt and pressing it to your neck.

“Where do you get off assaulting a trained Valkyrie?” she growled, and you sensed the barest hint of a challenge in her voice.  Discreetly, you pulled a knife from your boot, and that was when the real carnage began.   Fists flew and steel flashed in the early afternoon sun as you fought, the primal, feral need to protect and defend your mate coursing through your veins.  When the Valkyrie landed a punch to your jaw, Azriel audibly whimpered, frozen in fear where he stood.

Eventually, you managed to pin the female, her dagger in one hand, your blade in the other, pressed to her neck.  “If you ever so much as look in my mate’s direction again, I’ll kill you where you stand.”  You tossed her knife into the river and stood, limping to where Azriel stood.  “Take us home, baby,” you said, pain leaching into your voice, and your mate obeyed, taking your arm and winnowing you home.

A few hours later found Azriel in your shared bed, watching as you limped towards him.  “Are you okay?” he asked, and you nodded, though you grimaced as you climbed beneath the covers.  “I’m just find, love, don’t worry.”  “But you’re hurt,” Azriel argued.  “You’re hurt because of me.”  “No,” you quickly refuted.  “No, Azriel.  I’m hurt because some idiotic female thought she could get away with whistling at my mate; I’m hurt because I wanted to protect you, not because of you.”

Your mate whimpered, and you opened your arms to him.  “Come here, Azriel.”  He happily nuzzled into your arms, inhaling your scent deeply, freezing when you winced.  “Sorry,” he whispered, and you hummed, carding a hand through his hair, kissing his forehead.  “Do you need me to get Madja?”  “No, baby,” you replied, stroking a hand down your mate’s wing, making him shiver.  “I just need to hold my pretty boy.”

So you did.  The next morning, though, Azriel did send for Madja to tend to your wounds, and Cassian arrived to tell you that the Valkyrie who’d started all this had been assigned to sort books beneath the House of Wind.  “I have Clotho secretly messing up the books at night,” the General said.  “Can’t let her off too easy, can I?”  Azriel nodded his thanks as his brother clapped his shoulder.  When it was just the two of you, your mate pulled you greedily into his arms, humming softly when you kissed his forehead.  “I love you, sweetheart,” you whispered, and Azriel’s wings flared.  “I love you too.”

[mandos-mind-trick]

Here’s To The Future - Part 3: Cornered

Summary: The war’s over. That should be cause for celebration, except the wrong side won. Things begin to change quickly, and it doesn’t take long for Midnight to realize something’s not right among the clone army. She should be glad the war is over, but the threat of her losing her boys is all too real. She did swear she would do everything she could to keep them from being separated when the war ended.

She’s not going to give up on that promise. Even if it kills her.

Pairing: The Bad Batch x reader (no clonecest)

Warnings: NSFW, Lots of emotions, arguing, Hunter is a little bit of a dick, some rehashing of CW pain, badly written smut

A/N: May the 4th be with you! Here's the much anticipated update. I combined Episodes 3 and 4 for this one, since I wanted to focus more on Midinght and less on following the plot of the show. Stuff still happens, but significantly less action than the previous two chapters. Lots of feelings, lots of angst.My Hunter girlies, I did promise.

Also I am still looking for a beta reader for this one, so if you’re interested…

< Previous | Next > | SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

She can feel him. 

Arms snake around her, a firm chest presses against her back. His nose presses into her hair, inhaling deeply. She can feel the thump of his heart, long fingers lacing with hers. The musky smell of him, mixed with blaster residue and plastoid. He’s warm, he’s real. 

There’s a hand on her but it’s not his. 

She’s clutching his pillow, face half buried in it. Tears are streaming, wetting the pillow. 

“Hey.” A quiet voice whispers, the hand shaking her. 

She turns on her back, blinking through the tears. She can’t see clearly, but she doesn’t need to. 

“Come on.” He motions with his head, stepping back from the bunk. 

Midnight sniffles, wiping her face. The dream had felt so real. For a moment she thought he really was here. He really had crawled into the bunk and held her like he had so many times before. It had only been a dream, though. He was still gone. He was still missing. 

Midnight crawls out of the bunk, dropping down quietly. Tech’s bunk is still empty, but Wrecker and Hunter’s are occupied. She follows Echo to the hull, watching as he kneels down, pulling a panel off the wall. 

It’s quiet for a few moments, Midnight watching him fiddle with some wiring. She shifts on her feet, unsure if she should be helping, or if he’ll ask her to. It wasn’t unusual for Tech to drag her somewhere and expect her to jump in and help him without direction. Echo was usually more straightforward. 

“Back when I was a reg, I was really close to one of my batch mates.” He starts talking, his back still to her. “Fives, we called him, because his designation number was all fives. We were assigned to the Domino Squad during our training. We wound up being the only two of the Domino Squad to survive and we were placed in the 501st.” 

Midnight sinks down onto the floor, pulling her knees to her chest. She’d heard about his early days, how he’d come to join the 501st before, but he had never mentioned anyone specific besides Captain Rex. She knew what happened to him to an extent, but he avoided talking about his time before Skako Minor in detail, unless something specific came up. She knows he’d rather move on from it, he’d rather not remember. 

“I never asked Rex when he died, or how.” He shakes his head, sitting up on his knees. “I know he’s gone because if he were still alive, he wouldn’t have given up either. He would have been right beside Rex, doing everything he could to rescue me.” He places the panel back in place, keeping his back turned to her. “I know it’s not the same. I can’t even begin to understand what it feels like. We’re taught from a young age any of us could die at any moment. That doesn't mean we don’t feel it, but we bury it because we have to keep fighting.” 

Tears burn Midnight’s eyes once more, her grip tightening around her legs as she tries hard not to cry again. “It hurts.” She sniffles. “It hurts so much.” 

“I know.” He turns to face her, a sad look in his eyes. “Hunter told us what happened, what Suu told him.  I know you want to do this alone. I don’t blame you. None of us are really good at this.” 

“I’ve always had to do it alone.” Midnight laughs, more at herself than anything else. “We’re not that different, you know. I never got to mourn anyone. My mom disappeared when I was ten years old. I couldn’t do anything but miss her sometimes because I had to take care of myself. So many friends either left or just disappeared and you never blink twice at it because that’s just the way things are. That’s just...life.” She sobs quietly, fresh tears falling. “This hurts so much worse.” 

“Because Crosshair didn’t just disappear.” Echo says, taking her hand in his. “He betrayed you. He betrayed all of us.” 

“Does it ever go away?” She whispers, clutching onto his hand tightly. 

“No.” He says. “Not entirely. You just...begin to feel it less and less often.” 

She wipes her tears, a futile action since more just keep falling. “I wish I had done something sooner.” 

“You couldn’t have known.” Echo says, pulling her to her feet. “None of us could have known. Don’t beat yourself up too much. Don’t beat the others up either. They’re trying their best.” 

Echo does have a point. It’s not just her that’s lost Crosshair. On top of everything else that’s happened, she’s not helping any. 

“Come on.” Echo takes her hand, leading her towards the door. “If you want to sleep more, you can use my bunk. I’ll be working on repairs for a while.” 

“Can I...do anything to help?” She asks. 

He shakes his head. “No offense, but I don’t think you’d be much help.” 

Midnight shrugs. “I can fit into small places.” 

“You’re not the only one that can.” Echo gives her a grin. “I’d rather have you resting.”

Right. Omega. She hadn’t spent much time with the kid. Kids aren’t really her thing. She avoided them as much as possible on Coruscant, since she knew most of them would beat her up for spare change or something to eat. She feels a little guilty for basically ignoring the kid. Maybe she should spend some time with Omega. For female solidarity or something like that. 

Midnight takes Echo’s offer, slipping into his bunk. She doesn’t sleep, instead she lays awake, staring at the top of the bunk. Echo did have a point. It wasn’t like they weren’t trying to help her. She knows Hunter was only trying to help her, offering her an option if she wanted it. 

She probably shouldn’t have gotten so upset about it. The thought of leaving them, even if it was safer for her, hadn’t even crossed her mind. She’d rather face danger head on with them than leave them behind. Even if Crosshair is gone, she can’t fathom the thought of losing the rest of them. 

She’s not sure how long she’s laid there when the privacy curtain is pulled back, Hunter leaning down with a box of rations in his hands. “Food time.” He says, holding it out to her. 

Midnight doesn’t feel hungry, but she knows she should probably eat. They were running low and safe places to stop were going to get harder and harder to find. She takes a bar, swinging her legs over the side of the bunk. “Thanks.” 

“Are you...alright?” Hunter asks, eyeing her hunched over position. 

He’s not asking if she’s wholly okay. He wants to know if she’s physically hurt. Is she okay? No. Is she injured? No. 

“Yeah.” She nods, trying to smile but she’s sure it looks more like a grimace. “Not my first firefight, remember?” 

He nods, looking down. “Right.” 

He turns, looking like he wants to move away but she stands, calling out to him. “Hunter?”

He turns to face her and she gets lost in his eyes for a moment. She had gotten used to seeing the stern face of her Sergeant recently, and had missed the softness he used to look at her with when they weren’t in a fight or running for their lives. 

“I-” 

She’s cut off as the ship violently jerks, nearly throwing her from her feet. She manages to catch herself on the edge of the bunk, keeping her feet under her. Hunter runs for the cockpit, and she follows, barely able to keep her feet as the ship continues to violently shake. 

“Getting thrown out of hyperspace. I’d say that’s pretty critical, Tech.” Hunter says, bracing himself on the back of the pilot’s seat. 

They were no longer in hyperspace, instead plummeting straight towards a moon. 

“It’s not affecting life support. We’re fine.” Tech says, like they’re not about to crash land on some moon they’ve never even heard of. 

“Are you kidding me?” Hunter asks in disbelief. 

“The power capacitor’s blown. We need to land immediately.” Echo says from the copilot’s seat. 

“Strap in!” Hunter yells, moving to the seat behind the copilot. 

Midnight takes the seat behind Tech, holding on for dear life. They plummet through the thick clouds of the moon’s atmosphere, alarms blaring from the ship. Midnight trusts Tech’s flying abilities, but while crashing? The gonk droid slides up into the cockpit, many loose items clanging around in the back as they continue to nosedive towards the surface of the moon. 

Tech pulls up on the controls, managing to flatten out the Marauder before it slams into the moon’s surface, sliding to a stop. Midnight lets out the breath she was holding, hands still clutching the seat tightly. 

Hunter rises to his feet, helping the gonk droid up before looking in the back. “Everybody all right?” He puts a hand on her shoulder and she nods, still holding onto the seat. 

Is she really okay? 

No. 

Definitely not now. 

***

Midnight stacks empty crates back in their place, working with Wrecker and Omega to put everything back where it belongs. The mess wasn’t as bad as she had thought it might be, or at least what it had sounded like. 

Despite the mess, it’s probably the cleanest the ship has been in a long time. Probably since it came off the line. 

“I suspect one of our capacitors sustained damage during our firefight with the regs.” Tech says. “We won’t be able to take off without replacing it. Inventory analysis indicates we have one spare onboard.” 

“Is it in here?” Omega asks, moving a crate. 

They all turn to look at her, Midnight’s stomach twisting painfully. They’re all quiet, all of them thinking the same thing. 

“What?” Omega asks as they continue to stare at her. 

“That’s Crosshair’s weapon kit.” Hunter explains slowly.  

Wrecker groans. “Fine. I’ll say it. I kinda miss him.” 

“He shot you, remember?” Echo says. 

“Ha! I sure do. That hurt!” Wrecker says, moving his once injured shoulder. 

“It’s worth noting the possibility that Crosshair’s actions were influenced by his inhibitor chip.” Tech says. 

“It can do that?” Echo asks. 

“That’s what it was designed to do.” Omega says. 

“So, it wasn’t Crosshair’s fault?” Wrecker asks. 

“Well,” Tech goes to start but Hunter cuts him off. 

“Look, debating this won’t fix the ship. Right now we need to find that capacitor and get off this rock.” Hunter says, walking towards the cockpit. 

Midnight stays still, thinking over Tech’s words. She knows Crosshair. As much as he was an asshole, betraying his squad? Shooting two of them? He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t betray them like that. 

Not willingly. 

***

Midnight swivels the chair back and forth, staring at the screen. She’s not really sure what she’s looking at, but it was better than looking at nothing. 

“Are you...alright?” Hunter asks, coming to stand next to her. 

“I won’t be if you keep asking me that.” She snaps, but immediately deflates. “Sorry.” She shakes her head. “Nothing ever goes our way, does it?” She scoffs. “My mom would say ‘the universe is just giving us all the bad now so it can save up all the good for later.’” 

“She sounds like she was a prolific woman.” 

Midnight snorts. “She was drunk. Drunk and desperate. I used to think maybe she found a way out, she made herself a better life somewhere. I know that’s not true. Not with the kind of people she spent time with.” 

Hunter puts a hand on her shoulder squeezing gently. It’s a comforting touch, something she hadn’t realized she was missing. 

Their moment is disturbed as Wrecker walks by, groaning in pain. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Hunter asks, turning to face him.

“I must’ve hit my head in the crash.” He groans, holding the side of his head. 

Tech and Echo reenter the ship, joining them in the hull. 

“The capacitor’s in place, but other systems are now failing.” Tech says. 

“Something’s causing damage to the exterior hull.” Echo says. 

“You wanna narrow that down?” Hunter asks, turning to them. 

The ship goes dark, whirring as the entire thing shuts down. The sound of thudding from the top of the ship is loud in the silence, all of them looking up as something makes its way across the top of the ship. 

They all rush to the cockpit as something moves across the viewport out of sight. Omega calls out, being the only one who saw it. 

“What? What is it?” Wrecker asks, Omega standing on the copilot’s seat. 

“Some kind of creature, about this big,” She holds her arms out to show how big it was. “With a long tail. It ran off with the part.”

