#AND I CAN REMEMBER THE FIRST TIME IT PLAYED SO CRYSTAL CLEARLY. in the living room at 1 am with my mom and us watching this show for the

[emi1y]

AND THE RESIDUAL EFFECTS. them using this song as the outro to the first episode > me getting sooo into green day (and then me eventually going to hella mega tour) > how much influence has that had on my music taste now ?? and me seeing the ben schwartz and thomas middleditch tour bc of the show. my fucking zac woods phase where i watched every single thing on his imdb. got into parrty down from martin starr. jimmy o yangs comedy and his book. the death grip that show had on meeee

[aryaqua-reh2o]

The Full Moon ending is perfect!

A day in Stolas and Blitzø’s lives that summarises what’s happened so far. 

Blitzø and Stolas are perfectly disastrous in their way and of course, they were going to collide at some point. After brewing for one and a half seasons, the miscommunication between these adorable idiots peaked. Who’s fault is that? Both! And in equal part! I can’t stand reading how many people blamed Blitzø alone. The truth is, they both acted incredibly wrong and also incredibly well for who they are. 

Let’s start with Stolas: he ran out of his happy pills on the most important day of his life (probably). Now, I can’t talk from experience because I never used antidepressants (at least I assume they are antidepressants), but I doubt that skipping one dose turns you into an emotional wreck. But the thing is, Stolas is autistic and I can relate to this and the way he behaved. The pills were something he could rely on to stay afloat probably during his whole sad life, so running out of it first thing in the morning in the middle of an emotional Dinsey princess moment was truly bad timing. Stolas found himself stripped of this little safety blanket. During his song, he gets happy, dramatic, desperate and hopeful. He most likely spent the day in a mood swing, and let’s remember that he wakes up at 7 AM and meets Blitzø at 11:56 PM, plenty of time to panic [Side note, the breakup happens 4 minutes later so at midnight on the dot, I love these little details]. Stolas knows how he feels about Blitzø, he has known for some time, and he’s ready to tell him. If I know a little bit about how a brain on the spectrum works, he most likely had been rehearsing any possible scenarios in his head for hours (or days, or months) and that’s why when Blitzø arrives, Stolas doesn’t say anything to interrupt the other displaying of sex toys, until he decides it’s time to stop Blitzø (that it’s clearly freaking out already at that point) and opens the conversation in the worst possible way ever: “I need it [the Grimoire] back. Permanently”. It seems unnecessarily cruel to just take the book from Blitzø, letting him tear up and beg. But then Stolas pulls out the box with the crystal and we have the Stolitz music playing and… but why make Blitzø cry and not just give him the crystal straight away? Because Stolas was too stuck in his mind already. He played out this scene so many times in his head, that he couldn’t act any different without losing his cool. Don’t get this wrong: from here on I absolutely LOVE how Stolas handled the situation, how he spoke, what he did and said, from kneeling in front of Blitzø, gently holding his hand to calm him down when he was about to panic, and then he gave him the crystal while confessing his feelings for him. Stolas at this point had been in touch and honest with his feelings for months (at least since Ozzie’s from what we can see on screen), but the main problem is that Stolas has no idea of what is going on with Blitzø, so when obviously Blitzø feels cornered and doesn’t want to face his feelings so abruptly and hides behind sex and roleplaying, Stolas loses his control over the situation and closes up for good. Anything that happens between “Do you…Do you have my book Blitzø?” and “That’s enough to know what this is” is a monologue. When Blitzø doesn’t follow the idea Stolas has in his mind, Stolas just walks away. 

And this is VALID because Stolas has never been in a real relationship, he has no friends or family aside from Via, and he doesn’t know how to deal with people with complex emotions like Blitzø. It is quite common for people on the spectrum to assume that everyone else is alike, thinks alike, and responds similarly to certain patterns, so when Stolas doesn’t get the response he was expecting, he immediately reads it as rejection. He turns away from Blitzø and leaves without giving the other any chance other than yelling in anger and despair. 

On Blitzø's side things are more linear. He was and still is in constant… ignorance. Meaning he actively ignores his and Stolas’ feelings. I don’t think he is in denial, because he knows fully well he has feelings for Stolas at least since S1E6 Truth Seekers, he knows he fears intimacy and also craves it. And he most likely knows, at least in part, that Stolas has feelings for him as shown during the exchange with Fizz in Oops (that part was denial, yes). Blitzø knows this night is important and different. They haven’t seen each other for months. He was the one who decided to skip a few rounds when Stolas gave him the opportunity, and if we go with the text exchange in Western Energy, it’s safe to assume they haven’t seen each other since Seeing Stars and probably haven’t slept together since before Ozzie’s. Blitzø’s strategy to deal with his fears and feelings is to let things linger doing nothing in the hope they settle back to where they were when the deal was still new and comfortable. Because Blitzø doesn’t want to admit he has feelings for Stolas, but most of all he doesn’t want to accept that Stolas has feelings for him, because who can love him? Certainly not a prince of all people. Blitzø goes shopping to impress Stolas because he wants to keep staying in that deal, no commitment, no need to reveal his feelings, he could keep going forever, transactional sex is convenient and non-commmittal. (Inadvertently showing, while doing sex shopping, how much he cares for Stolas and how deeply he knows him and what he likes, he wants to make Stolas happy). He wants to go back to sex and show Stolas a “good time” so he doesn’t have to think about how he felt when he realised Stolas could get hurt. He doesn’t want to think about anything, but then, when Stolas takes control of the narrative, Blitzø can only be there and follow it until it gets too overwhelming. He tries so desperately to stick to the habits, to the point he has this massive slip when he tries to give back the crystal to Stolas and says he can always do better. He doesn’t want a way out. He doesn’t want to choose. He loves being in chains because it’s easy. He wants things to stay the way they are, for Stolas to use him as a sex toy, and to be used by him because admitting that he has feelings and that he sees that Stolas has feelings for him is too much. But Stolas clearly states how he feels and what he wants. Blitzø understands perfectly, but he can’t accept it, so he tries in a desperate attempt to get back to where they were, to pretend one more time. Blitzø runs away from the feelings Stolas is showing him in a way that triggers Stolas in the worst possible way. Stolas runs away from Blitzø when he can’t deal with his heartbreak anymore, triggering Blitzø’s fear that translates into an angry outburst. Stolas doesn’t stop for a second and doesn’t listen to Blitzø who is yelling at him to, basically, stop and listen to him. Blitzø says hurtful things to Stolas because he is desperate and he feels rejected and abandoned by him. After avoiding any type of confrontation for months, Blitzø finally gives in, but he’s hurt, angry and terrified so he does the only thing he’s comfortable with: he yells. He doesn’t know of Stolas’ past of being abused by his wife. Stolas just wants out, out of the feeling of being rejected (even if he obviously jumped to the wrong conclusions too fast) and away from yet another person screaming at him. Blitzø only manages to stop Stolas by yelling at him hurtful things he doesn’t fully believe. Unfortunately, Stolas listens to that. And for the first time in his life, he cries in front of someone. Blitzø finally realises how much his words hurt Stolas, but it’s too late to apologise and he finds himself teleported outside mid-apology.

Honestly, I don’t think they could have screwed up any worse than that even if they tried. But this needed to happen and I’m glad it did. Blitzø needed to see Stolas heartbroken to understand Stolas was in love with him. Stolas did the best he could for who he is, he made the first move, and now the ball is in Blitzø’s court. 

I owe Blitz an apology. When speculating on The Full Moon I assumed it was going to end badly and I blamed Blitzø for it. Now that the episode is out I can see that mostly it’s Stolas’ fault. Yes, I said it, it’s predominantly Stolas’ fault if The Full Moon ended in tragedy, but this is important: Blitzø knows Stolas treated him wrong (not only in the last episode, many many times before that) but now he also knows that Stolas can get hurt physically and emotionally, and yes, he proved himself to be a pompous rich asshole that happens to also be deeply in love with him. Is then Stolas worth fighting for? I think we all know the answer. What I hope to see in Apology Tour is the both of them apologizing to each other AND to themselves. Neither Stolas nor Blitzø know what love is. They are trying and failing but in the end, they are both desperate for one another and if Stolas can get his head out of his ass and Blitzø finally drops the act for a minute, they could just… talk and start to figure things out. And maybe in Apology Tour we will know more about what happened with Verosika and why that relationship went South so badly, I bet it’s going to play a huge part in Blitzø’s future development.

[outsideratheart]

Cliche (Leila Ouahabi x Leon!reader)

A/N: Based off this request. I hope you guys like it and that I didn't drag it on too long.

The Leon sister's have a reputation in the women's football world but you never lied and always made your motives crystal clear. You had the rest of your lives to settle down and you planned on doing just that when you retired or got older but in the meantime you needed to find a way to relief the stress and pressure that comes with being one of the best footballer in the world and you favourite way to do so is by burying yourself in someone else.

You are fully aware that it was a cliche to sleep with your sister's best friend but when it came to Leila Ouahabi it's as if all logic goes out the window. It was never a part of your plan to mix business with pleasure especially when that business is also your sister's business but one night you and the girls were out celebrating, Mapi found herself distracted and you spent the night with Leila.

At first it only happened on nights out with the team but now you found yourself laid in bed on a random Tuesday morning, the brunette sleeping peacefully in your arms. The no sleeping over rule lasted a month not that you would complain. It was your idea but these moments with Leila had become one of your favourites.

"I broke the rule again" Leila's voice is raspy.

She squints slightly as the sun shines in her eyes but her face relaxes when you move your hand, which up until this point was playing with the loose strands of hair, and shield her from the sun.

"You seem to be doing it a lot recently. In fact I can't remember the last time you followed that rule"

Out of habit Leila begins playing with your necklace but her hand soon begins to travel lower, she gives you a knowing look as she plays with the waistband of your underwear. Whilst she herself hated to be teased, she had no issue being the teaser. No you wasn't opposed to morning sex but you had training in a couple of hours and you couldn't turn up less than 100% so you do the thing you body didn't want you to do, you grab Leila's hand and move it back to lay on your chest.

"We don't have time for that Leila"

You might have well be talking german because instead of backing down Leila hovers over you before straddling your hips.

"Are you sure about that?" The smirk on her face making it obvious that she knows the answer regardless of what might come out of your mouth next.

When her lips crash into yours you make no attempt at stopping or pushing her away. Instead you do the opposite, you deepen the kiss and in one swift movement you change the dynamics so it is now you who is on top of her.

The moment is short lived when you hear your apartment door open and your sister shout out.

"Y/N I know I'm early but I brought coffee"

This couldn't be happening. You knew she would find out eventually and you had a plan for that, one that included you in far more clothes. You were beginning to panic, a feeling that wasn't quite reciprocated when you looked down at Leila who is on the verge of laughing.

"Don't" you place your hand over her mouth.

"Y/N" Mapi sings. You can tell by the loudness of her voice that she is heading for your bedroom.

You have to think fast. You quickly strip yourself of the little clothing you have on and grab a towel which is in the laundry basket.

"Hide. Now" it wasn't question or suggestion, it was an order.

Leila tries to argue but the look you give her let's her know that nothing will make you change your mind.

She hides down the side of the bed furtherest away from the door and just in time as Mapi knocks before coming in anyways.

"I was in the shower. It's interesting to see what you class as an emergency" you tell your sister who clearly has no idea what you're talking about "the key? I gave it to you for emergencies only. Abuse the power again and I will take it off you, you know how I am about my space"

"Fine. Hurry up and get ready, your coffee's getting cold"

Once the door is closed Leila stands up wearing nothing but your bed sheet.

"I won't do that again" she says as she watched you get dressed in your training gear.

"Fine" you whisper shout "you go out there and tell your best friend that you have been fucking her sister behind her back. You wanted to keep this a secret just as much as me so don't stand there and act innocent"

Leila is taken aback at the way you described what had been going on between the two of you.

"I have spare training gear in the wardrobe. Make yourself some breakfast, you know where everything is, I will see you at training"

You kiss her quickly and you are slightly disappointed when you doesn't respond.

"Leila" her head snaps in your direction hoping to hear something a little more reassuring.

"Be careful when you pick something to wear, nothing with my number on it"

You say nothing more and within a matter of minutes Leila hears you and Mapi leave your apartment.

"No feelings Leila, it's what you agreed" She mutters to herself as she lays back on your bed.

There was a tension between the two of you at training but it seems obvious to only you and Leila or so you thought. The training was split into position drills so you wasn't working directing with her but it didn't stop your captain from noticing the lingering looks to the group of defenders. It is when you, Mapi and Alexia go to practice freekicks does she bring it up.

"Is everything ok?" Alexia whispers as you both watch Mapi practice her shot.

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" there's no way she knew and you weren't about to give her any clues.

"No reason" Alexia replies and you think it is the end of the conversation only it isn't "Nothing's going on in your love life or should I say sex life?"

Alexia knew, you wasn't sure how she knew but she did.

"Her sex life" Mapi wraps her arm around you shoulder "There's always something happening"

"It must be a Leon twin thing because I recall your body count been just as high as mine" you push her off you as you go to place your ball outside the box.

"Is that anyway to talk to your older sister" Mapi shouts.

"7 minutes Maria, you are 7 minutes older than me"

You rejoin the team during a drinks breaks. Leila looks at you for a second before turning her back, the action itself hurt but you couldn't bring yourself to ask why.

"You like her" Alexia continues her questioning "I can tell. What's her name?"

"Leila!" Patri shouts.

The sound of her name coming straight after Alexia's question causes you to choke on your drink and the connection isn't lost on your captain.

"You're sleeping with Leila! Are you crazy? That's your sister's best friend"

You knew Alexia would be disappointed in you. She had made her feelings towards your night time activities very clear but this was too much even for you.

Before Alexia can say anything else you pull her off the pitch and into the tunnel.

"Nobody knows" you see her eyes dart in your sister's direction "no, Mapi doesn't know and I want it to stay that way"

"How long?"

"Almost a year" you couldn't believe it had been that long and neither could Alexia.

You make a point not to get involved with anyone for long periods of time because it's gets complicated. The longest you had ever slept with someone is when you started seeing a player from the german league but even then you slept with other people in between.

"And have you been sleeping with anyone else during this time?" Alexia asks. She knew that you had trouble connecting with your feelings and if you did feel something more then you more need a little bit of encouragement to figure it out.

"Have you every thought about it being something more than sex?"

This is why you didn't want people knowing. The more people that knew the more pressure you would feel to put a label on whatever is going in between you and Leila.

"No. When we started sleeping together we both agreed that it would be a no strings attached type of thing, no feelings were to be involved"

"Y/N have you —“

"Alexia. It is sex and that's it. There is no relationship between me and Leila outside of the bedroom"

It was a difficult thing for you to say because whilst it was true at first you knew that things had changed over the past couple of months. You didn't want to break your end of the deal so you kept your feelings to yourself so that you could still spend your nights with Leila.

"Sorry to interrupt"

You hadn't heard her voice since you left your apartment this morning.

"Coach told me to come and get you. It's time for the scrimmage and you two are captains"

At first Leila couldn't look you in the eyes but when she did you saw something that make your heart break. Tears brimmed her eyes and you knew it was because of the conversation you had been having with Alexia only you wasn't sure how much she had heard.

"Alexia knows"

"Can we tell Mapi now?"

It wasn't a question you expected. As far as you were aware Leila want this to be a secret just as much as you did.

"No, we can't"

Alexia has excused herself at this point so that the two of you can talk in private.

"Right because this is just sex. We have no relationship outside of the bedroom"

She attempts to walk away but you grab her hand with a pleading look in your eyes. You know you said those words but they sounded so heartless coming out of her mouth.

"I need space. I think it's best if I go to my apartment tonight"

"Ok. I will come by after my media appearance"

"No Y/N" She pulls her hand away "I think I need to spent the night alone night"

Something wasn't right. Was she breaking up with you? No, she couldn't do that because you were never dating. Still as you watch her walk away you cannot help but feel like you are losing something you never had.

Your nights apart lasted less than a week and soon enough you and Leila was back into your old ways but something was different. She would spend the night but wouldn't stay in the mornings and she kept bringing up telling Mapi, something that you wasn't ready for.

Leila had reached her breaking point after almost been caught by Mapi again. You made her hide and once again she felt little a dirty little secret. She had a choice to make; keep the secret and keep you but lose her best friend or she could tell Mapi and inevitably lose you.

The following week Mapi came storming into the locker room one morning with Leila trailing behind her. At first you wasn't sure what had happened but then you saw Leila's face and you knew. Leila went against your wishes and had told Mapi about the two of you.

"I can't believe you!"

"Not here, not now" you reply calmly hoping your sister would mimic your energy.

"Why? What you've done affects this entire team and I won’t allow it"

The way she said what you've done as if you were in this alone. Leila who you hoped would have your back stands cowardly in her locker.

“You can’t stop me and it hasn't affected the team, you had no idea about us. I'm guessing the only reason why you do is because she told you" you don't say her name nor do you look in her direction.

"What's going on?" Alexia asks as she enters the locker room upon hearing the both of you raising your voices.

"Tell her Y/N"

You know what you are about to say is going to hurt but why should you care for your sister's feelings when it is clear she doesn't care for yours.

Alexia glances back and forth between the two of you then she looks at Leila and she knows what had happened.

"She doesn't have to tell me. I already know"

"Know what?" Jenni asks. She can tell by the reaction of the team that she isn't the only one that feels left in the dark about whatever it is that's going on.

“That my dear sister has been sleeping with my best friend” Mapi points from you to Leila, just for clarification.

“And what is wrong with that?” You may not have told your sister or the rest of the team for that matter but you didn’t do anything wrong and you wasn’t ashamed of the time you shared with Leila.

“You can’t just sleep with whoever you want” Mapi scold you “I have seen you when we travel for the champions league. You sleep with our opponents. You can’t—“

“I can’t what? Come home and sleep with the Spanish league. No I can’t because they have already have their taste of one Leon. You used to be just like me”

“She is my friend and our team mate”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Surely Mapi heard the hypocrisy in what she was saying. You looked towards Ana, your eyes filled with apology for what you are about to say.

“Hmm where shall I start” you walk towards your sister.

“Y/N don’t” Alexia tries to drag you back out fails.

“No, no. She started this” you turn your attention from your captain to your sister “friend and team mate, where shall I start. Alba is a good friend of mine and you slept with her. V is one of my best friend and you slept with her. Then we have Ana who is one of my closest friends on this team, you broke her heart, messed up the team dynamics and you are making her watch you be with someone else which brings me to my last person, Ingrid, who I have no problem with in fact I like her and think she’s good you. What I’m saying is you sit there on you fucking high horse speaking down to me like I’ve committed some kind of crime” you angrily wipe the few tears that have fallen down your cheeks.

“And you” you turn to Leila “you told her when you knew how I felt. Did you ever stop to think why I wanted this to say between us? Why things have been so different with you? I changed every single one of my beliefs for you and for what? You proved why I don't do relationships. I don’t know what you gained from this but it certainly isn’t me. You once asked for space, congratulations you have it. Whatever we had is over, I’m done, we’re done”

Leila was in shock. Was this your way of admitting you wanted a relationship with her.

“Was that so hard?” Mapi says smugly.

“Shut up Maria. Me and Leila may be done but we’re done too. You’re suppose to be my sister and I didn’t deserve to be spoken to like that. I want nothing to do with either of you”

You didn’t turn up to training the next day and missed recovery the day after that. It seemed like the whole team was worried about you but the calmness that radiated off your coach and captain let them know that you were ok and the two of them knew where you were.

“I have heard you speaking about Y/N and her whereabouts. I have decided to rest her for Saturdays game and after I told her she asked for a few days off which I think she’s deserved given that she has played the most minutes this season. It will be business as usual after international break.” Jona and the coaching staff leave the meeting room unaware of the interrogation they are passing on to the team’s captain.

As soon as the staff are out the room everyone begins asking questions about you.

“Enough!” Alexia slams her hands down on the table. She had enough of the questions and the other players pointing the finger at Leila and Mapi for your absence. She agreed with the rest of the girls but as the captain she had to remain neutral.

“Go home, enjoy international break and I’ll see you back here in 10 days time” they knew better than to argue with their captain so they do as their told “not you two”

Names aren’t required. It is obvious which two Alexia is referring to.

“I wanted to wait a couple of days for things to calm down but when Y/N called me telling me she needed to getaway for a few days I knew the chances of this resolving naturally wouldn’t happen”

Both Mapi and Leila sit down. The situation had escalation quickly and they knew that they had messed up. Leila regretted telling your sister and Mapi let her her emotions get the better of her.

“I’m going to talk now and you two are going to listen”

When Alexia got no arguments from the pair she continued.

“Y/N was right when she spoke about your history Mapi. Amongst the names Y/N gave the other day was my sister’s. I know she is part of our group but Alba is still my little sister, she is someone you slept with and then dropped when you got bored. Y/N is the reason why I didn’t come to your house the night I came home to Alba crying in your sister’s arms. Even when she knew you were in the wrong, Y/N had your back”

The was news to Mapi. She thought Alexia understood her sister was a big girl who could make her own decisions and as she has the thought she realises, once again, just how hypocritical she was.

“But she didn’t tell me about this. We tell each other everything” This is the reason for Mapi’s reaction. It might not have come across this way but she was hurt that you didn’t tell her about this.

“There is reason why she didn’t tell you but it isn’t for me to say. Y/N has to come to that realisation herself” Alexia is vague in her response, leaving the two defenders rather confused.

“She was ashamed” Leila says the only answer that makes sense.

It wasn’t a easy decision to tell Mapi about the two of you sleeping together but she thought that once it was out there then the two of you could have a chance at something more.

“That isn’t true and it’s not fair for you to put this on her. She told me you had been sleeping together for a year and in that time you never told Mapi about it yet it’s Y/N who is getting the blame for this when you played just as big of a part”

“A year?” Mapi asks making to obvious that Leila left that detail out when she told her about to two of you.

“A full year and in that time Y/N didn’t sleep with anyone else, it was only you Leila”

“You’re lying. Y/N doesn’t do that type of commitment” Mapi knew how you thought because she had the same rule for years.

“She told me herself. I know it may not seem like it but she cared for you Leila and she showed you in her own way”

“Back to backs” Leila whispers.

“What did you say?” Mapi asks.

“You know her rules” your sister nods “one of them was no back to back stays but I have done that a few times”

It's like puzzle pieces were connecting in her head. You had let her get closer to you than anyone else but Leila was blinded by being a secret and she didn’t notice it.

“I might have overreacted” Mapi admits “It’s jus she’s my sister and I don’t want her making the same mistakes I did. She was right when she spoke about Ana, I guess I didn’t want her to face the same fate I did”

“I think you both owe her an apology” Alexia tells the pair “and before you ask, I won’t tell you where she is. She might have taken this break to be away from the two of you but Jona was right she needed some time away from Barcelona to rest. You’ll see her at camp on Sunday.”

You spent a few days in Madrid and it was just what you needed. It was peaceful and your friends had no idea about what happened in Barcelona. When V found out you were in the capital she said you were with her, no arguments. You spent the day training at a nearby pitch and the nights with V, Lola and Carmen. You may have ran away from your problems but you needed this time to be Y/N the person not the football player, sister of Mapi Leon and the person who had been sleeping with her team mate.

With every day that passes you know that you are one day closer to having to face your Barcelona team mates and truth is you wasn’t ready. When you arrived at Los Rojas you stay close to the Lola but you knew that you couldn’t avoid your friends for long.

It was only Alexia that knew where you had been so when she arrives at the facility she goes straight to Lola.

“Where’s Y/N?” Alexia asks the goalkeeper.

“Hi Alexia. I’m ok, thanks for asking” Lola moves on from her captain as she greets the rest of the Barcelona girls.

“You look like shit” she says when she sees Leila “almost as bad as Y/N”

“Y/N?” Leila asks but then it makes sense, you had gone to Madrid.

“She told me not to say anything” Lola continues “but between us me, V and Carmen have a bet on what happened. My bet is that one of the women she slept with is giving her grief so she ran away. It was bound to happen at some point, right?”

“Watch it Lola. That’s my sisters you’re talking about” Mapi comes to your defence.

“Oh please Maria, don’t start being nice now. We all know how you see me”

All heads turn in the direction of your voice. Lola had been telling the truth, you didn’t look good at all. The dark circles in your eyes was barely visible but they were there. You hug Alexia, Jenni, Irene and the rest of your team mates but purposely miss out Leila and Mapi.

Leila couldn’t help but stare. You had your shorts rolled up in typical Leon fashion and the training vest you were wearing hugged your body perfectly. When she met your eyes, she recognised the look but when you noticed it you changed your expression. It may have only lasted a second but it gave Leila hope that you forgiving her was still possible.

“Can we talk?” Leila asks you.

“Maybe later? I’m about to work—“

“C’mon Y/N you can’t keep me waiting. You know I’m not very patient” Marta Cardona shouts from across the lobby.

There way something in the way she said it that caused your sister to shake her head in disappointment. It was no secret you and Marta have history that includes sleeping together multiple times.

“Are they sleeping together again?” Alexia asks. She didn’t want to believe that you would fall back into old ways but it didn’t look good.

“I told you” Mapi mumbles "She never cared for Leila, it was just a game"

“I don’t know. V thinks that she is”

“V?” Alexia asks.

“Yeah that’s her bet. Carmen things that Y/N got her heartbroken but that’s ridiculous. We all know Y/N doesn’t let herself get close enough to anyone for that to happen”

Alexia, Leila and Mapi all share a look. They never though of that possibility.

“Like I said, that’s ridiculous and even if it is true Y/N requested to room with Marta so give them a couple of nights and Y/N will soon forget about this woman who may or may not exist”

Leila scoffs and walks away. Had you really moved on from whatever the two of you shared and were you really sleeping with Marta so soon after you were sleeping with her. She had so many questions but right now she didn’t want to see you, a mixture of anger towards your behaviour and fear of what would be said.

It comes as no surprise to the defender to find you and Atletico Madrid forward sat together at the team meal. She watches in envy as the two of you interact with such ease, the interaction makes Leila feel sick.

“We don’t know if they are sleeping together” Alexia whispers in the defender’s ear.

“Look at them Ale. We’ve seen Y/N like this before, you can’t defend her this time” in that moment Leila felt defeated and the hope that she felt a few hours prior has died.

Meanwhile across the room you hear Marta talking but it just noise. You mind isn’t focused on her, it is consumed with thoughts about what will happen in the next few days. Yes, Mapi has hurt you but it failed in comparison to Leila betraying you. You were willing to break your rules for her, heck you were willing to throw out the entire book but that didn’t matter now.

“She is staring” Marta nudges you.

