#Aphrodite Table Lighter

[ajl1963]

Weekend Treasures - June 2024

[noblesknightsandswords]

Listening Through Imperfection

My eyes hurt. Why do they hurt? Was I blinking or had I stopped again?

I feel stymied, I want to write, to see my words on a page again like they used to always be.

To hear my voice echo out into the white void that is a screen or paper in front of me.

It’s cold outside and I can’t help but constantly think of Christmas Eve church services with the family. Why do I think of that before Christmas when it’s cold? Why does that mean more, feel more magical than even the best of Christmas days? Because I love the night so much? Because that specific night is full of song, candle, family, and freezing air? When I think of Christmas Magic that is what I think of, not Santa or gifts or Christmas feasts. It’s the quiet of the night walking out of a Church we only ever go to on that night, flushed and joyful, met with ice cold air filling my lungs. 

I am human, that can not be changed or conquered in some silly way by some unimagined foe. Imperfection is all I will ever be able to strive for and that’s more beautiful than any perfection possible. What are the angels for if not to whisper well wishes upon the airs of their feathers. Is that not why they fly? Why they see with their so many eyes? Is it not to spot the every imperfection of the human in humanity and still yet whisper “it’s okay”? Is it not what they were put here for, to watch and to guide, they are Hera’s Hundred Eyed Warrior, they are the love of Aphrodite’s Eros. 

The evening has always been my favorite, when it’s dark and light coexisting. I can walk out and breathe in a fresh air better than midday in any season, a perfection in an imperfect world (it is still imperfect, just not to me). A contradiction that makes me a hypocrite. Oh how I hate hypocrites and the act of hating a hypocrite makes me a hypocrite myself. How a wonder continues to travel. Do you understand that the best voices are the ones that play without artificial smoothness? That people cry and acclaim the raspy voice over the smooth clarity because we do not live for perfection, we do not crave perfection. We crave for someone to tell us that there is beauty in our imperfection, and we strive to show others how wondrous imperfectability is.

Sometimes I am tired, sometimes as I write my throat begins to ache as if I was saying this all, as if I was singing this all non stop and continuously. I can feel it crawl up and out from my lips like an internal smoke to match the eternal flame that burns deep within my cavity, begging to be seen. Not to show, but to provide light, to burn and be fed. The smoke floats higher than I will ever walk, the smoke floats and flies as I lay back in the grass and stare into the sky. Is it day, is it night? Am I staring into endless blue, or the magic of sunset or the mystic beauty of the stars beaming? 

I feel lighter each time I do something like this, it’s like arguing a point, debating a right and my legs don’t shake and I hurt nobody. It’s perfect in the way it will never be perfect because I remain unheard when this remains on a paper rather than screamed through a hall, debated sitting at a table, to be told through tales at a fire. It’s burning that star I’m made of brighter without burning anything around. 

Is this what it feels like to fall in love again, with the words I can put on a page and the ability to read it and feel passion? To see the imagery and understand myself again? To love life and see how bright the grass is, how deep the brown of bark? Am I seeing the world in it’s bright colors the same way I did when I sang annoying little tunes non stop? Before I knew what it was like for my throat to hurt?

Annoying. Annoying little tunes. I do not think that. They were passion and joy and the love of a child for the life they had. Others told me it was annoying and so I silenced myself for a constant noise is unkind to others. A fraction of my words and thoughts were spilling from between my lips and dripping between my teeth but others could not handle the quantity and consistency I was constantly swallowing. Do they think the thickness thinned just because I was able to prevent it from spilling between my lips as I grew? 

I must remarry myself with the child I was and understand the cruelty of the world ruined me, and I must bury my corpse and pray upon the altar of my headstone and tip my face to the stars when it begins to rain. I will live again, I will continue to grow as the roots of my skeleton continue to spread to others. I will continue to live and I will allow my words and songs to seep from my skin to those around me and share myself with them. I will never be silent as a grave again.

This is a death. This is a death that will never spread and no one else ever remembered the story to. I am here again and I will sing in the eerie silences and at the festival grounds. It will not matter because I rose from the dirt singing and I will never go silent again, I cannot be made to do so. This is my child with the ability to destroy, this is the me that others were so afraid was right. I will continue and as my bone-roots spread, so will my wish, and every word will mean something as the dark of night spreads through and peace is allowed in love. It is not a war to be yourself and fall in love with life. My smoke will rise and coat the sky and its smog will pollute the earth with Joy. My fire will burn and keep my chest alight to guide others in the shadowed night.

[ghostjelliess]

Lu finished his loneliness-themed assignment and uploaded it to the class drive, nervous to be graded and peer reviewed for the first time. He’d tried, in his own rebellious way, to present one of those illegal emotions through an otherwise innocent image. He’d drafted and redrafted, thought and questioned, and failed on his own, created a composition that was neither requisition nor directed by commission, and would in no way win even a half-hearted compliment from Pa. The proud anxiety sat around him like a cloud in the cafe as his leg bounced and he ate the small cake Adon had set on the table beside him hours ago. 

He thought of all the changes he might have made: line weights, color choices, the angle of the light from the lantern he’d added on a whim, wondering if some might interpret it as death guiding souls when he’d titled it Hope and meant it to be guiding the living out of that cruel smog of depression and filled every darkly contrasted shadow with creeping monsters stalking the lone wanderer as he fled toward the light. People would always see whatever they wanted in art, that had never bothered him like it did his classmates, taught to control their emotions and follow ARC standards while Pa gifted Lu lighters and told him to win first place no matter what. 

Adon stood apron-less over his table and Lu jumped up with a smile, his unease vanishing as he tossed his tablet in his bag and held out his hand. Adon took it confidently and they stepped into the crowded corridor, and jogged to the transport center where Adon let him call a private car up to Chrome so they could get there in time. 

They chattered the whole way, excited but hesitant, juggling futures and ideas, what-ifs and we-coulds, Adon incessantly reminding Lu that Aphro and Mess were his first priority, and Lu doing his best not to curse Aphrodite, though his struggle was detailed clearly on his face.

The CAPT building glowed iridescent in the glossy reflection of Chroma night lights, nothing like the brutalist test entrance. Adon inhaled, stretching his neck to take in the architectural marvel that was as much a tourist destination as it was the pinnacle of hope and dread for those Calderans who sat on the edges between the Mids and the Ground. Adon hefted his bag and straightened his uniform, turning to Lu, his face tight with apprehension. 

Lu gripped his shoulders with a proud shrug, “top ten, easy. You know you’re at least top fifty or you wouldn’t be here.”

“Top fifty percent,” Adon corrected. He attempted a smile, but his eyes fell nervously to his feet, “I thought the top fifty of each test slot got called in for a score meeting, but it’s just the top fifty percent of the entire block group, which is about ten groups.” His dread rose as he tried to clarify what he’d explained wrongly, “so if I didn’t get first in my block, there’s no way I could get top ten…” Adon pushed his hair back.

Lu blinked at him, “so then it’s even more amazing that you made the top fifty percent, isn’t it?”

Adon chewed his lip, nodding at his shoes. 

Lu lifted his chin, “you worked really hard, Adon. You deserve to be proud of that, no matter the outcome. And,” Lu smiled, tweaking his cheeks, “I’m sure you did amazing! We’re just here to find out how amazing. You’re just here to find out if you’re moving to the Mids at the end of the term, or maybe a little bit after that.”

Adon frowned, then nodded with self-convincing confidence, “yeah… yeah, there are retakes.”

“Yeah,” Lu confirmed proudly, though he hadn’t even considered retakes. Who would score high enough to get a private score meeting just to go and retake the torture test?

[sirisuorionblack]

Hiii! I'm so happy your requests are open! I just found out you're Desi too and I was wondering if you could write a Sirius Black × Desi reader. Maybe like she and James are close or something cause they're both brown and James being protective of her. No pressure I totally understand if you don't want to tho

A beautiful birthday gift

Sirius Black x Desi!Fem!Reader

Summary - Diwali had been something that Sirius knew nothing of and the one you always looked for but when it clashes with Sirius' birthday, you have the best gift planned.

Warnings - mentions of fireworks, tears (?) and yeah...yeah...

A/N Ooookkkaaayyy!!! So many things to say! First of all! Thank you soo much for requesting!! Second: I wrote this from Sirius' POV, so it was actually fun to interpret things that were something common in the eyes of a foreigner. And I genuinely wanted James and Sirius to wear dhotis (because I am a South Indian and we don't wear kurtas) but yeah, they are wearing kurtas due to reasons~. This was kinda messy and long and kinda a lot. But yus!

The morning was hectic in the Potters’ household as Sirius slowly stumbled into the living room. Mrs Potter sat at the dining table, working away with flour and jars of spices and liquified butter by her side while Mr Potter tried to help her. Sirius chuckled as he watched her slap her husband’s hands away from the raw delicacies on the table.

“Quit staring, mate,” James said, patting Sirius in the back as he pushed past him, “You’ll get your romantic moments one day too.”

“And that day is probably very far,” You said, walking past him and Sirius felt like he had been caught in an all too slow whirlwind as he stared at you. Your beauty would give Aphrodite a run for her money, your smile would brighten up his days and your eyes. Oh, your eyes that were the deepest shade of brown but turning a little lighter as the sunlight blinded you, pulling Sirius into a pitless end that he happily wished to memorise. He would have sighed.