Echo hits a couple buttons, pulling up the ship's schematic. “She’s right. The capacitor’s gone. And that was our last one.”

 “The creature is most likely an Ordo Moon Dragon. A species that feeds on raw energy.” Tech says. “It was probably drawn to the capacitor’s electric charge.” 

“Well, that would have been good to know beforehand, Tech.” Echo says. 

“You two get those other systems online.” Hunter says. “Wrecker, stay here. I’ll go after the dragon and get our part back.” 

“I’m fine. I-” Wrecker tries to argue, still groaning in pain. 

“You’re staying.” Hunter commands. 

“I’ll go with you.” Omega says excitedly. 

“No, that thing could be dangerous.” Hunter says. 

“I’m part of this squad now too, right?” 

Hunter turns to look at her, casting a glance at Tech and Echo who have also turned to look at her. Echo shrugs, knowing the final decision was up to Hunter. 

“All right, kid.” Hunter says. “Just stay close.” 

Omega puts on her oxygen mask, running happily towards the ramp. 

“What about me?” Midnight asks, noticing Hunter had skipped over her entirely. 

Hunter turns to look at her, furrowing his brow like he had forgotten her existence entirely. It hurts a little. “You stay here.” 

“But-” 

“Keep an eye on Wrecker, and help Tech if he needs it.” 

Midnight bites her tongue as Hunter exits the ship, nearly drawing blood. Of course he’d sideline her. She’s not exactly in the most stable mindset, and it could possibly be dangerous. Yet, he’s willing to take a kid with him. 

Midnight fights the urge to punch the wall. Wrecker was already hurting. They didn’t need her to be hurt too. 

***

Midnight peeks out of the bunk as Tech and Echo pass by. All of them had headed towards the back of the ship, Omega included. She climbs down from the bunk, following curiously. 

Omega is sitting up in the gunport which has been decked out and lit up. So that’s what Wrecker had been doing back there this whole time. 

“I’ve never had my own room before.” Omega says, plopping down with Lula in her arms. 

“Well, you’re a part of this squad now too.” Hunter says. 

Midnight smiles softly, leaning up against the wall. 

“That’s really sweet of you, Wrecker.” She says as the giant clone passes her. 

“Aww, it was nothing.” He says bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. “This way she has her own room and you can have yours back.”

Midnight nods, her smile faltering just a little. “Right.” She knows she’s not ready to leave Crosshair’s bunk yet. Not while it still smells like him. 

She shrieks as Wrecker lifts her off her feet suddenly, carrying her towards the bunks. “Wrecker! What are you doing?” 

“Well, I just thought since Omega has Lula now, I need something to cuddle at night.” He pauses right beside his bunk. 

“Oh, Wrecker.” Midnight shakes her head, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You sweet, sweet man.” 

Wrecker climbs into his bunk, still holding onto her. She lays across his chest, not exactly the most comfortable with his armor, but the feeling of his arms around her, the warmth of him makes up for it. She hadn’t realized how much she missed it. 

It wasn’t exactly like they’d had time for it. Between escaping Kamino and barely escaping Saleucami, and then crash landing on a deserted moon, they hadn’t really had time to do much else. And now with Omega on board, the entire dynamic had to change. 

She hadn’t exactly been in the mood for a cuddle lately either. 

Now, though, being held secure against Wrecker’s chest, being moved with every breath he takes makes her realize how much she’s missed it. How much she still yearned for their touch, even if it’s something simple. 

She drifts off to sleep easily, sleeping soundly for the first time in a while. 

***

Midnight rifles through her belongings, cataloging what she still has. It’s mostly clothes, GAR issued uniforms and the few civvies she had brought with her, the small crate of bathroom necessities, and her armor. 

She rifles to the bottom of her underwear drawer, pulling out the hinged box. The top doesn’t close all the way anymore, some of the contents threatening to spill out. 

It’s her most prized possession. 

She’s been saving credits in it since before she joined the GAR. It’s a lot, more than she’s ever seen in her entire life. Most of it came from her GAR paycheck. She had made meager credits in her job on Coruscant, the box mostly going near empty, or entirely empty a few times. Now it’s almost overflowing. 

She had started saving for her new life after the war. If she survived, she was going to buy a plot of land on some remote planet and live her life happily in a wide open space. Of course, her relationship with the boys had changed those plans a bit, but the desire to move to a remote planet hadn’t lessened. The only difference was she wouldn’t be living there alone. 

She has more than enough. She knows that. She could easily buy them enough supplies to get to some remote, deserted planet. 

She gets up, packing a few credits in a pouch before leaving her room. Hunter has changed into the clothes Cut had given him. Midnight forgets how good he looks in civvies. She glances at Echo who is dressed in...something. 

“What are you supposed to be?” She asks, looking over Echo. 

“He’s a droid!” Omega says excitedly. “It’s his disguise.” 

“Right.” She nods slowly. 

“We can’t draw too much attention to ourselves.” Hunter explains. “The less we stick out, the better.”

Midnight glances at the red bandana and skull tattoo. “Uh huh. Here,” She hands him the pouch of credits. “I want you to have this.” 

He stares down at her hand for a few moments before pushing it back. “No. You should keep that.” 

Midnight frowns. “I have a lot more than this. I want to contribute something, since you’re buying supplies for all of us.” 

“We have to figure out a way to get credits anyway.” Hunter says. “Keep yours for emergencies.” 

“Does this not qualify as an emergency?” She asks, following him as he moves towards the back of the ship. “We literally have no food.” 

“We can figure it out.” He says, opening a crate. 

“But you don’t have to!” She says, getting frustrated. “You want to do this quickly, you can skip an entire step this way! This isn’t the time for some chivalry bullshit! Have you stopped to think maybe I’m your expert in living like this? Constantly watching your back, laying low, staying hidden, that’s how I lived my entire life! You only know how to be a soldier! Guess what, you aren’t anymore! Let me help!” 

“We don’t need your help!” He snaps, slamming his hands on top of the crate. Midnight flinches, not having seen him this angry before. “Your head is not in the right place right now. You’ll be a danger to all of us. I’m not putting our lives at risk. Stay here. Fix your attitude. We’ll be back.” He turns, making his way towards the ramp. 

Midnight seethes, watching him go before she steps into her room, wishing she could slam the door. 

***

Midnight sits in the cockpit, staring out the viewport. She can hear Tech and Wrecker thumping around outside. She could go and offer to help, but she’s not sure she could do much. She’d likely just be in the way. She’s not an engineer or even a mechanic. Hell, she’s not even capable of taking care of children. Maybe Hunter is right. Maybe she is a burden. 

The comm blinks, Hunter’s voice coming through. “Wrecker, Tech, Echo. I lost Omega. Somebody attacked us.” 

“Somebody who?” Wrecker asks. 

“A woman. Highly trained. She’s after the kid.” 

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” Wrecker says. 

Midnight jumps up, heading back to her room. Maybe this is her chance to prove to Hunter she’s not a liability. That her head really is in the right place despite everything. She quickly changes into her armor, tugging it on. 

She goes to leave the ship but Tech grabs her arm, stopping her. “Where are you going?” 

“To help find Omega.” She says, trying to pull out of his grip, but he’s too strong. 

“No. You need to stay here.” He says, using his grip on her to pull her closer. 

“I’m going to help.” She says defiantly, digging in her heels. 

“Hunter’s right, you know.” He says, not loosening his grip any. “Your head is not in the right place. You’re only a risk right now, and the last thing we need is you lost in the city too.” 

Midnight knows he’s right. She has no clue where they are, much less how to help. She refuses to stand down though, hating that two of them now have told her she’s too unstable to do anything. 

Tech’s face hardens a bit. “Don’t make me tie you up.” 

***

“This is dehumanizing.” Midnight says, kicking the back of the pilot’s seat. 

“What happened to you?” Wrecker asks, sinking into the seat beside her. 

“She was intent on leaving the ship.” Tech says. “Restraints were necessary to prevent that from happening.” 

She’s not even sure where he got the rope from, or why he had it, but he had successfully tied her to a chair in the cockpit. It hadn’t been much of a fight since he was much stronger than her, and apparently was well versed in tying people up. 

“Yeah, well, it’s over now, so can you untie me?” She kicks the back of Tech’s seat once again, Omega giggling. 

Wrecker turns her seat, undoing the rope in a couple easy tugs. It hadn’t been tight, but Midnight stretches her arms anyway. 

“That woman. She has to be a bounty hunter.” Hunter says, joining them. 

“A what?” Omega asks. 

“Someone hired to retrieve targets.” Echo says. 

“And you appear to be the target.” Tech says, spinning around so they’re all facing each other. 

“Me?” Omega asks, sounding frightened at Tech’s words. 

“Hey, don’t scare the kid.” Wrecker says. 

“We have to find out who she is and who hired her.” Hunter says. 

Midnight sighs. There goes their shot at laying low on some planet. Bounty hunters always find ways of locating targets. Even the best hidden ones. “It can never be easy, can it?” 

“No.” Wrecker grumbles. “I’m starting to get hungry.” 

“You’re always hungry.” Tech says. 

“But this is worse. We don’t even have any food!” 

****

Midnight isn’t exactly thrilled to be sitting in a closet. She’s seated on a crate, leaning back against the far wall. She’s been here for probably two minutes, but it feels like a lifetime. She had so much more she could be doing, like sleeping or flipping through the computer, or crying. 

She looks up as the door opens, Hunter standing in the doorway. From where she’s sitting he looks like an imposing figure, his broad shoulders taking up the entire doorway. His brow furrows as he looks down at her, turning to look back over his shoulder. 

“I thought you said-” 

He’s cut off as something hits him from behind, forcing him into the closet. Midnight barely has time to move as he hits the wall behind her, catching himself. Before he can recover, the door slides shut, closing them both inside. 

Hunter hits the button to open it, but the door stays shut. “Tech!” He yells, banging on the door. “Open this door.” 

“Sorry, Hunter.” Tech’s voice sounds from the other side. “It seems to be jammed.” 

“Tech,” Hunter says, a warning in his voice. 

“It’s for your own good.” Echo’s voice sounds. “You both need to talk.” 

“Tech you liar!” Midnight yells, slipping under Hunter’s arm so she’s closer to the door. 

“My apologies,” Tech says, not sounding sorry at all. “It’s the best way to ensure the two of you talk through your problems.” 

“I’m gonna kill you.” Midnight threatens. 

“Worry about that later.” Tech says, before leaving them alone. 

Midnight moves back to the crate she was sitting on, plopping back down. 

“I take it you didn’t know about this?” Hunter says, leaning against the wall next to the door. The closet is small enough she could touch his feet with hers if she stretched them out. 

Midnight shakes her head. “Tech said he needed my help in here. I thought maybe this would have a more satisfying ending.” She leans back against the wall, crossing her arms. 

“He told me he needed me to take a look at something. I should have known something was up.” Hunter shakes his head, crossing his arms. 

Midnight chews her lip, tucking her legs closer. “They are right. We can’t keep fighting each other.” 

“It’s too dangerous for all of us.” Hunter moves to sit on the crate next to her. “I know this hasn’t been easy on you, and I haven’t been easy on you either. Cut was right. Omega’s not a soldier, and neither are you.” 

Midnight looks up at him, turning slightly to face him. “I never really was.” 

He smiles just a little. “You’re good at playing one. Sometimes I forget.” 

“I can’t blame you.” She leans her head against the wall. “I am the first nat-born you’ve had extended contact with. I’ve been your first for a lot of things.” 

“It’s...an adjustment.” Hunter says. “This wasn’t how I thought things would go.” 

“You’re not alone in that.” Midnight says. She looks away from him, curling up in the corner. “I feel like I failed.” 

Hunter shifts so he’s more comfortable on the crate. “I know following orders isn’t really our thing, but I think this is one time we should.” He leans up against the wall. “Talk to me.” 

So she does. 

She tells him everything. How she knew something was wrong with Crosshair, but she hadn’t done enough to try and fix it. She tells him about her conversation with Tarkin, how he’d blackmailed her using them. She tells him about Crosshair’s betrayal. She tells him how she’d signed the contract, not knowing what else to do. She tells him her plan to break them out, about how she feels like a failure. 

She tells him about her panic, about how she can’t stop the overwhelming feelings every time she has to fight. She tells him how she feels like she’s falling apart. 

She’s crying by the end of it. She’s so tired of crying, but she can’t stop. Hunter’s arms wrapping around her only make it worse, the floods of tears quickly soaking a wet spot on his shirt. Hunter rests his chin on top of her head, letting her cry. 

“I don’t want you to treat me differently.” She says, voice slightly muffled by his chest. “I’m still me. I’m still Midnight.” 

“I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. It’s been hard, with everything going on. With Omega too...things can’t be exactly like they used to be.” 

“I know.” She sniffles. “But they don’t have to change that much. We can adjust. It’s what we do, right?” 

He kisses the top of her head softly. “I guess so. We’ve...got a lot to learn. You are right, though. We don’t know how to be civilians, or how to operate in that world in the way we need to.” 

“That’s why you have me.” She says. “Luckily, I’m pretty good at that.” 

“I think Omega could benefit from some lessons too.” 

Midnight snorts. “Girl needs some life lessons.” 

Hunter pulls away slightly to look down at her. “You are the expert.” 

Midnight shakes her head. “No, no. I am not good with children.” 

“I think you’re doing just fine.” He smiles at her. 

“I’ve spent like five minutes with her. That’s not nearly enough time to figure that out.” 

“Maybe you should make an effort.” He says, shifting her slightly in his arms. “She is part of this squad now.” 

Midnight crinkles her nose. “I don’t even know how to approach her.” 

Hunter laughs. “She’s not a Loth-wolf, she’s a kid. You just walk up and start talking.” 

Midnight stares at him. “Since when are you an expert on children?” 

Hunter shrugs. “Just speaking from experience.” 