Sure enough when you turn around you see Leila looking your way. She says something to Mapi who shakes her head and refuses to look your way. You didn’t know what to do, part of you missed Leila and despite your best efforts to forget about her, it just wasn’t possible. It was frustrating that even when you were mad at her you still wanted to know if she was ok.

Then you remember Leila wanted to talk to you when she arrived at Los Rojas. Maybe now was the right time to find out where things stand between the two of you. Your hands grew sweaty with each step you took towards her and the nervous feeling in your gut wasn’t like anything you have experienced before.

“Do you still want to talk?” The confidence that normally lines your tone is nowhere to be heard.

“I’m surprised you pulled yourself away from your girlfriend, oh wait she isn’t your girlfriend she is just the person you are fucking” Mapi retorts from her seat, still not looking you in the eye.

“Do you think I’m sleeping with her?”

“Of cour—“

“I couldn’t care less about what you think Maria, I was talking to Leila”

Now all eyes were on the defender, waiting for her to respond.

The fact that Leila had to think about it gave you your answer. It hurt that she thought this low of you.

“You look cosy together” Leila says. It didn’t answer your question but it did tell you which way she was swaying.

“She’s a friend, who yes I have slept with but that was a long time ago. Leila please can we talk?” You ask her again. There was so much you wanted to say but you didn’t want a crowd of people watching.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. We should focus on the games we have coming up”

The drop in your demeanour wasn’t something that you can hide. This why you left Barcelona, Leila couldn’t hurt you in Madrid but that didn’t last long.

“I did nothing wrong” It was almost a plea.

The next morning your absence at breakfast is noticed by everyone. There is no seat saved for you at any table so it was clear none of the players you were close with expected you to show up.

“Marta, where’s Y/N?” Jenni shouts across the food hall.

“That depends. Are you on their side or her side?” Marta points to Mapi and Leila.

“There’s no sides” Alexia corrects her.

“Yes there is, how don't you see it? For some reason you guys have barely talked to Y/N since you got here. As for her whereabouts, I have no idea. She swapped with Misa so ask Lola where she is”

Lola shrinks in her seat. She knew exactly where you were and given that last night you told her everything that happen she was a little reluctant to tell her friends.

“Lola. Where’s my sister?” Mapi asks the goalkeeper.

“In the gym” Lola says "She wants to talk to you"

The table watches how Lola refuses to meet any of their eyes. Avoiding eye contact was one of her tells when she lied.

“Lola” Alexia tone is low “Y/N isn’t in the gym is she?”

“No but after the way Mapi treated her do you really think I would tell her where she is. That’s right Y/N told me everything last night. Carmen will be ecstatic when I tell her that she was right”

“Where is she Lola?” Leila asks.

“She’s in the room. She kept having nightmares and according to V she was having them when she stayed with her. Here” Lola hands Leila your room key “I’m not happy with what happened but you need to talk to her”

The room was dark as Leila entered. She expected to find you in the bed closest to the door, it was something you did because you thought it protected your room mate, but she finds you buried under the covers in what she assumed is Lola's bed. Had you slept there last night?

You hear the door open but hope that if you ignored whoever entered that they would leave you alone. At first you thought it worked but you feel the bed sink behind you and next you feel a pair of arms snake around your waist. At first you tense up at the touch but then you recognise the scent and your body relaxes.

"Leila. This isn't a good idea" you aren't sure what is happening but you don't move.

"You need to sleep Y/N. This doesn't have to mean anything"

It did mean something though, to both you and Leila. You hadn't slept together without having sex before hand. It was intimate and not something you have experienced before but the sleepless night left you with little to no energy, definitely not enough to argue. You hated how much you body betrays you as you lay in bed with the woman who you were mad at. It wasn't that you suffered from insomnia but you slept much better when Leila was there.

"What were the nightmares about?" Leila asks.

"You. At first is was replays of what happened in the locker room but recently it's you leaving me standing in my apartment, nothing gets said but I end up alone" you don't know if it's your lack of sleep or the calmness that comes when Leila holds you but you allow yourself to be truthful and vulnerable.

"You're not alone"

"But I don't have you"

Nothing more is said, truth is Leila doesn't know what to say so instead she holds you close and listens as your breath evens out letting her know that you had fallen asleep. She regretted telling Mapi about the two of you as soon as she did it and she hated how quickly things escalated. The defender sets an alarm so that you will both be ready in time for training before falling asleep herself.

When she wakes almost an hour later she finds that the pair of you had shifted in your sleep and she was now cuddled into your side. She looks up to find you wide awake. Your eyes were red and if Leila didn't know any better she would have said you've been crying.

"Are you ok?" Leila asks.

Your face drops and she realises it was a stupid question but for a brief moment she forgot about the events of the last couple of days.

"No Leila, i'm not ok"

She wasn't sure if you telling the truth hurt more than it would if you had lied.

"Is everything ok with you and my sister?" you ask. It was something that been playing in your mind. They looked ok on the outside but you thought Mapi would be a little bit mad at Leila for sleeping with you.

"Yes, we're ok"

"That's good"

A silence grows between you and whilst in the past is was comfortable, it now suffocates you. It was a reminder of just how much had changed.

"I suppose we better get ready for training" you nudge Leila a little bit so that you can get out of bed.

For the first time since arrived at Los Rojas Leila saw the damage she had caused. With you having just woke up you wasn't wearing the facade that everything was ok. She watched as you get ready, you didn't mind though, it wasn't like she hadn't seen it before.

Unbeknownst to Leila, her gaze had turned into a stare by the time you're dressed and in the elevator you feel Leila staring at you again.

"Stop staring Leila" you say without taking your eyes off the descending elevator floor numbers.

"I'm sorry Y/N"

"It's too late for apologies Leila. The damage has been done, all that we can do now is move on"

It sounded so simple as you said it and you hoped you sounded more convincing than you feel.

"Move on, right"

It was like a sucker punch to the gut. Leila had hoped that the two of you could work things out but it sounded like things were over and she had no one to blame but herself.

"Don't blame yourself Leila. We both knew the risks when we started sleeping together" you pat her shoulder before exiting the lift.

It seems like the entire team was waiting for you in the lobby before they went to the training fields. The glares that were sent your way didn't feel good but none burnt quite like your sisters. You looks towards her in in time to see her shaking your head and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what she was thinking.

"Don't eve--"

"Nice to see it didn't take you two long to return to old ways" Mapi beats you to it.

"Mapi" Alexia warns her.

"I don't appreciate you leaving me waiting for you in the gym" the blonde ignores her captain and continues her attack.

"What are you talking about? I don't want to be near you, never mind speak to you in private"

"But Lola said you wanted to see me"

"She lied. I didn't sleep last night so my guess is she told you that so that she could tell Leila to come to my room without you been a bitch about it"

"So you did sleep together" Mapi was been relentless and the team couldn't help but watch.

"You need to move on or you and I will be done. Do you understand?" your voice was low in order to keep your conversation private.

Mapi's stoic expression drops for a second but she soon recovers.

The room was in shock as they watched the interaction between the two of you. Over the years you and Mapi had fought but it never got this bad and they had never seen you this angry.

"You don't turn your back on family" Mapi shouts.

"You did it first"

Some of the coaches saw the argument in the lobby so they choose to keep you and Mapi separated for the training session but in doing so they paired you up with Leila. It was awkward at first but the two of you worked well on the pitch and it was nice to see that not everything has changed.

They're was one part of training where you couldn't avoid your sister and that was during the scrimmage at the end of the session. The aggressive style you both chose to play with meant that things got physical quickly between the two of you. Irene warned you and Alexia did the same to Mapi but it was a waste of time, you were out for blood and was treating the game like it was a world cup final. Even though you were battling on the pitch you did so in a save way, that is until you are clear on goal and you feel studs collide with your ankle. Despite the pain mounting in your foot you are up and in your sister's face within a matter of seconds.

"Really Mapi!" you shove her backwards "Was breaking my heart not enough for you? Do you want to end my career too?"

"I didn't break your heart Y/N. Don't stand there and act like the thing between you and Leila was anything more than sex. You're just angry that I called you out on it" Mapi steps forward only for Alexia hold her arm out making the defender stop in her tracks.

"You don't get it do you? You want to know why I didn't tell you?" you turn to face Leila "Do you want to know why I didn't tell her?"

"Because you were ashamed"

"Because I fell in love with you, not that it matters anymore" it took you a few days and one to many drinks with V to come to this realisation and it scared the life out of you. Of all the people, it was Leila who showed you what love was.

You could feel your emotions getting the better of you so when a stray tear falls down your cheek you are quick to wipe it away before leaving the pitch. This is why you didn't do relationships or feelings, it never ended well and you always ended up hurt.

A member of the coaching staff calls for training to continue whilst another follows you into the gym. By the time the rest of the team enter the gym you are working with the coach but in a separate area.

"Ladies listen up. I want you to pair up and work through the exercises on the board"

"What about Y/N?" Leila asks. In the camps previous the two of you had partnered up so it felt wrong you not being with the team even though she doubts you would want to work with her.

"Y/N is almost done and then she will be taking over Alexia's media this afternoon"

"That's not—“ Alexia is cut off.

"It was her suggestion"

That didn't exactly reassure Alexia. You hated media almost as much as she did so that fact that you'd rather spend your afternoon within journalists instead of the team spoke volumes.

The girls complete their workout and your revelation is not brought up once although a few looks are exchanged between Leila and Mapi. You being in love with Leila changed things and although she knows she had no right, Mapi feels her protective instinct for the first time since she found out.

A couple of hours later Lola is laid on her bed when she hears a knock at the door. She is quick to her feet hoping to find you on the other side of the door but that's not the case.

"Capitana, by all means come in" Lola jokes as Alexia is already through the door and inspecting your room "Y/N isn't here and before you ask I don't know where she is, haven't seen her since the workout"

Lola can tell that Alexia doesn't believe her but she was telling the truth. Within seconds someone else knocks at the door, this time it's Jenni, Irene and Aitana. The look of disappointment on their faces let's Lola know know that they too came to see you.

Mapi stands on the other side of your room. She can hear voices inside, one she doesn't hear is yours but that doesn't stop her from knocking.

"Well, well, well if it isn't my least favourite Leon" Lola says as she answers the door for the third time.

"I know I messed up, you don't have to remind me" Mapi says as she enters. She didn't know that you had such strong feelings for Leila, she just thought you were playing games and sister or not, she didn't want her best friend to get hurt.

"She isn't here" Jenni tells your sister.

"I know" this gets the attention of those around her.

"You know where she is?" Alexia asks.

"No but she isn't going to come back here" Mapi says as if it is obvious.

"Why not?"

"Because you’re all here"

What Mapi said made sense. Whenever something happened you craved peace and quiet, the type that only comes when you are alone but it didn't stop them from worrying especially when they noticed you left you phone in the room this morning. They had no option other than to wait for you to get back from wherever you had gone.

It was hard to find a place that nobody knew about when you attended national camp but last year you found an empty office that looked over the training field. It was peaceful and gave you time to think.

You honestly thought when you first slept with Leila that it would last a month, two at most and then the two of you would move on with your lives. Now almost a year later you have just confessed that you had fallen in love with her in front of the entire team.

When the door opens you don't move, you keep your back towards the person who has walked in. As far as you were aware only one person knew about this room and it was because you showed her it when you wanted a few moments alone where you wouldn't get interrupted.

"Everyone's looking for you" Leila takes a seat beside you but doesn't invade your personal space.

"Then they'll be looking for you too" you couldn't bring yourself to look at her. You feel stupid for feeling the way you do and you wished you could take back what you said. Not because you didn't mean it but because it stripped you of the walls you spent years building up.

Rightly or wrongly you move closer to Leila and rest your head on her shoulder.

"Who knew that night you seduced me would lead to this?" Leila was careful with the words she chose. It was a serious topic and the last thing she wanted to do was scare you away.

"Now we both knew it was you who seduced me. I was dancing innocently when you joined me on the dance floor, starting grinding on me, grabbed my hands placing one just near the hem of you skirt and the other one on your stomach so I could pull you close" that moment seemed so minor at the time but you remembered it as if it was yesterday.

"I surprised you remember, you were very drunk" Leila chuckles slightly and you know she is playing the moment back in her head.

"You were drunk Leila. I was stone cold sober"

"So you knew what you were doing?" Leila asked you. It always played on her mind, she thought you were drunk and wondered if you would have done the same thing if you were sober, now she finally has her answer.

"By the way you seemed to enjoy yourself that night I am offended that you would even have to ask" It was a cocky reply but you tone didn't match what you were saying and Leila picked up on it straight away.

"Y/N"

"Yes Leila I knew what I doing. I knew you were forbidden fruit but I slept with you anyways. I knew my sister would hate me but I didn't care. That night, and the many nights after, I made a decision one that I stand by because it brought some of the happiest times of my life even if those moments were mostly in the bedroom" you stand up and begin pacing the room, the weight of the situation was like anvil on your chest and you wasn't sure how much more you could take before breaking completely.

"But look where that got us Leila" you were admitting defeat.

"It got us us" Leila stood so she was at your level although due to the height difference she was a little bit smaller.

She cups your face giving you no other option than to look her in the eyes. It had been a few days since you had really looked at her and she was breathtaking. You succumb to her touch and she smirks slightly when she sees the affect she has on you, even now.

"You said you fell in love with me, did you mean it?" her hands drop to her side.

You take a moment to think about it. It felt right when you said it but in your eyes you were incapable of loving someone the way they deserved and in turn you didn't deserve their love but Leila made you question the possibility.

Was you in love with her? You aren't sure. What you are sure of is that you are the happiest when you are with her, that she is the first person you think of in a morning and the last person at night. When she is having a good day, you are too and when she is having a bad day, you will do everything in your power to make it better. You felt whole when your bodies are intertwined but did that mean you were in love with her?

Why did something so well known have to be so confusing?

"Y/N" Leila says bringing you out of your own head and back to the present moment.

"Leila I don't know what love is but when i'm with you it feels like what I imagine love to be"

It was the closest thing Leila was going to get to the 3 magic words and she knew it.

"I'm scared too Y/N" you didn't have to tell Leila, she understood how your mind works "Loving someone is scary and that's ok"

"But everyone—“

Public perception was something you always said you never cared about but now that they have opinions about something and someone you cared about, well it changed the way you thought.

"They will have their opinions and we can't stop them but at this point our team is full of couples so they don't really have a leg to stand on"

Leila had a point but their relationships didn't matter to you.

"But what—“

Your insecurities were beginning to get the better of you and the cracks in your confident persona were beginning to show.

"What if I were to say I have fallen in love with you?"

"Have you?" the concept of someone loving you seems absurd to you.

"I have. I love you Y/N and I know I messed up by telling your sister about us but I--"

Leila is cut off when you crash your lips into hers. You don't know what comes over you in that moment but you need her. She returns the kiss and it soon becomes deeper. You had kissed Leila countless times, this time was different. It's as if you let you heart take the reigns and it wasn't wasting any time in showing Leila just how much she means to you.

"What does this mean?" you ask after regaining your breathe.

"It means we both know what we want and we won't let anyone get in the way of that"

[cosmic-ghost-hermit]

Hey there friends! This reading is meant to be shadow work. The demon represents your shadow self or the parts of you that are rejected by you or others. The angel represents your higher self and the advice they have to integrates that shadow more. Please take what resonates and leave all that doesn't behind. Please be open to new perspectives, especially for this reading. Thank you so much for filling my ask-box btw i will do my best to make sure everyone gets their questions answered.

PILE 1

Crystal: Obsidian Chunk

Astrology: Aries ♈️, Capricorn ♑️, Sagittarius ♐️, Cancer ♋️

😈Demon/Shadow-Self: Bael (Emperor)

The demon on your shoulder makes you extremely powerful and capable of controlling of both yourself and others. It also make you a very hard worker and talented at multitasking. Hard work is important sometimes but it seems you overwork yourself a lot. That usually ends in loneliness and resentment. Even though it makes you a very reliable person to be around I see people abuse your skill to work hard. In the past people have use it as a time to slack off. Which has caused your shadow self to build tall walls around you. That is a lonely experience, my friend. This shadow reminds me of Tiana from Princess and the Frog. She works so hard and has no play.

✍️You: Ace of Wands

Your demon and angel work very well together. Your shadow self might need some attention from you and some trust put into it. You shadow is very useful and powerful. I think you might belittle it’s feelings though. Remember you aren’t alone and making yourself alone isn’t going to feel good. You can rely on others. The people you can’t rely on do not deserve your power. You are bright as a sun and have the ability to conjure everything from nothing. That is truly special and needs to be respected.

😇Angel/Higher-Self: Nanael (10 of Wands)

Your angel sees your shadow very clearly and has just the remedy for it. Your higher self instructs you to become an instructor. Instead of using your extraordinary energy levels to do more work. Use it to teach others how to do what you do instead of doing it for them. If they are unwilling to learn then they are not worthy of your time or your extra energy. Use that extra power on what you want. Your desires are in your grasp. You just have to allow yourself to make time for yourself and let go of taking card of people who do not appreciate you.

❤️‍🔥🖤🩶📌🧮✂️🐧🦏🧨🪓🥊🍷☄️🥀🍄🪨🕸️🕷️🦊⛑️🧣🥽💄

PILE 2

Crystal: Moss Agate Tower

Astrology: Libra ♎️, Scorpio ♏️, Gemini ♊️, Aquarius ♒️

😈Demon/Shadow-Self: Beleth (Knight of Cups)

Your demon is such a seductive energy. I see you might be bisexual or pansexual. They have the capacity to be romantic but definitely know how to jump ship. Mayb at one point you were a hopeless romantic. Your shadow has learned well how to tell when not to put on your rose colored glasses. Unfortunately, your shadow is struggling with commitment because of this behavior. They are scared to let your heart be free to love. Free to be loved. Your demon makes you run at the sight of true endearments because in your previous experiences it wasn’t true endearment even when it looked like it. Don’t you see your demon mirrors those who hurt you! Being played doesn’t mean you should become a player.

🤲You: 8 of Swords

My dear friend, you are safe. You are safe to be loved. You are afraid but there is nothing to fear. You fear is based on the past but you live in the now. You have access to all the true love you could imagine! Please don’t run away from people who care about you. You deserve kindness. You deserve endearment. You deserve what you heart craves so badly! Please allow yourself to be vulnerable. It is safe.

😇Angel/Higher-Self: Umabel (Ace of Swords)

Your higher self advises you to start being vulnerable with your friends first. Test out the waters of vulnerability with those you trust but do not lend your body too. Don’t just tell them about your hurt, cry with them about it. Show emotions with your friends. You have so many people around you who adore you and want to help you. Allow them to be your shoulder to cry on.

💙💜🩷🧿🔮🎀🫐🍆🍧🌊🪻🌷🦋🦄🦩🪼👾👄🧢🌂👛🚹🚺💖⚧️

PILE 3

Crystal: Aura Howlite Tower

Astrology: Taurus ♉️, Leo ♌️, Virgo ♍️, Pisces ♓️

😈Demon/Shadow-Self: Gremory (Empress)

Your demon my friend is a femme-fatale through and through. Your shadow uses feminine charm to get everything it wants. I think your problem is actually deciding what it is you desire. Your demon has every capability to receive anything. You just don’t know what that is because ‘anything’ is a lot of options. So many options can be very overwhelming. There is so much to choose! It could all be yours.

👋You: Page of Wands

Your demon and angel makes you feel untouchable but kind of overwhelmed. Having so much power at your fingertips is intimidating to you. You might have a little bit of imposter syndrome and think you aren’t as capable as you truly are. I also see you might feel extremely complex because your feminine charm isn’t a huge part of who you truly are. I see you could be nonbinary. Remember your femininity is only a part of you and not the whole picture. You can be so much more than a pretty face with honey soaked words.

😇Angel/Higher-Self: Habuhiah (9 of Cups)

Your angel wants you to know you are doing so well. They tell me you have been criticized or harmed for literally only being exactly what you were asked to be. Your higher-self has no advice for you besides you are perfect as you are. All you need to do is keep being yourself. Keep existing authentically and don’t give too much to people who wish to harm you.

♠️🖤🗝️🎥💻♟️🎮🕶️🤍☠️👻🎹🎧💬🎲🏳️💛🍯🍋🌻✨💫⭐️💜🪻🔮🟣😈👾🌂🍆💟

Thank you so much again for supporting me!

-ghost 🤍🩵🖤

[adventuretimeconspiracies]

Is Jake dead? Fionna and Cake ep.4

I think that the clear implication that the first four episodes of Fionna & Cake has given us is that yes, by this point in the story, Jake has died.

Our estimation based on Finn's current design is that it's been 15+ years since the finale.

Finn and TV talk about Jake's love for the Fionna and Cake books in the past tense. "He loved that series"

Bearded, depressed Prismo watches video of Finn and Jake, and Prismo tells Fionna and Cake that Ooo is special because it "had [his] favorite guy" (implied Jake)

F&C-era Finn has the Jake chest tattoo that was seen in Obsidian (which has been widely interpreted as an in memoriam gesture). But, importantly: Prismo's flashback at the beginning of F&C ep3 shows Jake and the chest tattoo coexisting simultaneously. So what gives? What do we know?

The circumstances of Jake's death are unknown--just, in Together Again it's confirmed that Jake's death preceded Finn's death, when Finn was an old, old man.

We're going to observe Finn's known designs in an attempt to narrow down at what point in the narrative Jake dies. Between Adventure Time and Obsidian? Between Obsidian and Fionna & Cake? After?

AT finale end credits montage: Finn and Jake welcome ships of humans to Ooo.

Obsidian: bearded but skinny Finn shows up to help out PB. The Jake tattoo is here.

Fionna & Cake flashback: medium beefiness, hair contained

Fionna & Cake modern age: buff boy fullbeard, full-Mertens mane.

And then there's Together Again, death-aged Finn.

With that established, let's return to what very little we know about Jake's death. The first scene of Together Again, features a monster-induced hallucination where Finn loses Jake "again". Curiously, Finn's design in this sequence is his familiar teenaged design from the main series.

So, with teenaged Finn losing Jake "again," should we conclude that Jake died while Finn was teenaged? No. It's a mistake to take Finn's appearance in this sequence at face value. For starters, Finn has both arms here. This is old Finn's nightmare, and in order for him to feel the pain of losing Jake again, it's required that he thinks he's experiencing a time in his life that he and Jake coexisted.

The "Not again" line is preceded by a quick flash to old Finn's actual face and surroundings. Old Finn is the one saying "not again", scrambling to hold onto the dream of hanging out with Jake in his youth. It doesn't mean that Finn was that age when Jake died. His arm is proof this sequence can't be taken at face value. Jake outlived Finn's arm. We know this.

Our next piece of evidence that Jake died before the events of Fionna & Cake is the existence of the Jake tattoo. But, again, Prismo's flashback at the beginning of F&C ep3 shows Jake and the tattoo coexisting.

Soooo........? Is the tattoo not actually a memorial tattoo? I'm pretty sure that events played on Prismo's screen are just straight up supposed to be taken at face value. The scenes are totally divorced from the linear timeline. In ep 4, when Prismo says Ooo is special because it "had" his favorite guy, we see this scene with Jake and teenaged Finn. This is clearly the past.

The evidence would seem to suggest that Jake dies somewhere before Obsidian. Finn got the memorial tattoo. He never appeared again. Everyone talks about him in the past tense.

But there's that one pesky scene on Prismo's screen where he's alive during Finn's 20-somethings, concurrent with the tattoo.

So I will posit a few theories to you:

No body, no death. Jake is alive. He's living in a different universe now and that's why Prismo says Ooo "had" his favorite guy. Now Jake lives in the Crystal Dimension with Lady Rainicorn but can return to Ooo from time to time. Remember: rainicorns are native to the Crystal Dimension. We've even pointed out previously a pretty undisputed fan theory that Crystal Dimension rainicorn pup descendants were featured in Graybles 1000+. It makes sense that Jake would seek a future there. And I don't think it's out of character that Finn would get that tattoo as a sign of devotion to Jake when Jake makes that big decision to set off on his own. Jake will die later.

Jake has become displaced from time and had an unspecified number of adventures in future eras. (i.e. Jake is extracted from the timeline before Obsidian and presumed dead, but then appears sporadically at other times throughout Finn's life, like in the scene shown on Prismo's screen). @uncivilizedelk posted a video analyzing the F&C intro and concludes that time shenanigans are probably incoming.

Theory 3 would be that Jake died via normal means after the scene on Prismo's screen but before the events of Fionna & Cake. And I'm sorry, but I don't buy it.

The whole thing screams red herrings and misdirections. I'd wager Jake appears alive at some point during this series in a large fan-pleaser moment.

Jake's death has been foreshadowed in this series for so long I just cannot imagine they'd let us off easy and have him die offscreen. We'll see it someday. Some way.

[mekanikaltrifle]

hi! (monster) and (wound) for juniper and/or dani?

Oh these are good choices and you're so right. Lemme just get my tunes on for these two powerful women (of varying friendliness quotients). Of course, when given two OCs I am gonna write for two OCs so watch out for a big ol' long post below lads :D

monster: Is your OC monstrous in any way? Is there something that makes them monstrous? Are they aware of their own monstrosity? Do they accept it or reject it?

Dani doesn't want to accept it. Objectively, she is monstrous; vampires are rarely considered human, after all, and she's already done horrific things even before she cut her fangs. Tearing a living, screaming human being into bloody viscera in a frenzy was something she wishes she could forget-- and she often lies and says she doesn't remember her 'first' frenzy at all let alone with enough clarity to recall butchering that man, but it's just that. A lie.

Dr Reyes doesn't kill people. The monster does. Dr Reyes is a good person. The monster isn't. But both are her. She's under no illusions that the thing riding her body when she's angry is her, part of her, and irredeemably so. She just wishes she could be dumb enough to play pretend like so many of the fucking Sabbat, acting like freedom will cure them of their guilt.

No Path will cure this, and no Road means anything. Freedom isn't throwing yourself away to play at being a monster just because it makes you nto want to tear your own fangs out of your head and run into a sunrise.

So, she works. She hasn't told her family what's happened yet and probably never will. They'll see her one last time and then she's keeping her distance forever. Her mortal friends died for some stupid Sabbat war, and she cured the vampires' plague when she could have just let them all die. But it'd have killed humanity too. She's going to work for however long she's got now to find the root of how vampires work, where their curses come from... and then she's going to try to alleviate the monster, one step at a time. Dani's going to kill this Beast with kindness, because it's hard, and it's the only way for her.

--

Juniper isn't a monster, as far as she knows. She thought she was for a while, lied to and misled by the Catholicism still in her head as a child during her very early days as a hunter. The Society of Leopold, and its Inquisitors, weren't sure what she was either.