“I said, quit staring,” James hissed and jabbed him in the ribs, “And she has never been more right in her life.”

“I’m always right,” You scowled at him.

James scoffed, “Of course, always,” he rolled his eyes, receiving a stamp to his feet that soothed Sirius’ aching ribs.

“What's going on there?” Sirius could hear Euphemia call and James answer her but it felt like a distant hum as you stared at him. He was in love and he knew it. Perhaps, not love but he knew what he felt for you was not the same way as James did. James would gladly spend his day if you were not there but it would be the worst day of Sirius’ life. James would not mind sitting between his mother and best friend but Sirius would be disappointed if he did not sit next to you. James didn't mind when your attention drifted from him but Sirius would fiercely despise whatever stole your attention from him.

"Sirius, which one looks better?" You weighed two sets of glass bangles in each hand, one glimmering as the light reflected off the stunning stones on the deep blue bangles and the other covered with shiny glitter that almost hid the entire deep pink surface.

"Uh," Sirius swayed his finger from one set to another before suggesting, "The blue?"

"Alright! Thanks!" You rushed back to your room, leaving Sirius to gawk after you.

"I swear, Sirius Black," James rolled his eyes from next to his mother, "If you keep staring at people and be useless, I'll punch those pearly whites right out."

"Oh, come on, Potter," Sirius smirked as he sauntered to the dining table, "You can't touch me."

"Is that a challenge?" James asked, narrowing his eyes, mockingly.

"Of course," Mrs Potter glared at the two of them, "That better be a challenge, it has after all been a really long time since I've used my rolling pin."

“Sorry,” James returned to his task, wide-eyed.

Time slipped through his fingers as Sirius gaped at Mr Potter sharing stories of his childhood. It was the first time Sirius had spent the winter break with the Potters after he received a glorious letter from his mother rather politely asking him not to be seen anywhere near the Grimmauld Place to hold up her lies that her eldest son had been sent away to practice whatever that he was supposed to.

It was November and an ignorant voice inside Sirius said that the delicacies made were for his birthday which Mr Potter immediately crushed by announcing that it was a famous festival to be celebrated with fireworks and earthen lamps. Sirius had almost zoned out half of what Mr Potter had to say as his mind glid to the idea of having possession of such marvellous firecrackers and you. He wondered how you would look with your beautiful dress and gleaming jewels. Divine, certainly. You never failed to look anything less than that.

Soon, the clock ticked 5 and Mrs Potter did not waste time to usher them to their rooms after thrusting a couple of packages into Sirius and James’ hands.

“What in merlin’s name-?” Sirius’ jaw dropped to the ground as James turned around in his fresh attire, his arms spread wide with a smirk adorning his lips. This was not the James he was used to. That boy was messy, his shirt always having a patch of dirt and his trousers never not crumpled but the boy before him was different. James looked flaunting in his black shirt that extended till his knees, studded with golden buttons and sleeves rolled to his elbow.

“You think this is a shirt, don't you?” James asked, glaring at him or probably at the unopened package in his hand.

“Is that not what it is?” Sirius asked, fiddling with the thread that held the package closed, “It does look like an elongated shirt.”

“I mean-” James frowned, “Well, it is called a kurta but I presume you are not wrong,” he sighed as if Sirius had made him question something he shouldn't before shaking his head, “Just get ready sooner or mum will whip our asses with that wretched rolling pin of hers.”

“She wouldn't exactly, would she?” Sirius asked, feeling almost stupid as he spoke out loud.

“Of course, she wouldn't! But she likes to use to keep us under check,” James ran a hand through his unruly hair in a futile attempt to brush it down, “It works magnificently.”

“Do I have the same dress?” Sirius stared at the package in his hand, trailing the creases on it with his wand.

“Probably,” James shrugged, “And if yes, then I want you to stay as far away from your dear girl as possible. I don't want any nieces or nephews running around just yet.”

“What the-?” Sirius cursed, his attention perking up as heat rushed to his cheeks. He probably glowed red.

“Don't get your hopes high, mate,” James chuckled, catching the pillow Sirius threw at him with little to no effort, “I am talking about her. I swear on Merlin’s stinky underpants that she looks like a goddess in that dress of hers. Besides, I didn't even tell who “your dear girl” was,” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“James Potter, you are so close to being hexed till you can do nothing,” Sirius threatened, hoping his bright cheeks would not tamper with his ferociousness, “And you don't have to tell her name, you always insinuate the same person. Moreover, who else other than her is going to be “my dear girl”?!”

“Whatever your save is, mate,” James waved a dismissive hand with a roll of his eyes before turning serious, “I don't want you doing any of your usual ruckuses with her. Nothing at all.”

“What usual ruckuses-” Realisation hit Sirius like a brick to his head, falling to his heart at the thought of his best friend thinking such of him but he knew it was not James’ fault. It was a reputation he built for himself. “Oh, James, really?”

“Yes, Sirius, really,” James said, crossing his arms over his chest, “I don't want you doing any of your shenanigans with her, alright? She is almost like my sister.”

Sirius sighed. There was no win for him in this situation. He had to promise James that he would not try to bed you which, assuredly, leads to unimaginable torture from not just James but Peter, Remus and Regulus too. But why should he guarantee James? Did he like you? Of course, he did but would he go any limits to get to you? Sirius didn't know but this promise was something genuine and his instinct forced him to reassure his dear best friend.

“I don't wish to do anything with her, James,” Sirius stated, firmly. Perhaps, not anything. He still hoped to hold your hand when they brushed against each other while walking side by side. He still wanted to hug you close to his chest and smile into your hair a little longer. He still desired to hear you speak late into the night and fall asleep with your head on his shoulder. Sirius would never not crave to see the shine in your beautiful eyes as you threw your head back, beaming with laughter.

“Alright,” James sighed, before sniffing the air, “You get ready and I’ll go sneak us something.”

Sitting alone in the silence of the room, Sirius slowly pulled away the strings of the package to find a letter, a tiny box and the same black kurta as James.

Dear Sirius,

Happy birthday, son! We know its tough for you at the moment but remember: we will always be there for you when you need us the most. James and us. Now, since you are turning 16, and it's on the glorious day of Diwali, don't think we forgot your birthday. There are more surprises waiting for you!

Love,

Mr and Mrs Potter.

Teardrops fell on the letter, smudging the ink on the parchment as Sirius held the letter close to his heart, before reaching into his pocket to retrieve another letter in a similar condition from his brother that he had received early in the morning. It was as if Reggie had charmed the letter to echo “I love you” in his brother’s voice whenever Sirius touched the letter.

The smile on Mr and Mrs Potter’s face was utterly genuine that made Sirius stumble the staircase as he descended in the beautiful clothes that showed off every visible inch of him in the shining lights of the earthen lamps lit around the living room, the watch around his wrist glimmering.

“What the hell?” James said, his mouth stuffed with food, “Why does he look better than me in this?”

“Because he is genuinely handsome,” You said from beside him and at that moment Sirius was afraid he would collapse to his knees at your striking beauty. The blue blouse studded with tiny gold specks gleamed as the lights glowed beneath you as your deep blue skirt graced the floor and Sirius wanted nothing more than to spin you around and watch them flare out in a spectacular formation. Your hair was knotted neatly, falling over one side of your shoulder as a couple of curly strands framed your face, and your earrings that resembled an umbrella touched the deep pink shawl bordered with gold, draped over your other shoulder. Something sparkled catching Sirius’ eyes and his heart bloomed with knowledge of the bangles he had chosen and the various rings adorning your fingers.

“Oh, Merlin,” James groaned, “Will you two stop staring at each other?”

“Shut up,” You slapped his arm but seemed to shake yourself slightly, trying to break out of a trance while Sirius didn't even attempt to. He was perfectly content to be drowning in your beauty.

“Alright, kids, enough of those and go get the firecrackers,” Mrs Potter said, as she pulled her husband after her.

“I’ll go get them,” James offered, patting your arm, “And leave you two lovebirds alone,” he winked at Sirius and murmured something fast in your ears and Sirius could make out strange and unnecessary words like “path”, “room”, “interest” and the only word he knew in your language “no”. Sirius, however, knew your response extremely well as you silently cursed at James till he ran for life. The only good Sirius ever received out of having bilingual best friends were the curses and he was glad for it.

Sirius had wanted James to leave as early as possible but only after his best friend was out of his sight did he wish to have a boost of confidence by his side.

“So, uhm,” Sirius wrung his hands together, twisting the ring on his finger, “You look absolutely stunning.” He cursed himself for sounding so breathless.

“Thank you,” You chuckled, rubbing the back of your neck, “I didn't think you’d look so wonderful in your kurta. I mean like I did know that you’d look handsome but I didn't know-” you sighed, “Oh, forget it. You look beautiful too.”

Sirius laughed with the realisation that he was in love. He had never craved to hear someone call him beautiful, he knew it as if it was a universal truth but hearing it from your lips made him yearn for more.

James groaned as he returned just when Sirius’ laughter died down, leaving the two of you wrapped in awkward silence.

“How are you going to live together if you cant manage a conversation for two minutes?” James scolded, his hands placed on either side of his hips, “Like, I’m disappointed in you both,” He clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“Quit being dramatic,” You rolled your eyes, “And go get the firecrackers before your mum comes.”

“And what are you going to do, your highness?” James asked.

“Queens don't work, Potter,” You smirked, doing an elaborate action of teasing James before you turned to Sirius waving your hand, “Bye, Sirius. Take care of some atrocious shits around here.”