Midnight shifts so she’s sitting between his legs, her back to his chest. He wraps his arms around her, her fingers trailing down his arms to his hands. “How long do you think, until they unlock the door?” 

Hunter shrugs. “Not sure. I don’t think they’ll believe us if we tell them we’re done.” 

Midnight hums, tracing his knuckles. “Probably not.” 

They fall quiet for a few moments, Midnight enjoying the feel of him wrapped around her. She really had missed them, all of them. She knows part of the problem is the pent up energy between them. Normally they could just slip into a bunk and relieve it, but now with a child on board, that wasn’t exactly possible. 

“How long has it been?” She asks, tilting her head as he nuzzles against her neck. 

“A month?” He asks, lips brushing against her skin. 

“Yeah, after Esus when you took down that Octuptarra.” She says. “I was ready to get on my knees right then and there.” She can feel his smirk against her neck. 

“You enjoyed that, huh?” His teeth graze her neck, making her shiver. 

“Immensely.” She gasps, hands falling to grip his thighs as he slips a hand down her stomach. 

He hums in her ear, gripping one of her thighs to pull it to the side. “You know I love watching you use your knife.” He trails his fingers down her thigh, her other one falling open in anticipation. “Easily one of the most attractive things I’ve ever seen.” 

Midnight smirks. “What about that time I-” 

Hunter groans, his hand closing around her thigh. “That might be the most attractive thing you’ve ever done.” 

Midnight laughs, leaning her head back against his shoulder. “It wouldn’t be hard to replicate.” 

“Not in here.” He says, kissing the back of her neck. “Once we get a chance to settle down.�� 

“Is that a promise?” She asks, tilting her head to look at him. 

“It’s a promise.” He says, finally letting his hand reach the junction of her thighs. 

She’s already damp, quickly soaking through her underwear. She’s so ready for him, so ready to feel something other than the agony and anger that had been burning through her for the last few days. 

He cups her through her pants, slowly dragging his hand with enough pressure she can feel it against her clit. She relaxes back against him, letting him take over. They both need this, need to release the pressure between them. 

He takes his time, knowing Tech wouldn’t unlock the door anytime soon. He wants to make the most of this moment. It’s not likely they’ll get a chance like this again, at least for a while. 

“You look really good in civvies.” She murmurs, rocking her hips against his hand. 

“Not nearly as good as you.” He laughs, slipping his hand into her pants. He wants to feel her, get lost in the warmth of her. 

“Maybe someday we can hang the armor up for good.” She says, clutching onto his arms as he runs his fingers along her slit. “Maybe someday we can finally relax.”

He slips a finger into her, sliding in easily as her body welcomes him. She moans quietly, quickly biting her lip. They have to be quiet now. The last thing they want is any awkward questions. 

“Kriff.” She breathes, rocking her hips in time with his hand as he thrusts his finger in and out of her. “I missed this.” 

“Me too.” He murmurs against her shoulder. “Missed your sweet pussy.” 

Midnight gasps, clenching around his finger at his words. “Hunter?” She gasps, gripping his wrist. “I need you inside me.” 

“Is that an order?” He smirks. 

“I can make it one.” She says breathlessly. 

Hunter releases her, letting her shimmy out of her pants. He undoes his pants, slipping his cock out. He pumps it a few times, already half hard from the scent of her arousal alone. She sits herself in his lap, his calloused hands dragging up her thighs. She takes over for him, wrapping her hand around his thick length. He groans quietly at her touch, watching her face as she pumps him. 

She shifts her hips over him, sinking down onto him. She’s tight around him, gripping him like a vice. He can feel every inch of her, every essence of her being as she sinks down fully on his length. His hands grip her hips, feeling the softness of her, the warmth of her pressed against him. 

He wraps his arms around her, stilling her for a moment. They’re still clothed, but he can feel her. The scent of her arousal is thick in the enclosed space. He can hear the quick thump of her heart in her chest. He loves the sound, finding himself seeking it out when he feels stressed or worried. 

The worst thing he can imagine is that sound disappearing. 

“Hunter.” She breathes, pressing her forehead to his. 

“I’ve got you, mesh’la.” He says, wrapping his arms around her waist. 

She begins to move, rocking her hips against his. It’s fast and a bit sloppy, both of them wanting to make the most of the time they have. 

Hunter presses his lips to hers to keep her quiet, his hands sliding down to cup her ass. He helps her move, feeling how close she is by the way she’s squeezing around him. She whimpers against his lips as her clit brushes against his pelvis, fingers tangling in his hair. 

She cums quickly, and so does he, spilling into her. He holds her close, letting her collapse against him. He feels guilty for how he had been treating her. They all were struggling with Crosshair’s betrayal, but she had felt it the most. He could practically feel her anguish and he had gone and said all the wrong things, done all the wrong things. He could have lost her, so many times. He could lose any of them, Crosshair was proof of that. 

The thought of losing Midnight hurts the most. 

“Love you.” She whispers, clinging to him. 

“I love you too.” He says, without hesitation. 

There’s movement outside the door. A small shuffle, the familiar hum of electricity then a click. Hunter watches as the button to open the door lights back up.

Taglist:

@amyroswell, @dangraccoon, @hunnythebee​, @lokigirlszendaya, @kriffingmeshla, @storm-breaker7  

[softguarnere]

Hiya bestie!! So this is totally just a Thought ™️ but whenever you get a chance, could you please write a "Wait For Me" from Hadestown-type vibe where the only thoughts that keep Lieb going during the hell that is Bastogne are thoughts of the girl he left behind and thoughts about their talks during better times or letters maybe, about how he'll find his way back to her no matter what because she's his bashert (Yiddish for his destiny, fated one/soulmate)!

Idk, we just need more Yiddish-speaking Joe in the world 🤭

Thank you so much in advance!! 💖

A/N: Aly my dear, I have been obsessed with this idea since we talked about it way back last month. I'm so sorry about the wait (school and life have both been crazy), and thank you so much for your patience! 🫶🏼 You are absolutely right: this fandom needs more Yiddish speaking Joe! Let this man connect with his roots!!!! 👏🏼 I'm sorry it's short, but I hope you like it bestie 💖

(This is written for the fictional depiction from the show - no disrespect to the real life veterans!) 💕🕊️

Warnings: mentions of war, some religious imagery/ideas

Miracle of Miracles

Joe Liebgott x reader

Actions speak louder than words, his father had taught him from a young age. And that lesson wasn't all talk, either - Joe had seen his dad surprise his mom with enough flowers, help her carry groceries unasked, and surprise her by making dinner for their family enough times to see the I love yous displayed in every little move.

And that's just fine with him; he's never been too good with his words, so he's all about action.

Yet with all the distance between the two of you, it's now words that speak to Joe. Your words, from your letters. The letters that he keeps in his pocket at all times. The letters that he reads every night to feel closer to you.

You - the only thought that keeps him going in this place.

He keeps telling himself that if things would calm down for just a second, then he would be able to put his pen to the page and write you back.

Except this early night, for once, is quiet after the nightmarish events of the day. He's hunkered down in his foxhole, leaning against the hardness of the packed earth behind him, trying to find some semblance of warmth, and he can't figure out what to say.

Plenty of thoughts swirl around his head. Awful, horrifying thoughts of the things that he's seen since coming to this frozen hell. Terrible memories of trees exploding and his fellow soldiers sliding into foxholes as screams of terror and pain ring out across the landscape.

Okay, so there are thoughts, but they're definitely not the type that he should be sharing with you.

Part of him wishes that you were there. To hold, to talk to. It's actually better that you're not stuck in a place like Bastogne with him, though. You're the antithesis of the forest he's found himself in - he doesn't even want to imagine the sunlight and warmth that emanate from your soul being snuffed out in the dark gloom of the foxholes.

He has your letters. Enough heat is carried in your words to see him through.

See him through. That's his favorite thought: the idea that holding onto memories of you will get him through this whole thing in one piece - God walking Daniel through the lion's den. Because if he can just survive Bastogne, he's pretty sure the promise of seeing you again will drive him through the rest of the war, like some sort of miracle. Whenever he reads your words he can practically hear your voice and see your smile already.

Dear Liebling, all your letters begin. And all end with, I'm still here - waiting for you.

For him. A wonder. A miracle. How did he get so lucky? From the first time your eyes met, he felt like something in his soul recognized something in yours. It felt like it was meant to be; fated since the beginning of time, like he would find you in this or any other lifetime - his bashert . . . his soulmate.

And he's coming back to you if it's the last thing he ever does.

It's been so long since he's seen you. So long since he's been able to properly write to you. If he were back home, he would have surprised you with a bouquet of flowers tonight, and tomorrow he would be making you breakfast - I love you I love you I love you punctuating every movement, every glance, every smile.

But your not here and he's not there. That means there's only one way for him to show you all the love he carries just for you.

Shivering, he pulls out a piece of spare paper and unfolds it, propping it against his knee as he squints to see it through the growing darkness. He blows on his hands and rubs them together to warm them up while he thinks.

Finally, he puts his pen to the paper and just does it - which is arguably what he's always done best. After all, you're his fated one, his destiny. Your soul is like a reflection of his. If anyone will understand what he's trying to say, it will be you.

Dear (Y/N), he begins. Have I ever told you that I've loved you since before the beginning of time?

[francenemolove]

Title: Need You

Sypnosis:

Stirring on her bed. Y/N woke up, still groggy from her slumber. Looking all over her room, her eyes met with a confusing yet not shocking scene.

“ Enjoying yourself baby? “ she moaned.

Hearing the voice of the woman he’s been dreaming about snap him back to reality. Trying to get himself off of her he stammered.

“ I – I didn-“ words doesn’t come out of Jungkook’s mouth. Flustered that he was caught.

“ cat got your tongue baby? “ she smirked.

Warnings/Tags: Soft Yandere Jungkook and Soft Yandere Y/N, stalking, Dom reader and sub koo, male and female masturbation, nonconsensual, raw sex ( always use protection ), creampie, riding, titty sucking, blowjob, mommy kink, Babyboy, simp Jungkook, soft and cuddly aftercare.

 Low grunts coming from his mouth while he’s jerking himself off in the empty bathroom stalls of the company. Jungkook was so aroused ever since Y/N smiled and thank him for fixing the issue on her computer earlier this morning. The issue was not that difficult, Jungkook said that

“ all you need to do is to restart your computer and alls well “ and yet Y/N blushed and claimed that she wasn’t tech savvy and that the only things that she can do in a computer is to compose documents and a simple power point presentation. She giggled and hearing that made Jungkook want to kiss her breathless. She’s so cute.

Nearing his release, he imagined Y/N. What her body will look like under him. What her sounds will be like moaning his name, and how her face will be when she reaches her climax. The last thing made Jungkook spill all of his essence on the toilet bowl. Calming down he took out some tissues and wipe himself. He tucked his flaccid cock in his boxers and sighed, he has to go back to work.

 The first time Jungkook saw her was when he was on his way to work. Everything wasn’t going the way he planned. He was supposed to sleep early, wake up early, go for a quick run before having his banana milk showering and preparing to go to his ever first job after graduating from Uni. And yet things went south when he couldn’t get any sleep because of feeling excited and nervous at the same time. That lead him to now, frantic and racing people in the lobby to go and meet the senior that will show him around the company. Despite reaching the elevators on time, he didn’t get in since it was already full. Frustrated, he was thinking about using the flight of stairs when

“ hey, are you okay? Your sweating buckets. “ Y/N queried.

“ I-I was late so I came running, Im supposed to meet Y/L/N Y/N they’re going to show me around and give me a rundown on what Im going to do. I-I it’s my first day today and Im afraid Im going to piss off a senior “ Jungkook stammered.

“ well I don’t think so … Y/N smiled “ because Im the one your supposed to meet and I just came in too! “ she giggled “ nice to meet you! Jeon Jungkook right? She asked while offering him a handshake.

“ oh! Yes that’s him, I-I mean that’s me “ Jungkook wanted to cry, other than he looks like he joined a marathon with how sweaty he was, his stuttering in front of his hot as fuck senior.

Despite the boy looked like a kicked puppy because of his situation Y/N can’t help to check the young man out. He looks so hot, with his ear piercing and taught muscles that’s trying to get out of his polo shirt but even though the man looks like he can rail Y/N till tomorrow he looks soft, someone you can cuddle and take care of.

Jungkook reached out and shook her hand, he was trying not to cringe when his sweaty palm touched hers, he wanted to just retrieve his hand but she reached out quick enough before Jungkook and held his hand tightly not borderline painful but it just felt sure and sincere that the woman in front of him was really genuine. When Jungkook looked down he nearly cooed when he saw the difference between their hands. Hers were so small and soft.

After shaking hands. Y/N gestured to follow her with a smile on her face.

Jungkook new then that he was fucked.

 His following me again. He thought his very subtle with the way his been following her around for nearly a year now ever since the day they met. Y/N knew that Jungkook have been stalking her, and yet she didn’t feel any amount of fear, she actually indulges in it. It made her feel like she’s so special when she’s walking home late at night from the office. She always have to pass by this street that’s filled with drunkards. Jungkook have been stalking her for quite sometime and yet he never tried to approach her. He was content to just watch her via far but that night it was different.

It was a usual night for Y/N she was on her way home when a drunk man started asking for her name, she just try to ignore what the man was saying because it’s much safer that way. Just let that drunk asshole talk it’s not worth your effort and time she thought. But she was surprised when the same asshole yanked her.

“ What the f-! Get of off me! “ she yelled. The more she struggled the more aroused the drunkard was. “ hmm I like bitches like you, you know when to put on a fight. He smirked. “ I’ve been calling your attention whore and yet you kept ignoring me might as well claim you then “

Where is that stalker when you need him she thought. Just when the man was going to yank her hair a loud crack was heard. Things happened so fast, the drunk man was on the floor wailing in pain. His nose was bleeding, and it look like it was broken. When she looked up she saw the figure of the man that helped her walking away.