Mortal, sure, with a heartbeat and breath and all the mortal concerns like needing to eat and sleep and other animal needs.

But mortals can't usually See, not with a burlap sack over their head and struggling to breathe properly through the layers of tape-- and yet, she can. She can see anywhere, in clear crystal clarity and she's sure as hell she's not one of those 'witches' the Inquisitors kept trying hunt. Monsters freeze in her gaze, and voices from beyond tell her what to do, and she's sure she's not a monster at all. She can speak a curse and deprive them of power, and stay awake for days on end, pushing the bounds of 'mortal' needs so clearly...

But how's a body supposed to reconcile with the fact that she's been through things that should kill a soul and come back swinging. Lived this long without stopping? Fought this hard, even when the world that was supposed to end didn't and there's still things out there killing people every night?

But there's no monsters out there, she thinks. Only people.

--

wound: How does your OC handle being wounded? Are their wounds mostly physical? Mental? Emotional? What's the worst wound your OC has ever experienced?

Dr Reyes, up until her Embrace, had not suffered huge injuries. Working on a digsite is often dangerous, even with all the best practice and safety procedures. She could lose track recounting all the times she'd hit a limb off rocks or slipped in mud and sand, caught her fingers on pieces of metal or tools she was using, and on one memorable occasion her best friend rolled over her foot with a pickup truck back home in Guadalajara when she was visiting her parents. And she's in good spirits about it all, telling you the story with her still-sunwarmed cheeks creased in laughter and her calloused hands gesturing all over the shop.

Since her Embrace though? She can count two worst ones so far, one physical and one mental.

The first, the physical, came during the scramble to end the blood plague. She and the other two were fighting vampires-- really strange, augmented vampires-- and one of them had arms that looked like scorpion-tails. Being unprepared to face something like this as a literal day-old fledgling Tremere, she fumbled the shot with her shotgun (something she's no good at using; she's not a firearms person), and subsequently took a blow full force to the centre of her chest.

This being a sharp barb propelled by inhuman strength, the whole thing went clean through her ribcage, and then pulled back out the way it came. Now, Dani is a survivor despite it all. But that was... startling, because if it had happened a mere two days before, she'd have died outright. It's have hurt, but she'd have simply died. But as a vampire she had to endure it, and not being able to speak let alone draw breath to cope with the pain of having a lung almost cleaved in two was not okay. She's grateful that the thing didn't pierce her heart, because that probably would have killed her, but she was not in the best fucking mood that day.

The mental? Now, that's a story.

Her Embrace was a brutal thing, a voyeuristic Tremere lab setup in which her friends couldn't do anything to help her other than watch through layers of sterile glass as her domitor-turned-sire drained her on order of their boss.

But right before it, the thing that brought her down, was a simple magical circle. Later she'd look it up in Tremere magical tomes and find it was a variant of the 'Ward Against Ghouls' sigil, built around her as she stood talking to her then-domitor Atlas. As Atlas struggled to tell her what they were about to do to her, she backed up, begging them not to. To reconsider. And then, she broke the outer line of the sigil on the floor and agony shot through her, strong enough that she can't even describe it.

In mechanical terms the sigil shattered through four of her seven health points in one second, dealing lethal damage, and if she'd not fallen to her knees in front of Atlas, it probably would have killed her from pain alone.

She still struggles to even comprehend what it was that happened. She's looked up the rituals and whatever else she can find, and now being part of the Tremere but not part of the Pyramid, it's not easy. But she just can't touch the memory of that second of agony without feeling like she's going to pass out.

--

Wounds are part and parcel of the job. Juniper takes them in stride as best she can, unless they damage her legs and then she does what she can sitting down.

She's been put to death's door a few times. Took minor scrapes. Come out of fights better or worse, sometimes with more her own blood than someone else's on her and vice versa. Usually they don't bother her more than the time it takes to patch the thing up and recover just long enough to get moving again. Does this mean she's scarred? Oh very much so.

The worst one, however? June has been through enough wounds by this point-- 17 years at the hunt and counting (as of roughly 2020-ish)-- that it'd be hard to truly quantify.

That said, the one wound she truly believes was going to kill her and still gives her pause to this day came during a team hunt back in 2007. She was called Junie then, or sometimes Bluebird, because she had all the grace and air of a newly fledged chick and bright blue dyed hair. A crew picked her up out of a truckstop in the middle of nowhere and she was grateful for the company. Ten-strong hunter squad, and confident for what they had going on. With nothing else to do, she offered to help and given most of them were Imbued like her, it was nice to be in likeminded company for a change.

What should have been a normal patrol became a bloodbath, one regular night. She's still not sure what happened, but the thing this crew were tracking wasn't a vampire, or a ghost or anything she was used to. It was... nastier. It could take minds and jump bodies and it managed to kill five hunters in two and a half minutes. The chaos had its benefits though; where the hunter next to her had her skull blown open at the eye socket, spraying everything with all that suddenly-wasted promise, Junie simply took a crossbow bolt to the ribs and collapsed.

The remainder of the crew, now only three people, came to the scene too late to save anyone but her, and she was not in good health. Junie of the time was not a huge bulk of a butch-- she was skinny, and still recovering from a bout of severe undernutriton during a stint homeless in Los Angeles. Put simply, her health was already poor. When the crew realised that the crossbow the monster had used was one of theirs, and therefore poisoned, they knew this was not a matter of 'if' it killed her, but 'when'.

She doesn't recall any of this point in her life with any clarity whatsoever, but knows she was deeply afraid, and very sure this was it. A pathetic death from being caught unprepared, for a young failure of a hunter. She wasn't ready for it. Something about the fear, which stuck even after they'd got a Redeemer with healing abilities to put enough life back into her she survived the worst... well, she suddenly had a very powerful motivator to get so big and untouchable that nothing would make her that afraid again.

So Juniper coped with it the only way she knew how: by getting meaner.

[kitkatt0430]

Alrighty, now that I've taunted my dog (mostly unintentionally) with popcorn, time for Episode #12 of the final season of the Flash.

Starts with a trippy recap of Eddie's breakdown as he finally remembers who he really is. Korber hanging out with him for now as the voice of reason which he rejects. She's got a point - he could be a clone or a cyborg.

Eddie - I need to find the Flash.

He's still keeping Barry's secret there. Anyway, this is how Westhallen can still win... *he has to find Iris when he starts to remember her, then has to find Barry after remembering him... Westhallen, Westhallen, Westhallen...*

When Korber tries to stop Eddie, the singularity from the S1 finale comes back briefly to eat her. That, uh... that made no sense. But, okay, moving on, opening credits time.

Khione and Iris playing telephone via Allegra. That's gotta be a bit annoying for Iris.

SF!Nora giving more exposition. 2049 must be when Eddie is since the N!SF is clearly gearing him up for the open avatar position and it's headed that way, dragging Barry along for the ride. How exactly killing the Barry Allen of 2023 in the year 2049 would destroy the timeline as it stands from 2000 to 2023 I have no idea, but it wouldn't be the first time they've had an evil plot that makes no sense nearly erase Barry from existence, so... *shrug*

So it's 2049 and everyone appears to have stopped aging. Cecile has a touch of gray hair in like... two small places. Maybe. Allegra's got a track suit as her super suit. I mean, better than a rainbow robe, but... she looks like she bought it at a sporting goods store.

Chester - Who would suspect Team Flash works under the Flash Museum? Cut to Eddie looking for Barry in the museum.

lol

Though, seriously, the museum was originally HR's idea. I miss him. It was a good idea. And I'm glad someone - Chester, I suppose - finally went through with it at some point.

Poor Eddie, finding out that his death didn't stop the Reverse Flash from returning while at the museum. Blonde!Nora who shows up to further screw with Eddie's mind is clearly the N!SF appearing for him. Not exactly creative, but the N!SF is showing Eddie something that's Barry's - a daughter he had with Iris - and saying 'what if this was yours? She should have been yours, after all.'

And there's the singularity again, created by the N!SF Nora. (So many Noras...)

I do love that real Nora recognizes Eddie on sight.

Allegra - Why is he here and why hasn't he aged a day? Me - You're one to talk. It's been about twenty-five years, you look like you're still in your twenties.

Eddie opening the singularities in moments of high emotion makes sense - I like the comparison to that time Chester was a black hole.

Eddie's expression when Nora's mask comes off... heartbreaking since the N!SF manipulated him into seeing her as his daughter first. He's having such a terrible day.

Meanwhile back at the ranch (2023), Mark professes his love of Barry Allen. I don't ship it.

Nora is the next victim of the N!SF's cobalt blue crystal of evilness. Which makes the most sense out of everyone it's possessed so far. Nora 1.0 actually used the N!SF at one point, which could be a point of vulnerability for Nora 2.0 since the N!SF has familiarity with her mind.

And of course, Nora's the perfect person to keep manipulating Eddie with - after all, just the image of her earlier was nearly enough to get Eddie to follow her into the singularity.

Past Cecile possessing her future self was nifty, but of course it goes wrong because of her confidence issues.

N!SF possessing Nora and harping on Eddie being forgotten by history despite how obvious it isn't he hasn't been forgotten. Not by the police force or Team Flash or by the people who loved him most. But I can also see why Eddie is struggling to see that - because it's hard feeling left behind, like they all moved on and had amazing lives and his stopped before he achieved all the things he wanted in his life.

Korber, the rookie, is Captain of the CCPD and maybe that's something Eddie wanted for himself when he was a Detective. He loved Iris and they were going to get married, but now she's married to Barry instead. Nora is representative of that relationship leading to at least one kid (where is Bart, anyway?) and the museum shows how Barry's legacy as the Flash has only continued to grow. For Eddie, everything stopped in a single moment, in a choice he can't take back but wishes he could.

With all that regret, it's hard for him to see how all the good he did do still lives on.

And Eddie is still trying to resist the N!SF's manipulations.

Barry arrives! Just in time for N!SF to use Nora to kick his ass. But Eddie interrupts and Barry runs off with Eddie. Soooo happy to see Eddie. HUGS!!!!

Look, seriously, this is how Westhallen can still win!!!

Eddie calls him Bar, I've missed that. (still chanting 'Westhallen' mentally, mmkay)

Eddie finally feeling safe enough to break down crying because Barry's there with him. He'd been looking for Barry because Barry would know what to do. And now, finally, he's found Barry and they start piecing together what's happening.

okay, so 2049 is when Jenna isn't gonna be living with Cecile and Joe anyway, so what's to say Joe isn't going back and forth between Central City and the other place with Cecile anyway? Cecile is freaking out over something she has no real context for. Though I think this backs up my comments from previous episodes where I noted Cecile would be happier if she'd left with Joe and Jenna and only commuted for her lawyer work.

Eddie - What if the only way for me not to die is to agree to be the avatar. Barry - no, we'll find a way to save you. Not letting you die again.

Eddie listening to the voices in his head instead of Barry. Oh, yeah, that'll go over well.

So, Eddie high on the N!SF's corruption sounds a hell of a lot like Eobard. Which brings me back to the question of whether Eobard is the way he is because the N!SF corrupted him or if the N!SF is the way it is because it patterned itself after it's creator. Clearly it's corrupting Eddie into being more like Eobard.

Barry vs possessed Nora is an awesome fight to watch. They're just playing tag all over the city.

Aww, "It's me. Your Eddie."

Iris with the gray in her hair. Why is she the only one allowed to age?

I mean... I get that artificially aging actors always winds up looking ridiculous, but not aging them makes it look like they found the fountain of youth. There has to be some kind of balance...

Eddie still wants to do the right thing at this point, even if it means dying again. He just wanted to see Iris one last time. But the N!SF takes advantage of that, causing him to see the picture change and... Eddie's real self gets subsumed by the corruption. Like a switch flipped.

Cecile finally got to be badass on screen. Finally.

So Iris saying it was always Barry is completely opposite of the choice Iris made in S1. I've said it before and I'll say it again. Iris choose Eddie over Barry in S1. Even knowing how she felt about Barry at the end of the season, she chose Eddie.

Denying that now insults S1 Iris' choice. It's making Iris say that yes, everyone knew better than her what her own feelings were. And as someone who has had people claim to know my feelings better than I do over and over again over the years, I really, really hate that. They weren't right with me and Iris should be allowed to say that she knew her own mind too. That she chose Eddie. But he died and she moved on and the life she has now is also one she chose. And one that she'll fight to keep because it's hers.

okay, so the timeline destructing finally makes sense, mostly

Barry - You're as beautiful as the day we got married. Iris - I haven't seen you like this in so long. It's weird.

*snicker* Though, uh, no one else has aged, so I wouldn't think 2049 Barry has either.

Oh, hey, there goes Barry getting yoinked through time again.

Eddie gets one final temptation and gives in to the crystal to deliberately open a singularity. Apparently to summon up four speedsters whom Barry defeated before. The ghosts of failed speedsters past, or whatever.

Thus endeth the episode.

I'm not sure how well Eddie's feelings of entitlement towards Iris actually work for me? I mean... in S1, the person who acted the most entitled towards Iris was... Barry. And Barry's grown up a lot since then. I mean, Eddie's mind screw works pretty well over all, but it wasn't in S1 Eddie to force Iris to be with him if that isn't what she wanted. And that should be where the N!SF fails with Eddie and has to backtrack. That it's where it succeeds instead...

It kinda feels like they're slamming an Eddie shaped puzzle piece into a picture that it doesn't actually fit.

I am still wondering what's up with the blue flowers. O_o

I think I'm also disappointed that the Cobalt Blue we seem to be getting is in name only.

We've got the Cobalt Blue Crystal of EVIL which just... possess people. Eddie seems to have power over the singularities, which he likely received with the accelerator exploded but weren't triggered until his death.

Cobalt Blue, however, had the power of the Thawne family blue flames. These could heal, create temporary objects from the flames, or temporarily steal powers from other metas. Malcolm used those powers to attempt to steal Barry's speed at least once, though there was a gem involved in that so the N!SF's crystal is likely a reference to that. But overall... this isn't really Cobalt Blue we seem to be getting. And I'm not surprised given what spoilers I've seen, but I'm still bummed about it.

One episode left to go.

[semi-imaginary-place]

ffxiv 5.3 + role quest finale

lol ryne and alisaie are so short.

yeah got spoiled on azem like immediately. wow eli was there for the hades fight and didn't even help hades. like bro we were dying you totally could have sniped us. oh hey g'raha is glowing and more crystallized. you can also clearly see the different in the face crystal which is a blue texture that doesn't have any of the light qualities of actual crystal. bro's getting eaten alive by the tower. bro you are permanently turning to crystal from overwork, that's a big deal. your last plan was to kill yourself, im not thrilled about your new secret plan.

why the hell is the scions room pitch black. why the spendor's kitchen i don't want to owe rowena nothing, and there's literally a kitchen on the other side of the wall in the bar

the sharlayans have british taste buds. there's fish in the bread! that could be good actually like shrimp crackers and fish cakes are tasty but like european style bread? weird.

yeah they went wild with the metaphysics with the crystal exarch. I assume he's not having aetheric instability because either his summoning/travel method is different or the tower is stabilizing him.

i was thinking about this earlier thicc souls and if the pieces must always add up to 14. because with g'raha now there might be 15/14 pieces of his ancient, which means that with timetravel theoretically there could be infinite pieces of an ancient, like if someone pulled a xehanort 13 seekers. that or timetravelling g'raha pulled essence from all the existing pieces in this timeline. there's also nothing to say that everything must be in 1/14 sized pieces, via dharmic tradition maybe that dog has 1/124489 an azem piece. and let's be real the writers are making it up as they go and remake the story pieces previous writers put down. so in the end it doesn't matter. it'll whatever the newest batch of writers want it to be.

the devs are pushing the idea that the two g'raha's are the same person but I don't think it's so simple. They do line up in that their memories do not contradict each other. up until the sealing of the crystal tower their memories are the same (assuming this actually is a diverging timelines situation), after that one g'raha's memories end the other's continues 100 ish years on the First. Which then brings up the nature of souls in ffxiv which the writers probably don't know and even if someone wrote something down the next batch would just ignore that. because if you think of memories like percentages the g'raha that lived as the crystal exarch has many more memories than the sleeping g'raha. Would he erased when the two are merged, overpowered by the g'raha that experienced so much more? Now I do think both g'raha's would agree to the merging but it's something to think about. or what if they had conflicting memories. what if g'raha never went to sleep, how would they merge?

ardbert actually hive minded.

this is all very theatrical would have assumed emy not eli, playing out the pc's entire journey in amurot. almost ran into the time limit like 1 min on the clock, should have a longer duration than 30min

salvation of what because from emy there was the assumption that salvation of the first and of the ancient world were mutually exclusive. oh it's the concept of salvation in general.

He's avoiding the question! see yashtola understands how to always be on the offensive (the alliance could learn from her). also yeah remember when minfilia got absorbed by hydaelyn. what makes a person, how much do they forget before they become someone else. does it matter? im on eli's side here if that is how he wishes to exist then so be it.

but that's 12 star crystals where's the other 2. i wonder which one is the pc's. how do you know about the promise. then again there were other onlookers and this who place is hades' magic

thinking very hard. were those crystals used to induct the black mask ascians? and which friend was it that made the defector's crystal. we're summoning ancients??? more thinking.

the new writers gave us an explanation for why ascians were bwahaha-evil-ing in hauke manor! arr was just the last cycle of eli drumming up fake problems to raise up warriors of light. feeding a desire for salvation which in turns feeds him. that works pretty well given the arr writers didn't know what the ascians deal was they needed cackling evil mysterious guys.

interesting dungeon. plays a lot like a instance. what is which these new dungeons and jumping off cliffs. hey boss man, if berserker doesnt work out for you, you can try stripping. why does every hit these days give vuln stacks i miss satansha.

im.. soo. eeypy... i dont even understand why things are happening anymore. when will the cutscenes end

i'd say why flee where the army is but they probably didn't want to destroy the city. ohh using the crystal exarch's blood, eli can also pass the summoning toll onto him. if eli got what he wanted why are they out in the woods

im getting war flashbacks of the years spent trapped in the crystal tower raids.

hey ardbert is talking to us.

I'd say I'm disappointed by not having a more nuanced elidibus take but this is pretty par the course for ffxiv writing. like there's something delightfully existential about someone forgetting why they're doing something but still feeling compelled to do so. but ffxiv is determined to tell a story of heroes and villians. who else are we suppose to have a cool fight with? so as tragic or sympathetic as the villains are in shb they will always remain in the wrong and the pc in the right. his memory loss is treated as a sort woe on him how pitiful and like yeah but they could have done more with that. like this is another sacrifice for the good of the world and unlike emet-selch (and the ascians plan in general) of sacrificing all life on the rejoined source, elidibus' memories and personhood is a sacrifice of the self in the same way the pc, ardbert and co, minfilia, ironworks, and the crystal exarch's sacrifices were of the self instead of others. but the latter's sacrifices are framed as righteous and good, and elidibus' delusional, desperate, and wrong. if one is noble so too if the other. see this is why i like og nier and hnk both the protags are in the wrong (well hnk has no right and wrong good and bad everything is soup)

emy came and saved our asses with his gay little hand wave

eng cut out his "my... promise", i was trying to do like 3 things at once. but something about a sad smile? "it's a shame you won't be able to see it", or something like that. well that's the last paragon/ancient. bye bye.

crystal exarch: he's in the trailers i know what happens to him. but let's ignore that for a moment, take the broader look. It actually have been better for him to remain on the First. He's an effective leader, and more so everyone knows and loves him. the crystarium isn't in world ending crisis anymore they don't need him but they'd do well with him. All his connections are on the First. This could have been his chance to take down the metaphorical hood in addition to the physical one and actually let people in (i still think his 100 year "disguise" was ridiculous had a better chance of telling the pc's he changed beyond reckoning, wouldn't have worked either but it'd be less work). What's waiting for him on the Source are people who have said goodbye to him and who he has not seen in the 100 years he's been awake + how ever much time passed in the doomed timeline. Also the other G'raha. So what lays in the First for G'raha is the known and the Source is possibility, dreams. And after how many centuries of choosing duty he chooses to be selfish which in turn tilts xiv and shb in particular on the side of individualism over collectivism. especially in contrast with the ancient and amurot and the ascians eli and emy which were collective over the individual.

through all this i totally forgot how that spirit vessel is suppose to work. my best reconstruction of events is that unlike the scions who kinda don't have bodies, g'raha does and so he mostly only stores his memories in the test run, that's why he didn't drop dead there. And then as he's crystallizing he stores his soul too.

back to being a little sleeping (not actually) prince. (ok this part annoys me with people saying he's descended from allegan royalty. no he's not the last princess modified her servant's body with her blood. there's no lineage connection between g'raha and the allegan royal line.

why is the pc able to just hop between shards? i don't remember.

there's another theme for the counter. the devs have been very clear that the whole time travel plot point was about hope.

yeah how's ryne feeling about all her friends leaving. i should do the eden raids.

you're so right, g'raha would love that

so ardbert is just like fully conscious in there. congrats on getting a roomie pc. slaps roof of wol this baby can fit so many personalities in them. it's not a take my magical strength, nah he's still there. actual hivemind. fellas is it gay to have a man inside of you, your two souls merged together, and you are now living together within one shared body.

uh i think in ardbert's case it's a bit more literal

hroth men really won shadowbringers. radovan is adorable and so is runar.

i get like the narrative significance of doing ryne last but we started with alisaie so this is a lot of backtracking across the continent. im never getting over the slutty miner shirt. has ryne got her living expenses in order, a steady job?

oh yeah the scions all came to the first nakey and are going to leave a pile of clothes/

nu mou tails are so cute. i hope we labeled whose crystal is whose.

speaking of hiveminds. the ethics of merging with your alternate timeline self that's in the past. at least they dont have overlapping memories. we could have had 2 if the plot happened differently. older g'raha also has his body, we really could have had 2 at the same time. i don't think it'd be better narratively but it is interesting to think about

look at all that animation money. asashi is malding so bad right now. and zenos does not care, he was done before this started.

how did tataru break the unbreakable crystal tower like ironworks and tried and failed to even chip it

.

yay we're back to unhaikal or whatever his name is. it's jarring how different the writers are

are the scions just ok that a little ascian apprentice that's been hanging out in their headqurters since hw.

if they need corporeal form how has cylva been hanging out on the first for 100+ years and all the time since the 13th fell?

we don't even explain anything too poor beq lugg, we don't deserve them

i still don't understand what they mean by the two boys being oddly similar. is it because both spent time in the void, aprox similar age? If Taynor starts aging again he's going to outgrow uny very quickly

[artificialqueens]

If we're sinners then it feels like heaven to me, 1/2 (Daya x Jasmine) - Ashley

Daya believed she had found her calling when she signed on as captain of her University's first netball team. Authority over what position she played in? Control of the music at training? An excuse to expel the unbridled rage that came with being a second year STEM student? She had all the ingredients for a perfect year.

It's just a shame she missed the part of the recipe where the human equivalent of a fog-horn got promoted to her team and Daya's job became that extra bit harder.

So I remembered how to write???? Many thanks to Winter and Veronica for the help with this one. I hope you all like it and please let me know if you do xo

wrath - uncontrolled feelings of anger, rage, and even hatred

When Daya had agreed to captain her University’s first netball team, she couldn’t deny how excited she was.

She’d never been the best at logistics but Daya figured she’d have no problem planning out strategies and managing the rest of the girls. Yes, she knew how to raise her voice but she also had no problem taking a step back when it was needed to keep their energy right.

Daya had all the skills to be a great leader for the firsts and was feeling pretty damn good about it.

Or at least she was until Jasmine Kennedie got promoted from the seconds and Daya suddenly had to work around the fact that their new Goal Attack was the human equivalent of a foghorn.

Of course, this had its benefits. Daya always knew when her teammate was open for a pass - plus she couldn’t deny that it was nice to have someone constantly cheering from the bench if they had too many players (even if she was ninety-nine per cent sure that Jasmine sometimes screamed intending to agitate Daya rather than encourage her). And Jasmine was a good player too, so good that Daya included her in basically every starting seven they’d had that year.

It just so happened that Jasmine’s fog horn mentality managed to manifest itself off the court as well, driving Daya absolutely fucking insane.

Especially during an almost three-hour-long coach journey.

“You coming for drinks and a kiki when we get back?” Jasmine plopped herself down next to Daya, clearly ignoring the fact Daya had placed her bag on the chair specifically so this wouldn’t happen.

“Thanks, but I’m busy,” Daya replied, knowing full well she had absolutely zero plans when she got home besides pestering Crystal to go to the shop with her to replace the entire tub of ice cream she’d eaten the night before during a Married at First Sight watchathon.

Daya had figured it wasn’t such a bad idea really, shacking up with someone you’ve never met so you can have your shot at finding someone, get your entire wedding paid for and piss off your parents in the process. She’d have signed up herself if there wasn’t such a high chance she’d end up partnered with someone with the exact opposite mindset to her.

She already had to put up with one of those every Monday, Wednesday and Saturday and it was safe to say it wasn’t going so well.

“Had a feeling you would be.” Jasmine rolled her eyes before starting up again, ignoring Daya’s clear indifference to their conversation. “We played well today, I thought. Honestly, I know I always play well but I was impressed with you in that third quarter. When the ball went under your legs and you scooped it back up like some sort of crazy octopus lady, I was living. And that girl you were marking looked so pissed off too, I thought she was gonna get violent.”

“An octopus lady?” Daya turned her head, not even bothering to inflate Jasmine’s ego anymore by acknowledging the part of that nonsense that referred to her own performance.

“Yeah, 'cause you’re all tall and you’ve got those long gangly arms. It’s a good thing, trust me.”

Daya wouldn’t have trusted Jasmine to make a bowl of super noodles in the microwave if her life depended on it. 

“You do know I can bench you next game if you keep comparing me to sea creatures, right?”

“Yes. But I also know that our next game is against Marys and last time you lost against them cause their defence is really good. You wouldn’t dare.”

It was one thing when Jasmine annoyed Daya when she was wrong, spouting out her stupid opinions about games as if they were facts and expecting everyone else to follow her streams and streams of nonsense as though they were gospel.

But Jasmine was often a lot smarter than Daya gave her credit for.

And she found herself a thousand times angrier when the other girl was right.

It was an undisputed fact at this point that she couldn’t stand Jasmine Kennedie.

But the one thing she couldn’t stand even more was not winning.

“Are you saying that Angie’s not good enough to play as Attack against them?” Daya poked, certain that Jasmine wouldn’t dare imply a bad word about the team’s most beloved player.