“He is the shit,” James cursed, but Sirius was too caught in the wave of your hand. He had just noticed the beautiful designs on them, as dark as your eyes.

“It’s called henna,” James slapped Sirius on the back of his head as he dragged him to the basement, “It's like a temporary tattoo.”

“Was that what they were doing yesterday? Your mum fed her. Was that why?” Sirius asked, remembering watching you with Mrs Potter last evening, and he had been too indulged in your smile to notice your hands.

“Yep,” James said, bitterly, “She only feeds me if I break my right hand, not even left.”

Sirius caught the package of firecrackers James threw at him and trekked their way up, “You could have gotten the henna too.”

James looked at him, impressed, “You are turning brilliant as the day goes by, pads. I'm proud of you.”

“You are an asshole, Potter,” Sirius shook his head with a smile.

“And you love assholes.”

“Finally, you boys are back,” Mrs Potter guided them to the front porch of the Potter’s Manor where dozens of earthen lamps had been lit in perfect shapes and designs. Whatever it was that controlled Sirius’ life had decided that he would be so close to kneeling to goddesses multiple times a day.

You sat between a round of lit lamps, lighting the one in the middle with a candle. Strands of hair fell to your face and Sirius had never felt an urge so strong to push them away from your beautiful eyes where he could see the flames dancing. You looked beyond beautiful.

“Here,” Mrs Potter handed Sirius a firecracker and then to James, “We’ll burst the rest later, James. Patience.”

“How later?” James asked, twisting the metallic end of the stick studded with shining, tiny crystals of grey.

“Later enough for you to combust with it,” you said, joining Sirius' side with a stick of your own, clutching between your fingers.

And soon “later” came along and Sirius was astonished as with a flick Mrs Potter’s wand the earthen lamps disappeared to thing air, lining neatly back in the living room as James rushed to place tiny cone-like things one by one at equal distances.

James passed him a new stick, this one resembling exactly that of a matchstick but much longer and he knew exactly what he needed for it but James felt the necessity to show him what use it had and so did you.

“Why don't you two try it together?” Mr Potter suggested, sounding almost annoyed, “People are waiting in line.”

“Alright,” James agreed, reluctantly, shooting you a sharp glance, “But I’ll light it!”

“What is the point of doing it together then?!” You asked, glaring at him and Sirius knew you were close to slapping his best friend across the face.

“Just come on,” James took your wrist and the two of you rushed to the cone, the lighted end of the stick held against the wick of the cone, lighting the cracker along with the fire in Sirius’ heart.

He was too focused on James’ hand on your wrist that he missed the colourful sparks that spiralled out of the tiny cone, like an active volcano shooting out lava but much colourful and beautiful.

“Your turn!” You said, stretching out a matchstick for Sirius and he might have just snapped at you had he not seen the beautiful smile on your face that resembled a little child’s excitement when their parents agreed on something.

Instead, he found himself saying, “Help me out?” He definitely didn't need help. Without even the help of his wand, the cone would be ablaze, lighting the entire night sky.

“Of course,” you said, winking as you entwined your fingers with Sirius’. Had he been one to watch it all happen from afar, he would have probably laughed till he had to be sent to St. Mungo’s.

By the end of the celebration, everyone had been beyond exhausted and eager to get rid of the clothes but the tempting delicacies laid in a beautiful array had made them stay a bit longer. Mr and Mrs Potter were the first to resign to their bedrooms and James followed suit. It looks almost planned as the only people left in the house awake to be you and Sirius, slouched next to each other on the couch.

“Did you like it?” You asked, playing with the spoon dipped into your kheer, “It is been so long since I’ve celebrated Diwali,”

“And I have never celebrated but it's honestly extremely beautiful,” Sirius lost count of how many times he had used that word in one day. Today was truly such an abnormal one.

“Oh! I forgot!” You sat up with a newfound energy that was so contagious that Sirius perked up with a smile, “I got you something for your birthday,” a smirk made its way to your face as your hand slowly crept towards his.

“You remember it?” Sirius recalled mentioning it to you long ago for he replayed all your conversations in his mind as he laid awake in his cold bed. He held your hand.

“Why would you think I’d forget it?” You asked, your thumb running small circles on the back of his hand.

“I dunno,” Sirius shrugged, careful enough to not move his hand that held yours in a light grip. “I just thought it wouldn't be of great significance.”

“Great significance?” You asked, chuckling as if he had just said the most absurd lies you’ve ever heard, “Darling, it's your birthday.”

Words after your sweet endearment were beyond his comprehension. Sirius must have visibly shivered because you held his hand a little tighter before saying, “I don't know if what I am going to say is of much “significance” but, um, we’ve known each for almost six years now.”

He didn't know if it was the exhaustion crawling in his bones but you seemed a lot closer to him than ever and he could clearly see the deep brown of your iris giving way to the black pupils and Sirius wanted nothing more than to just stare at them forever.

“And-” You seemed lost for words as you held his hand and played with the stray strands of the gold threads in your neat skirt, “Wow, I-” you chuckled, “I don know. What the-” Sirius had to act and he did.

He pressed his lips against yours and he could feel you freeze completely against him before slowly leaning closer, your hand pressed against his chest, right above his heart. Oh, Sirius was stupid.

Time was unknown, a distant speck of light decorating the beautiful moment, when Sirius pulled away from you, resting his forehead against yours.

“You know, if my parents see this right now, they'd definitely kill me,” You whispered into the night as your eyes stayed shut.

“Your parents are not here, my love,” he said, and squeezed your hand when he felt you shiver, “It's just the two of us.”

“Do you like your birthday gift?” You asked, timidly.

Sirius laughed, pulling you into his arms as he sat with his back against the couch, “The best birthday ever.”

“I, also, did this,” You held your hand out before him and Sirius could see the beautiful designs that weaved into each other forming exquisite creations and if he squinted enough he could barely make out the ‘S’ inserted between each design in the most subtle way possible, “That says Padfoot in my language. Probably not the best idea but yes.”

“Do you remember how I was yelling at James yesterday?” you curled into his chest, your feet hidden beneath your long skirt.

He did. Sirius had returned to the living room occupied by just you and James last night right before you yelled out your last curse and stormed past him.

“It is said that when you do the henna and the darker it gets is the more you are loved by your, well, you know?” You motioned vaguely, and continued as Sirius nodded, “So, I was pissed because that donkey,” you cursed in your language, “Messed up my henna but guess what? Today morning I woke up and it was the darkest henna that has ever been on my hand.”

Sirius chuckled. He loves you. He knew it. The want to hold you in his arms were not just for tonight or for a month it was for as long as he breathed. He wanted to be with you, as yours, forever.

“I love you,” He whispered, like a revelation so vulnerable that a strong wind could disrupt the fragility but he could hear you draw in a sharp breath as you leaned even closer.

“Can you say it again?” you asked, your eyes closed as if you would feel his words.

“I love you,” tears slipped your closed eyes as the words soaked in.

“I love you too, Sirius,” You said, words that would echo in Sirius’ ears when he felt like the world caved in on him, “I love you.”

"Can I ask you something?" Sirius asked, pressing his forehead against yours, his hands brushing against the rough fabric of your dress, "What does the 'S' in your henna mean?"

"It means you are my soulmate," You answered, pressing your lips to his.

[futurewriter2000]

Little Secrets - pt. 2

A/N: I couldn't found a perfect gif. Okay?! But this is the closest I could get. Plus, I really have to go to the bathroom, so this is the quickest gif I could find. I also spent three days writing this because I had about thousands of scenes in my head but I had to write only one. I love it. Hope yall love it too <3

XX

All five of you have been sitting at the table; your father, James, Sirius, you and your mother, who had just brought some tea.

Sirius has been smiling at you. You had been smiling at him but not because you had pleasantly enjoyed his sudden appearance, though he was a quite fit young man, but because it was all so amusing.

"So you have a sister?" Sirius turned his head to James, quirking an eyebrow.

"Yes..." James smiled awkwardly. "My younger sister, (Y/N)."

"That you had never mentioned." you grit your teeth a little and raised an eyebrow.

"Why haven't you, son?" asked your father, meanwhile your mother went to get Sirius some warm clothes.

"...it... didn't come in conversation..." James shrugged.

Both you and Sirius let out a laugh, exchanging a familiar look, as if the two of you were old friends already.

"Does anybody in Hogwarts know that you have a sister?" you asked, getting more stiff and angry, though you pretty much knew the answer. "I mean, some purebloods surely have to know." your tone started to get louder, causing James to sink in his chair. "Or was the fact that you have a Squib sister put shame to your popular reputation?" you stood up from your chair, glaring at your brother and seeing his friend stare at you with wide eyes.

You were a Squib?

You ignored his expression and made your way up-stairs, going off to bed. You didn't cry and you didn't yell. You weren't really sad to cry or angry to yell... you were just confused. That's all.

---

A few days passed and you didn't much talk to James. You avoided him, called a few friends and went into town with them. They were all mostly Muggles and you didn't mind that. You kept your secret life separate but you did tell them that your brother was keeping you as some sort of secret from his friends and the only explanation you had was that he was some sort of ashamed of you.

"That's rubbish, Pea."

That's what your friends called you. A nickname from the first day of school all those years ago, there was a little accident with peas at lunch. Everybody called you Pea since then. Everybody except your family.