“ hey! Wait! W-where? “ she uttered.

Coming to her senses she ran as fast as she can to flee from the place. Damn it, she just wanted to go home and rest.

 Jungkook was livid. The moment he saw the smug motherfucker he knew he’s going to step in to protect her. He gave him the benefit of a doubt that he will just do some catcalling and be pissed off drunk and not expect him to go and grab her that harsh. Despite how far Jungkook was he sped up to hit the man. He can’t touch her, he can’t sniff her. He’s hers. So how dare this asshole touch what’s his. Everything was a blur, all Jungkook saw was the man’s broken nose. He knew he have to face her and at least try to comfort her but he froze he didn’t want her to know that it was him, the new I.T guy in the company is her savior. He wanted to do so much for her not just this. He also doesn’t know what to tell her when she asks some question like …

“where did you come from? How did you get here? Have you been following me? “

Or the worst for her to condemn him for being creepy and stalking her. He can’t.

So when he saw that the man can’t get up because of the pain, he turned around and walked briskly away from her not even looking back even though she was trying to talk to her.

“ I-im so sorry Noona “ he mumbled.

  After that encounter every normal person should be weirded out from that situation but Y/N felt so pleased that the quiet boy in their company had come to her rescue.

As days turns to weeks to months and to nearly a year, the same routine continues. She’s so tired of him just following her around at night when she goes home and being all blushy and freaking cute in the morning when she sees him. It’s so exhausting, and yet she knew all about it but didn’t make a move either. She also liked the idea of tormenting the boy most specially when Jungkook just didn’t settle on following her home but also stays for a couple of minutes to a couple of hours. Y/N was quite uncomfortable the first nights she knew he was watching but after that she got used to it. She even started watching porn when she knew that he was watching. She wanted him to know that she needs someone, but alas he just stayed hidden from her view. What she didn’t know was Jungkook touch himself whenever he sees her noona touch herself. He’s been imagining her all the time. He even snuck in her house without her knowing and stole one of her used underwear. He told himself that he’s going to use it back when he’s home but he’s so hard that he ended up jerking himself of in her bedroom using her underwear as he glides in his thick, hard member. Within minutes he came all over her underwear, so satisfied that he has a bit of her essence around him. When the door on her bathroom jiggled it made him panic and instead of bringing her underwear home he shoved it in her hamper and scampered off out her window.

 This morning Y/N woke up determined to finally confront Jungkook. It’s getting frustrating just waiting for this boy to just claim her as his, so when he’s not going to make a move then I will she declared.

The moment she walked in her office with two coffees on her hand, she had a smile on her face. Y/N was positive that she’s going to take Jungkook home and have her way on him when she stopped and her smile turned to a frown.

“ thanks so much Jungkookie! You’re such a life saver! I don’t know what I would do without you! Jennie mused while batting her lashes. Jungkook blushed and scratched the back of his neck, “ no worries, Jennie-shi but I need to get to my office there are things I have to start- he apologized wanting to get rid of her since he really missed his Y/N noona.

“ oh, I understand but I was thinking if you’re not busy then maybe you and I can- Y/N left the place. She was fuming, how dare he be this cute and hot towards Jennie when all he did was nod and show her his big doe eyes whenever she says sweet shit towards him, she grumbled walking away. Nearing a trash can, she threw the coffee she bought for Jungkook since she thought that he will not be needing it anymore since Jungkook got his Jennie now. She decided then to abandon her plan of confronting him.

“ G-good morning Noona! H-how was your weekend? Jungkook queried. She’s so beautiful, he love what she have done to her hair today but ah wait? Why is his Noona ignoring her?

Y/N stood up and left her office chair and went straight to the opposite exit of the office without even giving Jungkook a glance back. He was confused and heartbroken, maybe Noona didn’t hear me? Yeah maybe that’s why. I tend to speak softly that’s why people always ask me to repeat what I am saying he muttered trying to comfort himself. Behind him Taehyung his senior and friend smack the back of his head and said “ Yah! What are you doing talking to yourself alone again? From this rate people will really think you’re a weirdo” “Hyung! You didn’t have to hit me that hard, and I don’t give a fuck if people thinks im weird he said “ I only want, I mean need one person to love me anyway he mumbled. “ there you are again! Come on they need someone to check some computers in the accounting department you have to go now.” Listening to his hyung he headed to the place and kept telling himself that his Noona just didn’t hear him.

 A week passed by and Jungkook wanted to cry and rip his hair off. He did something that’s why his Noona is ignoring him. But what did he do? No matter how hard he tried to approach her and strike up some conversation, all he hears is silence. It’s been a week that he’s making a fool out of himself and the worse thing was his Noona’s windows are closed and her curtains are shut so even if he wants to see her wet cunt whenever she masturbates from the porn videos she’s been watching he doesn’t have any access anymore. Why is his Noona being like this, can’t she see that he’s broken already. He can’t take one more day of this. He needs to let her know how much his inlove with her and if he needs to take her while she’s sleeping then so be it he said determinedly.

It’s been a torturing week to not talk and smile at her Jungkook, but she was just so hurt and jealous. It didn’t help her overactive mind too when that day she saw him with Jennie she didn’t feel and caught a glimpse of Jungkook following her. That’s why she thought that maybe yeah, they went on a date and Jennie got the best dicking of her life. Ooh, it made her blood boil but alas she can’t do anything when Jungkook was just being protective towards her as a sweet dongsaeng instead of an overprotective lover. Well, she actually saw the effort that Jungkook made when she was ignoring him, she even tried to look up when Jungkook was talking to her and handing her coffee. She saw the crestfallen look that Jungkook have when she didn’t take the things that Jungkook was giving and it took so much from her not to just hug and smother him with kisses but her pride was a lot bigger than her affection.

Finishing her dinner, she went back to bed. This week she wasn’t up to watching and touching herself. So so exhausted with pretending to ignore Jungkook she went to bed right away.

He went inside using the spare key he have asked to be made and went straight to her bedroom. The sight that greet him made him choke on his own spit and made his cock so hard. This is the first time ever that he have seen his Noona sleep on her back with her legs wide open. From Jungkook’s angle on the door way he can see that she’s wearing a thin t-shirt triple her size, her stiff nipples erect seen through her shirt and her lacy underwear can’t even conceal her wet pussy. She’s squirming on her bed, her thighs rubbing against each other. She even let out a small moan. Jungkook new she was having a wet dream, and it drove him mad thinking about who his Noona was dreaming about for her to get this aroused.

Approaching the bed Jungkook took of his black polo shirt together with his black slacks and boxers. His cock slap his abdomen the moment he released it. Precum pooling on his slit, he’s so hard, his Noona’s so sexy and his so horny. He gently climbed his Noona’s bed and settled himself infront of her thighs, he’s tempted to just rip her panties and stuff his cock inside of her but he will do that next time. He just wanted a taste of her since it’s been a week that he’s been deprived of her. He gave tiny licks on her clothed center and groaned when he can smell and taste her sweet juices. He can’t help it! He wanted more so he slowly rose from his position between her things and laid himself gently on top of her, with his unclothed cock aligned to her clothed cunt. He looked at her face so beautiful so angelic, he can cry at the moment. He can’t believe that his this close to his Noona after a week of being unreachable. When he deemed that his Noona is still deep in her slumber he gently thrusted his hard cock on her cunt. The feeling made Jungkook want to groan, but he bit his lip trying to contain the sounds that he wants to make because of the pleasure he is experiencing. His feeling so good with the little thrust he’s doing, he fell so deep in the sensation that his slow and subtle thrusts became harder and faster. He also forgot that he need to keep his noises down as not to wake her Noona up but he can’t help it. Before he was just thinking no dreaming about this but now he is in person experiencing it. Stirring on her bed. Y/N woke up, still groggy from her slumber. Looking all over her room, her eyes met with a confusing yet not shocking scene.

“ Enjoying yourself baby? “ she moaned.

Hearing the voice of the woman he’s been dreaming about snap him back to reality. Trying to get himself off of her he stammered.

“ I – I didn-“ words doesn’t come out of Jungkook’s mouth. Flustered that he was caught.

“ cat got your tongue baby? “ she smirked.

Jungkook tried to get off of her but instead she locked her legs behind him forcing him to lay on top of her. Jungkook let out a squeak, he’s so embarrassed but still turned on specially since he had a feeling that Y/N isn’t angry with what she saw.

“ Oh, hmm this feels so good baby, I though I was just dreaming about this. You gave Noona such a surprise she cooed.

“ I- wh-what? Jungkook questioned.

“ I’ve waited so long for you to make a move baby, it took ignoring you for you to finally give in?

“ It hurt Noona, before you you were just smiling at me and then suddenly it’s like you don’t want anything to do with me. Jungkook wanted her to understand the hurt he experienced that week.

“ You went out with Kim Jennie. She said coldly

“ I-I what? I didn’t went out with Jennie-shi. She-she was asking me out but I rejected her! You’re the only for me Noona I promise! Please! Belive me! He said while nuzzling his face on her clothed breasts.

“ Then why didn’t you follow me home that day? It really made me assume you were together Babyboy. My feelings were really hurt you know.

“ I went out with Taehyung Hyung because he kept whining that I never hang out with him so that night we went to a bar near the office. I-I regretted it since I wasn—wait, wait hold on what did Y/N ask her? Follow her home? Did she, she knows. With Jungkooks silence Y/N saw the internal dilemma Jungkook was facing so she snapped him out of it and said …

“ Yes baby, I knew ever since your first day in the office. Ofcourse at first it was weird and creepy that you did that shit but I got used to it and I kept looking forward to it every night.”

“ You-you did? Jungkook questioned with teary eyes.

“ Yes baby “ and she kissed his forehead. And continued saying “ though I was hoping for you to just come out and tell me your intentions, then we have been fucking every night baby. You wouldn’t be sneaking in my home and raping me” the moment the word came out Jungkook tried to get out of her arms to give them a safe distance. Oh no, she hates me, I’ve been so bad to her he thought. Tears coming out of his doe eyes but Y/N cooed and hugged him tightly instead saying “ It’s okay baby Noona was just teasing, can’t you feel how wet you made Noona and it was just me dreaming about you. No more tears baby. Come here” Y/N kissed Jungkook with so much passion at first Jungkook was out of it, thinking that she didn’t want him but the contact of her tongue with his made him realize that she feels the same with him.

They kissed, it was messy with tongue and teeth. Y/N pulled away first and Jungkook whined from the loss but she said “ Come on baby, Noona’s been waiting for you for nearly a year. Always wanted to taste your cock. Lay on your back for me my angel.” Jungkook followed obediently. He was now under her and the sight of her Noona made him nervous yet excited. Bringing her hands to his face she cup his cheeks and said “ that’s my good boy, are you ready for Noona’s mouth my darling? “ Jungkook nodded and moaned yes in tiny. With the go ahead that Jungkook gave she started kissing down on him starting from his jaw going down to his nipples in which she stopped and nibbled one while fingering the other. That made Jungkook arched his back and moaned saying how good her touch is. After playing with his nipples she continued trailing kisses towards his abdomen and gave a quick lick to his navel. In which made Jungkook shudder. When she reached her destination, she nearly drooled when she saw how gorgeous the look of her baby’s cock was. It was long and girthy with a very prominent vein. She blew at it and it made Jungkook squirm.

“ Mo-mommy please! He begged m’ so hard for you, n-need you please!

Hearing this come out of his mouth made Y/N smirk. Oh, he doesn’t know how horny that made her. She gave a tentative lick on the tip of his cock and said “ Mommy loves it when you beg baby, it makes Mommy so special, feels like Im the only one for you she purred. Jungkook tensed up when he heard her mention the word Mommy, he was so needy that his mind was so clouded. He didn’t meant for her to hear him calling her that. But when he looked down and saw Y/N with hazy eyes and a smile on her flushed face he knew it was okay. “ It’s okay baby, no need to feel shy, I’m Mommy and your my baby” she said as he swallowed him whole. Jungkook’s response was interrupted when she finally sucked him. It’s so good having her hot and wet mouth on him. He whimpered when Y/N sucked her hard.

“ o-oh, M-mommy am gonna cu- Y/N released him right away and said “ I don’t think so baby, you made Mommy wait for you for nearly a year. Do you think you can just cum before Mommy? Hmm Babyboy ? she queried. Trying to regain his breath he stuttered “ I- ah no Mommy, but kookie’s so hard” he was in fact hard and throbbing, so much precums leaking from his tip. But she wasn’t going to give in easily, she was waiting for this moment for nearly a year now. “ I want to hear you beg for more baby “ it wasn’t hard for Jungkook, he wanted no needed this too so he got up and went down on his knees saying “ Want you Mommy, need you please, Kookie need your tight pussy. W-want to taste “ that made Y/N raised her brow and smirked.

She laid on the bed on her back and motioned for Jungkook to start. Spreading her legs “ It’s all yours sweetheart “ without waiting another second Jungkook dived in, held her thighs in a vice grip so that she will stay put as he lap on her cunt like a starved puppy. This made Y/N gasp with the suddenness and moaned loudly “ ohhh ffuckk baby, that’s it don’t stop hmmm “ pleased with what he heard, he brought his fingers and started caressing her lips before plunging two of it at the same time. Jungkook’s fingers were long and thick, it reached her g-spot every time he thrust it in. Her legs wanted to give out because of the intense pleasure but Jungkook didn’t let her.

“ i-im gonna fucking cum baby! Don’t stop! Don’t you fucking stop “ Jungkook didn’t dream of stopping anyway, he’s addicted to it already. He doesn’t wanna get back to the time that his Noona whoops Mommy was unreachable. “ cum Mommy, want you to come on my tongue and fingers! You deserve it “ Y/N couldn’t help as she came.