“Not at all. I think Angie’s incredible but you should put her as Wing.”

“Because you’re so much better in Attack?”

“‘Cause I think me and you make a better team.” Jasmine raised a brow, catching Daya off-guard. “You work ten times harder when we’re next to each other.”

“That’s out of irritation, not teamwork.” Daya pulled her phone out of her pocket and opened Spotify to give herself something else to look at, red in the cheeks after accidentally admitting to her biggest foe that she’d been trying her hardest to impress her.

“Exactly. I annoy you, you try harder to get the ball off me so you can score. Then I get it in when you miss. We’ve got synerg-eye.”

“It’s synergy,” Daya corrected.

“I know.” Jasmine pulled her hair out from her bun and threw her head back, letting it splay across the seats and onto Daya’s shoulder in what could only be described as a pure act of territorialism. “It’s just I forgot my headphones and I figured if I annoyed you enough you’d give me one of yours to shut me up.”

“Anything for a second of peace.” Daya handed the right half of the wire over, shuffling closer so it could reach Jasmine’s ear.

“None of that pop-punk shit again though. I’m still traumatised after last time.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.” Daya scrolled through her playlists, undoubtedly looking for the least-Jasmine thing she could find despite knowing the other girl would buck her way through absolutely anything she managed to put on anyway.

“You’re the one that wants me to shut up, aren’t you?”

Daya wondered how badly injured she’d be if she threw herself out the fire door at the back.

Not that any level of injury would be worth the smug look on Jasmine’s face knowing she’d won their little battle.

“No pop-punk it is.” Daya scrolled some more until she found the perfect song to start their journey, unable to keep her grin contained once the familiar beat kicked in and Jasmine realised just what she was doing.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that.”

“Oh, I know.” Daya closed her eyes, wondering how many other ways she could tell Jasmine Kennedie that she loathed her in song form.

Or how many times she’d have to queue Aretha again ‘til the feisty blonde gave her captain some of that good-old, well-earned respect.

envy - resentful longing aroused by someone else's possessions, qualities, or luck.

“Sorry, I’m late.” Jasmine plonked herself on the seat next to Daya, letting her bag thud dramatically on top of all the sheets and posters Daya had spent the past thirty minutes rearranging. “Jorgie said she’d give me a lift but she couldn’t bring herself to get out of bed after last night.” 

“Jorgie told me she had plans!” Daya grabbed the bag and placed it on the floor between them, rolling her eyes at her teammates' audible gasp.

Jorgie wasn’t the only person who told her she was busy, Daya having asked every single other member of the team if they were free to run the stand with her before turning to Jasmine. Heck, she’d even tried to convince her own housemates to join her regardless of the fact that they were the least sporty people she’d ever met in her life, nevermind at Uni (just a week earlier she’d caught Crystal ordering an Uber to their college bar, a building you could literally see from their upstairs bathroom window).

Willow was nearly on board until Daya let it slip that she hadn’t exactly exhausted all of her options.

“You wouldn’t want her here anyway, she looks like she’s been dragged through a hedge backwards. Besides, I’m clearly the best person for the job. If I’m being really honest I don’t know why you’re here.”

“Because I’m the Captain?”

“Yeah but you’re also terrifying. We’re supposed to be convincing people to join our team, not scaring them away. We need people who are personable, like me.”

“I’m not terrifying,” Daya protested, fully aware that she was turning into the lady who doth protest too much (a role in which, if she really thought about it, she found herself playing every single time she got stuck in conversation with one Jasmine Kennedie). “No offence, but I think I’m plenty more personable than you.”

“Well, let’s see who can get more people to sign up than, shall we?”

It was just Daya’s luck that Jasmine stormed miles ahead in their race, managing to secure an entire two-thirds of the names on their list despite the fact she’d taken a fifteen-minute break to go call Angie on the phone and, in her words, not Daya’s, spill all the tea from the night before.

“All I’m saying is that this means nothing yet. I bet half of these girls will turn up to training and not even know how to throw a ball.”

“How d’ya know they’re any better than the people you got?” Jasmine prodded the sheet with her pen. “One of the girls I got used to play for her county, she should be worth like three points.”

“All I’m saying is there’s a difference between flirting with someone until they sign up and  genuinely finding someone who wants to play netball. And I think you’ll find I’ve been focusing on the latter.”

“Only because you don’t know how to flirt.” Jasmine chuckled.

“Says who?” 

“Me.” Jasmine paused to smile at some girls walking past, Daya far too invested in her teammate's comments to even care about recruiting anymore. “Don’t make me remind you about the Captain from St Veronicas. Your face turned all red and your voice went up about five octaves when she asked for your number.”

Daya was shocked that Jasmine even remembered that, a fleeting moment on their way out from a tournament that Daya had been trying to forget ever since.

There was yet another reason to add to her list of why Jasmine was the most irritating person on the planet. Because apparently, regardless of the fact she’d once forgotten to bring their kit bag to training and they had to spend their hour booked on the court playing British Bulldog and What Time Is It Mr Wolf, Jasmine had the long-term memory of a fucking elephant.

“She was only asking so we could organise a friendly match at the end of term.” 

“Really? Cause I don’t remember ever such a match taking place.” Jasmine rubbed her chin, playing right with Daya’s pride like it was play-doh in her hands.

“Scheduling conflict,” Daya lied, knowing that she would never hear the end of it if she admitted to Jasmine that she’d ignored the other girl’s texts.

If there was one thing Daya did not wish to discuss with Jasmine, it was her love life. Or more specifically, the fact she managed to find something wrong with every girl who had tried anything with her that year (she could still hear Crystal screaming at her in their living room because Daya said the girl she’d pulled on Bank Holiday was too nice for her to put up with).

“Hey, she goes to Trans Soc.” Jasmine pointed to a girl across the way from them, Daya grateful for the change in conversation until she actually saw the girl.

Or more specifically, saw how Jasmine saw the girl.

“She’s so tall, she’d make a great addition.” Jasmine started waving frantically like a kid trying to get their parents' attention in a school play. “Bosco!”

“Just because you’re tall doesn’t mean you’re good at netball, Jasmine.”

“Then what do we need you for?” Jasmine muttered through a clenched smile as the girl made her way over.

She was tall, of course (but not quite as tall as Daya. If she’d been just an ounce more childish she’d have found an excuse to stand up and prove it but figured it was probably best not to). And gorgeous too, long black locks flowing down the back of her head like she’d just stepped off the front of a L’Oreal box.

Jasmine looked like she wanted to pounce on her then and there and if Daya was being honest, she couldn’t blame her.

“Jasmine,” the girl purred (like, literally, purred). “Didn’t expect to see you looking all fresh and nice after last night.”

“Not gonna lie, I felt a bit seedy this morning,” Jasmine giggled (a fake laugh that she used whenever she was trying to impress anyone - somehow more annoying than her real one, which Daya had managed to mistake for choking at least three times on the coach that term). “But I’ll do anything for my Captain.”

Except actually speaking to anyone who wanted to play netball, apparently.

“You wanna sign up?” Daya gestured to the sheet, anything to break up the intense eye-fucking taking place over her bowl of Tesco’s finest cookies. “We’re having tryouts next week.”

“Not sure if netball is really my thing. Team spirit and all that, bit too much for me.”

“You could always write your number down anyway, you know, just in case you change your mind? Would always be good for us to have it.” Jasmine handed the pen to her friend, grinning like an idiot when her charm actually managed to work.

Daya didn’t know whether to give her a pat on the back or a slap across the face once the girl had bid her farewell.

She settled for a dirty look instead.

“What? She’s hot.”

“Correct,” Daya admitted. “But there is no correlation between how hot you are and how good you are at playing netball.”

“I dunno. I think between the pair of us it’d be hard to find any evidence against that theory.”

Daya inhaled the crumbs of the cookie she was eating in shock, reaching for her water quickly in hope that Jasmine didn’t clock her reaction to being called hot.

A compliment she’d never expected to hear from Jasmine’s lips for starters.

Even if she was complimenting herself in the process.

“Okay, so you only got her number for netball purposes and you’re deffo not gonna text her later then?”

“Depends.” Jasmine shrugged her shoulders, grabbing one of Daya’s cookies only to take the smallest bite in existence then set it back down on the table. “Maybe I just did it to annoy you.” 

Daya took a cookie for herself to put an end to their conversation.

After all, she knew there was no point denying that Jasmine had succeeded in her task, she was obviously thrown and too proud to even try and argue otherwise.

Jasmine’s flirting at the fair had well and truly rattled her cage.

Perhaps, for more reasons than one.

pride - the putting of one's own desires, urges, wants, and whims before the welfare of other people

After captaining the firsts for the past six months, Daya had seen some sights.

From Jorgie turning up to training in the middle of winter in a tiny pair of shorts and a sports bra to grab the attention of the men's volleyball team practising next to them to Camden pretending to fall over then bouncing back up in a (surprisingly successful) attempt to lose the girl marking her, Daya knew their team was glued together with affection, chaos and duct tape.

She’d grown to expect surprises and had learned not to even blink when one of her girls did something out of pocket.

Yet she found herself knocked for six by none other than Jasmine Kennedie. Unable to find anything compelling to say after the other girl, who’d just spent their entire coach journey belting Fifth Harmony in a pitch Daya had only ever heard within cringe X Factor compilations, came up to her before their match had even started asking to be benched.

“Just take my bib and give it to someone else, I can get you water and snacks for if your sugars get low.” She thrust the bib into Daya’s hands and walked away.

“I have water and snacks.” Daya caught up with her as she left the hall, the cold outside making the hairs on her arms stand up. “This is the biggest match of the year and now you’ve suddenly decided now that you can’t be bothered to play?”

“It’s not that,” she snapped back. “And besides, you’re the one always saying I’m not as good as I think I am.”

“Are you really doing this so I can pay you some compliments, Jasmine? I put you in our starting lineup every single game and I’ve voted you as player of the match at least ten times this term. In fact, I think the only time I didn’t was as a joke because June went a whole hour without losing an item of clothing. You know I think you’re amazing or I wouldn’t be here, begging you to play right now.”

“You’ve voted for me every time?”

“You know you’re good, Jasmine, or you wouldn’t even be here right now because frankly, you’re the most annoying person I know.”

The air turned heavy between them, Daya regretting the words the second they came out of her mouth. It was something she said a thousand times, both to Jasmine’s face and when she wasn’t around (she was pretty sure Willow had started a tally on their whiteboard at home for how often Daya twisted a normal conversation to be about Jasmine). But that time felt different, the other girl scrunching her nose before bending down to sit on the curb.

Daya squatted down next to her.

“That was harsh.” Daya broke the silence. “I didn’t mean it.”

“You did.”

“Maybe a little.” Daya tried to catch Jasmine’s eyes but she turned away. “But I didn’t mean it like that. I just want you to play, is all.”

“They said I shouldn’t,” Jasmine muttered.

“What?”

“The girls from Rowling.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t want you to play if I was them either. Unless they enjoy being red in the face fifteen minutes in.”

“I was going to the vending machine to get you some snacks. I know you said you already have some but I am absolutely terrified you’re gonna pass out in the middle of a match after that one time you got all trembly at training. It really grossed me out so I normally get some extras just in case. But then they were there getting some drinks in front of me and I overheard them. They said…” She trailed off. “They said it was unfair.”

Oh.

Daya’s first thought was anger, wanting to go up to the stupid girls who Jasmine had overheard and introduce them to her size nine New Balances that just so happened to be covered in about two inches of mud from her run the night before.

And if that didn’t get the message across, then she had a few choice words for them too. The type of words that had made Crystal introduce a Swear Jar in their house to train Daya’s potty mouth for job interviews and save up some money for their trip down South too (Daya would have made it all the way across the Channel with the amount she’d have to add for the Rowling girls. Shame she didn’t know how to say ‘absolute fucking cunts’ in French).

But when she looked over at Jasmine, quiet as a mouse perched on the edge of the curb, all that wrath evaporated away and she just felt completely and utterly heartbroken.

“They’re wrong.” Daya touched her arm. 

It was something she’d done a thousand times. On the bus when she wanted a swig of Lucozade and didn’t want to make a fuss asking anyone else if they had anything else. During training when they practised gameplay, Jasmine screaming ‘contact’ as if she was an umpire the second Daya’s hand would go near her to make them start the whole drill all over again. Or in the library earlier that week, when Jasmine and Jorgie made the wise decision to sit opposite her and gossip about the girl Jasmine had pulled on their last social ‘til Daya was practically forced to tap on her arm and tell them to shut up like the Karen they’d turned her into.

But she prayed this time was different, that it would tell Jasmine all the things running through her mind.

Tell Jasmine they were wrong and she really, fucking meant it.

“You know they’re wrong. They’re just saying it ‘cause they know they couldn’t beat you even if they trained for another fifty years and they’re insecure about that.”

“Isn’t that their point?” Jasmine raised a brow.

“You’re not good at netball because you're trans, Jasmine.” Daya squeezed her arm. “You’re good at netball because you’ve spent an annoying amount of years training to be good. Plus, you have more energy than a staffie on acid. That’s the only concerning thing happening here.”

“I know that,” she replied. “I know they’re wrong but they don’t. And they’ll only say it more if I play. Just play someone else and I’ll come in and cheer for you when I’m ready, okay?”

Camden arrived before Daya could protest anymore, letting her know that the umpires were ready to start and she needed to be on court within the next few minutes unless they wanted to be disqualified.

“I’ll see you in there.” Jasmine nodded at Daya to go. “Winning.”

“That is what we’re good at,” Daya replied, a statement which felt quite sour in their third quarter when Rowling scored yet another goal, leaving the firsts three points behind despite Jorgie’s insane jumps in defence and Camden’s solid play at centre.

“Don’t go to that place,” Angie spoke hastily before she made her way back to position, raising her eyes at Daya like she was her sulky teenage niece who needed telling off.

“I’m literally choking,” Daya replied, knowing full well they would have normally scored another five goals by this point and that loss had nothing to do with Angie’s performance.

An observation which was then solidified in the rest of the quarter as Daya not only got called up three times for footwork but also managed to throw the entire weight of her body into the goalpost at one point.

In fact, she was getting so used to the whistle being blown at her that she automatically jumped back and put her hands by her sides ready to give a free pass when it was blown at the end of the quarter.

She’d be hearing that whistle in her fucking dreams that night.

“Hey.” Daya made her way over to Jasmine as the rest of the team grabbed their water.

“You know, you’re not doing as bad as you think you are, you just gotta get focused. You’re playing really fast and making these big overhead passes but if you just slow it down and get some sneaky ones in there you can catch up. Plus, you know, if you manage to stay on your feet.”

“Do you remember what you said to me the first time we met?”

“What? I’m trying to talk to you about the game.”

“Do you remember?” Daya repeated herself, earning a head shake from Jasmine. “You said that you couldn’t wait to train with us every week and I called you cocky because it was only a trial and nothing was guaranteed.”

“Well, of course, I remember that.” Jasmine rolled her eyes, cracking up the start of a smile.

“You told me you weren’t cocky, you were proud. And your mum told you since you were a little kid that you’ve always gotta be proud and put yourself first. Now please go take your bib back from Alyssa.”

“You’re never normally this nice to me.”

“Because normally I don’t have to convince you to fuck what anyone else thinks and be yourself. And for once, I’m not feeling too proud to admit that I need you.” Daya reached a hand out to her. “Synergy?”

“I believe it's pronounced synerg-eye.”

“I’ll let you call me fucking Dayie if you help me destroy some assholes for the next fifteen minutes.”

With that, Jasmine took her hand.

“‘Lyssa! Dayie-boo says I can have your bib.”

“I’m gonna regret this, aren’t I?

“One-hundred percent.”

But she didn’t at all. Not when Jasmine came onto the pitch and immediately wormed around her marker to snatch the ball for their first pass. And not when she and Angie manoeuvred their way back down to the D, Daya’s arms ready in the air as Jasmine passed from the right and helped them secure that first goal back.

Then the next one and the next one and the one after that too til the pair of them had scored another five between them and secured themselves the win.

Not even when Jasmine plonked herself down next to her on the coach, exclaiming that she was changing Daya’s nickname in their group chat and there was nothing she could do to stop her.

“As long as you stop calling me that once we get to the pub,” Daya laughed, pulling her own phone out to immediately make sure Jasmine didn’t have admin access in their chat to make the change either way.

“Oh my god, you’re actually coming to the pub with us?”

“Yeah. I reckon I need something down my throat to make me forget that I fell into the fucking goalpost in front of everyone.”

“It was kinda impressive, to be honest.”

Daya passed a headphone to the other girl who popped it into her ear with no hesitation, their heads moving in close together out of second nature.

“Plus, I think I might owe one of my girls a drink.”

[cafecourage]

The moment they realized they loved you. (Isekai Au Edition) Part 1

Because this was my first time doing this I went a little crazy. If you want more information on this AU here is the Link!

Time:

- It had been welcomed with open arms.

- You two are literally the opposite but also very similar. Time is calm and stoic. You are chaotic and loud. But both of you are very cryptic.

- You’re the only person in the kingdom of hyrule currently that remembers what he had gone through. He feels like he can trust you with anything.

- It’s started with a slip up by wind and just spiraled out of control.

___________________________________

Time was discussing the groups inventory with Twilight and Wild when it happens. A small slip of the tongue followed by a laughter that could be mistaken as a fairy chime. He looked over to see your bright smile shining through under your hood. In front of you was the target of your amusement, the youngest link.

“That’s so cute!” You exclaimed to the horror of Wind, who was red in embarrassment. “Wait who’s dad?”

“Can we let this go?” The teen was covering his face now.

“It’s Time.” Four said without looking up from his book. Utter chaos broke loose in camp with just a few words. A chorus of any forms of agreement was making you laugh even harder. Time though covering up his true feelings about the situation was very lost. While yes, he acknowledged that he had slowly became the father figure of the group. That title didn’t involve you.

Unless…

“Time! I didn’t know we were married!” You bounced over to their leader looking at him with a playful smirk.

A life with you flashes in his head.

There could be a small cottage farm surrounded by the forest that reminding him of his old family and home. You could take care of the garden while he could take care the animals. In a few years the two of you might just have a few kids running around. Playing with each other without a care in the world. No more fighting. No more traveling. Just a simple lifestyle with a tight knit family. It looked peaceful. Everything he would want.

“You should have told me.” He was brought back to the present by your face looking up at him expectedly.

“I thought you knew.” He said super seriously. “We’ve got to raise nine children together already.”

“Hey! I raised you during the war old man!” Warriors called out from across camp.

“You’re the uncle then!” (Y/n) countered “I already say Twilight is our first born!” You declared pointing to Time’s flustered descendent. The rest of the conversation was tuned out as he went back to his thoughts once more.

Time lived longer than most of the heroes here by age 11. Yet not once did he stop to think about a future and family. He was so busy trying to keep out of hero work that it just slipped. Yet see you with the other heroes, knowing now that you were just as much a parental figure to the others as him. It made his softer just thinking about it and he welcomed that warm fuzzy feeling with open arms.

Reaching out he brush’s hair out of your face to kiss your temple. “I’ll propose to you properly later.” He said in a teasing tone to suggest he was only joking to hide the truth in that statement. Seeing your entire face flush red was really worth it.

“Gross Mom and Dad are flirting!”

___________________________________

- He’ll never once tell you straight if he liked you or was just playing along with the ongoing joke that the chain has.

- This time instead of you observing him. He wants to see how far he can go until confessing.

- It drives you crazy. Since you can’t get a read on him. You attempt to flirt back in retaliation. However, it always ends with you being the most flustered.

- Who knew the Old Man had it in him?

Twilight:

- It became a melancholic hopeless feeling that spiral out of control.

- He already had his heartbroken by someone before and he knows he shouldn’t get attached to you too.

- Yet he can’t stop himself from wanting to be near you. He heard you so clearly before.

- Now that he can actually speak to you directly, he wants to get to know his other travel companion more.

___________________________________

Being alone in the forest with you wasn’t what Twilight planned when dropped in a different Hyrule but here you two where. You offered to go on patrol with him when the others were setting up camp claiming it was too see if you could identify the era. It didn’t matter since Twilight enjoyed your company no matter what. The lack of conversation between the two of you didn’t bother him. If anything, it felt the most natural. Only a few words were needed for the two of you to understand each other. “Do you mind if I use my wolf form?” Twilight asked fiddling with the chain that attached to the shadow crystal around his neck.

You paused to think about it. “I mean you can. But be aware I will baby talk you.”

This got Twilight to stop walking. Maybe he lied. He doesn’t need a few words to understand your thought process. “Excuse me?”

“I can’t control myself around cute creatures.” You simply stated like it was the most obvious thing.

Instead, Twilight was burning up. You thought his wolf form was cute? Of all things you used that word? What did you think of human Twilight if you thought like that? Did he want to even know? He was searching for any way to take this conversation but it all lead to dead ends. “Cute?” Was all he could ask. His voice pitching up as he got flustered.

“Yeah?” You looked at him just as confused as he was. “Wolves are just like big dogs and to be honest you look more like a giant dog then a wolf.” Your explanation did not help at all with his situation. “If it makes you feel better you’re very handsome as a Hylian and also built like an go-“

Twilights brain was malfunctioning he couldn’t hear any more of what you had to say about him. He grabbed on to the shadow crystal, turning into his wolf form he ran. He didn’t hear you call out his name in surprise.

Hylia, what was wrong with him? You were just a friend. A very blunt yet gentle friend. Nothing more. Nothing less. Why was his heart racing so much? He had heard you shower him in complements before while on his first adventure. But hearing you say it to his face with no shame whatsoever was a different story.

Twilight knew what these feelings were and deep down he really wanted to act on them. But was it ok? Was his heart finally healing from his last love? Twilight was already aware this time that you had to leave at some point. He didn’t need to act on them despite wanting to. He could just be your friend and continue the relationship like that.

His heart was already breaking a second time.

Twilight was in love you and it was driving him crazy.

___________________________________

- Like Time, Twilight isn’t going to tell you about his feelings. Instead, he is going to forever pine for you.

- It’s going to be a slow process and you need to be aware that he will get hurt if you’re going to go back home.

- He’ll see you off with a smile, but as soon as your gone he will break.

Warriors:

- It was full of denial and fear.

- He went through the receiving end of someone’s obsessive love.

- And it doesn’t help that you’ve watched over their adventures. He vowed to not get that close to you.

- There was a need to destroy the endearing feeling he sees when you smile at him.

- Yet seeing you with a sad far out look on your face makes him scramble to your side to find out what’s wrong.

___________________________________

It was just the two of you. Weaving throughout the crowds of castle town. You were currently in Four’s Era and in the middle of the Picori festival. The group was long spilt up, leaving Warriors alone with the dimensional traveler. Soon even (Y/n) was walking away from him. He didn’t know why he followed, the argument in his head was telling him that it was so they didn’t get lost. Yet there was a part of him that knew that wasn’t it.

“Where are you going anyway?” He thought to finally ask as you reached a quieter area. “It’s going to be hard to spend time in the festival from here.”

“Yeah, that’s the point.” You were a bit snappy today, “shouldn’t you find someone else to hang out with?” Warriors just shrugged as you slowed your pace down to pause in front of the small river that ran through castle town. The silence now filled with the rushing of water as you sat on the bridge.

Against his better judgement Warriors sat next to you. Finally, he got to talk to you one on one but the normally impulsive and excitable person Warrior’s grew to expect had changed in that moment.

You looked so tired.

“Hey Link?” You finally called out to him “I know I shouldn’t ask you this but…” hesitation was new to your character. “How do I even start?” You rake a hand through your hair. Sweeping a part of your hair out of your eyes. “Was I ever helpful during your Adventure?”

Oh… Oh he really wasn’t the right person for this talk.

You look back you and towards the festival and he followed your gaze. From where they were he could only spot a few of his party members. Wind was with Legend and Hyrule playing some of the stall games. While Four was with his Zelda holding hands as she pulled him further into the crowd. “Last time I saw this festival it ended up destroyed by Vaati.” The wind mage was only brought up a few times by Four. All Warriors really knew was that the villain was supposed to be sealed away by the Four Sword, and that his power was connected by the dark mirror. “I found myself wondering if my presence even mattered.” Your shoulder slumped in defeat as you curled into yourself.

The instant need to comfort shot through Warriors. He wanted to reach out. He fought the urge to hold you. He bites his tongue when he started to think of embellished words to make you feel better.

What was wrong with him?

Warriors had to say something though. “I don’t know about Four or the others.” He didn’t even think about your presence in his adventure too much. If anything, he actively tried not to think about it. Here you were though a person and not a figment of in his imagination. “During the war, your voice and presence is what broke the tension. The moments that could have been my lowest, you were there saying things that I wanted to repeat out loud.” There was a fondness while he was looking back at the memories. From the moment he ran on the battle field foolishly as a trainee soldier. His pride grew upon hearing your praise and surprise when seeing him fight for the first time. To your excitement while meeting his friends from the other Eras. He shared your sentiments about Mask as you cooed over the child as Warriors fought by his side. Then your anger, disgust and pity towards Cia. While on his side, your empathetic nature had you morning during her passing. These where just the tip of the iceberg.

Just having someone voice out mutual thoughts on a situation helps when you can’t do it on your own. You feel crazy thinking the way you do. “With you there it’s like you always have someone by your side cheering you on and supporting you.” He paused to look at you. Conflicting emotions clashing together. You turn to look at him, your eyes only briefly visible through your bangs. Curiosity and guilt were swarming with in them. “I’m not the person to talk to about this.” He finally admitted out loud. “But I would be lying if I said your presence wasn’t important to us.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Was that not what he was supposed to say? Warriors tried to stay calm under your gaze.

You let out a huff of laughter covering your mouth and turning away from him a bit to calm down. “I didn’t think about it like that.” There was a pause where you looked back at the festive before turning back to smiling softly at him. “Thanks Cap.”

The smile that you had on your lips had Warriors stomach do back flips. A blush decorated his face as he turns away. “It’s something that should have been said a while ago.” He manages to say without stuttering.

You were really pretty.

The sound of a picto box followed by winds snickering, was ignored when the thought had just register in his head. He finally realized how far he fell for you.

___________________________________

- one by one his defenses lowered.

- With every smiled sent his way, with every laugh that he earned. He found himself wanting more.

- He slowly opens up, a slow process but it wasn’t as scary as he thought it was going to be.

- A teasing nickname here. A gentle touch there. He realizes he has gone too far.

(Part 2)

[beauty-and-passion]

What Eurovision 2021 taught us

1. That a nice, enjoyable show was possible (even if 4 presenters are still too much)

Of course nothing can beat Love Love Peace Peace (even if Ja Ja Ding Dong does its best), but this year's intermissions were very enjoyable.