"Than what other explanation is there?" you started to get frustrated, digging your head into your hands. "I just don't understand!"

"Why don't you just ask him?"

"I did. He's determined to avoid the topic." you drank your coffee and threw yourself back.

"And his friend?" she raised one of her eyebrows.

"Sirius."

"Sirius. What a name..." she started to tease you. "Is he cute?"

"He is." you smiled a bit. "Quite fit."

"Uff! What does he look like?"

"Well, he's tall, a bit shorter than Jamie but he's got a gorgeous face. Like if Aphrodite had a son with Kleopatra, he'd be the product of them."

"Hell, that good looking?" she rolled her eyes, thinking you were being your usual sarcastic self.

But you weren't. He was literally beautiful. "Okay, look. I am not in love with the guy. I just have eyes and my eyes love pretty things. He is one of those pretty things."

"Objectifying now, are we?" she continued to tease.

"You know what I meant."

"What about Alissa?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows and causing you to sink in your chair.

"What about Alissa?" you smiled sheepeshly.

"I saw the way she hugged you in front of school."

"Yeah but I don't know if she's into... you know..."

"Girls?"

"Yes! It's so hard to tell. I mean, she gives me so many signs-"

"There you go. She likes you."

"- but then she also ignores me at times. Like this hot-and-cold energy."

"Oh." your friend frowned at the sight and slumped her shoulders. "How about we go to a party tonight? You and me-"

"And?"

"Some friends." she grinned.

"Whiskey?" you grinned as well, feeling so much lighter at the proposition.

"There has to be whiskey. If not, we're leaving."

"Okay, let me just call mum. Tell her, I'm going to be a tad late." you winked at her and ran to the payphone at the back of the cafe. You spun the number and waited.

Your family loved the phone. Being a wizard, the communication usually fell through the letters but since you lived with one foot in the Muggle world, the discovery of the payphone has made you overly-excited as well as your parents. The communication was much faster and you could always call your home whenever you needed.

"Hello?" there was a foreign voice that only seemed to belong to one person in that house.

"Sirius? Is that you?"

"What kind of sorcery is this?!" he shouted into the phone. "Who is this!?"

"Sirius, it's (Y/N)."

"Oh! James' little secret sister."

"Yeah, that one." you rolled your eyes.

"Are you stuck in there?"

"Where?"

"In this tiny box? Do I have to call your mum to get you out?"

"Sirius, this is a phone."

"Oh! I've heard of those. It's a Muggle thing." he let out a laugh. "Foolish little thing. When you can just write something and poof it to someone's way."

"Well, I can't really poof it, can't I?" you smiled as you heard him gulp on the other side.

"Uh... sorry... I forgot."

"It's fine." you giggled, letting him know you are not offended from his reckless words. "Can you get mum anyway?"

"Why?"

"Because I have to tell her I'm going to come home late today."

"Oh." you could see him leaning on the wall and smirking at the idea. "Where are you off to?"

"Only a friend's house.

"A-ha." he doubted. "Friend's house." he continued to speak in a mocking tone. "Am I-"

"Oh, you've discovered the phone." you heard James in the background, laughing. "Who is it?"

"This thing is magnificent, Prongs. I can talk to her like she's here, though she's not in this tiny little box.... is she?" he whispered the last part, covering the phone.

"It's (y/n)? Is she still mad at me?" he leaned on the phone. "Stop being such a stubborn little arse and get over it!" he shouted, meanwhile you rolled your eyes.

"She says she's staying at a friend's house?" said Sirius.

"No, she's not." James laughed. "Her friend, Mandy, lives with her uncle who doesn't approve of (y/n) what-so-ever. She's going to a party."

"Am not!" you shouted through the phone, clearly lying. "I'm not going to Mandy's... I'm going to Zoe's."

"Zoe? I thought she goes to Greece during the summer."

"She's staying this summer. Broke a leg."

"Broke a leg my arse!" James shouted.

"Can we come too?" you heard Sirius through the phone.

"Maybe next time. I don't think I can manage James' face without punching it yet." you shrugged.

"Can I come then?"

"Oi! Don't be a prick."

"What?! It's a party!"

"Just tell mum I'm coming home late and that-" and with that the call got cut. You looked at it with surprise and then just shrugged. "They got the message."

---

You had come home, not drunk, not tipsy... just a little dazed. You wished you were wasted but a memory of you not being able to walk a few years ago due to some heavy home-made Scottish Whiskey, you had decided that getting wasted wasn't worth it.

You put your shoes away carefully and quietly before going to the kitchen. A simple walk home sobered you up. You could walk normally, feel lighter on your feet but wanting to collapse into your bed as soon as possible. Though you were starving, so the fridge was the first stop. Toast, mayo, baloney and cheese.

"Mmmmmm." you rolled your eyes back from the delicious flavor in your mouth, almost melting as it filled your stomach. When your eyes rolled back to the sandwich you felt like you saw a spark of light from the corner of your eye. You glanced back up and saw a familiar figure standing on the porch.

He was leaning over the fence, mind deep in thought, eyes far in the distance. Brushing your hands on your pants, you opened the door from the porch and peeked out.

"Peek a boo." you said casually but he didn't budge, only turned back calmly.

He gave you a soft smile and moved a little to give you space. "How was the party?" he said as he flickered the cigarette away, shutting up the grasshoppers.

"Eh." you shrugged, mimicking his position. "Wasn't really a party, more like a friendly gathering."

"Bummer."

"Not really." you laughed. "There were all these random people, Muggles as you call them and I knew three or four of them. People kept leaving and coming, random people that I know from school but never really hung out with them, you know?" you looked at him and he smiled, listening on. "And I did talk and flirt with this guy, who kept coming onto me but all the time I kept observing others and by the end of the night, when I came home, there was only one person on my mind and it wasn't that guy- that random, thought quite charming and nice guy- but it was this girl from school with pretty bluish-greenish-brownish eyes."

"All three colours?" he laughed.

"They change colour a lot, okay?" you laughed. "But it's not even the colour, more like the way she looks at me- like she's in love with me but I don't know if she's in love with me because one day she's all for it and another moment she's ignoring me. It's so frustrating."

"So you like girls?"

"More or so. I don't mind guys either."

"Which one do you prefer?" he asked from curiosity.

Though it wasn't one of your favorite questions to hear, you still replied casually. "It's not the matter of preference, more like the matter of which I fall in love with. Guys are simple. They think simple and there's no secret meaning behind their words. You know when they want to snog you or shag you or when they want something serious or not serious. Simple."

"And girls are not simple?" he laughed.

"Oh, girls are so complicated!" you groaned. "Not all of them of course. Not me." you laughed and he chuckled as well.

"Not you?"

"No. I don't like to complicate things just because of how my last girl did."

"Your ex?"

"Not really an ex. It was an odd situation but listen up to this." you started to get more comfortable. "She and me have been writing to each other- she was a tough nut to crack to be honest. I was breaking the ice with that girl for like a year and a half. She was hot and cold with me. I never knew what she meant. One day she was giving me hints she was into me, another times she was completely ignoring me."

"Is this the same girl you talked about before?"

"No-" you stopped, thinking back a little. "Though it is a similar situation, isn't it?" you asked him, meanwhile he laughed.

"I think so."

"Hm... I'll get back to that thought." you pinned the realisation down and continued with the story. "Okay, so she was finally starting to open up to me- also she was tall and dark and gorgeous green eyes, super hot- I can't leave that out."

"No, you can't."

"She was getting to open up, telling me stuff about her family, her friends, which classmates she hated and I was getting excited because LOOKIE THAT! SHE MIGHT TAKE A FANCY IN ME." you said over-excitedly, throwing your hands in the air before your face and your hands fell back down. "And then I see her hugging a boy in the hall and suddenly they're both dating."

"Oh, bummer!" He laughed. "She was straight."

"Oh, hell no." you laughed. "That girl was definitely not straight but her parents were, so-"

"Oh, makes sense."

"Perfectly good sense. She's studying to become a lawyer."

"A lawyer?"

"Yes, a lawyer."

"Bet her parents are happy."

"Over the moon, I suppose."

"And you?"

"Eh. I moved on from her a long time ago. To be honest, I just liked the chase." you let out another laugh and he rolled his eyes.

"Really?"

"I always love a little chase or runner dynamic."

"So you're the chaser?"

"Or the runner, depends which one I'm feeling. Today was more like a runner but when I play the runner, they really give up easily, you know?"

"I actually do know." he shook his head a bit, pulled out another cigarette and lit it up. "Does James know?"

"He does but not about... you know... them. He just knows about it."

"What do you mean?" he started to laugh again. You were funny. He liked funny girls and from the way you reacted to James' little secret, he thought you'd be just like the others but you were so simple and funny with a tad of mystery in your eyes.

"He only knows bits of it."

"Bits of it?" he quirked an eyebrow. "I thought the two of you tell each other everything."

"Clearly not." you rolled your eyes and dropped your head back. "I'm a secret."

"A pretty secret." he blurted out before he could help himself. Noticing what he had said as he had watched you drop your head back, your hair flowing in mid air and your eyes focused on the distance, he really couldn't keep it in. James kept you a secret. A pretty little secret and he never understood why. He had known him for so long and he hadn't mentioned you once in all those years. Did Peter know? Or Remus? Or did really nobody know that James Potter really had a younger sister, who had no magical abilities.