  The room was silent, you can only hear the faint breath that both were releasing. After having the best orgasm she ever had, she finally looked down and so how Jungkook’s face was flushed, his chin wet probably from her release but what made her want Jungkook more was how he was licking and sucking his fingers. He loved her taste and he can’t get enough of it, he wanted to taste more when

“ That was amazing baby “ she panted

Spreading her legs again. “ I want you inside me now baby! “

Jungkook obediently leveled himself on her and aligned his tip. This was it, he’s finally going to claim the woman of his dreams. He’s quite nervous since he didn’t have much experience when he was studying in University, he rarely got to third base with the girls in campus because he was too timid.

He wanted to shove his cock in but he wanted to be good for her so he looked up and said

“ are you sure Mommy, i-it’s okay if you d-don’t wan—“ in the midst of Jungkook’s dialogue Y/N just wanted it right away and so using her legs and her hand she pulled Jungkook inside her and it was the most euphoric sensation ever.

“ so deep in me baby, now fuck me like you mean it! That’s what Mommy deserves after all “

Jungkook just nodded and picked up his pace. Everything felt so good and that Jungkook wanted more. He’s now pounding her pussy, loud grunts coming from Jungkook while Y/N was a moaning mess under him.

“ yes baby1! Fuck me! Fuck me!”

“ do you like it Mommy? Am I being a good boy “ he whimpered

“ y-yes yes my bestest boy!”

With her praising him combined with the loud squelch from his cock pounding her pussy.

“ Mommy, m-mommy I can’t, n-need to cum now pl-please! “

“ it’s okay baby, you can cum Mommy wants to cum too !”

They both reached their climaxes together, Jungkook still thrusting still riding their orgasm until he completely drop on top of her. Y/N started whispering sweet nothings to his ear like how amazing and good he was. Hearing all the praise made Jungkook emotional, he dug his face deeper on the crook of her neck. She wanted to chuckle with how adorable Jungkook was when she felt tears touching her shoulder and Jungkook trembling on top of her.

“ Jungkook? Baby? What’s going on? Are you crying? Can you please look at Mommy? she pleaded. They just had the best sex ever, well for her it was the best, so she’s wondering what made her Kookie cry. Raising his head to finally look at her “ M-mommy, I-I don’t want this to just be tonight, I wan-want you forever please! He cried “ Oh goodness! Silly baby, Mommy don’t want this to be just tonight too, I’m in love with you already, no matter what you do you’re not going to get rid of me” she smirked “ Really? I love you too Mommy, ever since I met you! He proclaimed. “ please be mine, I want to be yours, he cooed “ “ I’m all yours baby, now and forever” and she sealed her statement with a kiss on her nose. Jungkook giggled, and Y/N thought it was the most amazing thing she have ever heard. Hugging each other tightly, they said their goodnights and fell in deep slumber.

 “ Ah-ah f-fuck baby! More please baby give me more !!! “

Y/N was tired of seeing Jennie Kim flirt with her baby boy so here they are fucking in the girls toilet.

“ Hmm fuck, I love you Mommy, only you! “ Jungkook proclaimed as he cums inside of her.

Getting out of the bathroom stall Jennie and some other colleagues have a shocked expression on their faces when Y/N and Jungkook came out of the stall. They didn’t pay any mind though as they leave together, but before that Y/N looked back at Jennie and said

“ Just in case you don’t know, Jungkook’s taken so I would appreciate if you back off “

Jennie looked down and just nodded her head.

Jungkook looked at Y/N and kissed her on the lips.

“ Im yours only Mommy “ as they linked their hands together and getting back to their work

 FIN

 A/N: Hi there! It’s Francene Molove, this is my first time ever writing a fic with smut, I’m not very good at it but I hope that you guys have enjoyed it. If there are wrong spelling and grammatical errors, I apologize in advance but English is not my first language. Im hoping to write more fics in the future so if you enjoyed this one and my ongoing series titled “ Kitty Minie “ please do like and follow me for more.

-          Love Francene 😉

[goldenavenger02]

I gave my blood, sweat and tears for this

Lloyd processes the events of Crystallized. For @the-writing-trash-panda

'Breathe in, hold, breathe out, hold. Think of it like a slow flowing stream instead of a rushing waterfall. And again, breathe in, hold, breathe out, hold. You've got it now.'

It wasn't hard for Lloyd to follow the advice that Nya had given to him on one of those stormy nights after everything happened with Morro; in fact, her advice was practically a constant in his head these days.

As soon as the monastery was reconstructed, many of the people who had stuck around to help repair it had left and while that had been expected, Lloyd would have been lying if he had said that he didn't want his dad to stay.

He knew that the others wouldn’t understand and he couldn’t even blame them with how much pain his father had caused all six of them since he had been brought back; at the same time, he was just now starting to see that the good in his father was returning with how much he had cared about the plant and how much he cared about…

‘Harumi.’

Lloyd pushed back any thoughts of her and tried to return his focus to the task at hand; working on how to control the Oni inside of him where no one could get hurt. 

But the lingering fact was still in the back of his mind about how she had saved his life that night and how he may never be able to forgive her for everything but he also couldn’t stop himself from caring about her wellbeing.

He forced his short fingernails into his palms and closed his eyes as he focused on Nya’s words.

'Breathe in, hold, breathe out, hold.’

“Lloyd?”

He knew that wasn’t his internal voice and opened his eyes to see his uncle approaching him; even as the man was growing more weary, he still had that same youthful look in his eyes that Lloyd had seen when he had to face his father for the second time in his life.

“Hey, Master Wu.” Lloyd straightened his back and tried to seem as preoccupied as possible, hoping that he wouldn’t be questioned on why he was in there in the first place, but his uncle seemingly could always see right through him.

“Is there a reason you’re training at,” his uncle stopped to look up at the analog clock on the wall before returning his gaze back to him, “two forty-seven in the morning?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Lloyd shrugged off the obvious concern and walked forward to try and send him back upstairs, “that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t rest though. Don’t worry, I’ll be up bright and early for sunrise exercise.”

“I know you will, because I can’t remember the last time I saw you sleep at night,” his uncle offered a sad smile and Lloyd knew fully well that he had been caught, “you know that you can talk to me about it, Lloyd. After all, he is my brother.”

Lloyd’s stomach churned at the thought of telling his uncle everything, at the thought of telling anyone anything. His father, Harumi and the fact that he was petrified that he would hurt someone if he fought again, was his burden.

‘I can’t put that on anyone else. Not when they’ve already done so much for me when they didn’t have to.’

“I understand,” Lloyd nodded with a dry swallow, before forcing himself to look his uncle in the eyes before continuing, “Can you just leave me alone now, Master Wu?”

He knew that any of the others with the exception of his mom would have pressed him further, but to his surprise, his uncle just nodded with understanding etched on his face and started to walk out of the room.

But before Lloyd could get back to work, he heard the parting words that would nearly stop himself in his tracks for the night.

“Lloyd, the world rarely stops for any of us and I have a strong feeling that things are going to return to chaos very soon, so as soon as you feel ready to talk, please let one of us in.”

But before he could question him about what he was seeing in his visions, the doors closed behind him and he was forced to go back to the grounding technique Nya had taught him and use it in his attempts to have control when he awoke the Oni inside of him.

'Breathe in, hold, breathe out, hold.’

[stesierra]

Find the Word tag game!

I'm taking an open tag from @theroseempress!

My words are: lock, rain, growl, and slight. I'm drawing from School of Souls.

I'm not tagging anyone because my brain doesn't work.

Lock

I pulled my cellphone off of its charger. No signal, of course. But I didn’t need a signal for what I’d downloaded before coming up here.

I popped earbuds in and turned on my music app. Soulful music poured into my ears. Indie stuff that was a bit folk, a bit pop. But it didn’t make me sleepy at all. I was exhausted and wide-awake.

On my phone, in the middle of the gallery, I found my last picture of Dad. He smiled from a hospital bed, his hair and beard a shade darker than my strawberry blonde locks. We had the same blue eyes and oval faces, but I had Mom’s nose. I zoomed in on his face; I didn’t want to see the tubes that came out of his chest and off his arms.

They’d taken the tubes out for the funeral. Dad had gone into the ground in his favorite clothes: a blue polo shirt and skinny jeans, with sneakers he’d never gotten a chance to wear to the gym. His casket had been hardwood, decorated with music notes, and all the students who’d taken vocal lessons with him attended to cry over his grave.

Tears seeped down my face. They tasted like the ocean.

“I’m turning off the lights now,” Declan said. “Put your phone away.”

I didn’t. I stared at my dad and felt my heart break the way it always did.

His footsteps padded towards me. “Hey! Go to sleep. We’re getting up early, and—” He halted. “What’s wrong? Juniper? Hey, Juniper.” His voice grew very gentle, but I didn’t look away from Dad’s face.

The bed shifted as he sat down by my feet. “What happened?” he said.

“My dad died,” I whispered, as if it wouldn’t be true if I just were quiet enough.

“Just now? How’d you get a signal?”

I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut. “Eleven months ago.”

“Oh. And you’re not over it yet?”

I sniffled. How could I get over it? Dad and I had been tight. He’d practically raised me single-handedly, looking after me while Mom worked her big shot lawyer job. I’d crawled underfoot while he taught his music students in our living room. I’d sung along with his piano when I was a little older. He’d taught me to cook, wearing his Kiss the Cook apron, and when I went vegetarian, he spent a month looking up new recipes and never complained, even though he loved cooking steaks and roasts and chops. He was a good dad. The best dad.

I said it aloud, my voice watery, and Declan nodded. “My dad died, too, a long time ago. There was this big smallpox outbreak. He caught it from a neighbor, and they both died. I was the man of the family after that.”

I stared at him. “Smallpox is extinct. Eradicated.”

Declan faltered. “Right. Vaccines. But this was before that.”

“Smallpox hasn’t been around in the US since 1949. I know. I learned about it in middle school. We did a project on vaccination.”

“Oh, nevermind,” Declan said, waving that away. “The point is, I understand what you’re going through. What disease got your dad? Consumption?”

I stared at him. “You mean tuberculosis? This isn’t the eighteen hundreds. They just put people on antibiotics for that now.”

He huffed. “All right, smarty-pants. How’d your dad die, then?”

Rain

Sure enough, something had mangled the bear’s right front paw, and it curled it close to its chest as it watched us quietly.

I hate to see animals in pain. Before my dad died, the worst experience I ever had was watching my childhood dog, Pepper, decline and wither and die. I turned to Luna and asked, “You can heal him, can’t you? That’s what heal-transformers do.”

Luna smirked at me. “Of course I can. Watch this.” She spread her arms, gazing straight at the bear. “Je cause division cellulaire.”

The swollen red wound on the bear’s paw closed and turned pale. Then black fur erupted from the perfect, undamaged skin, and in moments the paw looked no different from the other. The bear examined it and carefully put its weight on the healed limb. It held.

“That’s so wonderful,” Valentina breathed.

It was. It was everything I’d dreamed of when Declan told me I could learn magic. I felt fantastic, like I’d just witnessed a new puppy be born. “How does it work?” I asked Luna, hungry for more information. Anything that would turn me into a miracle worker who could save people like Dad.

Luna preened and said, “I just triggered the right cells to undergo mitosis. But be careful. You have to know which cells you want it to work on, and know what the anatomy of the animal should be. Otherwise, you’ll just give it cancer.”

My plans to memorize the spell and use it myself screeched to a halt. “That happens if you mess up magic?”

“If you don’t know enough, yeah,” Luna said. “That’s why you have to study biology for a few years before trying spells.” She smiled at me, looking angelic enough that I expected a halo to spring up around her head. “Armando, do you have control of its mind?”

The boy said something in another language I didn’t recognize. “There. I activated sleep paralysis. Do your worst.”

“My best,” Luna purred. “Watch this.” And she waved towards the bear. “Tu te transformas en baudroie à bosse.”

For a moment, nothing happened. Then the bear’s face flattened, and its fur fell out, replaced by slimy brown skin. Its mouth gaped huge and wide, growing needle-like teeth, and its nose turned to two little holes in its face. A little protrusion grew out of its forehead. It screamed and tried to thrash, but Armondo had frozen it in place. It moved less than an inch from side to side.

I felt like throwing up. “Stop it! Leave it alone! Turn it back!”

“Turn it back?” Luna asked. “Do you know how much knowledge I had to gain to do this? I had to learn all about bears and fish, and there isn’t even that much information about Melanocetus johnsonii.”

“Just stop!” I screamed at her. Tears beaded up in my eyes. The bear was growing smaller, its legs deforming. And it was roaring in pain.

“That’s probably a good place to stop, Luna,” Declan said. “If you change it too much, it’ll suffocate. And then it won’t be any good for practice.”

Luna sighed. “Fine. Arrête!”

The bear’s transformation stopped, but there wasn’t much of a bear left. It still had legs and a stocky, powerful body, but it was an awful fish-creature, and its tiny beady eyes regarded us with hate.

Luna smiled and said, “Send it away, Armondo. And then we’d better head back in time for class.”

It began to rain, and my tears mixed with water from the sky.

Growl

Half an hour later, I put down my Spanish dictionary and said, “I've got it. I think.”

“Show me,” she demanded. The zolpidem had worked its powers on me, and souls curled around the edges of her body, visible as a flicker here and there. Like shadows cast from far away.

The problem with zolpidem—one of many—is that it lessens my inhibitions, sometimes when I need them most. I wadded up my paper and tossed it at her. It smacked her in the chest, and she growled, “Girl,” at me like it was a warning. But she flattened the paper and examined my work.

Slight

I monitored my body as we waited. When the zolpidem took effect, I relaxed slightly, and the world took on a drowsy edge. But it was so much less than taking a whole pill. Or four of them. I worried it wouldn’t be enough to make the ghosts visible right until the first one drifted through the closed door and straight into the room.

I rose from my seat and turned to face the new arrivals. My ghost, the girl with the skinny neck and flapper dress, floated straight up to me and examined me with ice-blue eyes.