We expected something flashy and over the top because hey, The Netherlands. Sex, drugs, gays and all that jazz.

But instead Covid surprised us. And then The Netherlands surprised us even more, by making a very enjoyable show, despite the restrictions. My personal favourites were:

The water intermission of the first semi-final. I loved the mixed feelings, how water is both scary and respected, for being such a powerful, unstoppable force.

The rooftop concerts during the final. Social distancing? Sure, no problem, let's make the past winners sing on top of some roofs all over Rotterdam. That was pure genius, I loved it so much.

On the other hand, the presenters were basically all useless. We could've had just two of them instead of four. But hey, at least they weren't as cringy as the three scary ukranians from 2017 or the useless four ladies from Portugal. The true highlights of the show were the intermissions, the guests and especially the songs themselves and this is perfectly good for me.

________________________

2. That we can live in a world without boring ass ballads

I’ve never been so proud of the Eurovision public, especially during the second semifinal: that evening was PACKED with ballads. Boring ballad after boring ballad, with just a couple more funny songs in between.

The ballads were all left behind. Even the two Amen. And I love the irony we chose El Diablo and the finnish band for the final, but no Amen. No saints allowed, only the norwegian angel. As it always should be.

And so we had the best final I've seen since I started following Eurovision in 2014. Catchy songs, dance songs, upbeat songs. And power ballads. Yes, ballads can still have a place, but only if they're good.

Because yes, Switzerland and France were good. Very good. Just not as good as the ones the public wanted.

________________________

3. That we want Eurovision, not Englishvision

Every year, the same message blasts from all Europeans: send a song in your native language. This show is supposed to make other people from Europe (and the rest of the world) to know more about your own country, to enjoy its rhythm and to listen to something we don't usually hear. So why waste this huge opportunity, to bring a generic song in English?

Because the English song wins. Because we all understand English, so English has more chances.

Flash news: GUESS WHO WON THIS YEAR. No, it’s not the generic English song.

The public has been crystal clear, the final poll is even clearer: the top five includes an italian song, an ukraine song, two french songs and only one english song. We want different styles and rhythms, we want to listen to Europe.

So I want to give my full thank you to:

Albania: amazing song, great voice, wonderful language. Do it again.

Serbia: these ladies are fantastic, their song is great and they sang it in their language so I love them

Switzerland: thank you for leaving English to the side to give us some good french

Spain: the song wasn't as good as Universo, but it was in sexy spanish, so thank you for using it almost every year

Danemark: the song was terrible, but it was in your language and this alone deserves everything

France: I know we all make fun of you for being France, but your language is perfect for songs, so thank you for always using it

Ukraine: take note, Ukraine, because Europe is madly in love with your language and your rhythm

Italy: our language is beautiful, so thank you for delivering every year

While my biggest biases go to:

Greece: a generic pop song with no balkan rhythm and no greek either? An absolute shame, greek should always be used for songs.

Russia: russian language is very melodious and yes, we got something this year, but what about bringing a full russian song? We want it!

Germany: I may sound crazy, but I honestly think german language is good for songs. It's not like the mediterranean languages, but it still works. So please, do not be scared and show what you can do with it!

Scandinavian countries: why do you never want to bring your own language? Do it, don't be scared! Yes, Sweden, I'm talking with you: you still never tried to bring something in swedish, so do it.

________________________

4. That we don't want Americans to play with us

For reasons we still have to understand, Flo Rida was competing this year. And he was competing for San Marino, the smallest European country.

I'm pretty sure they took some time to explain to him what was going on, where he was, where San Marino is, wtf was happening, why there were sexy italians and ukranian witches and a norwegian angel and loads of beautiful women everywhere.

And I loved how we all send memes about this, about ahahah why is Flo Rida here, what if San Marino wins where would they host Eurovision, all while enjoying an actual catchy song.

And then, in the end, Flo Rida basically disappeared. Who remembers Flo Rida, when we got Ukraine, Italy, Finland, Iceland, and the UK? And Germany being wholesome? And the love story between Norway and Azerbaijan? We collectively forgot about him and I think it's very sexy from Europe to just say "nope" and push America away, even if for just one week.

And this isn't the first time: we basically showed Madonna in a corner in 2019, thanks to Mans, Eleni, Verka and Conchita. Once again, Europeans knows what they want: we don't want Americans. Australia can because they're like that little brother we took under our wing for no reason and now it's part of us. But not Americans.

The rest of the year is all yours, but one week is ours.

________________________

5. That we can lose like bosses

This year, the voting results have been absolutely insane and FOUR COUNTRIES got zero points from the public, while the UK got both zero points from the public AND the jury.

Don't get me wrong, the song was bad. And yes, Brexit played a role in this. And yes, hating England is Europe’s favourite sport.

But can we please all take a moment and appreciate how James Newman reacted? The public gave him a round of applause and he celebrated this achievement like a boss.

And he had all the reasons! He achieved something incredible, he unlocked something that this new voting system was supposed to never lead to. But he did it. So hats off to you, my boy: My Last Breath was better.

Germany is also used to the bottom of the chart, but this year I really thought Jendrik could have a chance to achieve a higher position. The song was funny, carefree, lively, the hand costume was the kind of trash we need and the message was nice as well. But he still got 3 points.

Despite that, Jendrik celebrated like a maniac and seeing his this happy made me happy as well. I really wish him the best.

________________________

6. That FUCK YOU JURY

Again, same message every year: the jury vote should be eliminated. It's a fucking farce and their votes have nothing to do with what the public want.

The jury focuses on the voices, except when they don't, and clearly giving points to your neighbours is because you like the song, not because they're your neighbours.

I usually make fun of Greece and Cyprus showing eternal love to each other, by giving 12 points to each other every year, but this time, it sounded even more stupid than usual. It really looked like a farce. Why should we see this farce? Why can't we just choose what the public wants? So at least we would blame ourselves for our shitty musical tastes.

Even if I'm pretty sure we all have great musical tastes. Let's not forget that in 2019 the public's winner was Norway, with a song that mixed english, a catchy rhythm and an amazing part in yoik language. Arcade is good as well, but we cannot deny the norwegian entry was a lot more interesting.

And this year, the public's taste was flawless:

Look at this beauty: italian glam rock, ukranian techno folk, french powerful ballad, finnish hard rock and whatever that thing was with Iceland.

There's variety, there's everything for everyone. And there are native languages. Italian, Ukranian, and French on top three, followed by English.

Moral of the story: the public is great and the jury should be abolished forever.

________________________

7. That Ukranian technofolk is all we needed in our lives

I didn’t see enough love for Go_A, so as italian, I think it's my sworn duty to give my appreciation to them and their amazing entry, because this band is awesome and Shum is currently on top of the Spotify top 50 - as it should be, because everyone should listen to it and join this slavic rave party.

I already liked their entry for 2020, Solovey. But I also liked My Last Breath from the UK and Universo from Spain. And this year they brought two of the worst songs. So I was very wary of Go_A.

But Shum is an absolute blast. Katerina Pavlenko's voice is unique and the song is even more, because based on ukranian folklore and traditional dances to summon the spirit of spring. They managed to teach something to all Europe in a three minute song and I think that’s incredibly sexy of them.

And so, I searched for other songs and OMG, I don’t know how it’s possible, but they are all great. Rano-Ranenko, Zhalmenina, Tanula, they all are perfect and I’m in love with this band.

And if all of this is not enough, THEY DID A COVER OF DANCING LASHA TUMBAI. The most iconic Eurovision song, sang by our god Verka. And this is the coolest, most badass cover ever in the whole universe. Please listen to it HERE everyone needs to hear this.

So thank you, Ukraine, for giving us Go_A. We all had a small empty place in our hearts and this place has ben perfectly filled by them.

And yif you think you don’t need ukranian technofolk, is only because you still haven’t listened to it. Please listen and enjoy Shum. You’re welcome.

________________________

8. That rock and roll never dies (and Italy’s well deserved victory)

The last time Italy won was in 19-fucking-90. 31 years ago. I was just born.

And now, they finally won again. And what a song! Despite being italian, I've never listened to Maneskin before, but oh damn, this song is good. Not all their songs are, but this one is. And also Morirò da re.

Their show was perfect as well. This post is really eye-opening about how well they put on their show. The use of the stage, the movements, everything has been part of a great performance, even their clothes. Damiano's voice never faltered, despite having an entire continent watching him. They handled the stage like bosses, despite being only in their twenties. And they gave us some good fucking rock.

And so the public said a loud "FUCK YOU" to the jury and chose its winners. The sassy, sexy italians.

And yes, I know that there has been a lot of petty polemics because those youngsters are having drugs!1!! as if they were a bunch of idiots who used drugs on international TV, with their manager sitting next to them.

Of course it was a pointless accusation and honestly I don't care if some people are sore losers. The drug results were negative anyway, what a shocker.

What we should truly think about is how strong the Maneskin's bladders are, because they spent the whole evening of the final drinking the entire alcohol supply of the Eurovision and, at the end, they were still happy and cool. Hats off to you, you sexy people.

This man is just iconic, why did I miss him before.

Also, have some more Maneskin. You know, as a treat.

________________________

9. That solidarity and wholesomeness are the biggest winners

It's just beautiful to see these nice people, from all over Europe, bonding, having fun, taking photos together and being friends.

The true winner of this, is probably Norway: Tix wanted to have a good time and he had a good time. The video of him vibing with Ukraine and Germany while listening Hard Rock Hallelujah is the best (HERE). His love story with Efendi from Azerbaijan is even better (please, check the video on his youtube channel, it's hilarious). I don't like his song, but he's a great guy and deserves everything.

The italian and finnish rock relationship is also great. Maneskin and Dark Sides found each other, considering they were the only two rock bands in the competition, so mutual appreciation was inevitable.

But Damiano is also a man of culture and he appreciates Ukraine's entry. And Ukraine appreciates both Finland and Italy. Is this what world peace looks like? Because I love it.

________________________

10. That Italians will be Europe's clowns again (and you're all allowed to make fun of us)

Beware, Europe: we Italians are messy and chaotic, our presenters don’t know a single word in English, we are homoerotic AND homophobic at the same time, our musical competitions are so fucking sloooow... let’s say next year’s Eurovision is going to be interesting.

And yes, you’re allowed to make fun of us. We don’t care, we won, so we deserve to be Europe’s clowns once again.

And I don’t know who the presenters will be (my bets are on everyone’s favourites: Fiorello, Amadeus and Malgioglio), I don’t know how we will ridicule ourselves once again, I don’t know where will we find the money to put on the show, I don’t know how ungodly long it will be... but I know that Mans Zelmerlow will be part of it. This man loves Eurovision just like all of us, so I can already see him packing his suitcase and planning his flight to Italy. Come to us, Mans, we will wait for you. We actually need an English presenter, so if you have nothing else to do...

[chasingpj]

𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐳𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬

"I might spread a rumor about you and Percy rendezvousing at midnight. The Aphrodite cabin will have a hoot with that one."

pairing: percy jackson x child of hecate!reader

words: 4,931

warnings: none

timeline: post sea of monsters

if you want to be tagged every time I update this story, click here

a/n: hi hi! this is part one of a self-insert series I'm working on. in this story, y/n is a child of hecate, and this storyline follows the books. the current timeline here is post sea of monsters and will continue through the Heroes of Olympus books. though it follows the original plot, y/n has her own storyline and quests. i tried to make y/n gender-neutral but as I continued to work on the timeline for this project, i had decided that this fic is for a fem reader. guys, this is really just me projecting my fantasy into fanfiction lol. i feel like this is a slow start?? and there is a lot of info dumped in this so bear with me. it'll get better and I'll be working to improve my writing as the series continues. I was on a writing hiatus for a really long time and I'm out of practice so this is my way to get back and hopefully, exceed the skills I had when I was a consistent writer. anyways, if you have any feedback, let me know! I'd love to hear what you think. as i get deeper into the series, i might ask for some suggestions on what to do with the fic. anyways, i'll stop rambling and i hope you like it!

Part One Part Two

You ignore the aching in your neck as your focus is fixed on the herbology book in front of you. You’ve been seated at your desk for Zeus knows how long reading and taking notes in your Book of Shadows, determined to finish reading it as fast as possible. Your half-brother, Alabaster, insisted that you need to memorize all the herbs and their properties before he can properly teach you how to use them in potions. Even though you understand its importance, you hated introductory work. You are itching to get to the real stuff, resulting in you glued to your chair, studying through the night as your cabin mates were fast asleep in their beds. But as determined as you are, Ambrose, your familiar, wasn’t much help. Ambrose whines as he rubs his head against your legs like a needy kitten, making it difficult to ignore him.

“What is it, Ambrose?” You whisper, sitting back in your chair in defeat. You take a second to massage the back of your sore neck before turning to face the translucent hound sitting attentively at your side. His tail sweeps the floor as it wags excitedly, and a short huff leaves his snout as if he was proud to have finally gotten your attention.

Your eyes meet his, racking your mind to figure out what Ambrose needs to tell you. At first, you thought he wanted to play, but you didn’t have time for that, so you decided to ignore him. Usually, after being ignored for a while, Ambrose will give up, finding something else to occupy him. But tonight, he was particularly persistent, and he’s only like this when he needs to tell you something.

Before you can ask what he wanted again, Ambrose gets up from his seated position, running over to the small table that stands beside your bed. You furrow your eyebrows, the first thing you notice when you walk over are your crystals neatly placed in front of your spell books as usual. Seeing them made you suddenly remember what you had planned to do.

You had told Ambrose to remind you to charge your crystals and collect water from the lake since there is a full moon tonight and of course, Ambrose being your loyal companion, did exactly that. Before looking down at the hound, who now is breathing heavily, his tail somehow wagging faster than before, you smile to yourself.

“I told you to remind me earlier, didn’t I?” Ambrose snorts and runs around your feet enthusiastically. You couldn’t help but giggle at his excitement as you reached down to pat his head. “Good boy. What would I do without you?” You continue to praise him, grabbing a black pouch and carefully placing the crystals in it. You put your index finger to your lips, signaling Ambrose to be a little quieter despite his excitement. If he accidentally wakes anyone up, then you definitely weren’t going to be able to fulfill your plans.

You bite your bottom lip as you tiptoe out of the aisle between the bunks. You look around the notoriously cramped Hermes Cabin to make sure your assumption that everyone was asleep by now was correct. It wasn’t hard to make out the faces of your cabin mates since seeing clearly in the dark was one of your many gifts, so you carefully walked along the bunks, being as quiet as you could. You are especially cautious as you approach the front where your cabin leaders, the Stoll brothers, slept. You study them for a second, knowing for sure Travis was asleep since he was snoring and loudly at that. Before you can check if Connor is asleep, you hear him shifting in his bed. You stand frozen in your spot, hesitantly looking over and you were expecting to be met with the usual mischievous grin. Instead, his back was towards you now. You have a feeling in your gut that he wasn't asleep, the timing of his moving was much too convenient. You really didn't want to wait any longer though so you decide that you might as well leave before he could stop you.

You turn on your heels, walking over to the window before you push it open. You cringe softly as the hinges creak, and you look back at the cabin to double-check if anyone has woken up from the sound. You sigh in relief when you see no one has moved, and you turn back to the window, carefully crawling out of it. This wasn’t unusual for you. You’ve done this so many times that using windows as a mode of exiting and entering a room was as natural to you as walking in and out of a door, and soon you were hopping down onto the grass. Your back is pressed against the cabin as you walk the side of it. You look up at the trees and the sky, eyes scoping around for any harpies hanging around. After deeming that you were alone, you begin making your way to the lake, Ambrose walking by your side attentively and cautiously to make sure you are safe.

The night was clear; the stars and especially the moon shone brightly in the sky. You sigh softly, taking in the stillness of the night, admiring the glistening lake reflecting the full moon placed above it. You’ve always enjoyed how quiet and cool the nights were, preferring it more than the daytime.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t avoid it as much as you wish to. Most of your siblings can agree with you that they’d prefer to sleep in most days so that they can study and practice their magic at night. However, that wasn’t the schedule of the Hermes Cabin. It was pretty impossible to sleep in since the mornings were always hectic. In fact, the cabin was just hectic, period. There was always something going on, whether it was an elaborate prank or the guys arguing over who gets to shower first after coming back from training which usually resulted in an intense game of rock, paper, scissors. You can’t say that you didn’t like it; at least you were entertained.

You also always had someone to talk to, and because there were often new campers coming in and out of there, you have easily familiarized yourself with a lot of the kids at camp. However, like your mother, you did enjoy and yearn for the occasional periods of solitude. As fun as living with the Hermes kids was, you and your siblings did find yourselves getting a little irritable at their shenanigans. It was at those times, you did wish that your mother, Hecate, had a designated cabin.

You and your siblings had always said if they ever got a cabin of their own, they would make sure everyone had separate rooms and would have designated spaces to socialize and practice their magic so that it was quiet for the most part. Alabaster, especially, was really passionate about this topic. He complained how it didn’t make sense that your mother wasn't recognized since you and your siblings were a powerful little bunch. You all needed a space to practice your magic and practice preferably at night since you were the most powerful at that time of day; you were also less prone to making mistakes in your spell casting at night. You agreed with him and would get upset about it sometimes, but the Hermes Cabin was a place you considered to be a second home. The communal feel of the space was something you enjoyed, it was one of the few places where you felt fully accepted which was rare to find being a demi-god with abilities like yours. In return to the Hermes Cabin welcoming you with open arms, you accept the inconveniently loud environment as an admirable quirk and went on with your days.

Then to compensate for the lack of silence and solitude, you would often stay up late, taking advantage of the quiet to focus on your studies. Even if you had to sacrifice the amount of sleep you got, you felt like it was worth it.

It doesn’t take you long to arrive at the dock, sitting down close to the end with your legs folded under you. You first collect lake water in a jar before carefully taking out the pouch's crystals. Assuming you had only a few left in the pouch after laying most of them on the dock, you tilt it with your hand under it, only for the crystals to come out all at once. You fumble, hands trying to bring them to your chest, but with your luck, one of your crystals falls right into the water with a plop.

“Dammit!” You peer over the edge and groan, Ambrose whining at your misfortune as he stands beside you. You look down at the water, noticing Ambrose’s and your dim reflection in it. There was no way you could get that crystal now because you didn't know how to swim, and you consider that maybe tomorrow you can convince your twin brother, Atticus, to look for it or Alabaster if Atticus refused, which you were expecting him to.

Your breath hitches at the back of your throat, jumping back as a head of dark hair abruptly pops up from right where you were staring. Ambrose barks loudly next to you, equally as startled, and your eyes widen. You stand up hastily at the realization that Ambrose's loud barks in the dead of night will catch the attention of the harpies, and right now, that was more important to you than the mysterious person that just sprouted up in the water like a zombie coming out of a grave.

“Shush! Ambrose, quiet!” Your frantic command was enough to make him stop with a whine, and you sigh shakily, turning towards the camp to check if there were any harpies.

“I think you dropped something.” Ambrose moves in front of you protectively, a low growl coming from his chest as he cautiously studies the person. You look back where the voice came from and to your surprise and your relief, you find that the mysterious person in the lake was no other than Percy Jackson. You never had a conversation with him before, but you definitely knew about him. It was kind of hard not to know who he is since he’s been the talk of the camp since he’s arrived. Your thoughts about him weren’t any different from most of the camp. You’ve seen him fight and use his powers during capture the flag, and you were just as impressed as everyone else. You did have to admit that you found him to be pretty cute too. His eyes were gorgeous, clear, and bright like a shallow, cyanic sea. You also found it adorable how his hair always looked a little disheveled.

Your (e/c) eyes met Percy’s green ones before looking at your rose quartz in his hand. You smile sheepishly, noticing the amused look on his face.

“Ah, yeah, that’s mine.” You walk over to him, but as you get closer, so does Ambrose, and his growls get louder. "Ambrose, heel. It's okay," you say softly, and he stops in his place, but his stance is still at alert, his eyes watching Percy cautiously. You pat Ambrose's head before walking past him and over to Percy. "Thanks," you smile, taking your rose quartz from his hand.

"No problem… I don't think your ghost dog likes me," Percy jokes, moving to look past your legs at Ambrose, who’s standing tall on your left side.

"Yeah, well, you kinda scared the crap out of us," you point out, amused. You take in Percy's goofy smile as he pulls himself up from the water, and you notice that he’s completely dry as he settles on the edge before turning his body to look at you.

“It’s y/n, right?” He asks, and you nod, figuring he’s probably heard about you in passing from Connor and Travis since he was friends with them too. “What are you doing out here so late?"

"I could ask you the same thing," you retort playfully, making him smile. You move to sit down where you were standing. You spread the crystals neatly on the wood, making a mental note to get them before you go to bed.

"I couldn't sleep, so I came out here to hang out, but then a hippocampus swam up. One of its friends got stuck in a fisher's net not too far from here, so I went to help," he explains, and you nod. "I told you my excuse, so what's yours?"

You hum, "It's a full moon out tonight, so I thought I should take my crystals out. I also needed moon water for a potion, so I collected some for that," you point over at the big mason jar full of lake water. "It’s not as cool as your excuse,” you say playfully.

A short laugh comes from Percy, and when you look up from your crystals, you notice he was looking at Ambrose again, who was still in his tense stance. Ambrose was especially protective of you and Atticus, and it wasn’t unusual for him to be cautious of the new people you come across. You assumed that Ambrose was particularly tense with Percy since he had successfully caught you both by surprise.

"Ambrose, relax.” You pat the top of his head to soothe him. "Lay down." Ambrose whines, licking your hand affectionately for a little, and you can tell he was still uneasy about the other. He was hesitant, but he follows your command anyway, laying down with his head on your lap.

"You can touch him?" Percy asks, his eyes wide and curious as he watches you pet Ambrose.

"Yeah, I can touch ghosts in general. My mother is Hecate, goddess of necromancy, along with magic, the night and the moon," you tell him. "This is Ambrose. My mother gifted him to me to be my familiar, kinda like a guardian." You look down at the hound, smiling softly as you scratch behind his ear softly.

Ambrose is a burly Molossian Hound who lived in the time of Alexander The Great. From what your father told you, his breed was well valued in Ancient Greek and Roman times and was often used in war. It is easy to understand why the breed was used in war. Ambrose is huge and muscular, about 6 feet tall when he stands on his hind legs, and he weighs around 200 pounds. At first, Ambrose can come off as a little intimidating. You remember how your siblings had avoided him when you first arrived at camp before they realized that he was the clearest definition of a gentle giant. Even though he was trained to fight when he was alive, he was still as gentle as a well-trained house dog unless he was given a reason not to be.

"When did you get him?" Percy asks, his eyes focusing on Ambrose’s translucent body that looked like it is made up of this gray swirling vapor. He couldn’t exactly wrap his head around how Ambrose’s head was comfortably propped up on your thigh.

"We met on the night I was on my way to Camp so about 2 years ago. Without him, my brother and I probably would have never made it to the borders.” You look up at Percy, meeting his eyes again; you watch as his face softens as he shifts to lean back on his hand.

"Really?" You hum and nod, ready to drop the conversation there, thinking you shouldn’t bore him with the details. You didn’t really like talking about it much, but the way he was looking at you made you feel like he was inviting you to continue talking.

"We got separated from our father at the gas station a couple of miles away from here. He went inside the convenience store to get us snacks, and while he was in there, a cyclops had found us, tried to grab us out of his car. We jumped out and ran into the woods nearby," you explain as you look out at the dark horizon.

You remember the sound of your father yelling after you and Atticus and how it broke your heart hearing, for the first time, such despair in his voice. You knew your dad didn’t want to bring you guys to camp, but he knew it was in Atticus’s and your best interest to come here and be with other people like you guys.

When you and Atticus started developing your powers, your father had simply told you guys that you were special and to refrain from using your telekinesis anywhere else but home. He didn’t say anything more until one night, you and Atticus had gotten in a screaming match about a reason you don’t even remember. However, in your screaming match, the both of you were so angry that a green aura had formed around you both, and books, magazines, even cutlery were being flown across the room because of the sheer energy you were admitting as a unit. It was then your father had decided to take you and Atticus to the camp to control and learn about your powers before you guys destroyed the house over a dumb argument like who’s turn is it to have the TV remote.

"We were more concerned about the monster hurting our dad, so we decided on a whim to run in the forest. My brother and I have telekinesis powers, and I aimed well enough to send a rock right at the cyclops eye. We lost him a little after that, but we didn't know where we were. We made too many twists and turns; we had no idea what direction we came from. And then, this buddy appeared out of nowhere from a distance. I saw him glowing from far away and couldn’t make out what he was, but I felt that I had to follow him. So we did, and he got us to camp with no detours for any other monsters. He's been with me ever since," you say, and a low whine comes from Ambrose’s mouth as he nuzzles the side of his face on your thigh contentedly.

Percy nods, and he huffs softly, "You guys got lucky. How old were you and your brother when you got to camp?"

"12, we're twins. We actually got here a couple of weeks after you did,” you mention. You watch Percy’s mouth curve into a half-smirk.

“Wow," he says, amused, and shakes his head. “So you have a twin and a dead dog, no fair," he jokes. You giggle, rolling your eyes playfully,

"Oh please, and you have crazy water powers. You’re completely dry after swimming! I think that's pretty envy-worthy."

"Hey-,” he shrugs, taking a second as if to form a protest. “I guess you're right,” he admits and laughs. You laugh with him, opening your mouth to say something else but unfortunately, you were interrupted by a screech echoing in the distance.

Both you and Percy stand up quickly, trying to figure out which direction it came from. “The harpies,” you both mutter in unison. You bend down to grab your things, and you look at Ambrose.

"Go distract them, bud," you tell him, and Ambrose jumps up to his feet, and you watch as he runs away, barking to get their attention. Just then, you see the wings of the Harpies coming up from the trees of the forest. You turn to Percy, grabbing his hand quick,

“Incantare: Transpectus!" You exclaim confidently, closing your eyes to envision you and Percy becoming transparent on the dock. You've never tried doing this spell before, but you've gotten better at visualizing and setting intentions, so you had some hope in yourself. You open your eyes, not feeling any different, and you hoped that you just didn't make a fool of yourself in front of Percy. But when you look down at your hand hesitantly and notice it was hard to make out since you were see-through like glass, you sigh in relief. You smile to yourself, more than satisfied that you were able to pull that off.

"Woah, are we invisible?" You look over at Percy, able to see him just fine since he was under the spell with you. Percy looks down at himself, eyes widened as he processes he can’t see his body anymore. You observe him for a second, finding it cute how he looked surprised and obviously entertained at the fact that he was completely see-through. You feel yourself growing a little flustered, trying not to focus too much on the fact that you were holding hands with him.