"You think I'm pretty?" you smirked, quirking an eyebrow yourself.

He let out an embarrassed laugh and looked away just before his eyes locked with yours again, the blue that is bright in the day, now dark, almost black in the night. "I have eyes, (y/n). It's just a mere observation."

"Oh." you laughed as well, jumping down from the fence and putting your hand on his shoulder. "Than as a mere observation, I can say that you are extremely hot." you put your hand on his cheek and tapped it a few times just before you made your way to your bed. "Goodnight, Sirius Black."

He watched you walk away with his cheeks burning red. Bold, daunting- you were. Similar in a way with how James acted but he had to admit that you seemed quite more of an adventure than James. It sounded ignorant to say that. You were new, something hidden, now on the surface where he can marvel at you. He felt just a little bit more excited than the day he met James. Such a thrill, knowing that he has all the summer getting to spend with you.

[beaute-epoustouflante]

War Time AU║Bill & Fleur 1997

“I am going to start dinner, but keep going wizout me.” Fleur whispered against Bills ear before she stood, using Bills leg to push herself up onto her feet from the sofa that she had been squeezed in between Bill and Tonks as order business was discussed. 

She felt the blood drain from her head as she moved from the sitting room full of order members and into the kitchen where the voices began to fade. She grabbed the bench for support, catching herself while she swayed with dizziness before lowering herself into the kitchen floor. Fleur pulled her legs up to her chest letting her head rest against her knees, her breathing had become shallow and quick as her body fought to pump oxygen to her brain. She took long deep breaths in and out endeavouring to control her drumming heart and spinning head. 

“Fleur?” A voice filled the kitchen sending a jolt though Fleurs body. Her head shot up and collided with the cabinet behind her. “Uh.” She winced before responding to the voice. “Yes?” She massaged the back of her head. 

“What are you doing down there?” Molly rounded the end of the counter and peered down at a very pale looking Fleur. “I was feeling a little dizzy but I am better now.” Fleur spoke using the counter top to pull herself back up onto her feet. Her face flushed red, embarrassment driving her to her feet long before her body was ready to be vertical again.

“You don’t look well Fleur.” Molly diagnosed, “Sit down.” Molly pulled out one of the seats from the kitchen table and guided Fleur into it. 

“I am fine, only tired and I ‘ave not eaten as much as I should ‘ave today, eets been so busy around ‘ere today wiz ze guests staying and ze order meeting. And wiz Beel being away at work all night I ‘ave not been sleeping well.” Fleur tried to explain as Molly moved through the kitchen. The fear grew each evening as Fleur watched Bill disappear into the night for his evening shifts at Gringotts. She worried each and every time that he left out that door, worried for his safety, worried if he would return to her. The dark and eerie nights brought fear that consumed her, it filled her with terror and unrest. The darkness outside shell cottage brought the shadows that moved, the noises that sparked her imagination and the nightmares that plagued her sleep. There was no Bill to calm those fears, just an empty bed and an empty house. Most nights they sheltered wizards and witches that sought refuge and a place to hide in the spare bedrooms of Shell Cottage, she wasn't completely alone on those nights but they couldn't give Fleur the comfort and peace that her husband did by just being there by her side. 

“Eat.” Molly instructed placing a piece of chocolate cake in front of Fleur. “If you haven’t been eating your blood sugar will be low.” 

Fleur followed her mother-in-laws instruction, using the fork to shovelled the sweet brown dessert into her mouth, the icing staining her lips. “Thank you Molly.”

“Why don’t you go upstairs and rest?”

“Thank you but I am fine, I will finish preparing dinner.” 

Fleur tried to stand but Molly pushed her back down. “I can do that.” 

“I am fine, I will rest once Beel ‘as gone off to work.” 

“Is this the first time you’ve felt dizzy?” Molly questioned. 

“I felt a little dizzy zis morning and I vomited but I zeenk eet eez something I ate zat my body did not like, I did not ‘ave an appetite since zen, but zere was no time to eat if I was ‘ungry.” 

Molly looked at Fleur up and down. 

“Are you pregnant?” She questioned. 

“Pregnant? Do not be silly No.” she shook her head with a laugh. 

“I cannot be pregnant. My avoir ses règles...menstruations? ‘ave been regular. Ze last one was lighter zan normal i zeenk eet must be all ze stress. Ze same zing ‘appen during ze triwizard tournament.”

Molly looked at Fleur in unbelief and wandered out of the kitchen leaving Fleur alone while she lifted another piece of cake into her mouth feeling her dizziness easing with the sugar her body was beginning to digest.

“Try this.” Molly returned to the kitchen with a vial of translucent liquid. “If you pee in a cup and then add this potion, about a teaspoon, if it turns pink your pregnant.” She explained handing it over to Fleur. 

“Thank you, but eet eez impossible, we ‘ave been doing everyzing we can not to.” Fleur desired to be a mother, to share a baby with Bill but she had agreed with Bill it was too dangerous with the war raging throughout England. Bill had explained how strongly he felt about bringing a child into the world with fighting and persecution and fear. She too feared that scenario, her baby, her love and joy hurt and killed by the death eaters turned her stomach. 

“Just try it.” Molly replied turning to the fridge. 

Fleur studied the vial briefly, her heart wandering off with her mind imagining creating a family with Bill, a little boy with ginger hair smiling up at her while he was snuggled safely in her arms. Quickly the daydream turned dark, death eaters swirling around her, fighting to take her baby. She forced her way back to reality, to her kitchen, pocketing the vial and moving to help Molly. 

               ...

Fleurs eyes snapped open, her body trembling in fear, her heart pounding, she sat up looking around the room suspicious and paranoid that the death eaters from her dreams had followed her into her home. She pushes herself up off the sofa where she had fallen asleep, her camomile tea sat half drunk on the end table. Fleur hadn’t been sleeping well while Bill was away working nights, it always took her hours to fall asleep and she never stayed asleep very long before she woke up startled by dark nightmares. She rubbed her heavy eyes before checking the time, there was still three whole hours before Bill was expected home. She reached down for her mug, the tea now cold as she carried it back to the kitchen. Fleur dropped the mug into the sink turning, raising her wand “nox.” She whispered, the kitchen collapsing into darkness. She began to climb the stairs when she heard a knock at the door. Fleur froze in place, she slowly turned on the second step and eyed the door, listening for any sound. The knock sounded again. She quietly moved towards the front door, raising her wand. “Who’s there.” She spoke loudly, emitting confidence ans power through her voice.

“It’s me Reg Catermole.”

“What song was playing when you, Mary and ze kids arrived?” Fleur questioned

“Flighty Aphrodite by Celestina Warbeck.” The voice answered from behind the door.”

Fleur sighed in relief as she unlocked the door and pulled it open finding a very tired and filthy Reg who stumbled over the threshold.

“You are ‘ome early. Eez everyzing ok? Where eez Beel?.” She poked her head out the door searching for her husband in the darkness but it was still and empty.

“Bill sent me home, he’s covering my shift. It’s hard work, I work at the ministry I am not use to hard physical labour.” Reg spoke exhaustion lining his voice. “You have a very kind husband.”

“Thank you.” Fleurs eyes shining with pride. “E eez one of the kindest wizards I know.” Fleurs heart swelled with love for Bill, his kindness, his selflessness and willingness to help others was just a few of the reasons she loved him dearly. Her chest ached, missing him even more than usual in that moment, wishing he was there with her.

“Go up and rest you look tired.” Fleur sent him up to bed, before checking the locks and spells protecting the door before she followed up to her own room.

Fleur shifted against the sheets, rousing from a heavy slumber, slowly and reluctantly she opened her eyes finding a brightness behind her eye lids. She rocketed up pulling her wrist up to her eyes squinting at the round face, reading 5:40. Her bounding heart slowed as she realised she hadn’t slept through Bill’s return home. She lifted her head and surveyed the room, the lightbulbs were still glowing, illuminating the bedroom from the night before it had been the light fixtures not the sun that she had first concluded. The book that she had been reading the earlier was still open beside her. She must have fallen asleep reading. She had been wide awake after being woken by a nightmare earlier that morning, she had started reading to keep her mind of the fear that bubbled inside her and in a hope to try send her back to sleep.

Fleur pulled back the covers and swung her feet over the side of the bed, her feet searching for her slippers. A wave of nausea washed over her, her head spinning. Her fingers clutched at the sheets below, wishing away the feeling, but it didn’t improve, it only built. Fleur flung herself up onto her feet, using all of her energy and speed to transport herself to the bathroom, just in time for the little of last nights dinner she had consumed to fly from between her lips and into the toilet bowl. She knelt on the cool tile floor as she heaved over the toilet, her heart racing as she tried to force air into her lungs between each hurl. She came to rest against the bathroom wall, trying to catch her breath once the heaving had subsided. 

She forced herself up knowing Bill would be home soon. She splashed cold water against her face and set her toothbrush to work washing away the foul taste that lingered in her mouth before emerging from the bathroom looking washed out and exhausted. 

Fleur stood at the window overlooking the back garden of Shell Cottage, the sun hadn’t yet peaked above the horizon but the darkness was surrendering and the stars had disappeared. The rising sun sent shimmering rays across the hills behind their house, the sky painted with gold and pink flecks. Her eyes scoured the space beyond the window for movement, her ears listening for the sound of an arrival over the chirping of the birds waking. 