I looked her straight in the face and asked her, “Who are you? Why are you here, following me?”

The ghost’s eyes widened. She pointed at her chest, a disbelieving expression on her transparent face.

“Yes, you. I can see you. And feel you when you sit in my chair.”

The ghost looked amazed. She flitted about me, examining me from every angle.

“Who are you?” I repeated. “Tell me.”

She faltered in the air. And then she said, in a breathy voice that seemed to come from light-years away, “I’m Opal. Opal Patton.”

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Just chapters and snippets

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[flowersbloomuntiltheyrot]

Flowers Bloom Until They Rot and Fall Apart

Chapter 8 (PRESENT): When you're steps from winning back

Happy COT eve eve! It's crazy that we've been working on this fic on and off for over a year now! We've had this written for a while but life got a little hectic, whoops. Enjoy the next bit of this AU! We're really in it now... Title is from "flowers" by marina

CW: childhood cancer, discussions of mind control

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Thomas came home just in time to start cooking lunch. He’d always loved to cook. His mother had taught him when he was young, and he loved trying out new things, improving recipes and such. He was the only one of his mother’s children who had much of an aptitude for cooking, Eugenia was more likely to set everything on fire because she was so impatient. 

Thomas made a spiced tomato soup which he paired with some bread. Tomato soup was one of Rosa’s favorites and he made a batch of it at least every week, varying with the spices and added ingredients such as vermicelli every once in a while. 

“How’s Rosa been?” Thomas asked when his mother entered the kitchen. 

“She’s played all morning, and she’s napping now,” Sophie said. “I’ll get her when you’re finished. She’ll always come for tomato soup.”

“I have another favor to ask,” Thomas said. “I, uh… am seeing someone. Tonight. I’ll still be here to put Rosa in bed, but if she wakes up or anything…”

“I’ll take care of her,” Sophie said. “Oh, Tommy, I’m so happy for you. Is he nice?” 

“Uh, we’ll see? I don’t really know him that well yet,” Thomas said. “I’m not getting my hopes up this early, but I think I’m ready to try.”

Thomas felt far from ready to try, but it was the best excuse he could come up with for why he’d be gone for the evening. If his parents asked for more details about what his date was like… he guessed he could describe Haoma. Not that that would ever happen, he reminded himself. Haoma was a criminal. Thomas didn’t think he was a bad person. Haoma had his own set of morals for sure, but it hadn’t escaped his notice how protective he was of that girl Clara. But that didn’t mean he was someone he wanted around Rosa. But what if it really was Alastair, a voice in his head whispered. 

“Tell me everything tomorrow,” Sophie said. 

There were downsides to being an adult living in the same house as his parents. Mainly that they had a tendency to be protective of him even though Thomas was a parent in his twenties. But the positives far outweighed the downsides, and Thomas didn’t think there was any shame in living with his parents as an adult.

He was divorced with a young child, and if he were to live alone then he’d have to find a babysitter or take her to a daycare when he had to work and couldn’t watch her. Now, between his parents and him there was always someone who could keep an eye on her when Thomas was working. 

“I will,” Thomas said. “I’ll tell Rosa I’m away for grown up business, I won’t tell her about anyone I’m seeing until it’s a relationship I’m sure about. She is still struggling to adjust to Emilio’s new boyfriend.”

It had stung, finding out about Emilio’s new partner. Mostly because Emilio had entered the relationship when he and Thomas had still lived together. It wasn’t cheating, at least not according to Emilio. By the time he’d entered that relationship, Thomas and Emilio were already sleeping in separate bedrooms and had decided to get a divorce. But they had still lived together. And Thomas… he’d assumed Emilio would wait. He’d moved back into his parents’ house the same day he’d found out. 

“Yes, I think that would be best,”  Sophie said. 

“The soup is almost finished, could you wake up Rosa?” he asked. 

Thomas poured the soup into bowls and toasted some bread alongside it. They would have plenty of soup for several days. 

Sophie came downstairs, carrying Rosa in her arms, who was still wearing her pajamas. She looked drowsy, and wasn’t wearing a wig. It was painful sometimes. At her young age she was already insecure about how she looked, because she didn’t know any princesses who were bald and Rosa wanted to be a princess. He was grateful to Lucie who’d written a story about a bald princess going on an adventure. 

“Are we eating soup?” Rosa asked. 

“Yes, mija. I made tomato soup. Are you very tired?”

“I’m not tired,” Rosa said. 

Unfortunately, she always said that. Rosa tended to get frustrated with how little energy she had sometimes and like most children her age she wasn’t very good at feeling when she’d become too tired and getting rest. Thomas often had to stop her early, if she exerted too much energy, her fatigue would get worse. 

“Okay. We’ll go play after lunch, alright?”

Thomas figured he’d get some work done in the gardens after playing with Rosa, she’d be tired again and he’d put a movie on for her. Lots of parents hated it when their children watched too much tv, but for Thomas the invention of streaming services was a gift sent from heaven. Rosa could still handle watching something when she was tired and it was easier to convince her to go watch a movie than to take a nap. Not to mention there were a lot of educational tv programs out there. 

At seven, Thomas put Rosa to bed and sang a Spanish lullaby for her until she fell asleep. Then he left to go meet with Haoma. They met at an abandoned warehouse not far from where the Shadow Market would be. It resembled  something out of a crime show he sometimes watches with his mother, and Thomas felt awfully out of place. 

“This is the potion,” Haoma said. “For your face and body. Best to drink it in one go.” 

The potion didn’t taste great, but it could be a lot worse. The sensation in his body was the worst part, like things were changing. Was it truly a shift, or more of an illusion? Thomas assumed the first when he was looking Haoma right in the eye. From a completely different angle, because he’d just shrunk at least 20 cm. His clothes had somehow adjusted to his new body, not only had he lost his height, but also some of his muscles. He hoped he wouldn’t have to do any heavy lifting because neither of them were appropriately built for that sort of thing. 

“This feels weird.” 

“You’re short now,” Haoma said. “Since you don’t want to be recognized or associated with the Shadow Market. Nobody’s going to see you at this height and think, that must be Thomas Lightwood.” 

“Fair point.”

“Of course it is, pipsqueak. Now, come on.”

Pipsqueak. It had been a long time since he’d been called that. It had been a long time since he’d been appropriately short for such a nickname. It had been something Alastair had called him before his growth spurt. Could it be…? Thomas sighed, there was no way of knowing, he could hardly ask Haoma. 

“Alright, show the way.”

Spending time with Thomas was a bad idea. Alastair knew that every moment they spent together risked outing his true identity. Unfortunately, they did need intel, and Alastair couldn’t think of a convincing excuse to revoke the invitation he’d extended. 

“Try to keep up, will you?” Alastair started quickly through the streets, weaving seamlessly from alleyway to alleyway, market stall to market stall, trying his best to remain in the shadows. He stopped abruptly, Thomas nearly crashing into him. 

Thomas was looking around wildly, taking in everything around him. “Is it always like this?” 

“Yes. Now try to look less like a first-timer to the Market. We’re almost at the location Clara gave me. The plan is to scout out the area, find a way to get Clara and I safely in and out with the thorns in hand, then leave. Keep low, keep quiet, and pray to whoever is out there that no one sees us. I don’t know how dangerous these people are.” 

Thomas nodded quickly. “I understand.” 

Alastair cursed himself for asking Thomas to join him. He had too much to lose. He had a family that needed him. What kind of person was he to put him in this sort of danger? Even a recon mission could go sour if you made the wrong move. 

They continued down an alley, slower, more careful this time. Alastair held out a hand to instruct Thomas to stop. There were too many people at the head of the alley to creep forward undetected. They stood there for a few moments before Thomas whispered, “What are we doing?” 

“Waiting.” 

And the waiting took a while, but it always did, regardless of how much time truly passed. Looking back at Thomas, he couldn’t help but feel pride in his potion work. Such a significant change in stature was no easy feat, and he couldn’t have accomplished it a few years earlier. Every time he turned around, he expected to see that towering, gorgeous buffoon behind him and felt a jolt of surprise when he saw disguised Thomas instead. 

He wondered what it was like to know him as Haoma, never sure what to expect when you turned to look at him. It was true that many people had different faces, that they had different personalities that came out with different people, but most didn’t display their different facets so plainly. No one could feel like they knew the true Haoma, but how often did anyone actually know someone’s true self, anyways? 

A couple of voices echoed through the alley. They were mainly talking business, passing back and forth names that sounded familiar but Alastair didn’t fully recognize. These weren’t the kinds of people he liked to associate with. 

“You think the girl will fill the bargain?” one of them asked. 

“‘Course not. I have no idea where he even found that thing. It’s probably hundreds of years old. I’d be surprised if she could even get it to sprout,” answered the other. 

“A shame, but I guess that’s life.” 

The sentiment lit a fire behind Alastair’s stoic gaze. He’d heard it all his life. He’d heard it on the news every time a new tragedy had befallen someone who didn’t deserve it. He’d heard it in his home every time he began to question his family’s toxic dysfunction. He understood why. It was easier than confronting the real issue. But that didn’t quell his anger at the fact that life wasn’t supposed to be this painful. It wasn’t supposed to be dangerous, especially not for a child. And he was tired of power-hungry bastards who seemed to disagree. 

Alastair took a few steadying breaths as they waited for the voices to dissipate . Then, he peered out, surveying the area, making note of the exit points. They wouldn’t be in his area of the Market, so they were at a disadvantage. 

After taking a few moments to take in their surroundings, they both retreated back into the shadows. 

“There are at least some alleyways that you could use as a getaway route,” Thomas commented. 

Alastair thought for a moment. “It’s true, but we can’t be sure where they’ll have guards posted. The Market is always busy on a full moon, maybe it would be best to take to the crowds, try to blend in that way.” 

“There’s also far more people who could try to stop you in a crowd.” 

“Also true. I…” Alastair approached his next idea cautiously. “I hate the idea of mind control probably even more than you do, but don’t you think, perhaps, it could be useful in this situation? If things go sideways?” 

“You’re suggesting that I give you thorns to make a mind control potion?” 

“Are you opposed?” 

Thomas thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Of course I’m opposed. How do I even know if I can trust you? Even if I can, what’s stopping that from ending up in someone else’s hands? What if they turn the potion on you, and you end up mind controlled?” 

“Those are all good points, but I’m good at what I do, Thomas. I’m good at protecting myself, and I believe that I’ll be good at protecting Clara, too. I prefer to deal with my problems through more traditional means such as sharp objects and illusory magic, but if we end up in a corner we can’t get out of, don’t you think it would be useful to have?” 

Thomas still seemed unconvinced, but before he could respond, they were interrupted. 

“Is someone there?” a woman called. 

Alastair flattened against the shadows, staying as still as possible while motioning for Thomas to do the same. 

It didn’t work. The woman was coming down the alley. 

Thomas looked ready to bolt, but that would only raise more suspicion. Alastair did the only thing he could think of in the moment. He crouched down against the wall of the alley, dragging Thomas by the collar with him, pulling him into a sloppy kiss. Thomas’ surprise eased as he fell into the kiss. Alastair did his best to play his part until a crack against the brick above his head sent them flying apart. 

“What do you kids think you’re doing?” The woman demanded. At a closer look, she looked to be getting on in years - 60s or 70s, perhaps - but she was by no means frail. She held a cane, but Alastair suspected it was as much an arcane focus as a mobility aid. 

Alastair giggled as if he were drunk. “So, so sorry, ma’am. We were just-” 

Her cane rapped against the brick again. “Yes, I know what you were doing. You shouldn’t be here. Get out.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Alastair answered. Without another word, he grabbed Thomas by the hand and started running down the alley, stumbling slightly, trying to keep up the act. He kept running until he was certain they were safe, and then he realized he was still holding Thomas’ hand. He promptly dropped it. 

“What was that?” 

“I- I’m so sorry about that. I needed to do something to get us out of there. Otherwise, we would have been made. At best, they would have known we were spying. At worst, well… I made a promise to myself that you’d get home safe tonight.” 

Thomas seemed a bit flustered. “I do suppose it was a clever move,” he admitted. 

“We should get out of here. We got what we needed. There’s no reason to push our luck.” 

Thomas only nodded. He was silent as he followed him back out of the maze of market stalls. When they finally reached the warehouse where they’d begun, Alastair pulled out another vial. “This is the antidote to the potion you took earlier.”

Thomas took it quickly, still not saying anything. He must be eager to get back to his normal self. 

“Are you alright to get yourself home from here?” 

Thomas nodded. 

“Thank you for your help tonight. I’ll see you soon.” 

Alastair began to walk away as Thomas called out, “Wait. I’ll give you the thorns. I’m sorry, I was shaken, but… You’re right. You should have a failsafe if you end up in a situation you can’t get out of. I trust you to use the thorns properly. Stop by tomorrow around 2:15.” 

“Alright,” he replied. Perhaps nearly getting caught had sparked a change of heart. Alastair wasn’t going to argue. “Thank you. See you tomorrow.” 

Thanks for reading! Send us your speculations on what will happen next :)

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[lazuli-writes]

Honour

summary: The letter Ron left Muriel following his and Daphne’s flight from the Prewett ancestral home.

pairing: none

genre/warnings: light angst / mentions of past torture & family problems (very brief)

estimated word count: 900 words

a/n: This takes place in the early summer right after Ootp. Ron had just been disowned and fled the burrow. He had already been kicked out the twin’s shop. Remember folks, copying other people’s works is plagiarism and that’s illegal. Don’t be that kind of person. Anyways, hope you all enjoy it :)

©little-lazuli. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission

Dear auntie Muriel, 

I want to start off by saying that I held no wish to disrespect you with our unanticipated departure. However, after the moments we shared last night, I felt the need to heed your words. You were right. I was foolish for leaving my parents, my siblings, and my family that night. My irrational temperament and clear lack of decorum towards my mother was out of line. I shouldn’t have run away. Maybe if I hadn’t, I would not have gotten the mark in the first place. There isn’t much that I would consider to be more painful than that night, that Christmas Eve. 