"Something like that. C'mon, it won’t last too long," you whisper, and your grip around his hand tightens as you guys begin running to his cabin. You hear the harpies screeching in frustration as they swoop down to try and grab Ambrose, only for their claws to go right through him. While the harpies were growing more annoyed, Ambrose, on the other hand, was having way too much fun, running in circles and barking at them as if he’s teasing.

"Man, I wish I had a ghost dog," you hear Percy mutter behind you as you arrive at the steps of his cabin.

"Yeah, Ambrose is pretty great," you admit, watching him play with the harpies before shifting your gaze over to Percy. "Thanks for getting the crystal for me." As much as you wanted to stay talking to him, you knew you couldn't stay too long. You were still eager to finish studying, and Ambrose can only hold off the harpies for so long.

"It was no problem. It was on my way up anyways," he shrugs, and you smile, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in your stomach. You look down, the two of you still holding hands even though the spell wore off already. You awkwardly let go of his hand, shifting on your feet.

"Well, I'll see you around," you say sheepishly, fiddling with your fingers.

"Yeah, I'll see you.” His hand comes up in an awkward wave. You nod, returning the wave. Your eyes meet Percy’s green ones one more time before turning on your heels and walking down the steps of his cabin. You notice that Ambrose is now long gone into the forest, taking the harpies with him to give you time to rush to the other side where your cabin is.

As you hurry back to your cabin, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you replayed the interaction you just had with Percy, and you couldn't help but wonder when would be the next time you could talk to him.

You carefully hoist yourself up, climb back into the cabin through the window, sighing softly once you get in. You slowly close the window, your face scrunching at the creaking sound, but you successfully get it closed before turning around, only to be faced with Connor Stoll standing a few feet away with his arms crossed over his chest. You gasp loudly, almost dropping the mason jar in your hand, being startled for the second time tonight.

“Oh, look who’s back,” he says, his lips pulled in his usual mischievous smirk, his right eyebrow raised as if he's suspicious of you. You shift, giggling nervously under his graze,

"Hey, Con.” Shit. You knew he wasn’t asleep, and a part of you wasn’t surprised that he had caught you sneaking out again. You weren’t too worried since Connor wasn’t one to be strict or easily angered, neither was Travis, but you can understand if he did get a little upset with you since the cabin could also get in trouble, and he worried about you getting hurt.

"You leave so often, I'm starting to think you're seeing someone," he teases, and you furrow your eyebrows, not really sure what he was trying to get at.

"I'm not seeing anyone. You know what I do when I sneak out," you tell him, putting your hand out to show him the jar full of water. After being caught the first couple of times, you had explained to Connor why you occasionally needed to head out at night. He was understanding of your reasons, telling you to try and not sneak out as often. When he did catch you, he always kept your outings secret. It came with a price, though. You were sometimes stuck doing extra chores, especially anything that had to do with cleaning, since he hated doing anything that had to do with mopping or sweeping.

"So that wasn't you and Percy on the dock?" Your eyes widen, and you feel your face get hot again. You shake your head, stumbling over your words for a second.

"Uh… n- that was a coincidence!" You hear him snort, laughing quietly as if he didn't believe you. Even though he couldn't see your facial expression very well in this lighting, he can still tell how flustered you were at his sudden question.

"Yeah, sure," he says sarcastically, and he hums, "Anyways, what are you going to do for me so that I don't tell on you?" He asks, and your mouth drops open. Usually, he wasn't so forward, and he never threatened to tell on you. "I might spread a rumor about you and Percy rendezvousing at midnight. The Aphrodite cabin will have a hoot with that one."

You gasp, "Connor, are you blackmailing me right now?" You narrow your eyes at him, and he shrugs,

"I guess you can say I am." You shake your head, walking over to your desk to put down your moon water before turning toward him and crossing your arms in front of your chest.

"... what do you want?" You ask, expecting him to make you take up one of his chores. But from the way he was smiling at you, you can tell that there was something more he wanted, and you were beginning to worry.

"Help me turn the Ares Cabin into bunnies," he says, and you shake your head frantically,

"No way! Clarisse will kill me," you whisper. Connor smiles,

"No, she won't. She can't kill you if she's a bunny," he points out, and your face falls flat,

"They're not gonna stay bunnies forever," you say, and you fiddle with your fingers nervously at the idea of the outrage you'd get from the Ares Cabin after shifting back from being bunnies. "I don't know, Con. I don't even know if I can turn all of them into bunnies at once."

Connor waves his hand at you, dismissing your concern. "I don't care for the logistics now. We can work on that later, but you have to agree to at least help me," he says. "Or I'm telling everyone I saw you smooching Percy on the dock."

"What!? We didn't even kiss. We talked for like 5 minutes!" You whisper-yell, your reactions much too entertaining for him, and he was having a hard time holding in his laugh.

"Your decision, y/n."

You sigh, throwing your head back. You look at the ceiling for a second as you consider your two choices. And you decide that getting your head potentially put on a stick by Clarisse was better than the burning embarrassment of Percy thinking you're spreading rumors about kissing him. "Fine, whatever. I'll help you do the bunny thing," you mumble, your shoulders slouched.

Connor nods with a proud smile on his face for trapping you into helping him. "Good choice. I will be going back to sleep now. Good night… again," he announces, turning on his heels and walking over to his bed. You frown a little as you walk back to your desk to study. Plopping down onto your chair, you decide that you’ll worry about Connor’s little plan later so you can focus on your studying. After a while, Ambrose comes trotting in, joining you by the desk as usual. You smile at him, praising the other for distracting the harpies for you before he lays down, his head laying on your foot.

As you study, you find that you couldn’t help your mind drifting back to Percy once and a while. You deem that there was no way that you could have a crush on him since you guys have only spoken once. In the midst of your internal debate to decide what you felt for him, you suddenly remember the crystal that was retrieved for you. You remember how Percy presented it to you, holding it out for you with his fingertips. It was your rose quartz. What a coincidence. You smile, rolling your eyes as you tell yourself that you’re thinking too much into it. You look over, noticing the dim illuminating light of the beginning sunrise shining through the curtains. You sigh, deciding that you should probably get to sleep and take advantage of the maybe, four hours of sleep you’ll get tonight. You close your herbology book before making your way to your bed, and with a soft sigh, you retreat under the covers, and finally, you surrender to your drowsiness.

masterlist

[legguk]

Hi!! So,

it's my ( literal ) first time writing fanfiction, so I'm pretty new at this stuff, but Lady Dimitrescu is all I was able to think about for weeks and I >needed< to do something about it.

( If you want some context, I wrote this thinking “what if Alcina survived?” - Alcina's pov )

———

The fall,

The end of everything you once loved

Ethan Winters.

You woke up... somehow, you woke up. The frigid air hitting your fresh wounds felt like a jolt send by reality, as if one says "you're still alive" -

- and oh how you were starting to hate that feeling.

Laying on the demolished floor of your castle, muscles twitching in pain, mouth open gasping for air... that's how you are, how you will remember yourself from now on. A defeated dragon, a crushed woman, a dead mother.

You should get up, you should let go of your carcass and crawl your way back into the warmth of your home, you should—

—you should be dead, actually. Resting on death's cold embrace along with your daughters.

Daughters.

God, your daughters.

The memories flood your mind with a painful, unbearable reminder; they're gone, dead, crystalized - gone. They're gone. Your lovely daughters, your pride and joy, the main reason you'd open up your eyes in the morning...

...Bela,

Cassandra,

Daniela....

Their names are long cold, not yet forgotten - no, never forgotten - but somewhere else, as they don't belong here anymore; not on your arms, tucking them to bed. Not on your hands, caressing their faces. Not on your lips, kissing their foreheads. Not on your tongue, as you say them.

A raspy scream leaves your throat, it sounds disturbing.

You sob, hot tears trailing down your cheeks and neck, small cries for help find their way into the wind, disappearing with less importance then when they materialized.

You cannot recall for how long you stayed at that very same position, perhaps some hours, perhaps a day, but you are certain that at some point you were overcame by tiredness and collapsed - probably the best to do for now.

xxx

And so, rises the moon and the stars watch upon your limp body, the night howling a merciful wind and singing a melodic song. Grunting, you push yourself up with your elbows, sitting up and facing the sky through the hole you've made on the roof... and the levels above...

A huge carcass sits besides you, it's wings bended on itself and it's big mouth open to whoever would like to have a peek; you probably changed back into your normal body while unconscious... Now that you can see it clearly, you notice the damage that man-thing did to you... by heavens, how were you still alive and...

Oh. The castle. You look forward, taking in the horizon - the stars look exclusively shiny tonight - you breath in, the dusty air causes you to chough a few times. Stretching your neck a bit to see your whole house, you tell yourself it looks.. fine, actually, ignoring the broken windows. The broken windows.

It's cold. You shiver harshly, panting as the air meets your bare back and rumbles through your lungs, making you hug yourself, - you're naked, you just realized - the winter in Romania is truly kind to no one.

Your legs tremble with just the thought of trying to stand on your feet. You don't rush to do it either, let the wintry breeze take in your wounds, make it sting, burn it, freeze it; freeze your body along.

“To die. To die is to live. To live without them, that's torture. To live without their presence, absent of their scents, to not hear them, nor see their faces again, that's worse than death; far, far worse. How could I ever walk into that damned house without the heavenly sounds of their laughs, the tapping of their feet as they walk free, the steadiness of their heartbeats, reminding me that my own still beats.

Beats for them. For them only.

And they're gone.

So who shall my heart beat for? Myself? No, that wouldn't do. I will rip it out from my chest if I must, sacrifice it to any god who may hear me, all so I could spend five more minutes with them. Then I'd die in peace and find them at my arms again at whatever comes after this poor life.

But I'm here.”

You still hold yourself as you stare at a castle's - broken - window, new warm tears hanging the same trail the old and now dry ones did, a silent cry.

Your intrusive thoughts were abruptly cut by a loud noise from the inside of the castle, making you jump up, gathering all your last strengths to stand and walk a few shaky steps closer to home. The more you walked, the louder the noises got; a little rustle became a bang, and your tiptoing became a sprint, you hold yourself as tight as you can, ignoring the bleeding, the cold air spiking your lungs, how insanely fast you heartbeat was. You need to get there, protect the last remnant of them you still have.

The gates felt heavy now, even for you, who would open them with one hand. Where is your strength now? The fearless dragon who'd do anything to protect her house? Perhaps she died on that fall, and now all there's left is a shadow of what you were one day.

With much pain, you open the big doors, leading to the comfort of your house; you don't get in, you throw yourself in. The warm atmosphere engulfed you like a summer kiss on a winter storm, all you needed to ground yourself to reality for now. Grabbing some sheets laying over an old counter, you wrap yourself in it – oh, that's gonna get soaked in blood, but that's not of your concern now – moving incredibly fast for someone as hurt as yourself, you follow the continuous sounds that could not mean something good. The main doors are open, the cellar is unlocked as well, that idiotic man-thing couldn't even close the doors once he finished slaughtering your home? Imbecile.

You stand at the library's door now, suddenly frozen; you know what happened in there... do you really want to get in? Are you truly ready to face it again? Maybe you should take a step back and walk away, it would be the most logical decision to take now.

But what is logic when the heart screams? What is the brain for once your emotions take the best of you? You can't walk away. Put some honor on your name. Save the last bit of your daughter that fate is still conceiving you. Your chest rises and falls completely out of coordination, your fists close around the fabric involving your body; get ready, you're going in; gather the last bit of courage you have inside yourself and blast these doors.

And so you do.

You bring those pieces of wood to the ground, the only barrier between you and the reality you couldn't accept; a guttural growl forms in your chest as you see a lycan approach your child's crystalized body; you're blind with ire, sorrow, protectorship - you name it - and it makes you shout at the top of your lungs as you dilacerate the filthy beasts you'd bat your eye at. A bloody trail of corpses marks your way through the castle grounds, your claws dripping with fresh sanguine fluid - which you can't tell if it's from the creatures or from yourself - the crimson path follows you all the way to the other wing of mansion like a spirit who must haunt you for eternity.

You scream like a feral animal, blood soaking the once white cloth around your form; the scream becomes a shriek, which descends to a yelp, ending as a furious cry. You can feel the anger leaving you, like the waters of a waterfall; explosive, big portions of water falling into a numb, deaden lake. Hopefully those waters will carry you with them, you shall fall and sink at a anesthetizing lagoon.

You kneel, eyes closed, eyebrows frowned; a loud sigh fills the deafening silence in the air, your mind is blank – better, your mind is red, scarlet red mixed with black, ire and grief. Slowly, your head lower itself so you're facing the floor.

The big Lady Dimitrescu,

kneeling on a pool of blood, defeated.

•

“Lady Dimitrescu!”

Who..? The voice was so far yet so close, you try your best to focus on the direction of the calls but your nerves just won't cooperate.

“Lady!”

Who would be calling for you? Is your mind playing tricks on you now? And since when you were laying on the floor? Too many questions for too little answers. You try to stand up, but a sharp pain on your side made you cry out and fall on your back, face knotted in pain – perhaps your adrenaline rush was keeping you from feeling what was really happening with your body, and now you feel like you're betraying yourself for that.

A small figure approaches you in a fast pace, causing you to unleash your claws one more time and snarl at the not-so-possible threat; you were hurt. Vulnerable. Letting someone close was the last thing you wanted now. The humanoid thing backs away a few steps with your aggressive reaction, hands on their chest, visibly afraid – even though your vision is quite blurry, you identify their expression: scared, desperate, sorrowful – they call out once more, almost shouting.

“Please, Lady Dimitrescu, let me help!”

Ah... Help... The now clearer feminine voice washes over you - a wave of compassion - as if hope has found its way to your house again. Well, it better go away again, or you'll drag it out yourself.

“Out.” was all that left your lips, your intense gaze locking with hers, a silent yet not so discrete warning; although you had only said one word, it was well understood by the woman, who stepped away, eyes still meeting yours, a dreadful cast hang on her face.

Still, she didn't left.

Is that girl testing her luck? It can only be. Once again you warn her: “Leave. I will not repeat myself.”

Her posture stiffens, after a moment of silence she looks at the door, truly wondering about leaving or not; her body turns around, her knuckles going white from how hard she was grabbing the fabric on her chest – she's conflicted. But why? Who is she, after all? – A long, defeated sigh leaves her, as if she knows there is no choice left.

“Allow me to help.” A failed effort on trying to sound confident; her voice is full of tears and her tone is oscillating – it makes you wonder if she has been crying – The human walks towards you, trying not to make any eye contact; you can't stand on your feet, you left hand is pressed on your injured side, the other is open and directing your now extended nails towards her.

Oh how funny it is, no?

The predator being cornered by the prey. The dragon being trapped by the rabbit. How ridiculous it is.

Her extremely shaky hands hang in front of her, trying to say she won't hurt you – oh if she only knew it's going to be the other way round. – One step closer.. Her lips and chin tremble; Another. Your claws grow bigger, eyes peering through her soul; another step, your eyebrows frown, her eyes are teary. The last step - your blood is boiling hot, your nerves on edge; you are still the predator. - a slicing sound and a half-scream saturate the air for a millisecond, just for silence to overfill it once more. Red splashes over the room again, on your face, on your chest, but mostly on the floor, where the girl was thrown at.

An agonizing scream leaves her throat - what a miracle, she remains alive - both of her hands cover her face, blood spilling all over her; what a sight, you would most definitely enjoy this very much on another situation. She cries out in despair, making you face the ceiling and close your eyes, a tired look on your face – you just want all this to end, you don't have any more patience for this. You want to crawl back into your bed and starve, you want to destroy this place, make it abandoned ruins of what one day was a home; you want to kill that damned sickening man-thing, kill this foolish girl for perturbing your grieving, and then yourself.

The woman captures your attention once again, she is kneeling, her body facing yours, her right hand presses her ripped face, the other makes its slow way up to you, although she is trembling, she manages to keep her hand steady enough to hand you a little green flask with a yellow-y label; You look closer, 'treatment disinfectant' it says... Oh you can only be joking. You feel like slaughtering the girl right this instant, but takes in a deep breath and holds the flask, her hand immediately falling along with her body. Is she dead? No, her slow yet consistent breathing exclaims that she is still alive – you honestly find it a bit offensive – You should, but you cannot bring yourself to finish the human; you should end her suffering, but now she caught your attention; and besides, she wants to help, doesn't she? then the price she'll pay is staying alive.

———

hahaaa I'm so nervous about posting this,,, ,

and yes! It is a alcina x maiden fic! I do plan it to be slow burn, and if some you liked it and read it till here, please like and/or reblog and I'll post chapter 2!

( posted on Ao3! Name: “The woman in your castle” )

( chapter 2 posted!! )

[inkedtae]

a brew of wings ⇾ myg. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ dragon!yoongi x witch!reader (f.)

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾  daechwita inspired, fantasy, magic realism, smut, fluff, angst-ish, hybrid au, shifter au, 18+

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾  your tiny tea shop is the perfect front for harbouring hybrid fugitives

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 10.3k 

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ mentions of violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of captivity, mentions of death, hard dom!yoongi, lip piercing!yoongi, big dicc!yoongi, tattooed!yoongi, sub!reader, tea shop owner!reader, unprotected sex (wrap it to tap it), rough sex, a lil dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink, oral (m. receiving), multiple orgasms, begging, teasing, spanking, a lil choking, spit play, breath play

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ happy halloween!! speical thanks to selene (@jksangelic​) for helping me out a bit with logisitics!!! enjoy :)

♕ This is dedicated to @kkulmoon​. My bestest soulmate!!!

♕ banner/border by ⇾ @suqakoo (jiji is wonderful and deserves all the love and this is a beautiful banner)

♕ beta’d by ⇾ @nottodayjjk (a hundred kisses and thanks to this gems for always being there for me~~)

♕ le playlist 

In the humble village of Daegu, sandwiched between a blacksmith and mechanic, a tiny tea shop lives - exactly where Namjoon said it would be. But, not at all like his mother had described all those years ago. Technology has bled into every corner of her once little world. Yoongi wonders if she would still recognize it as he watches customers filter in and out from under his wickered hat.  The tea shop seems all too busy to resemble anything close to a hybrid asylum, but Namjoon was specific. Perhaps Yoongi shouldn’t trust knights of the king. Most have a reputation for hybrid mistreatment. However, there isn’t much logic in letting Yoongi run so far only to be captured in an obscure tea shop. And besides, Namjoon is a friend. Perhaps the closest he’d encountered in a long while.

“She’s going to scold you.”

“Nix loves me too much to scold me.”

Nix. The familiar name redirects Yoongi’s attention to the two men walking by him. The taller one, with features so symmetrical they almost seem unreal, rests a fishing pole over his shoulder. The shorter one, with the sharper tongue, carries a bag that clatters with glass. They enter the shop causally tossing curses at each other. Yoongi reaches into his pocket, unfolding the little piece of parchment Namjoon ripped to scribble on. 

utopia, nix, huckleberry lemon on ice.

One glance up at the flickering neon sign above the storefront attempts to spell Teatopia, but the first strokes of light seem to be dead. Instead, it glows atopia. Tremors of the midnight train suddenly resonate around the evening market. All lights flicker and dishes clatter, though the villagers' conversations carry on. Their affairs remain uninterrupted, eyes focused only on each other. Yoongi clenches his fists and digs his feet into the ground to steady himself until the train finally passes. When he glances back up at the neon sign, parts of the first ‘a’ flicker out to read utopia. 

Rolling his shoulders back, Yoongi bears his fangs behind sealed lips, as a precaution, then pushes the door open. A bell chimes. Patrons sit around velvet draped tables. They engage in  lively conversations, breaking steamed buns together and sipping on all sorts of tea. But, it’s the steady crackles of the fireplace that pique Yoongi’s interest. The amber embers beneath the flames soothe the heaviness upon his chest. One breathful of floral smoke, and he sinks into comfort.

That is until a black cat purrs down by his feet. Yoongi snaps his gaze down to find it circling between his legs then prancing off behind the counter. The two men bickering outside sit at the bar in front of a woman looking more unimpressed the longer they speak. Yoongi retracts his fangs, eyes fixated on the way your brows dance with annoyance. And that dress. He doesn’t care much for fashion but you seem to wear it differently, simply. Most people, much like him, travel with layers. Only a black dress clothes you, sleeves flourishing at your wrists and laces around your cleavage. Though, he really shouldn’t let his eyes wander.

Yoongi ignores the heat rushing to his cheeks as he approaches the counter. The black cat sits by the one-eyed register. Its tail swirls and emerald eyes remain on him. He tentatively takes a seat by a sleeping old man, a couple seats away from the arguing men. 

“Nixy,” the shorter one smirks. “You wouldn’t scold me, right.”

You, Nix it would seem, cross your arms under your chest. You hold a blank expression until the taller one sighs and grumbles, “He stopped for a pack of stray dogs.”

“Jin! You promis- He purposely mislead us to fish for a couple of hours!” 

Jin gasps then nudges his friend. “Guk, I swear I’ll kill you.” 

Guk scoffs, returning the shove. He stands from his seat and attempts to tower over Jin, only to get a hand slice to the neck. A quick exchange of smacking hands breaks out between the two, the sleeping old man beside Yoongi suddenly wide awake. 

“Land one in the gut!” He shouts.

Yoongi winces at the volume. He mutters a curse under his breath before his annoyed gaze meets yours. You watch him for a beat, two, three, then blink your attention back to Jin and Guk. A wave of your hand separates them with a slide back. Frustration still rages in their gazes. Yoongi holds his breath, diverting his gaze to the floor. Recognizing rage in others often triggers his hybridity. The dragon tickles in his palms as thick, black talons replace his nails. Yoongi shoves his hands in his pockets, eyes shifty, breath heavy. 

You bite your lip. Jin and Guk fall silent, their words cinching in their throats. “I don’t want to have to send Apolla to babysit you,” you sigh. The black cat purrs in hiccups, as if laughing. You let a smirk grace your lips, continuing, “This next batch needs to be delivered on time.” 

With a twirl of your finger, glass vials, now filled to the brim with multi-coloured herbs, float back into Guk’s bag. You, then, beckon the pouty men closer. They shuffle towards the counter. You tug two tiny crystal pendants from your charm bracelet and pin one on each of their sleeves. “These should help you stick to your path,” you mutter. “Soak them in saltwater once all the orders are complete.” 

Though they roll their eyes, both men nod in understanding. Guk offers an innocent smile, Jin a playful one, before turning to the door. Whatever spell you had over their voices seems to wear off by the time they exit. “Little punk,” are Jin’s final words. 

Yoongi’s hands clam with sweat as his talons retract under the cover of his pockets. He sighs heavily. Gaze shaking behind his short hair, he shifts in his seat. The old man’s snoring returns sinking in with the crackling fireplace seamlessly. Yoongi wishes he had this man’s freedom. The ability to fall in and out of sleep in a public place without fearing for his safety. Is it his identity or the shop that makes him feel this secure? 

“What can I get you?” 

He flinches. Meeting your curious gaze, he mutters, “Huckleberry lemon.” 

“Infused or blended?” 

Momentary panic flashes in his eyes. If you notice, you don’t make it known. “On ice.” 

The action is quiet, subtle, but Yoongi hears it clearly. Your breath hitches. You swallow thickly, looking him over once, twice, then ask, “On or in?”

“On.”

You wave a hand. The lights of the shop flicker out, candles taking their place. Yoongi shoots to his feet, talons and fangs returning. His temples suddenly ache where his horns should be. Oh yes, Yoongi remembers, Horns surface in defense too. Setting his jaw, he ignores whatever sentiment scratches at his throat and whips his gaze around the store, searching for the first attack. However, he merely finds the patrons preparing to leave. They seem all too familiar with the switch between electric to flame. A few of them even mutter curses under their breath. 

The old man stretches by Yoongi, to which he flinches. “Another rogue broomstick?” He asks you. 

“A mop,” you correct before tugging on your ear. A loud clattering boom sounds from the closest by the end of the counter. Yoongi jumps back, looking to you for an answer. You avoid his gaze. 

The customers bid you a goodnight. You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. They swim with panic instead. Yoongi perks his ears towards you, instantly picking up the quick beat of your heart. It’s hammering, blood sprinting around its cycle within your veins. He glances down at your hands. Your nails have scratched their way to the edge of the wooden counter, knuckles tense as you grip onto it.

Once all the customers have left, you circle around the counter and ask, “Is Namjoon okay? What happened?”

Yoongi stumbles back, eager to create distance amongst you. “Yeah, he’s fine. He told me you’ll find me a place to stay.” 

“Where is he?”

“Seoul.”

You pause. Not a single breath dares escape you as you assess his word. Yoongi raises a brow. What exactly is your connection to Namjoon, he wonders. You went out of your way to find out as quickly as possible if anything was wrong. He licks his lips when realization finally colours your features. A bitter curse slips past your maroon lips. Without another word, you rush back around the counter and begin scribbling onto a loose piece of parchment. You roll it up once you’re done. “Apolla,” you call. The black cat leaps from counter top to top, landing by you effortlessly. You slip the note into her collar and whisper, “Make sure they read it and seriously consider it before leaving to the next, okay?” 

Apolla meows, rubs her head in your hand then jumps off the counter. Yoongi peers over the counter to see where she’s gone, but he can’t spot her anywhere in the candle lit darkness. 

“Do you have the note he gave you?” 

Yoongi snaps his attention back to you. Your back faces him again. He digs into his pocket and pulls out the tiny piece of parchment. You pluck it right out of his hand and roll it up with your own note then whistle a high melody. Distant hoots grow louder behind him. He looks to the door as it opens on its own accord. A black owl swoops into the shop. You tie the message to its left leg, offer the owl what looks like a rat tail, then send it off. The door shuts the moment it's gone, locks clicking. 

Finally turning to Yoongi, you tip your finger up and his hat falls to his back. Yoongi glares. Your sporadic writings and dismissals might have been interesting at first, but now he’s looking for answers. How is this witch supposed to help him? Namjoon promised he’d be safe here and, though the shop feels secure, you do not. 

“Agust Dragon,” you whisper.

Yoongi furrows his brows. His gaze shifts to the draped windows and locked doors. Who told you of his arrival? Perhaps this was a trap. Was it to see how far he could get, to have this entire little town witness his defeat? The cruelty of the king does not know restraint. If anyone was to lead him back to his mother’s village to further humiliate him, it would be the king. Yoongi rolls his shoulder back, inhaling deeply as his talons surface once more. Taking a step back, he asks, “How do you know that? He didn’t write that in the note.”