With a crack her eyes bolted to where the sound had come from and found a tall shadow crossing the lawn. 

She flung open the door, stepping out onto the porch, pulling her robe tighter as the crisp cool morning air bit at her exposed skin. “My Sweet Ginger Pie.” She exclaimed, her eyes twinkling with excitement and relief, wasting no time she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him tightly against her body. She could feel a dampness press through her thin pyjamas from Bills wet and mucky work clothes but it held no interest to Fleur, all that was important to her now was having her husband back home and in her arms. 

“Ow was your night?” She questioned stepping back, her arms releasing him from her hug but weaving her fingers around his as she pulled him inside, closing the cool morning air behind them. 

“I will start on breakfast if you want to shower?” She rose up on her tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss against his cheek, sending him upstairs before turning back into the kitchen. 

Fleur was slow in preparing breakfast, pulling items out of the fridge was a battle this morning as she listened to the running water of the shower upstairs. With the pan heating up on the stove top she opened a bag of bacon, reaching in and placing the rashers in the pan, it didn’t take long before the meaty smell wafted into her nose and turned her stomach. Fleur felt her belly lurch, her torso contracted as she gagged, the temporary colour from her face from Bills return now draining. She forced her legs to move towards the sink where her body heaved choking on the last of what was left in her gut. Her fingers blanched white as she clutched the side of the counter. 

When there was nothing left, she lent over to open the window letting the fresh morning air leak into the kitchen and rid the house of the nauseating smell of bacon. She wiped the green bile smeared against her chin with the backside of her hand. I only bought that bacon last week, she thought to herself, covering her mouth and nose with her hand as she turned off the stove with the almost burnt bacon and threw the cooked meat into the rubbish bin along with the bag of raw rashes concluding that it must have gone bad for it to smell that terrible.

Fleur had collected herself enough to throw a few eggs in the pan and toast some bread by the time Bill had returned back down to the kitchen. “Tea?” She questioned from the kitchen table placing her cup of ginger scented tea on the table so she could reach the teapot. 

[lifeofroos]

Part 24. 

In short: Nico gets therapy from Dionysus. In this chapter, they talk about Nico’s feelings towards his contact with Hades. The rest can be found on AO3, FanFiction.net and Tumblr tags like Nico di Angelo, writing, trials of apollo etc.! 

This Might be Crazy: Chapter 24: Mogu Mogu Jelly Tea

‘How do you feel about the time you spend with Hades?’ While he said it, Dionysus pushed a small bottle my way. Mogu Mogu jelly tea, it read on the front. I had never heard of it, but was curious to find out how it tasted.

‘You’ve been talking to Hades!?’ Mary paused putting on mascara to give me a surprised look.

I looked at Dionysus, and then to Mary. ‘To first give an answer to Mary: Yes, I have been talking to Hades. I want to have an actual father-son relationship with him.’ 

‘Oh.’ You could see in her face that she had another question. I stayed quiet, while she put her mascara away. 

She closed her hand mirror and walked over to our table. ‘Hm. Well, as he already asked actually,’ she said while waving in Dionysus’ direction, ‘how do you feel about that?’ She made eye contact with Dionysus for a few seconds.

I thought for a a bit, before turning to Mary. ‘There is gradual improvement. He has been trying and learning.’ I shrugged and looked at Dionysus for a second. ‘But I sort of feel like I have to give counseling to him instead of the other way around. Like, I keep saying that it’llbe okay and that he does not need to feel anxious and that we can work it out. I don’t think that is his fault, because it is all a first time for him, but…’ I shrugged.

Dionysus opened his mouth to say something, but Mary was quicker: ‘You sometimes feel like your parent is the kid and you need to tell them stuff about the world instead of the other way around, even though you should not be responsible for the way he acts and should not constantly have to reassure him.’  I looked at her. 

‘I mean, yes.’ 

Mary sighed and put a hand on her small baby bump.

‘Well, eh… what is your experience with Aphrodite?’ I asked. I was genuinely curious. ‘Maybe it helps to compare?’ I shot Dionysus a glance. He did not seem to fully agree with that, but he allowed us to go on. 

Mary stared at the wall. ‘Well… I met her thrice. The first time was pretty regular. You know, your godly parent comes to you to tell you that you need to make them proud, you know it.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘But the second time, it was because I just had my heart broken by some boy I had been dating for a few years.’ She looked at the table. ‘I was pretty broken up about it, but all she said was that I should just forget it. That this was meant to happen and next time I should just break his heart before he could break mine. She said it as if… as if it was that easy. Just say that you are over it and suddenly you are over it. And then make someone hurt the same way you are next time.’ She stroked her bump. ‘I… I explained to her that that was not how it worked, in a way that might not have been the most graceful way to bring it, if you know what I mean. I think… my mother seemed too stunned to understand what I said. She said ‘alright’ and left.’ Mary stopped moving her hand around. ‘I think she has heard it time and time again, but it just does not get through to her. Oh, and the third time was when she heard I was pregnant. She gave me some baby stuff.’ She shrugged. ‘That was handy, I guess.’

She shot a glance at Dionysus, who was looking at the street outside. 

I opened my bottle of Mogu Mogu and took a sip. ‘For Aphrodite, that might be true. But while I agree with the part where they sometimes seem stunned about something normal, I don’t think Hades has heard the things I am telling him hundreds of times before.’ I shrugged and pushed my bottle around. ‘He does not have many children and he certainly does not have many children that actually came to the Underworld before their death. This experience is new for him. He… while it still bothers me, I think I understand why he acts this way. And he seems open to change at least.’

 I looked at Dionysus, who took a deep breath. For a moment, it was as if everything the gods had ever done flashed before his eyes. ‘Nico, your feelings are totally justified. It is not nice to feel like you are the one to coach your father instead of the other way around. And you don’t have to defend him.’ He sighed ‘And about the gods’ behaviour… all I can say is that the gods have always behaved like that.’ He stared at an undefined point. For a second, I looked at Mary. Silently, we agreed to let him come up with more to say by himself, without pushing him.

We made some small talk about the baby, or I tried to (I really did not know anything about babies, but I did learn how crazy expensive it was), but Dionysus did not join in. He was staring off into space. 

‘The gods do need some things spelled out to them because they don’t get it,’ he muttered after some time. ‘But there are also things we do because it’s just… it’s better. Not… not always for the child, but in the long run. Some gods never interact with their children, because they think it is better if the kid can just come to terms with the fact that their parent will never be there. Others will truly try to raise them, mostly the… smaller gods, so to speak. And we’ve got everything in between. Usually… what the god thinks is best is what will happen.’ He stared at the floor. ‘I did not understand that either when I was a demigod, Hestia had to… sort of explain it to me. And even she had difficulty with it.’ 

I took a sip of sweet tea. ‘It is difficult for all of you too? To let go of your children?’

Mary shrugged. ‘Perhaps, but you also seem to say that most gods will interpret better in the long run as better for their own souls.’

His expression darkened after Mary’s words. ‘Hm.’ He swiftly shook his head around, after which he seemed more present in the moment. ‘Anyway, the important thing is that Hades is now willing to be there for Nico. In a way I would agree that he is acting like a child, but he is willing to change century old behaviour for you. But that also does not excuse him from acting like a child. If you understand what I mean. And you do not have to cater to him. If he goes that way, you say you are tired and you come back to camp.’

‘I… yes.’ It was enough for now. Dionysus nodded sternly.

Mary stared at the table. I did not know whether she did not want to comply with what he was saying or if she begrudgingly accepted it. 

I took a few sips of Mogu Mogu. The bottle was almost empty, as a sign that it almost done for now. Yet, Dionysus had one more thing to say: ‘Nico, do you want to go on with it? Aside from my opinion, or your fathers’ behaviour?’

‘Yes. For now at least, I am sure that I want to go on with it.’ 

‘Good. But make sure that you don’t go over your own boundaries.’ 

I nodded. Then I took the last sips of Mogu Mogu, signaling that therapy was over. 

Before we left, Dionysus asked Mary some things about the baby. Although she had already told me some of it before, she seemed more than happy to say it all again. After that, we waved her goodbye and went home. 

When we came back to camp half-blood, I grabbed Dionysus’ hand. ‘Wait. I… I think you try to take more care of the demigods as well, even though…’ I shrugged.

‘That’s different, Nico. I should be way better than I am now. I was a demigod once, after all. Hades just tries, even though he has known nothing except for godhood.’

I shook my head. ‘I don’t think it is different.’ 

He paused, before saying: ‘Go to your cabin, Nico.’ 

I nodded, before turning around and running off. But I must confess I did not go to the Hades cabin before collecting Will from the Apollo cabin. 

A/N: After I was done writing I figured out that Mogu Mogu is a Dutch concept and it has only been introduced in the Netherlands. But Dionysus is magic y’all he can just magic that stuff and give it to Nico. 

I wanted to show more of Mary, because I have something with her planned in a few chapters, but for that she needed to be more of a character first. 

This chapter seems kinda edgy I don’t know. To be upfront: I am thinking of taking a small posting break to sort out my story, because the last chapters feel weird to me. But knowing myself I probably won’t do it.

Also I am thinking about doing a look-into-dionysus-character-as-of-now bonus chapter in the future.

I must sincerely apologize for how long the chapter about Maria di Angelo is taking. I a, going go look further into it, but for now the planning is: first Apollo will become a god again, then Nico will do more with Hades and meet Persephone, and that will trigger him to talk about his mother. There will be a few interlude chapters, to make the story lighter. I hope that’s okay.