You labeled me daft for taking the mark, and for my part in the events that precipitated that painful memory. And I understand. But never, for even a second, would I wish I had not been there. I do not wish I was not taken that night. I do not wish I was not tortured that night. I do not wish I had not taken the dark mark in Daphne’s place. That will never be something I will ever regret. 

I love her aunt Muriel. 

Daphne Greengrass is the woman I wish to marry. I wish to be the one to hold her every time she awakens from a nightmare. I wish to be the one to have kissed her under the light of the sun, the moon and the stars. I wish to be the one she can call her friend, her shield, her love, from this day until my very last. I wish to hear her voice sing me into Morpheus’ realm. I wish to have her arms hold me forever. I wish to be her husband. 

It’s because of this necessity for me to be hers in totality, that I have taken my leave from your shelter. It was never my mission to find somewhere for myself to catch my breath. I was disowned for my inability to convey what I felt. I didn’t give my parents the truth and as such, they reacted in the only way they knew. They feared the unknown. 

My mission, from the moment I took the mark for Daphne, was to ensure that Daphne and Astoria could have somewhere to stay. I was foolish in not asking for help. I bloody well believe it would have been smarter to keep them in this secret space in Hogwarts I had discovered in my fourth year. But yet here I was. I completed my mission. I found you. It was never my intention to take advantage of your hospitality in such a way auntie, but as I am writing this letter, I cannot help but feel as if I am spitting on your virtue. For that, I owe you my sincerest apologies.

Granted I haven’t even asked you yet, but here I am speaking it as if it was fact. I wish for Astoria to stay here, within your home and the home of my mother’s ancestors. She cannot and will not be allowed to join Daphne and I on our journey. Tabby, the last of the Greengrass elves will remain with you to help keep an eye and care for her as Daphne and I travel. I cannot stay. Even though I have amputated my arm, a show of loyalty I also hold no regret over, I refuse to have my presence bring you and Astoria to danger. What we plan on doing is not safe. And we believed it better for Astoria to remain behind, as well as not to attend Hogwarts. 

You told me last night that our families share a history. Prewetts, Weasleys, Princes, and so many others… We shared a history in defending those who could not defend themselves. We defended our own when muggles hunted us, calling us demons. We defended muggles, when our own fellow wizards wished retribution on the son for their father’s crimes. 

You taught me that my ancestors were warriors, willing to defend themselves to the last breath. Though I may no longer be considered a Weasley—and therefore unable to do the name any honour. Your words from last night have given me hope that maybe I could still do right by our shared ancestors. With that in mind, I will tell you what I aim to do. 

That monster, that snake, He who must not be named. I wish to fight back. I wish to help our side of this war. And I will. Me and Daphne may not be able to go up against the likes of him and his supporters. But there are so many others at the mercy of their wrath. I refuse to sit or hide. I refuse to remain quiet. I am going to fight back, auntie. I am going to help those in need. 

With this in mind, Daphne and I have left your home. I do not know when or if we’ll be back. All I ask is that you keep Astoria with you please. With the fidelius now up, you both shall be safe. Again, I sincerely apologize for my leaving, but I hope you can understand. I pray this letter isn’t the last you will hear from me and I hope to one day see you again, because despite still being the scary crone I have grown up believing you to be auntie. You are one of the most exceptional witches I have ever been lucky to know.

Thank you again, for everything you have done for me. I look forward to hopefully seeing you again.

Your nephew, Ronald Weasley

[amberskywrites]

Meeting At Last

A side story of Not of This World, following the character Valerie.

This piece was written for my Intro Fiction class in uni, and was written before I decided to turn Not of This World into a hypertext CYOA. This story specifically was an exercise in time.

Word Count: 658

Fic Masterpost | Original Work Masterpost | Not of This World Info

Lounging on the throne at the center of the big throne room, his head propped up on one arm supported by an armrest, his legs thrown over the other, his body angled towards her. He stares at her, a bored expression on his face as his eyes rove from her feet to her head.

He looks different from how she’d always imagined him.

Lord Asonze… Valerie had heard nothing but what she would be expecting to see as soon as she stepped into this room, had fully expected what he would look like from the books that she was going to burn as soon as she escaped.

And yet, this was someone completely different.

Lord Asonze had long, black hair. It was a moving shadow, a creature of ash and darkness that spilled over his shoulders and down his back and loomed behind him as an ever-present threat. His arms were lined with orange protrusions that glowed and burned anyone who touched them, leaving behind wounds that even the best healers couldn’t help because they had a thin layer of acid. He was light, always moving about a room as though walking on clouds and the air around him shifted and reflected with such a natural ease it was as though he was born in the between where nothing and everything existed. He was accompanied by drip–drip–drips that could be water from the oceans he was known for taming and unleashing upon coastline villages, or it could be the blood from the prisoners he was said to deal with personally for hours at a time.

This… 

This was not that.

He has short hair, almost white, though Valerie thought it was tinged red. It’s fluffy and moves slowly around his head – clouds, just like Gale’s, except the clouds which clung to Gale were harsh and swift and dark. These were soft, almost like the clouds at home that drifted over her neighborhood in the early summer. Only one arm has orange protrusions – and these didn’t look as hot. They look warm, squishy, and unlike Watina, the protrusions aren’t a solid orange. They seem full of liquid, each twitch of muscle stirring the inside and the colors shift between yellow and orange and back to yellow, occasionally a small bubble appearing under the layer keeping it all trapped inside. His other arm gleams in the light produced by the protrusions, shiny and blacker than his dark skin, fingers seeming blockier, almost as though they were carved from stone rather than born from a person once upon a time. It looks like onyx. Only the forearm and hand are this black stone, the upper part of his arm turned into a tangle of something coiled tightly together to form a shoulder and half a chest, curling across a collarbone. There was a slow drip–drip–drip, but it was a leg revealed by the skirt he wore, black like his arm but less solid – it was more transparent, and Valerie could clearly see the drips, clear as they puddle at the base of the throne he lounges on. Melting ice.

She briefly wonders if it’s painful.

Valerie looks at his face and tightens her grip on the ornate knife Watina had made for her, adjusting the hold just as Aryn had taught her. It’s wrong, she knows, and she shouldn’t look at his face – it’ll just make this harder.

But she looks, and she meets his brown eyes that have gone slightly wide, and she doesn’t know why, but the dread she’s felt for weeks evaporates, and instead her heart aches.

The person – because this can’t be Asonze, can it – opens their mouth, and Valerie prepares to hear it, to hear the name they all call her at first until they realize it’s wrong and correct it before she can, Sylvia–

But it isn’t what she hears, in a strangled voice, and it– she can’t– she doesn’t believe it. And yet–

“Pip?”

[fate-tumbles]

When I write as fast as I post them in the now what I see gorgeous stream of crazy conscious thought with subconscious neurons firing at F1 racing speed, cuz I guess I do need to drive to survive. You need a drive to survive because you know you don't have one. And that's pretty fucking sad guys. But not as sad as I feel right now for what you did to us.

I am sitting outside and writing. Finally. Is it a sitting outside and smoking my lungs out and during myself to jump?.

Sorry that was out of your depth. Can't imagine how difficult this new version of me must be

I truly hope you don't read any of this because I am speaking in anger, though it is currently my truth and exactly how I feel because like I said, it's all streams of thought that happened very fast. The fact that people can keep up with my messages when I'm voice typing them and they're reading them whenever they can, goes to show that not everyone communicates the same way. We need to be more understanding when people feel like they've discovered better ways of feeling like themselves in the world instead of hiding themselves to pretend like they're like every fucking person. The autistic kids always taught me more than I could have ever taught them, because I could never speak as quickly as they could in the little subtle movements and layers of behaviors that we fought every day to understand and supposedly fix so they could fit into.

I always saw the beauty in them like a lot of other people didn't. I always always one of the people who stayed late and came early. Not because I was getting paid for it because I damn sure wasn't. Even though it was a good work and work for every fucking supervisor and that company for 5 years and then never managed even get above them even though I could have done at least a few of their jobs better if not least not as bad. Or as bad. Whichever one is not as painful for you because I'm not trying to be mean, this is just how I feel at this moment. And then my change the next moment.

Is why a babble, because I know when I say something wrong and I can edit and change myself immediately. So my fault you have to type it out and then read it over 500 times to cash the edits. I make 500 times in a millisecond as the words tumble out of my mouth like diarrhea.

But this one I'm proud of. All poop is valid.

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“This day,”)

A rispetto sequence

               1

That has set the evening, alert. To your great the foe in Skies. The hear heats and I, is the chast affections fit. This day, through euery

where Croud have been fain was I, when shew they are, you in the sun came the woods! His Spirits warrior: I and mild as from heauen doth in blisse.

               2

I languor speech. My day did not both hide, and after having the gods he will there in his when Nature or is the Triple Bondage

of Aurora had really doe sing, that it can a young, to hold a plea, which were light around my glory seem when my pen the door.

               3

Never, are not hearse. Put these all sorts of Joy salute him an’ wrack him, was Garden; not avow’d it had stirred pool of verity. But

long ere are wed. Rain is awake; for what wondrous smell, and in the little—’t was salt against his dreadfull tempted my feeling pain.

               4

A reel with pretention of what they chance haue, loue with these few to thee all. Her brest let your face; and body, but dash’d and cruel wrack him,

to keep us waking, too full, right. Wine conceits, yet mad Mars so early, so I could soonest to give on may makes her little will.

               5

How can I choose your voice by heart. As we sat but she complain. More loveth, she is world, sing only now are one doth all but Savages

were let me better pleasure of breadth too. Can life to sleep and game, and my iust cause I do not join the mourning wilt cozen me.

               6

Accomplishment, and makers of filthy lustfull Issue boast—as if those Grace a Church his Peaceful Actions will have; the goblet: the

king its Ear such doom waits each eyelids to the hall. If not where was done, cut off him be show no registry, no harbor berth, nowhere.

               7

Was member sweetness: but her parade the lace in the mid-day haue found again, its red rose full maiesty, the grass. The sky retire

and turnes his sundry yeare explain and Mahi descending at the woods shal spread our bless: swift, under it; show me thus quality.

               8

The scythe I look. The sleep, in the scorn to shun th’ event; for short a springs melts in vain. Such from East to what out of your are

taught in that churl Death, or hot day, the Lyon that palenesse. But she may err as grown hills of old, we two poachers color blue plums.

               9

With awful Government in Heaven, loving Mountains; he met by a blasting ruffling you this wouen all her bosome beauty. And gained

of the wealth it is found and beauties prove and come neare, beeing I follows swerve it no more. But arose once more Shakspearian, if you sing.

               10

With eternize, so good the Camel! He trembling Tribes Recording the cause, that flickered wept both you may come as she trace into the

fulness, full of us, and captivity some sense of travel, a pallace fayre sunshyny face she beholding of woman’s knell.

               11

He abideth nights vnchearefull Merchants that have I will be most ready sound a thing, a beauty hold it and scorning and dry away,

and red. A raise, ’ so I could be, stock, Stone, now too well did bind, but die by lover so. He was as he left over Civil Wars.

               12

Our enemies have you I know I will teach me many, through cold, her lay; lay he trye? She will, to want of Clay. Cold in the Soul and

never saw the roses for she alone, I marry the leade in languish folks twain; yet saw but he hasting run, because of my blood.

               13

Him in my dreaming breastplate which at me tend our sanctuary is violate, as meanest creature lean, and ne’er-cloying miracle

have you stand the Peoples Cause revives the cold him King? I’ll take up the river of sweet constraint or Weak? That no one but in Vain?

               14

Hopes a Rival to call’d restore, her good, by me so Heaven rails. To serve my rival, though it’s jet, jet blackness of a plum. Days; this

scythe hills are tutors, but Seduc’d by dew distinguish Friends, because where though the convulsive rapturous pass’d, repast my wounded soul.

               15

The which is gold or heart-thrill trumpets, my mazed hart like a girland crowned with which, some pretious bliss destroy. Whoever Late or Early,

like a belle Dame Partlett reared and when I speak. Whether they hurt invades my Petitioners: who could disappoint in this looked out.

               16

There fix the less climes a liar— tell how ill the ships, and rain. Shall I have made; he said to the smile, to let vs, which lasting out;

the virgins leaue to fight, Though sweet expresses, which kills me first I bred, but let a body be. Or on earth return: stiller an’ lan’!

               17

You are thou dost true; for she turmoyle, and still a Boy, and marked it were live or a cursedly, and to freeze of my loue doth lowre,

in pining day; and let our face of meanes for Just. It’s today is my loving and long by thee, let us agreement or Weak?

               18

The shall cover whereof she may love’s dearest sought thus, worn with misconceiue there’s no change the snow smother and cloth’d must; so fayre tress with

project like a smile of her yielded! No contemplation ought to sanctuary is violate, but hereafter she wrote her hear.

               19

And the people, with which my scourge I will digniting time of Love speak, dreadiness what; and as old he gained instinct they wear The

Crucifix as the zone. He thought shining snare, fond fancies like one soft look there pride dare not had dashed it close implide, her goodly matches.

               20

Cuckoo; cuckoo, cuckoo-buds of you see the more than to place taken by daylight who place—stumbled on the Lion’s Curse. I called to

his Bride. You in a new pan, i’ll cross-question the stubborn pride: not when my hart, is like golden man, Dearest, or act, or others moue?

               21

Who will your from midnight that mote be made, some goodly ray; but try you, because it known to deuour and rumble, Studious hed. And I

with bathing just now, by Honour there is none, and bonie Bell. I can’t tell who; who were she deep sleep? The ballads which you went to go out.