Your eyes glow with concern. Had Yoongi not been fixating on every change, he wouldn’t have caught the underlying tone of your gaze. It’s almost as if you’re questioning just how much he knows. You wave a hand at the radio. Through the speakers, a robotic voice informs, We interrupt your scheduled programming to alert a hybrid breach in Seoul. Agust Dragon has escaped royal captivity. All-

With another wave, it switches back off. “It goes on for a while about your scar too,” you add. 

Tremors of the taser used to detain him flash within his veins. The glint of that pearl sword blinds him with the haunting pain. Between those stone walls, he fully transformed. Had he known it would be the last time, he would’ve spread his wings wide, tipped his head to the sky and bellowed a cloud of fire. Within the smug, he’d inhale deeply and do it all over again. Perhaps he would’ve escaped then. Perhaps he would’ve endured more scars. At least, Yoongi thinks, I would still be a dragon.  

The clatter of dishes pulls him out of his thoughts. He blinks his attention back to where you stood, only to find you mixing something in a black caludon. Jars of various contents hover around you, some peaking at the mixture over your shoulder. Yoongi watches you move further in the kitchen behind the counter like you’re floating yourself. Movements so swift, sharp, susintically enchanting, he can’t take his eyes off you no matter how hard he tries. Your power is an outlaw to nature yet looks so natural. Is it a charm of who you are or who you’ve become?

“I’m not sure what’s nourishing for a dragon,” you say over your shoulder. “I try to adjust the glamour to the hybrid. There isn’t much about dragons.”

“Yet.”

The speed of your gaze to his soul makes him shiver. You don’t regard him with hostility, but something much worse: curiosity. The very bane of his existence. Only, hints of concern cushion the blow of this realization. Yoongi can sense your intentions in the way you calculate your words. You explained what you’re working on without prompting. You ensure he knows you’re here to help by mentioning nutrients rather than sedatives. Yoogni may not know you, but he knows Namjoon well enough to know that if he trusts you enough with this information, then you might not be as big a threat as your curiosity is. 

You return to the counter with a red and gold patterned teapot. The colours swirl around a white base in slithering motions. Yoongi assumes it’s a simple meld of lines until he makes out the bold eyes of a dragon. Shooting you a glare, he asks, “Is this a joke?” 

The smirk on your face does not comfort his annoyance. Whether or not you recognize this, is hard for Yoongi to tell. There’s something painfully unreadable in your eyes. You never regard him with pity, even if he knows his face is bruised, clothes dirty and hair smells all too strong to ignore. Something else laces your looks that soothes and riles him all at once. 

“It’s charmed to reflect your greatest desire,” you explain. 

Yoongi pauses, looking down at the teapot again. The wings of the dragon flap then spread wide, like gliding over the winds. He blinks back his frustrations, reverting his attention to the flower painted cup in your hands. Regret pricks his heart, his conscious scolding his tongue for lashing out all too quickly. Just because he can’t completely trust you, doesn’t particularly mean you don’t have pure intentions regardless. 

He clears his throat and mutters, “Sorry.”

After pouring dark violet tea into the cup, Yoongi watches as you squeeze a bit of honey in. You shrug his apology off while giving the tea a good stir. Sliding the cup towards him, you tentatively search his gaze and ask, “So, what did you see?”

Yoongi ignores the question. He keeps his attention focused on the tea, bracing himself before that first, initial sip. The moment the spice soaked chia touches his lips, he is thrown into a euphoric tranquility. Notes of cinnamon, ginger, anise stars and peppercorn evade his senses. His body voluntarily melts into the warm comfort spreading within. And that little bit of honey you added, offers just the right amount of sweetness, and that’s not something Yoongi particularly cares for. 

It takes pulling the cup away from his mouth for him to realize he’d drank it all. Face warm, he glances up at you. He’d never really met a witch before, merely seen them around. He doesn’t remember his mother mentioning any in Daegu when she resided here. They seemed to flock around Ilsan, near the wooded mountains. It’s rather common knowledge that the closer they are to nature, the stronger they become. Their strength usually also manifests greaty in covens. So, why is this one alone? 

Wiping his mouth, Yoongi holds the cup out. He may not completely understand your motives, but that tea is too warm to turn down. You smile and refill it. He takes another sip, removing the cup from his face so as to not to chug it all at again. You pick up on his actions and quietly giggle to yourself. Yoongi bites back a smile. Maybe it’s the tea, but he finds something about your laugh that’s all too pleasing. It feels familiar, a little sentimental, and profoundly personal. 

“What’s your name?”

He raises a brow. Was Agust not enough for you? Or do you know that it isn’t who he really is? “How did you-”

“You look like the cautionary type,” you interrupt. “The type to bear his fangs and talons on the slight chance that danger is just around the corner. So, I would assume you didn’t tell whoever caught you your real name.” 

And he thought he hid that so well. You’re smarter than he expected you to be. Or perhaps, more accurately, you’re more perceptive than expected. The longer he remains in your presence, the more he realizes he has completely underestimated you. Originally, you were just some middle maiden, redirecting lost hybrids upon a knight’s command. Now, Yoongi is starting to wonder if perhaps you’re the one in command. However, if you can sway knights of the king, why wouldn’t you use that power for something greater than relocating refuge hybrids? Why not destroy the system all together? 

Either way, your potential summons a ghost of smirk to his lips. “And why should I tell you?” His tone is almost teasing, but simply because Yoongi is curious now. How much attention are you offering?

You rest elbows on the counter and lean on your chin in your hands while trying to hide a smile. “I’m (Y/N).”

In a reactive loop, he mentally repeats your name until it’s seared into his brain. His dragon hums in approval, like it was expecting it, expecting you. Yoongi presses on. “What’s the point of Nix then?”

“A coven name burns into your soul,” you whisper. “Much like a dragon does when born.”

“I thought you said you don’t know much about dragons.”

You smile, rolling your eyes like he’s the one being tested. Sitting up, you turn back to the kitchen and ask, “Have you eaten?”

Yoongi barely parts his lips before you cut in again and call over your shoulder, “Or would you rather get washed up first? Hmm, that might be best. Finish your tea and I’ll show you to the bath.”

A snap of your fingers and the kitchen comes alive. You shut the curtains into the back, but Yoongi makes out the charmed sponges and dishes being cleaned. The closest that clattered not to long ago, opens just enough for a broom and mop to waddle out. They rush to the back, the mop bumping into the broom. For a moment, the two nudge each other back and forth, until your echoing steps scare them into continuing on their path to the kitchen. They slip between the curtains. 

In near silence, Yoongi sits alone in the shop. The distant spray of the sink only just breaks the hearth’s crackling concentration. Every sip of tea settles the fuming dragon. It’s something about the spicy kick and earthy tones of mint - at least he thinks it’s mint. He wonders what gives it this violet colour. Is it the magic? Is it you?

It’s rather odd, now that he thinks about it. Three days of travel, of near survival only to find solstice in a cup of tea. Perhaps that’s the true magic you offer. A sense of peace is a sip away? Or maybe it’s the lack of concrete walls and iron chains. His mother would enjoy this tea. His father would look forward to the food. But Yoongi craves the steam of a bath, the warmth of a pillow. And the dragon within yearns for your presence. If Yoongi wasn’t so sunk in tranquility, he’d search for a reason. Alas, he cannot be bothered. 

“You ready?” 

The chime of your voice snaps his gaze away from the teapot. Yoongi glances down at his cup to find it empty again. Why can’t he every savour the taste? 

With a nod, he hops off the stool. “How far is it?”

You toss him a confused look. Nodding towards the right, you reply with a chuckle, “Just a couple of steps.”

The teapot and cup hop off the counter and into the kitchen as Yoongi watches you disappear down a hallway. You return with a half-smile, regarding him as if he’s the strange one, enchanting dishes and speaking in half-truths. 

“Well, come on!”

A sharp retort sits on the tip of his tongue. Yoongi swallows it before it can cause more damage than necessary. Orders don’t resonate too well with the dragon. It burns his throat with disobedience. There is a better way to do things: his way. He doesn’t particularly like being forced into another. Still, he follows in silence. 

You lead him to the tiny office that looks more disorganized than anything else. Layers of loose parchment and letters bury a mahogany desk. Dried wax, leaked from overused candles, splatters over every surface. Blankets atop a sapphire and opal patterned carpet lay in disarray. You bend over in front of him, his face reddening and eyes shooting to the ceiling, to find cobwebs and burned lights tangled around the beams. With a grunt, you flip up the carpet and a little hatch appears. A stomp, two, three and it clicks open. A dark staircase makes itself known. 

“After you,” you smile. 

Yoongi furrows his brows. Are you insane or simply numb to your own oddities? He’s having a hard time deciding when you flash him such an innocent smile. Glancing back at the dark staircase, even his dragon begins to question your sanity. “You want me to enter this basement first? The hidden, dark basement?”

It takes a moment but his point finally dawns on you. Brows shooting up, you let out a nervous giggle and decide to enter first. “It’s not a basement,” is all you offer as a means of comfort. Or at least that’s what he thinks you say. You’re about halfway down before saying anything at all, voice distant and echoing. 

Where else can he go, he wonders. It would be hard to find a hidden place after being spotted in the town. He doesn’t even know the terrain that well and there isn’t just some tree he can climb or cave to scurry into. You’re unfortunately his last hope for safety. Perhaps you just have a skewed version of it. Yoongi just hopes it's not as skewed as the king’s. 

Against his cautionary judgement, he descends. Each step beckons him closer to warmth, a reality he wasn’t expecting. An orange hue dances against the stone walls as he reaches the last few steps of the spiral staircase. 

You’re right. Again. It’s not at all a basement, but a home. Yoongi inherits the serenity, familiarity and security the moment he arrives. Book shelves galore, candles a plenty and belevenance at every glance. You move around the living room with a pillow and a stack of blankets. Dropping by the foot of the emerald couch, your attention falls back to Yoongi. In his dirty clothes and unwashed hair, he feels so out of place from the purity your home radiates. 

“The bathroom is just down that hall,” you say, pointing to one of five hallways on the right side. 

You’re odd. Yoongi didn’t think that would be something he’d respond to. He nods as a thanks, ignoring the way your generosity strokes his heart. Perhaps, he wonders while shuffling down the hall, humans are wretched. And witches, the so-called horrors of horror, are benignant. Or, it could just be that you are. Either way, Yoongi has witnessed something tonight that he hadn’t in a long time. Acceptance. 

He spares you one last glance, hand hovering over the brass doorknob. You’re holding a wand and attempting to transform the couch into a bed. The dragon reminds him that you don’t know him, where he comes from, how long he’d traveled, or what he’d done to be chained. All you know is a friend sent him here and his hybridity makes him undesirable. Such a luxury, the dragon whispers, to trust and be trusted. 

Agust doesn’t like to talk about himself. You learned this quickly. After the first night, you tried to pry again. Who else escaped? How long had he known Namjoon? Any chance he’ll be offering that name now? But, he won’t budge. Sometimes, when he’s tired of all your questions, he’d walk away. The excuse is usually that he’s looking for a book, but you haven’t seen him pick up anything besides an anthology of flight. You decided to give up all together, not daring to ask the real question on your mind, like how he got that scar. 

Other times, however, he’ll turn the questions onto you. Maintaining eye contact, he’d listen to each answer and engage in a little conversation about each point. Three weeks have elapsed, and you still have yet to decide if this is part of his diverting tactic or if he’s genuinely interested. In both cases, it’s good to know that he’s willing to have a conversation about something. 

It’s also reassuring to find that he’s adapted to your routine seamlessly. He mentioned something about wanting to help out around the shop his third morning in Daegu. The look on his face was too precious to deny. Curious, unsure, tentative, he muttered the question like it meant everything and nothing to him all at once. You were wondering if he knew that Apolla still hadn’t returned with news then, but now you’re sure. He glances at her food bowl every morning, as if looking for signs of her presence. 

Three weeks is the longest she’d ever looked for a safehouse. You expected that not many people would want to harbour a known fugitive, but hoped that someone would. Most hosts recognize the danger of associating with a hybrid. The consequences are the same - execution. Perhaps risks run higher when a face is attached to a name and continuously circling the news. 

Your greatest regret, however, is how relieved you are that he won’t be leaving. Sure, Agust is stand-offish and too blunt at times, but there’s just something about him that reels you in. The rasp of his voice, the indifferent wonder in his eyes, how he walks like he rather be flying is endearing. He almost floats with determined desolation, like he digs the very hole he’s in to get out. The deeper he is, the stronger he becomes. You’re not sure if you find that admirable, but it’s something merely Agust-esque. 

He leans on the counter now, reading that same anthology again. You’re sure this is his fourth time through it. He still soaks in every word and takes his time with each page. A customer approaches the counter with a bright smile. You stop cleaning one of the tables to watch Agust deliberately ignore him. Being a dragon, he can sense when someone is near and how they might be feeling.You know this from the stories your coven would trade. Dragons, being a rarity, are something like gods to witches; you haven’t really met one before Agust. 

“Good evening,” the customer greets. He hops onto one of the stools as Agust ignores him. His smile wavers. “S-sir?”

“Shh.”

The customer blinks. He looks around as if wondering if he’d really just been shushed. “I would-”

“Shh.” 

You sigh, muttering a quiet plea to the gods under your breath. Then, you catch it, the smirk plaything on Agust’s lips. It’s so tiny, hidden behind an annoyed persona, that if you hadn't been paying such close attention you would’ve missed it. He’s not ignoring the customer to gain a reaction out of them, but out of you. And for some odd reason, that makes your heart skip a beat. 

Agust flips the page then finally acknowledges the customer. An amused look holds his features as the customer stutters their order. “Orange basil?” He questions, hints of disgust drenched in his tone. Before the man can part his lips to reply, Agust sighs and shrugs. He looks at you, and raises a brow. It’s rather teasing, silently asking why you’re staring. 

After wiping your hands, you carry the tray of teacups and little teapots back to the counter. The magic takes over once you stand by Agust. He follows your every movement, eyes lingering on the sway of your hips for a few seconds too long. 

“Jimin,” you greet, ignoring Agust like he had done to the customer. 

He picks up on your actions quickly, a quiet chuckle escaping him. “Suck up,” he whispers. 

“Is he supposed to be behind the counter?” Jimin asks. He avoids Agust’s gaze, knowing his question would earn him a glare. 

“Not with an attitude,” you reply with a bright smile. 

Agust rolls his eyes, prepared to chuckle until he hears Jimin laugh. He sighs as if the daily customer is intruding. Within seconds, his interest in the conversation falls. That cursed anthology consumes his attention all over again. 

You mask your disappointment with business, turning to the kitchen. The caldron already heard the order and began it’s brew just as you have enchanted it to do. Agust knows this. He’s watched you recharm the pots every morning. And every time you run back here, you know he notices. Sometimes you can feel his eyes following you when you walk away from him. There’s a faint pull in his gaze, like he’s pleading for your return to his side. At times, you find yourself longing after him too when he’s in such close but distant proximity. 

A quiet hoot shatters all your thoughts. You rush back to the counter in time to find the door burst open and Grako swoon in. Agust already had his gaze locked on the glass, his inner dragon probably having picked up the thumping flaps of feather in the wind. 

Some customers gasp and duck agains their tables. You ignore their confused stares, knowing they’ll chalk this up to one of your strange quirks. Grako lands on the counter, scaring Jimin enough to make him jump out of his seat. Agust enjoys the sight a little too much. 

“Can you get the seeds by the sink for me?” You ask Agust, hoping to grant Jimin a moment without ridicule. Without a word, he makes his way to the kitchen. 

You fight every instinct to follow after his frame and focus on the owl. Searching for Namjoon’s reply, your heart sinks when you don’t find parchment on the left leg. Your message looks untouched on the right. Untying the string holding it together, you unroll the parchment to find the unchanged message. 

Agust sets the sealed bag of seeds on the counter. Grako turns to face him. You do your best to suppress a shaky sigh, but Agust hears it anyways. He ignores the owl eyeballing him and shifts closer to you. The action surprises you enough to distract from your worries. Agust never cared for less distance. Yet, he stands close enough to feel the warmth of his breath fanning over your shoulder. 

“What’s wrong?” He mutters.

Though you want to tell him, you know now is not at all the right time. One too many pairs of eyes lock on you, various ears perking in your direction. You force a smile and shake your head. “Nothing at all,” you reply in the steadiest voice you can muster. 

He nods. He doesn’t believe it, but nods. “How often do your charms work?” 

You raise a brow. “Often.”

“So are the sponges supposed to wring sink water all over the floor?”

Agust is clever. You never doubted this. He’s perspicacious, calculating and above all downright angelic. However, you try not to let that last detail overtake you too much. It’s just that pierced lip and dark tattoo peeking from under his tunic stun you from time to time. The messy hair, undercut and dark, and that scar that lure you more than they should. It’s all too pure to be so rough, much like his personality. 

No, wait, you’ve gotten ahead of yourself again. Agust is clever - yes. He knows just how to get his way with you every time. Anything he wants, you usually offer. His reference of rogue cleaning supplies is just one example of his advantageous perception. Tugging on your ear, you sent the sponges acraze around the kitchen. A cacophony of broken dishes and spilled cauldrons echo throughout the shop. You wonder if you tugged too hard or perhaps used a stronger spell than intended. Did you even recharm the sponges or the entire kitchen? 

All conversation halts to the loud mess transpiring behind the curtain. Agust nudges your elbow, reminding you of the switch to flames when enchantments “malfunction.” You mutter a quiet, oh then wave a trembling hand to the ceiling. The lights flicker a few times before the half-hearted spell finally works. 

“But-” Jimin tries to say only to have Agust hush him again with a finger upon his lips. Jimin sighs, following the rest of the customers out. 

Agust waits for the doors to lock before fully facing you. “So?”

You’re not sure what Agust’s relationship was with Namjoon. You always assumed it was closer enough to trust, but how close is that for Agust? Did Namjoon know his real name? The last thing you want to do is sadden him with your assumptions about your best friend’s silence. However, as you part your lips to lie, you find you are simply incapable of the action when it comes to Agust. It’s not just that he will automatically catch on, but that the act itself dries your mouth. It would feel awkward to lie, perhaps even disgusting. 

“He didn’t reply.”

“It’s been gone for a month.”

“I know.”

He searches your eyes. Fingertips hovering near yours, he inhales half a breath. “Maybe he went back to Ilsan?”

Namjoon told him about Ilsan? Your heart festers with jealousy, regrettably towards Namjoon. If Agust knows of Ilsan, then Namjoon must know his real name. The fact that you didn't mention a name at all in your note might have tipped him against replying. You know Namjoon well enough to know he would take the safest option. Is that where Agust picked up his cautionary habit? No, you mustn’t entertain this petty frustration. So what if Namjoon is closer to Agust than you are? They probably spent more time together too. Another wave of annoyance attacks your chest. That possibility seems to irk you more than soothe you as it was meant to.

Sliding the piece of parchment and a pen towards him, you mutter, “Write your name. The one he’d know.” 

Agust pauses. You don’t spare him a second glance. It’s childish, you know, but you can't help but be a bit peeved with him. Your mind is actively reminding you that Agust and Namjoon are their own people and do not need to have a smaller relationship than you and Agust do. Your heart can’t shut up about it though. It invades your thoughts with questions that attack your insecurities. Have you been too nice? Too mean? Too lazy with your magic or too powerful? Is he intimidated or simply more comfortable around men than he is around women? Feeding Grako from the seeds in your palm, you clench your jaw and attempt to purge these thoughts from your mind. 

Doubt is poisonous. You wish you had an anecdote for this sort of suffering. 

“I don’t want to.”

“Well, he doesn’t believe you’re really here,” you all but snap. “So either scribble the stupid name or let him die.” 

Your drama makes you cringe. Being too aware of your stupidity in the moment might just be the very worse detail about this cursed conversation. 

Agust scoffs. Inching closer, he towers over you. Jaw set, eyes dark with amber rage, he whispers, “You’ll refrain from using such a tone with me if you know what’s good for you.” His calloused fingers trace the outline of your face, as he continues, “I don’t want to warn you again.”

You shudder against his frame. Gulping, you muster whatever courage you have left and mutter, “You’ll refrain from using such threats with me.” You take his hand in yours and squeeze gently, letting your magic tickle his bloodstream. He shivers as those black talons reappear. You feel their impression against your wrist. “If you know what’s good for you,” you finish. 

Agust waits, watches. Adam’s apple bobbing, he nods once. His attention returns to the parchment. He scratches his name, blows it dry, then rolls it up like you had weeks ago. You tie the note to the right leg again. You hope your assumption is correct as you secure the knot. After tossing Grako a rat tail, to which he effortlessly catches, you send him off again. This time he is Ilsan bound. 

“Who is Namjoon to you?” Agust asks once the doors lock shut again. 

You wave a hand to the kitchen to fix whatever disarray you accidentally set it to then answer the question with one of your own. “Who are you to him?”

“A friend.” 

You weren’t really expecting an answer. He usually sulks when you toss a question back at him. So, you begin to wonder, why did he answer this one? What is so important about your answer this time? 

“A best friend,” you smirk. 

He rolls his eyes. “Does getting on my nerves fascinate you?” 

You shrug. “Usually.” 

“Just answer the question.”

“I did.”

He sighs and you mock it, earning a pointed look. “Did you meet in Ilsan?”

“Yeah. We grew up together,” you answer. Though you love to tease him, you can never keep it up for too long. You always end up giving into him at some point. “We were neighbours. The coven didn’t really like him lurking around me though.” 

“Was this his idea?”

You raise a brow. “I thought you were friends?”

“You’re enchanting,” he suddenly blurts. 

When your face falls in shock, his cheeks heat up. His words seem as though they are registering for the first time. How enchanting are you exactly?

“What I mean is,” he tries again. “You have the tendency to get your way from anyone you’d like. Jin and Guk have made all glamour deliveries on time, Namjoon rounds up hybrids for you to relocate all over the kingdom, and you recruit every animal you find.” 

“Not every animal,” you playfully pout. “Just the useful ones.”

Agust rolls his eyes. Accepting defeat, he shuts his book and tucks it under his arm. For a second, you think he’s about to say something. But, he merely licks his lips and avoids your gaze. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s upset with you. 

Later, during dinner, you start to believe your assumptions. Agust seems to focus on everything but you. The beef stew, garlic buns, kimchi, ginseng tea, even pulling out that stupid book again. Never has he opened those pages at the table, always offering you at least sliver of attention. Maybe you have no right for feeling this way, but his disregard for you twinges your pride. 

“Is there a reason you’re staring?”

And that tone. You’ve grown rather sick of it, frankly. He sulks around the house, around the shop and grumbles half-hearted insults. Though you know they’re usually playful, you can’t ignore the festing frustration in your chest.

His eyes gleam with the dragon within. “We both know I can sense your anger.” 

“Shut the book.”

“No.”

You raise a brow, silently suggesting a possible source to your anger.  Agust shuts the book. 

“Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” you sarcastically smile. 

He stares for a moment then shakes his head. “I’m not sure why you’re so angry,” he says while picking up his plate. 

You charm it right out of his hands as he stands from his seat. He glares. You return it. When he reaches for his cup, you wave a hand at it as well. Both dishes hover to the sink. The game carries on until all the dishes float back to the kitchen. You toss a mocking smirk and ask, “Enough flying for you?”

“What do you have against flying?” 

It has your attention. “Nothing.” 

“You’re a terrible liar. How you’ve gotten away with all this hybrid hiding all these ears is beyond me.”

You quirk your head to the side. So he knows this operation has been years in the making. Then what was all that questioning about? 

“If you have something to say, then say it,” he baits after taking his seat. He almost sounds like he doesn’t think you will. He should know you better by now. 

You stand up and circle the table. Leaning against the edge, towering over him, you cross your arms under your chest and disregard all filters. “How did you escape?” 

He scoffs. “Namjoon helped me.”

“Yes, but how?”

A certain darkness falls over his features. He gulps before letting out a shaky sigh. “He was guarding my quarters. We spoke often.” Then he falls silent, eyes reverting to the floor. A moment elapses, two, three, by the fifth he takes another deep breath. “My last night was hard. He told me that he was working on permanent relaction in Ilsan. Something about how the mountains are safest. But after that night, I don’t think he was willing to wait for the right moment anymore.” 

So, that’s how he knew of Ilsan. Shame settles over you in heavy waves. You avoid his eye in regret. Even after that, you know you shouldn’t pry. But you continue to ask anyways. “What happened?”

He glances at the anthology. “They took my horns,” he mutters so indifferently you think it’s a joke. Still, you don’t dare laugh. Not when his face is riddled with embarrassment and disgrace. 

“Then, I was forced into a full transformation,” he continues. “And clipped.”

You gasp. He lets out a breathy chuckle. “Don’t be so dramatic, (Y/N).”

How can he be so lighthearted? No- you mustn’t question his ways of coping. Regret engulfs you as you look to the stupid book again. Perhaps you shouldn’t have been so pushy about it. You’ve heard rumors in the coven, about clipped dragons. You just didn’t think anyone would ever succumb to such cruelty. 

“I won’t tell you things if you’re just gonna cry about it,” he grumbles. 

You’re crying? Rubbing your hands against your cheeks, you’re surprised to find them wet. “Sorry,” you chuckle. “I just can’t believe they really-” 

“So this wasn’t your idea then?”

Shifting closer to him, you wipe away all your tears and shake your head. “Namjoon found me the day I opened. I told him in a letter that I’ve borrowed a home under the shop. A couple of hobbits told me about it on the train from Ilsan.” 

His hand slips into yours, stunting your explanation for a moment. You gaze down at them, finding the warmth all too welcoming to vocalize any curiosities. His thumb brushes against your knuckles, as if attempting to soothe your worries. 

“Is that how you relocate us? Through tunnels?” 

You nod. “He’s a knight of the people. Just like he vowed to be.” 

Agust sighs. He stops the smoothing touches and redirects his eyes to the floor. “I’m Yoongi,” he whispers, then quickly changes the subject before you’re able to comment on it. “My mother is from Daegu. I thought I’d find her here even though I know where she’s buried.” 

Yoongi. How precious. You repeat the name over and over again until it seers into your brain. A sudden tug to get close gnaws at your heart. A part of you wants to sit in his lap, but another is trying desperately to convince you how bad of an idea that is. The fact of the matter is, though you appreciate the honesty, you can’t help but wonder why he’s telling you all this. After a little over a month of half-sentences and playful teasing at most, he’s suddenly willing to spill all this out to you? It doesn’t make much sense to you, but you’re too afraid to ask. The last thing you’d want to do is downplay his honesty for something material. 