[somethingorotherrr]

BTS Couple Costumes

/Jin /

You scrolled leisurely through all the costumes on the website, waiting for something to catch your eye. Clowns, dinosaurs, grim reaper....bacon? What?

Sighing, you shut the laptop and leaned away from the coffee table and back into the sofa. You watched with a small smile on your face as Jin watched TV, looking so beautifully handsome as he rested his head against his arm in exhaustion. He'd worked very hard.

You'd thought it many times before, but he truly did look so much like a prince. Sometimes it really seemed like he'd just walked straight out of a fairytale.

Then it hit you. Prince Charming!

Quickly, with renewed excitement, you opened your computer again. You could already see it, Jin in a prince costume.

"What's this?" you smiled up at him as he came over to see what you were looking at. Your abrupt movements must have caught his attention.

"Your costume" you replied, suddenly a little unsure. What if he didn't like it?

He sat beside you, kissing your cheek gently. "Are you my Cinderella?"

/Yoongi /

You came into his studio all giggly, hiding your shopping bag behind your back.

Yoongi turned to glare at you suspiciously. "What"

"I got you something" you announced vaguely. He just raised his brows.

"Close your eyes" you demanded with a giant grin, coming to sit on his lap, a knee on either side of his thigh. He protectively rested his hands on the back of your hips so you wouldn't fall and humored you, closing his eyes.

Pleased, you brought the paper bag to rest between you two and dug in. Immediately feeling the fluffy cat ears, you carefully pulled them out one at a time. Before you clipped them in his hair, you took a second to admire his features. He truly was very handsome. Focusing back on the task at hand, you brushed a hand through his hair and clipped the first one in.

Once they were both securely attached to his hair, you leaned back to admire your work. His hands gripped you a tad tighter as he felt your shift in weight, making sure you wouldn't topple back.

A giggle escaped your lips as you held up your phone and snapped a picture. Bringing the picture back up, you held it out for him to see.

"Okay, you can open your eyes"

His eyes fluttered open and he tilted his head back so he could see the picture as you were holding the screen too close to his face. He didn't react as he met your gaze.

"Cat ears?" he deadpanned making you laugh and nod.

"For Halloween?" he guessed and you nodded again.

"I'm going to be your cat?" there was a tone of incredulousness in his voice.

You giggled. "I even got you a collar"

/Hoseok /

"I just got off the phone with Taehyung, he says we need to be Batman and Robin for Halloween, but he won't say why" Hoseok laughed, plopping down next to you, casually throwing an arm over your shoulders.

"Dibs on Batman" you blurted, no hesitation.

"Ah-!" he let out in alarmed surprise.

"You'll make a fabulous Robin" you snickered, patting his cheek.

He rolled his eyes, pulling away to take his phone out of his back pocket.

You smirked and returned to what you were doing.

Not even a minute later, Hoseok shoved his phone in your face.

"I can't be Robin, I'm taller than you," he said as you looked at the photo he'd pulled up on his phone. It was a theoretical edit of Batman and Robin, Robin being glaringly shorter.

"I'll just wear really tall heels"

He grimaced at that. "No.

"Then I guess you'll just have to be a tall Robin" you shrugged, laughing. He didn't reapond.

"....Wanna hear a joke?" you asked after a few moments of him pouting.

He didn't answer, but it wasn't a no so you jumped right in.

"You know why Batman wears all black?"

"Because he wants to blend into the shadows" he replied as if it was obvious.

"Right, he doesn't want to get shot. Now, do you know why Robin wears color?"

Hoseok glared suspiciously at you.

"Because Batman doesn't want to get shot" you laughed, slapping your thigh.

He couldn't help his smile as he shook his head. "Stop hanging out with Jin-Hyung"

You laughed even harder because it was, indeed, a joke you had gotten from Jin.

/Namjoon /

You watched expectantly as Namjoon attempted to carry two massive boxes into his studio. He'd already shooed you away when you had tried to help and so all you could do was watch and wait for the inevitable catastrophe.

As predicted, something went wrong and the bottom of the bottom box ripped open and it's contents came spilling out. You cringed as a pile of books landed on his feet.

Coming to his rescue, you took the remaining box from his hands and set it down. It felt significantly lighter than books, so it was a fairly easy task.

"Are you okay?" You asked, cupping his cheeks. He nodded solemnly.

Smiling, you bent down to help him pick up the books.

Furrowing your brows, you picked up two of the books, examining the rest as well.

"Why do you have so many Harry Potter books?" you giggled.

"Hey, it's a really good series"

Smiling with an idea, you looked at him. "Should we be wizards for Halloween?"

Clearly enjoying the idea, he grinned excitedly. "We could even carve our own wands!"

You pictured Namjoon with a carving knife and immediately shook your head. "No."

/Jimin /

You'd always wanted to be a Greek God for Halloween, but in the past it had always seemed too cheesy. Looking at Jimin run his hands through his hair as he focused on something on his laptop, it suddenly made sense. If there ever were gods, you were sure Jimin was one in a past life.

Feeling your gaze, he glanced up at you and gave you an alluring smirk.

Yes. Definitely a god. Now just to pick one...Aphrodite, maybe? You shook your head. No, he might not like that. What about Zeus? Yes, Zeus fit him well.

"What are you thinking?" he suddenly asked.

"Just trying to figure out which Greek God you look like"

He laughed, "Aphrodite, of course"

/Taehyung /

"Oh, I know! Vampires!" He cheered abruptly, making you jump.

"I'm sorry, what?" As usual, he was on a completely different page than the rest of the world.

"For Halloween!" he nodded enthusiastically.

You stared at him for a moment, imagining him as a Vampire. He would undoubtedly stay in character the whole night, keeping up an alluring 'Black Swan" vibe. Almost instantly, you wanted to agree...until you pictured yourself beside him, that is. There was no way your generally uncoordinated ass would allow you to keep up with his sensuality.

"....How about the Joker and Harley?" you suggested shyly instead.

Tae's eyes trailed you up and down, imagining you in a Harley Quinn costume. Smirking, he nodded. "Okay."

/Jungkook /

You and Jungkook walked into the Halloween party in your matching 007 costumes. He wore a sleek black suit and you wore a wine red, satin dress. He was James Bond and you were the woman he would inevitably save.

"You look very handsome" You whispered into his ear.

It was true, Jungkook embodied the James Bond persona. Usually, when he was surrounded by friends he was goofy and hyper, but not tonight. No, tonight he was cool and graceful — borderline mysterious.

This was a bad idea. You thought as you noticed all the women appreciatively eyeing him up and down.

Possesively, you gripped his bicep and leaned into his side.

He smirked knowingly down at you.

"And you look absolutely stunning"

[skepticalcatfrog]

Stay Ahead and Stay Alive Chapter 2

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Summary: When Bill Denbrough starts his third summer at Camp Half Blood, everything seems perfect. He's finally getting used to his cabin, he gets to see his friends again, and he's even getting the hang of fighting with a sword. But that perfection is quickly turned on its head when his little brother goes missing. Bill is determined to do whatever it takes to find him, even if that means he and his friends need to go to the Underworld.

Pairings: (Eventual) Reddie, Stenbrough, and Benverly

Word count: 3,208

Author's Notes: It took me longer than I thought to finish this chapter, but that's mostly just because of writer's block. Anyway, now it's done!

POV: Stanley Uris

~Earlier~

"Alright, well, just find me if you need anything. If we don't get a chance to talk then I'll see you tomorrow." I waved to Bill as I walked away, heading back to my cabin. I didn't want to go to orientation, but I knew I had to. I would've much rather spent the rest of the day with Bill. Oh, and Richie and Eddie. Of course.

I had to take a deep breath before entering cabin 6. It could be a little intense in there, especially when you were trying to get everyone on the same page. I opened the door and walked inside, clapping my hands once loudly to get everyone's attention. I raised my voice just a little bit.

"Okay everybody, listen up! Firstly, to everyone who only comes here during the summer, welcome back to the Athena cabin." That earned a quiet round of applause from a couple of campers. "And secondly, today is orientation! We'll probably be getting a couple of new campers, so be prepared for that. They'll probably be nervous about being here, and we all know how that feels, don't we? Just help them out a little bit. We wouldn't want anyone to start hating us on the first day, would we?" A couple of people laughed, but I was never really the funny one in the group. My jokes always seemed to land better with my friends than my siblings. "Anyway, that's the end of my speech. I have to go meet everyone at orientation, so I'll be back in a bit."

Then I turned and left. I knew that the entire conversation had gone quickly, but I was sure that all of my siblings were used to it at that point. I was probably one of the busiest counselors in camp, always doing something, constantly popping in and out of the cabin. It honestly got kind of hectic sometimes. That's why I enjoyed time when I could just relax with my friends.

A small crowd had already gathered at the amphitheatre by the time I got there. I sat near the back with a couple of other counselors. We just waited there while the camp director spoke. Once that was over, each counselor was assigned a group of campers to tour the camp with. I'd dealt with new campers before, so everything went pretty smoothly for me. They had a few questions, but otherwise they seemed to understand how I was explaining everything.

The really difficult part was dinner. Athena kids are the only half bloods who are claimed at birth, so we had a lot of new campers at our table. It was much louder than usual, and it felt like I had to remind someone of the rules every five seconds. Usually it was someone trying to go to another cabin's table. I was relieved when we finally cleared out of the mess hall.