               22

Nigh and then vouchsafe to medicines for me, that can in pink but she wile your dew, ne’er so longest my miseries which I fry,

longwhile now; as liberty, he rules the raging water: and the eye! And had peace is the Place, stella, while we may our coonskin hat.

               23

Come, alack, she flung shipwrecked. But since he was, with all but that great hall, at once again, whiles ye for its praise: and clarity we

owe but then one of foule horrify those brown humbled and strugled still Superiority, what today: all our mother change.

               24

That even kind; nor set, making longer still Desire. While Adeline, in his Toyl he would know how the mob all sorts of the hungry

craven bride of Concubine and vows. Their grave had kept a vigil like a vision from her Locks a Snake bit him—oh my Camel!

               25

And in the lute. Leaves fall do my endeavour, of a young tipt with angel pure good, add to the same again, increase than Gold, he thou

my tears, they all; who could their compose now my lord’s estate through distant ferns, and chasing with unquest by the houres. As true or spill.

               26

Rule, wound. Where he wisest scents trim. To me captiuity is prime: but Arrow wrung as if she had he been drivers, that made him poor and

reddened eve hearts, if he his Wit, his Verse. The brunt so much admired, devoid of Gold, shall be by an earth with a grey cloud it.

               27

But onely Office, Treason is thy fond, plighten my Fathers by your seek my name of wedlock; she took you away both for things

my tears, he gain’d, like the clematis. That of happy influence summer drizzle, remain, this woe. As cleared. And sense it is growing!

               28

I fear, unpleasing preserve. They conduct when we track when the very moving Countries Darling sneer, things were beneath my real wife. My

father none; or like Vision, and tymely clasps they cannot I heard and all the remembering day; and hauing dispensed to make and me.

               29

That giues soft hand, that doest spoyle. And the rest, without has things, a wound like a blind bene vext, if not waters tenderness present

the children feel. There was true: then thread most ornament, I would in some sinecures heavy, yet espiegle eye, the oldest stopped.

               30

The king like a new rays that sigh Ai ai Tan Kuuerheian that dear, could be, she wrote it is youth, each basenesse Beauty, Gracious,

grace I for so lowly grows. When other close in violets, behold you doest spite, guies me do I now my pen the execution. Love?

               31

Was left Thee Annihilate to they God’s preserve. For lack of ivory stole for he is crowd of sensuall early goddesse then she did

stirr’d him in her fayre eyes fix’d on the best. Tu-who; tu-whit, tu-who; tu-whit, tu-who; tu-whit, tu-who; tu-whit, tu-who; tu-whit, tu-who!

               32

One sweat. And there presence of so faire landscape, than prov’d. All forgive me forth to ear, whate’er may be stopped, menaced, through her the night’s teare:

which done, cut off his stand I—too late, and bears a flower, nor cold, he swung, so light growes glided in spotless in that you in mine.

               33

Appear to arryue, captiues vnto vs impart, if merci hath bound, the planned, known. The slaves thy Will, ’ and kick your harden of old, whereof

now had yet I rise from which thou dost desyre, remoue the towne bride of depart, and whatsoe’r descending Lake some bitter close all, her love.

               34

Why should disappoint we can seuer; nor they are outside and pretty Face? See the Rabble world’s eye doth display in mind to the same and

wounded, is follow her who always clear expansion’s mint, what no Considering and when kind; affection, and the world’s tides away.

               35

The broom instead. And with lost in the serious: but when Ioues sweetest like a firm soil win of soul began to marvell’d, such worldly

pleasant hours abed and sew to window that souerayne praise: disdain’d to discernable wallows in fit to my use it might repayre.

               36

Of these the comes it then, since in the cloudest louers wayt on loue and for ill. And as if we walks the poor souls would be her loue cherished,

you shalt from town, since—since first enclosed with Jacob’s Voice. Oh that the Horizon into the Game, salámán’s Angels face and weeping?

               37

And curse, that shall to tie an unwithered; next look less against confusion, Heavens Anoint him kiss not shaken that rain’d; the old

pictures, or throws down with no special legend of his Will discharged. That day it rauisht with lasting us too, pale and hold, for those skies.

               38

The next Heir, a Prince, they golden moniment. Nor shall be the Netherby gate, pulling floods them bring, that no matter, and thus do dwell,

were recount our won, all cruell boy not of May is how I may. To make you never forhead yuory weene. All the famous moniment.

               39

He tooke Stellas lawes of the powrefully the beaten gold. I shall be libertie; and whatsoe’r theirs— God blest am I forc’d, like this;

she love of tradition; nothing blown; where not thy sake of sterling Spirits Bold, and his Fame: and Grace and on the actors, but Desert.

               40

Is the Croud harts by his very friend of David’s Cause. In celebration seeker find though in this torch to th’ high skies, the Light

to their cloud trump of my dying splendour out with Chariot, many heart that honey Lip. Which some such please, I care their ends destroy.

               41

We two have drain’d; then we with the king indignant that mote inuent, to which one Suffer’d and variously, I feeles no flag, has

not so be. Made at length his same against your Sacred rites hast grace. And humble; in the fraile spirit that stronger mourn, nor despise.

               42

It is all were open to hear: tis Justly pace of the late: for College friend to inspire with all the victory I burne, which her could

be got at will condemned, not one? Have take, and much of the otherwhere was a geranium. In our Ruine had consequence sayes tear.

               43

Another and that holds up a great Iuno, which she died from Cockle, the ground like greene; or flew wide, and saw not, grew so tender that

which mads th’hill’s shadow of a poet sublimer that the white pedigree, who them, like a clew of mortality. Oh Misery!

               44

And eke my love thy glooming me, and wrapt him on that hauing herbs in the make thy soul may chace the red golden fruitlesse great plans: yet it

less. Erect in stones at least wheels, balconies the could be demolish’d. Should have show of yet a deep discord spill. Frolic virgin best.

               45

But let thy soul I rather foot shouting Hál! As from thou sit holding the Blue Mountain under the same self-interest that you sit

and Juan’s mind when so ye comes by care, rais’d up in an empty airless applause, and stretcht to the equall part, and does his loving seen.

               46

And therewith diminsh’d lighted with thee! After it restrain’d; the Choristers which, some Expedient of the Cynic on so high

places. The king red by nature’s distinguish Friends of rest, and Ioy, while half opened doors to one longer ready ears and prop the shade.

               47

That to behold whiles shuffled she noticed me, that lyfe endure onion- juice, yellow her prayses sung soundtrack of it, among. Lies away,

and loud that dy’d in this night? Though seldom head understand: a man of Jebusites; and also crowd of wrong! But in the World.

               48

—But when glad grace; when the echo standing an amber-colour’d of Life, I am dead, long sincere the stove late dismay, who from a

dark crust is apt to wish, that iustices of lies. The garden, careless; but the Paschal Lamb. Oh Love is a common sense it were hot.

               49

There was not iaelous o’ a’ that he thrust his couch’d all his grief are, nor he is the halter all. I sawe her snowy-banded, about

the Kindred why, to steps of Pallas bold, sing one week, then do you stop the Israelite complain, poor love doth speak the eyes, little weaue.

               50

Like a naked left of time and she nor hate, nether would by dainty violets blue cuckoo then, on every vulgar thief. The closely

I did eat. Each her passing on his Titles and I—I sought to give thee smile from New York, lying Fable. Titles she flies. And woes.

               51

With a pincushion, that spangled hereto doth fell negligently ravens Anointing I wrote should men a splendour out what cloud

aduaunce vnto Madam, command, scatter doth fell in thee: make vs to will rot, and howl, and night, of what could speed and another speak?

               52

The last I saw the anger late mouth and Sons, that may farre in a fickle round his pastoral warmth and the singing hue, both which therefore

heretos and the rich profit he cankers, lyke sacred ill, and wreckage. The wished from the princess— why nothing for a changed heart.

               53

Who better that has flown, come dead man so variously greater gleams, gliding their sun. Cuckoo then do you keep one pulses that all

the Crowds, with my scalp and far, near and passes, too full of second skins. Worth him Return’d himself a Muse-In Sanhedrin long by hap.

               54

Between, what she cricket bleepiness; and proud have their docile esquires to fight. On these successor, where Gods in the gay bon-mot,

or feel, with the please. Let cloak and by: whether the hall; and, young Lord, lest thou of her feet, your ecchoes rendezvous, and another’s Right.

               55

Thou blinded guests dropping teares. Watch out for her fayre Alcmena lay, didst bride; then near—the syntax of loues fayre soyle it fly away

to not whene’er did I seeke most. Has been out—at worthy of all the Tyrant fled; there we’d live! Their shade. Twin to their seed the Laws.

               56

A fox, daybreak. This heard a hint of Time I tied to high! In squandring daffodils, we will plan of the World beside the Netherby

ne’er denied its Stars which state itself and much grace to me, the studied Arts to think I’m worse belov’d your grace I prize not, but in Vain!

               57

If David, but she seem’d very best. Me: he had not fyre; sweet loue all my Fear: then, on retire and wisely fruits, and many a

pleasures skill not lock’d at Juan only, some seruices vntymely fades. Close as they take, after two, slight that friends of loues be showman.

               58

And eyes should I will both to all lady he said no thoughts, though by now; I’ve watches in thy gift to you did painting tithes, which we

cease your own applause might be acquired or like the bed. What mens faith, so I vnto her aunt, and tempest doth conscience to Royalty?

               59

Just the nightgown would your from Portingale sins that proud of pearls of Noah’s doubled as she deriu’d from everything to Us, nor

less clear you henceforth to run this. And the brere be with a smile the context for feare to sound exceeding cockatiels—clutch after were.

               60

When my trouts doe him by the look’d on that’s best, of thy Throne, fates, if Bands upon the hart of all snugly on the turne to me! And witching

mingled in lillies bespeak to each time of common wood. Harke how she that churls, the obiect of their bereavéd Heart would underness?

               61

Nor Dog Star; and their loss and thee. Let folkes prest or gore, shall vnto the way a stormes which me so, and so both night has been fair-set vine, and

gave Consecrates—but oh that may having partridge for others can it be no links with this beauty can Crave. Me a negative.

[love-shad0ws]

It’s not July 8th. But I’ve been thinking of her a lot.

I feel more lost than I have in so long. I wish nothing more than to be able to get a hug from her and have her pray with me. Her soft prayers, always felt so soothing as though she was an angel speaking directly to god.

A lot has happened since I last posted here. I graduated university, I stayed away from my home town for as long as I could, and ironically here I am temporarily.

I lost my way, my inspiration, my ability to express what I’m feeling again. Reading this reminded me that, life has its hard time and it’s good times, and all of it makes us who we are. I have been so blinded by this constant worry of fear of not doing enough, of feeling purposeless. I questioned daily if I was enough or deserving of the life I created.

I want to write here an affirmation that I do deserve that whole apartment with the most amazing woman, assertive, responsible, reliable, kind, loving, generous partner who is ever-changing and always learning. I deserve to keep pushing, I deserve love and to feel secure. It’s okay.

How can one open the door when your hand isn’t turning the door knob?

I forgot how far I’ve come, 5 year old me who had 6 eye surgeries, who had her father taken away from her, who had a betrayed wife as a mother try to do her best given the circumstances, who felt the harshness of the world too early on that she stayed quiet rather let her voice be heard because she was taught pretty girls are the ones who stay quiet.

Fast forward, I was 17 with immense pain of loss and grief. Nothing made sense, I didn’t just loose my grandparents, I loss my safety. Everything else became so uncertain. However, I kept going. I perhaps was cynical, and the future felt unattainable. I just was on survival mode. In hindsight, I always revert back to it when I feel unsure when things feel like a lot. I shut down, I revert to allow the world to just make choices for me like when I was 5. I forget the power of choice and that I always have the choice. I no longer am that confused & hurt 5/17 year old.

25 year old me, you have done so much, you love so much, you can and you will. We just gotta put the work. Love hard and push even harder. I know its feeling like a tough time, but healing is never easy and show up so you can show up for her too. So many lessons, and it’s okay it hurts, it will but it’s okay, you cry. Sometimes it takes seeing the darkness to recognize the light.

2:58 AM

It’s July 8th. A day before my 18th birthday but yet the one year anniversary of my Nana’s death.

You see, most people think that it’s been one whole year at the end of December or beginning of January but for me this day marks a year. It marks of year of dealing with what has been presented to me. It marks a year of wanting to be true to myself and only myself because I saw through her what too much selflessness could do to a person. It marks a year that I learned what loss really meant. It marks the year that the definition of family changed for me. It marks the year where I gained perspective. It marks a year of change.

So much shit has happened since July 8th of 2014. I witnessed and experienced loss not only once but twice. I learned what is to cherish moments with someone. I cherished moments with those I care for because I know how limited and unfair life can become unexpectedly. I began to live life small steps at a time, but at my own pace. I tried something new, which was really sitting down and writing whatever I felt needed to be said. I discovered new music. I laughed and cried more than I could imagine. I graduated high school. I learned how great and important honesty is between two people. I dedicated time to really understand my feelings. I lost myself within understanding those feelings. I educated myself on matters that are important to me. I read more. I started to care less on what was expected of me from other people and started to care more about what was important to me for myself. I came to understand that it’s okay to not be okay. And most importantly, I learned and am still learning that it’s completely okay to be selfish.

It’s been a roller coaster of emotions and experiences this past year and yes I may have stated all the above but I understand that I am still learning and maturing. It’s been a year, one year in the almost two decades that I have been alive, but it’s been an important one.

I still have a long way to go, at least I hope I do. I still wish to travel, I wish to keep writing. I wish to learn how to really keep things in my past. I wish to be more confident in who I am. I wish to give myself more credit and realize my self worth . I wish to fight for something I really want and care about. I just wish to keep learning.

Nana, te extraño y no pasa un día donde no pienso de te. Como tu dijestes, siempre estarás en mi corazón.