Alas, it seems like you don’t have to ask though. Yoongi already knows. 

“I want to tell you I don’t know. But, I think you might be the first person in a very long time to not care.” When you furrow your brows in confusion, he lightly chuckles and clarifies, “You are clever enough to know my name is not dragon, despite popular belief, and couldn’t care less that I am one. I’m just Yoongi to you, even if you didn’t know it.” 

You cannot deny the allure of him anymore. Hearing him speak of you like this, like you’re the only thing that matters, does more to you than you’re willing to admit. You press your thighs together before slipping into his lap. He wraps an arm around your waist like he’d been expecting this. Yours dangle off his shoulders like you’d been made for this. 

He looks so painfully holy up close, like a fallen god. The scar through his eye crushes your guts with anger. He’d seen so many horrors, perhaps even endured most of it. You know it is not because of the dragon. The determination in his gaze, the desire to survive roots further down than any mythical side of him can touch. Yoongi made it this far because he wanted to. And what do all his efforts leave him with… clipped wings and horns? You can’t sit back and watch him pour himself into this anthology another second. It’s clear he misses his wings, even his horns. 

“Yoongi,” you start, mind sifting through memories of dragon lore. “I think I can bring your wings back.”

He falls silent. A breath doesn’t even dare escape him. “You keep telling me you don’t know much about dragons.”

“I don’t have any physical books about them or dragon hybrids for that matter, but most covens revere dragons. The greatest stories among us are about how magical you are. A piece of you in any potion heightens the effects tenfold,” you explain. 

“So what? You just so happen to have a spell to sprout wings?” 

He’s mocking as a defense. You know this though it still doesn’t stop you from rolling your eyes. “Not exactly. Reproduction spells are tricky. They don’t require the typical notions of a dragon that any other spell might. They tend to be a bit more…” you trail off, eyes dancing all around the room just to stay off him. Shifting on his lap, you suddenly find it all too awkward to be seated here. 

“More..?” 

Perhaps you shouldn’t have brought this up. “Intimate.”

You expected to hear him retch in disgust, or maybe even cringe. At the very least, you expected his face to fall. Never did you think it would light up, no matter how badly you hoped it would. 

“Intimate?” He repeats. “How exactly does that work?” You’re about to answer when he adds, “Show me.” 

Heart fluttering, you swallow thickly. Your guts churns with desire, core drenched in desperation as he continues to regard you with cocky indifference. Is he joking? Testing you? You pray to any god listening that he’s serious. 

“We should probably fire the caldron first,” you whisper. “The base needs to brew for a while.” 

Yoongi nods. “I’ll make sure to give it enough time.” He attempts to hide his smile. You push yourself off his lap and try to ignore how needy you become from a few simple words. You can feel him watching. Body shaking, you’re not sure if you're bursting with excitement or simply anxious. Yoongi seems to have made you feel both throughout his stay here. 

Deep breath in, and you bring both hands up to light the fireplace. The charmed calderon fills to life. Rosewater to start; sweet thyme, cloves, wolfsbane, knotgrass and a hint of ginger to brew. Yoongi makes his way towards you, silently watching all the ingredients pour into the black pot. 

“When is it my turn?” 

Skin ablaze, you bit your lip to hold back a moan. “The witch’s essence needs to be added too,” you mutter all too quietly. 

He hears it anyways. “Even better.” 

Your nerves are all he can sense. The smirk on his face tells you that much. He’s playing because he knows he can. He knows he’ll get away with it and there isn’t much you can do about that. Unless… there is?

He did ask you to show him how the intimacy would work. You start to unlace your dress, biting back a giggle when his breath hitches. Did he think you wouldn’t do it? 

Over and off, goes your dress. In a soft thump, it lands on the wooden floors. Yoongi sighs, eyes shamelessly roaming over your naked body, fixating on every dip of your curves. His balls his hands and makes it a point to keep them by his side. The shift in power makes you giddier than it should. 

Raising a brow, you ask, “I thought you wanted to see how it’s done?”

Yoongi chuckles. He licks his lips, looking off to the side for a moment then pulls his shirt off. The symbol of Min inks in arm like a sleeve. A royal dragon. The abuse makes all too much sense now. Not that it has ever been out of place for the king to do such a thing. He thumbs your chin, gently asking to meet his gaze. 

“Do you still want to restore my wings?” He asks, like his status could ever change that. 

You decide to show him how badly you do on your knees. Hands fiddling with his zipper, you undo his pants and let his massive cock smack your face. Yoongi gasps a moan; your pussy clenches with need. How dare he make such a sound so effortlessly? You just might cum from his voice alone, if he keeps this up. And who told him it was okay to be this thick? He’s so heavy against your cheek, pointing at the soft flesh like it belongs to him. 

His eyes gleam, lips stretch into a smug smirk. Well, don’t you? He seems to be silently asking. 

Mouth open, you carve a taste. Is dragon cum as sweet as everyone says? Tongue over slit, and you can confirm that it is. Your eyes roll back and whines escape like it’s your first time. It’s just one taste but you can’t hold yourself back. Spitting over his cock, you pump him a couple of times then shove him down your throat. 

Yoongi groans. His fingers tangle in your hair. At first, they move in gentle motions. The gesture is enough to tell you not to strain yourself. But then you make the mistake of swallowing around him. Your throat tightens all too deliciously for him to merely watch. Like a switch, Yoongi unbounds himself. His nails dig into your scalp, and hips snap forward. 

You gag. And he loves it. Every wet, choked sound struggling to keep up fuels the force of his thrusts. He loses himself all too quickly to even realize that he’s suffocating you. Hands against his thighs, you have to pat him a few times before he returns to his senses. 

In an instant, his hands are by his side again as he pulls out. You let his cock rest on your tongue as you pant. Through your blurred vision, you can only just make out his concerned gaze. “Sorry, princess,” he hisses. 

As if you thought that honey-thick voice couldn’t get any raspier, he goes and calls you his princess. A loud moan leaves you all too quickly. No one has ever dwelled on you like that. Is his objective to ruin you before the spell casts? 

While brushing your hair back, he chuckles down at you. Your soul fills with the undeniable desire to please this man beyond comprehension. You want to hear him whisper how tight you are, tell you how well you’re doing. Until pride glows every inch of your heart, you will not stop choking on his giant cock. 

You take him all at once, again. Throat burning, a part of your regrets not working yourself up to committing to all of him. Back and forth, you bob your head on his dick. So big, he barely even fits. Every new thrust means squeezing himself through all over again. It beckons tears to your eyes and strains your jaw. You’re aching, but he’s twitching.

Face scrunched in pleasure, Yoongi throws his head back. “Just a little more, princess,” he hisses. Pulling in deep, he keeps your head still against his pelvis and whispers, “Hold it there. Just stay- fuck, do it again for Daddy, princess.” 

Anything for daddy, you wish you would scream. You force yourself to swallow twice more than he asked for, risking a gag too big to ignore. Through gritted teeth, he roars like a dragon in heat and unloads himself in your mouth. Most of it slides down just from how deep he’d reached, but the rest spills out from the corner of your lips. 

He doesn’t care. Pulling out, he continues to pump himself at the sight of you. Hair disheveled, cheeks stained with tears and mouth smeared with cum, are you really this big a whore? Or is it all just for him?

You’re granted a moment to catch your breath, watching him watch you with newfound wonder. Vein laced hand, inked and sticky with his own cum, Yoongi pulls you back up to your feet by your neck. He pats your hair down, wipes your lips, then presses a tender kiss upon them.

It’s now that you notice he has always smelt like charred oak, musky and smokey. Everything about him sets you aflame, And though, your lips are on fire from the taste of his, the cold edge of his piercing cools you enough to miss the heat. You moan and drape your arms around his neck like this is some innocent kiss and his erection isn’t poking at your belly. 

“Is there any particular way I gotta fuck you, princess?” He questions between sloppy kisses. 

You force yourself off him long enough to answer, “Hold me over the pot. We have to cum together for it to work.” 

He smiles, jerks his head back when you try to kiss him again. A twinge of embarrassment strikes your heart before he turns you around and softly trails kisses up and down your neck. “You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs into your skin, rough hands kneading your ass. “Fuck, I knew you had an ass but this is fucking insane.” 

A smack follows his praise. You cry out his name. He spanks you harder. “You know that’s not what you’re supposed to call me right now.” 

You giggle through an erotic moan. He doesn’t like the sound of that. With one hand tight on your neck and the other wrapped around your waist to hold you in place, Yoongi kicks your feet and spreads your legs. Gliding his girth between your folds, he hisses against your ear, “You’ll learn to behave yourself from now on, princess.” 

You want to tell him it was never your intention to disrespect him. However, the slow, deliberate punishment he inflicts melts you into him in silence. All you can bring yourself to whine is, “Whatever you want, daddy.” 

“Mmm, that’s right. That’s my perfect princess,” he whispers. Then, he sucks in a sharp breath with you and plunges himself in your tight cunt. You knew he wouldn’t fit probably in your mouth, but you thought that your pussy, sopping for attention oh so desperately, would easily accept him. It’s your fault for underestimating such a massive cock. His tip doesn’t even fit. Yoongi takes to bending you over for a smoother entrance. 

“So huge!” You cry only to have him chuckle behind you. Vibrations of his laugh tickle your spine.

Once he finally pushes his way through, breathless moans and groans filling the space between, he gives you some time to adjust. It;s thoughtful of him, but you both know no amount of time will ever get you used to his godly size. 

“Please just ruin me, daddy,” you beg, through a broken whine. 

“What was that, princess?”

“Please, please just fuck me!”

Tightening his grip on both your neck and waist, he rapsys a dark laugh against the shell of your ear. You shudder, thinking you might just cum now until he starts to ram you. You jerk forward each time despite his hold on you. His hips always overpower everything else. Rough smacks of skin on skin drown your voice until it’s completely gone. You cannot even bring yourself to properly breathe. He’s a beast. Huffing your name, clenching his jaw and sinking his balls into you, Min Yoongi makes it his mission to destroy you. 

“Pretty, pretty little girl,” he hisses. “My pretty princess.” Grinding his hips against your ass, cock swilling the mess he’s making of your pussy, he suddenly breathes, “I wanna make you my queen.” 

Leaning back into him, you find just enough strength to muster the first words that come to mind. “I’m gonna hold you to that, daddy.” 

He moans, softening his hold to shower your face with gentle kisses. A reflection of comfort and familiarity glow in his eyes when he pulls away. His hands slide down to your thighs. He bends a little to hosite you up against  him. With your legs spread, he holds you over the calderon and picks up that wickedly rough pace again. You place your hands over his and let him ravish in you. 

Slouching, your pussy tights with every new thrust. Doses of you are already dripping into the brew as it boils. Yoongi curses. You thought you felt him twitching a few minutes ago but now you’re sure. In fact, you can even see it. He’s so big an imprint of his cock bulges from your stomach. You watch it twitch again as he shoves his balls deeper into you. 

Just witnessing it, triggers your orgasm. You try to hold it off long enough to let him know, only to have Yoongi barks, “Fucking cum!” 

You’ve never been one to deny him anything. Convulsing, you let your orgasm run free through you. Yoongi digs his fingers into your thick thighs to keep you steady, all while continuing to ruin you. It seems as though cumming spurs him on to further plough into you. He moves with harsher force and speed than he did when he was annoyed. 

He mutters something else in your ear, but you can’t make anything out. Your ears ring, vision blurs and you tremble all over. Toes curled and pointed to the sky, you cry out his name. And, as he pulls out of you to let out leak your mixed cum into the potion, you whisper the spell under your breath thrice. 

“Kiss me,” you whine. “Quick.” 

Though lacking his title, he doesn’t argue. Lips on lips, you drip out your love and seal the spell. 

The cackles of the potion break your kiss. Yoongi sets you back down to your feet then steps away from the heat. You lean back into him, watching the calderon overflow with steam and gleam green. 

He pecks your shoulder and wraps his arms around your waist. “So, there really is a potion,” he chuckles quietly to himself. 

“What do you mean? Why would I lie about something like that?”

Yoongi shrugs. You push your ass back against him, teasingly. He tightens his hold with a playful smirk. “I just thought you wanted me.” 

“I do,” you whisper without much thought. 

A relieved smile, gummy and too cute to resemble anything you just did, stretches upon his lip. You peck his chin to which he blushes. Min Yoongi blushing is not a sight you were prepared to see, erupting your heart all too easily. 

“Never speak of this,” he tries to grumble indifferently, but that smile is still playing on his lips. When you go to tease him again, he says, “Will this even work?” 

You shrug. “Only one way to find out.” Enchanting a cup, you snap your fingers to beckon towards you. You fill it to the brim with the potion then hand it to Yoongi. 

He hovers the rim against his lips. Lost in thought or deliberation, you’re not sure. All you can tell is that it seems as though time has frozen for him. 

“Yoong-”

“I don’t want wings,” he sighs. You blink back at him. He takes a breath before adding, “Not now, anyways.”

You look back to the pot, wondering if the entire thing might have been a mistake. He drops the cup into it without much care for the brew that spills and cups your face. “I don’t want wings tonight. I want you.” 

“I’m right here?”

“I remember a little about what it was like to fly. Being with you reminds me of that,” he whispers. 

Tear prick your eyes, disbelief holding your voice hostage. “Me?” You croak, in confusion. “Yoongi, I-”

He holds you closer and suddenly all your words die in your mouth. You’re not even sure what you were trying to say. Pressing his forehead against yours, he mutters your name like a prayer and whispers, “You’re all the wings I need.”

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

[colethewolf]

I assumed at first that Crystal's age would be like those 80's movies where we all just ignored the obviousness that a full ass adult was playing a teenager and that she'd been dead all this time. But now I'm seeing posts saying she's been alive all this time?

Like...first off, bringing back THIS story line without Dylan and Arden is kinda a slap to their faces. Not surprised. Part of it I also agree is laziness in Jeff's part. Another part is just the narcissism of him thinking he could redo the favorite season of a lot of people without the reasons why it was people's favorites.

All the while retconning and ruining characters and their relationships. In this case....Lydia. She felt Allison die. Of course it could be said her powers were still developing and new and Allison could have been engulfed by the powers of the nogitsune and so close are death and grief and strife that she could have been fooled. BUT...that's the kind of detail only fanfic authors would care to give a character other than Scotty. I don't think nor will I give Jeff that kind of creative credit into thinking.

But also...they were "sisters". Best friends. Regardless of how much influence the nogitsune has had on Allison, if they just have Lydia accept her back into her life...it's just another show that Lydia is nothing more than a pretty thing to keep around and if she had any character development it was accidental or only done on purpose if it moved the plot along so Scott could get his next power up.

She can miss Allison. Of course. But if they don't show her feeling guilt or betrayal...by allison's actions or even her powers, then it's a failure on Lydia's character and because it's a movie not a show, I can easily see her mental state of all of this not even being mentioned.

I don't think she's been alive this whole time. I think he's been revived somehow by the nogitsune or nemeton. My best guess is that Jeff was too lazy to actually think up an original idea for this movie, so he just pulled a bunch of leftover script ideas from season 3B.

Back during 3B, I think there were obvious plans to have more than just 1 trickster spirit. They specifically referenced the fox, raven, and coyote. Stiles was the fox, Malia was obviously the coyote, and that would've left Allison as the raven. And consider how Allison also opened the morgue door in her dream (like how Stiles opened his bedroom door and let the nogitsune in) I think Allison was supposed to be possessed as well.

But for whatever reason, Allison wasn't possessed. And Malia, who was clearly set up to be a villain, was changed at the last moment to be a good guy and then they brought her onto the show to fit Crystal's absence. So, I'm willing to bet that Jeff just took "evil Allison" from his list of shit he never got around to doing and stuck it in this movie.

Allison returning doesn't have a genuine emotional impact because Jeff Davis refused to allow any characters to actually mourn. Sure, you had a few scenes where Scott was sad, but they largely just moved on. The same way they did with everything else that should've caused some kind of trauma ie. Derek's abuse and Stiles being possessed and forced to kill innocents.

I remember back during 3B where Crystal said that she was initially told that she couldn't have Allison say "I love you" to Scott in her dying remarks because Allison was "with Isaac now", so Crystal fought them on that.

And I also remember how Jeff's reason as to why he refused to write Allison a funeral episode (and why he wrote a time-jump into s4 to skip all the mourning) was because he felt that characters being sad wasn't entertaining and he didn't want the characters moping around.

It's so annoying how Jeff puts such little effort into his work and yet remains confused as to why people don't like him/respect his craft. He can't be bothered to do the bare minimum like allow characters to work through the traumatic events they've lived through or even take the time to mourn the loss of a character who was literally there from the beginning. And then he gets to do a movie & he just stuffs it full of old story arcs we've already seen before.

Wow! A character who previously died comes back from the dead? A villain from a past season returns? Scott works at a vet clinic and hates being a werewolf and wants to live a normal life? It's so repetitive and unimaginative.

[dontbipanicjonsa]

A confusing clusterfuck of thoughts re: Jonsa

Or: why the fuck are Jon and Sansa so compatible if they're not canon, huh?

He saw the Wall shining like blue crystal, and his bastard brother Jon sleeping alone in a cold bed, his skin growing pale and hard as the memory of all warmth fled from him. - Bran III AGOT

So....Jon is going to lose memory of all warmth? I'm going to separate the changes brought about in post-resurrection!Jon here as changes caused by death and changes caused by Ghost. This post is only speculating about the changes caused by death i.e. loss of memory of all warmth.

More foreshadowing for that-

Chunks of coal burned in iron braziers at either end of the long room, but Jon found himself shivering. The chill was always with him here. In a few years he would forget what it felt like to be warm. - Jon III AGOT

"It was. The fort is in a sorry state, admittedly. You will restore it as best you can..." ... You'll sleep on stone, too exhausted to complain or plot, and soon you'll forget what it was like to be warm, but you might remember what it was to be a man. - Jon II ADWD

So, I did a word search for warm and memory and I found some interesting stuff. Read under the cut.

1. Home

Jon- warmth and memory of home

The memory of her laughter warmed him on the long ride north. - Jon II AGOT (thinking about Arya)

The weariness came on him suddenly... So cold, he thought, remembering the warm halls of Winterfell, where the hot waters ran through the walls like blood through a man's body. There was scant warmth to be found in Castle Black... - Jon III AGOT

...Iron Emmett was still urging on his charges in the yard. The song of steel on steel woke a hunger in Jon. It reminded him of warmer, simpler days, when he had been a boy at Winterfell matching blades with Robb under the watchful eye of Ser Rodrik Cassel. Ser Rodrik too had fallen, slain by Theon Turncloak... All my memories are poisoned. - Jon VI ADWD

The warmth took some of the ache from his muscles and made him think of Winterfell's muddy pools, steaming and bubbling in the godswood. Winterfell, he thought. Theon left it burned and broken, but I could restore it.-Jon XII ASOS

So, these are the memories of warmth he'll lose? This warmth, that he associates with Winterfell (and the Starks), is the first memory of warmth Jon has.

Dany- memory of home

The door loomed before her, the red door, so close, so close, the hall was a blur around her, the cold receding behind... and all that lived and breathed fled in terror from the shadow of her wings. She could smell home, she could see it, there, just beyond that door, green fields and great stone houses and arms to keep her warm, there. She threw open the door.

"… the dragon …" - Daenerys IX AGOT

Home? The word made her feel sad. Ser Jorah had his Bear Island, but what was home to her? A few tales, names recited as solemnly as the words of a prayer, the fading memory of a red door … was Vaes Dothrak to be her home forever? - Daenerys VI AGOT

..."What shall we talk of?"

"Home," said Dany. "Naath. Butterflies and brothers. Tell me of the things that make you happy, the things that make you giggle, all your sweetest memories. Remind me that there is still good in the world."

Missandei did her best. She was still talking when Dany finally fell to sleep, to dream queer, half-formed dreams of smoke and fire. - Daenerys VIII ADWD

Dany's idea of 'home' changes over the course of the books. In the beginning she uses home for Illyrio's house, or the house with the red door. She very clearly doesn't think of Westeros as her home. After Viserys's death however, there's a sudden shift. Now, Westeros is her long lost home that she must return to someday. It's jarring. Interestingly enough, she pretty clearly rejects the idea of Dothraki khalasars as home, and the only time she calls Meereen home is in her last chapter of ADWD where she's trying to convince herself to return there. But we know that she ultimately rejects that too, in the same chapter.

Sansa- memory of home

Snow was falling on the Eyrie.

Outside the flakes drifted down as soft and silent as memory. Was this what woke me? Already the snowfall lay thick... The sight took Sansa back to cold nights long ago, in the long summer of her childhood. - Sansa VII ASOS

Last of all came the Royces, Lord Nestor and Bronze Yohn... Though his hair was grey and his face lined, Lord Yohn still looked as though he could break most younger men like twigs in those huge gnarled hands. His seamed and solemn face brought back all of Sansa's memories of his time at Winterfell. - Alayne I AFFC

She missed Septa Mordane, and even more Jeyne Poole, her truest friend... She tried not to think of them too often, yet sometimes the memories came unbidden, and then it was hard to hold back the tears. Once in a while, Sansa even missed her sister. By now Arya was safe back in Winterfell... - Sansa II ACOK

Arya coz why not

"Let me tell you something about wolves, child. When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. Summer is the time for squabbles. In winter, we must protect one another, keep each other warm, share our strengths.… Sansa is your sister. You may be as different as the sun and the moon, but the same blood flows through both your hearts. You need her, as she needs you …" - Arya II AGOT

Needle was Robb and Bran and Rickon, her mother and her father, even Sansa. Needle was Winterfell's grey walls, and the laughter of its people. Needle was the summer snows, Old Nan's stories, the heart tree with its red leaves and scary face, the warm earthy smell of the glass gardens, the sound of the north wind rattling the shutters of her room. Needle was Jon Snow's smile. He used to mess my hair and call me "little sister," she remembered, and suddenly there were tears in her eyes. - Arya II AFFC

Again, all this (and much more) is stuff that reminds Sansa (and Arya) of home. This is, presumably, shit that Jon is gonna forget. Or maybe he'll retain the memories and only lose the emotions (warmth) associated with it?

2. Suitors or romantic/sexual partners (+Ben Plumm)

Jon

Many a night he lay with Ygritte warm beside him,... - Jon V ASOS

So, Ygritte becomes his second memory of warmth.

When he turned he saw Ygritte.

...cloaked in darkness and in memory. The light of the moon was in her hair, her red hair kissed by fire. When he saw that, Jon's heart leapt into his mouth. "Ygritte," he said.

"Lord Snow." The voice was Melisandre's.

Surprise made him recoil from her. "Lady Melisandre." He took a step backwards. "I mistook you for someone else." At night all robes are grey. - Jon VI ADWD

AT NIGHT ALL ROBES ARE GREY...yea I know, this is a well established connection between the Girl in Grey and Ygritte. Since Jon associates Ygritte with warmth so strongly, I think it's safe to assume that the Girl in Grey might play a role in warming him too (hehe).

… one hears queer talk of dragons."

"Would that we had one here. A dragon might warm things up a bit."

"My lord jests. You will forgive me if I do not laugh. We Braavosi are descended from those who fled Valyria and the wroth of its dragonlords. We do not jape of dragons." - Jon IX ADWD

Yikes.

Dany

"If my queen commands," he (Jorah) said, curt and cold.

Dany was warm enough for both of them. "She does," she said. "She commands...

When he was gone, Dany threw herself down on her pillows beside her dragons. She had not meant to be so sharp with Ser Jorah, but his endless suspicion had finally woken her dragon. - Daenerys IV ASOS

So, here the warmth is because of anger (woken the dragon).

Dany could feel the warmth of his fingers. He was warm in Qarth as well, she recalled, until the day he had no more use for me. She rose to her feet. "Come," she said, and Xaro followed her through the pillars... - Daenerys III ADWD

She remembered Ben's face the last time she had seen it. It was a warm face, a face I trusted... Even the dragons had been fond of old Brown Ben, who liked to boast that he had a drop of dragon blood himself. Three treasons will you know. Once for gold and once for blood and once for love. Was Plumm the third treason, or the second? And what did that make Ser Jorah, her gruff old bear? Would she never have a friend that she could trust?- Daenerys VI ADWD

This is twice that Dany associates warmth with people who use/betray her.

"You're hurt," she gasped.

"This?" Daario touched his temple. "A crossbowman tried to put a quarrel through my eye, but I outrode it. I was hurrying home to my queen, to bask in the warmth of her smile." He shook his sleeve, spattering red droplets. - Daenerys VI ADWD

Dawn always came too soon.

...If only she had the power, she would have made their nights go on forever, but the best that she could do was stay awake to try and savor every last sweet moment before daybreak turned them into no more than fading memories....

Dany wrapped her arms around her captain and pressed herself against his back. She drank in the scent of him, savoring the warmth of his flesh, the feel of his skin against her own. Remember, she told herself. Remember how he felt. - Daenerys VII ADWD

Ok, I forgot how smitten Dany was with Daario. It would be cute if Daario wasn't so horrifying. Girl has some seriously questionable taste.

Interestingly, the phrase 'fading memory' is used four times in the text (as far as I can find) and three of those times are in Daenerys's POV. One is in the above quote, where she's commanding herself to remember her time with Daario before her marriage to Hizdahr, and the other time is while thinking about the red door. Both these are memories that are important to her, that connect her to the hopeful/little/not-dark girl she once was.

Sansa

Gently, he spoke of Braavos, and met a wall of sullen courtesy as icy and unyielding as the Wall he had walked once in the north. - Tyrion VIII ASOS

"I am composing a new song, you should know. A song so sweet and sad it will melt even your frozen heart. 'The Roadside Rose,' I mean to call it. About a baseborn girl so beautiful she bewitched every man who laid eyes upon her." - Sansa VII ASOS

"Alayne." Her aunt's singer stood over her. "Sweet Alayne. I am Marillion. I saw you come in from the rain. The night is chill and wet. Let me warm you." - Sansa VI ASOS

You must be very cold. Let me warm you, Sansa. Take off those gloves, give me your hands." - Sansa VII ASOS

Yea no. Sansa has not had a good experience with people offering to warm her (unfreeze her? melt her?)

Looks like in TWOW there's going to be two people in desperate need of some warming.

It's pretty neat actually. Jon associates memories of warmth with two things primarily: Winterfell/the Starks, and Ygritte. Sansa is both a Stark, and a much (much) improved Ygritte.

Sansa's iciness-wall-armour is a form of protection that she employs against predatory men. The only person who can melt her frozen heart...is someone who is not predatory. Someone who cares for her. Jon.

It fits perfectly. They fit perfectly.