Everything calmed down again at the campfire. All of us were tired, so no one had the energy to cause any trouble. The new campers appeared to be having fun, which was a good sign. A few of them were mesmerized by the fire, and how it would change based on the emotions of the people surrounding it. Eventually the moon was fully risen, and the stars were out. That meant it was time to go back to our cabins. 

My siblings helped the newcomers get into the routine of things. Soon enough, everyone was fast asleep, including me. Everything was peaceful, which was refreshing after the busy day I'd had. Unfortunately, that serenity didn't last long. I was woken up by someone shaking me.

"Stanley?" I heard someone whisper from near me. I opened my eyes to see one of my siblings standing next to my bed. She was significantly younger than me, maybe around seven years old.

"Yeah?" I said something so she knew I was awake, but I closed my eyes again.

"I can't sleep." She said simply.

"Have you tried imagining something calming?" I asked, glancing at her.

"No." She shook her head.

"Have you tried anything?" I closed my eyes again.

"No…" She admitted.

"Then how about you get back to bed. Maybe you'll be able to fall asleep in a little while." I resolved. Then I heard her climbing back into her bed.

A few minutes later, she woke me up again. We went through the same conversation, and it ended with her going back to bed again. That cycle repeated four more times. When I felt someone shaking my shoulder for the seventh time, I'd reached the end of my rope.

"I know, you can't sleep, but that doesn't mean you have to-" I opened my eyes, but she wasn't there. Instead, I was met by familiar blue eyes. I was startled out of my tired state. It was Bill, frantically trying to wake me up. He was completely dressed, his hair was wet, and the front of his jacket was splattered with mud. "Bill? Why are you here, you're supposed to be asleep. And why are you covered in mud?"

"I'll explain l-later, right now I just n-n-need your help." He told me uneasily, wiping tears from his face.

"What's wrong, what happened?" I sat up, now completely awake. If Bill had taken the risk of coming to another cabin at night, something big must've happened.

"I-I-It's Georgie, he's m-m-m-m-m-" He struggled with his stutter.

"It's okay, just breathe." I sat up and reached for his hand, but hesitated. He was clearly very emotional, any sort of contact might just make it worse. My hand dropped back to my side. "Everything's going to be okay. Now, do you think you can tell me what happened?"

"Georgie… is m-missing. We w-were out in the w-w-woods, and I l-l-left him alone, and now..." He burst into tears, burying his face in his hands. "Shit, I left him a-a-alone!"

My eyes widened. "Are you sure? Are you sure it wasn't just a bad dream?"

"Y-y-yes, of course I'm sure!" He looked up at me, his eyes catching mine. He spoke as if he'd never been more positive about anything in his life. "And I n-need you to help me f-find him."

"But why me?" I asked.

"I d-don't know, I thought you'd know w-w-what to do!" Bill dried his eyes on his sleeves, regaining control of his emotions.

"Well I'm not going to have a perfectly planned solution right away after being woken up in the middle of the night." I sighed. I was tired, and I didn't feel up to dealing with a serious situation. But I had to do something, I couldn't just tell him to get over it, he'd be crushed. I just needed time to figure things out. "Go back to your cabin and try to get some rest, we'll figure something out tomorrow morning. I promise."

"O-okay…" He stood up and went to the door. I attempted to go back to sleep. I heard the sound of the door opening and closing, signifying that Bill had left the room.

It took a while for me to fall asleep again, but I don't know exactly how long it was. I just had too many thoughts in my head. First I wake up in the middle of the night to see one of my best friends standing over me, then he tells me his brother is missing, and he needs my help to find him. It was a lot to process. At first I thought it might've been a dream, but then it started to feel a little too real. I tried to think of a plan until eventually I just couldn't keep my eyes open.

I was woken up abruptly the next morning by sunlight shining through the windows and the seemingly ever-present sound of projects in the process of being completed. I only had time to change into regular clothes before I heard a persistent knocking at the door. I was lucky that I got to the door first, because standing on the other side was Bill, still wearing the clothes he'd been in the previous night. That plus the faint dark circles under his eyes made it clear that he hadn't slept at all the previous night.

"We n-need to find R-R-Richie and Eddie." Bill got right to the point the second I opened the door. "The more p-people we have to help us, the b-be-better."

He started to walk away, gesturing for me to follow him. We went to find Eddie first, mostly because his cabin was the closest to mine. Bill stopped in front of the door of cabin 7 and knocked on it. I stood next to him, and we waited there for a good couple of minutes. It wasn't like no one was awake, Apollo kids tended to rise early; It was just that no one answered the door. Finally though, someone did. It was one of Eddie's half siblings.

She opened the door with a smile on her face. "Hi, can I help you guys with anything?"

"I-Is Eddie here?" Bill asked.

"Sorry, he's not." She shook her head. "He woke up a few hours ago with the rest of us, but he usually goes to the infirmary earlier. He says he has to be ready for whoever might come in."

"Okay, thanks. We should've known he'd be there. Sorry to bother you, see you around." I waved to her, and she waved back before closing the door. I glanced at Bill. "So, to the infirmary?"

"Yeah." He nodded, and we were on our way again.

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye as we walked. I didn't need to look at him to remember what he looked like, but sometimes I did it anyway. You would be able to tell that Bill was a son of Aphrodite just by seeing his face. His hair was brown, like the feathers of a song sparrow, but the sun made it look a little lighter. His icy blue eyes were striking, and could be intimidating at times. Especially times like just then, when they were filled with determination. Normally, though, they were much more welcoming. More like going to an ice skating rink with your friends and less like falling through a thin sheet of ice into freezing water. I snapped out of my train of thought and quickly looked away, worried about being caught staring. Soon after that, we approached the entrance to the infirmary.

We opened the door and stepped inside. Just as we'd been told, Eddie was pacing back and forth in the middle of the room. None of the lights were on yet, but the blinds were open on the windows, letting in the natural light. The infirmary was entirely clean and orderly. It looked like just the place you'd expect someone like Eddie to be. Clean tile floors, pristine white walls, various types of medicine organised on shelves. The beds on either side of the room were perfectly made, and looked as if no one had been in them for a while. However, the more likely option was that Eddie made all the beds the moment he got there.

Eddie looked up at us as soon as we walked in, but it was clear that he hadn't expected it to be us. What made it obvious was that he didn't immediately start talking. He looked relieved when he saw me and Bill, but also vaguely… disappointed. "Oh… hey, guys. What are you doing here? Is one of you hurt?"

"N-no, we're both fine." Bill closed the door behind us. "B-b-but we need your help with s-something."

"Yeah, it's more about who isn't fine." I glanced around the room nervously.

"Oh my- is it Richie again?" Eddie gritted his teeth. "Because I swear, if he's escalated to the point of sending you guys to get me, I will actually punch him right in the face. I don't care how bad the scrape on his knee might be, I'll do it."

"No!" I said quickly. "You don't need to do any of that. Seriously."

"Okay, if it's not Richie, then who is it?" Eddie finally stopped his pacing.

"Georgie." Bill said simply. Then he went on to explain. "He went m-missing in the woods last night, and I d-don't know where he is, b-b-but I need to find him. That's w-why we're here, we wanted to a-ask for your help."

"The North woods?" Eddie asked. "That's inside the boundaries, if he got lost there then he's definitely still in there somewhere. Maybe the satyrs found him."

"No, i-i-it wasn't the North w-woods." Bill shook his head. "It was outside the b-borders. I think s-something might've t-t-taken him."

"Wait, it wasn't the North woods?" I looked at the ground in thought, crossing my arms. "Then this is worse than I thought. Chances are, if something did take him, he's probably not in the woods anymore."

Bill shot that down right away. "He has to b-be, we'll be a-able to find him. We j-j-just have to look."

"That might be true, but the woods isn't the place to be looking." I sighed, tapping my foot on the floor. I finally looked up, glancing between Eddie and Bill. "Demigods who get taken by monsters… well, they don't usually come back. So as much as I hate to say it, I think the next best place to look would be the Underworld."

The room fell into an awkward silence. Bill stared at me like I'd just hit him with a rock, and that look alone made me regret what I'd said. He was about to say something, but then the door opened. We all looked in the direction of the sound. There, strolling into the infirmary with a bleeding knee and an elbow to match, was Richie Tozier.

"Hey Eds, I fell off of the climbing wall again and I need you to-" Richie seemed to become aware of the serious tone of the room. "What happened in here?"

We explained everything to him, from Georgie's disappearance to our plan to go to the Underworld. I even learned a couple of new things, like how Bill had found a bloodstained puddle of water in the place where he'd left Georgie. The whole time we were talking, Eddie was bandaging Richie's cuts.

"But the Underworld is all the way across the country." Richie raised an eyebrow. "How are we supposed to get there?"

"We could walk. Take a couple of buses, maybe." I suggested.

"We don't have enough money for buses. And if we walk all the way to Los Angeles, we might be dead by the time we get there anyway, which would make the part where we come back here much harder." Eddie pointed out.

"Eddie's right." Bill agreed. "W-we'll have to f-f-find another way."

"Transportation can wait, for now we just need to figure out the immediate details. Eddie, do you have anything I can write with? And maybe some paper?" I asked. Eddie went to look through the shelves and came back a minute later with a pen and a notepad. I started to make a list. "The classic things demigods need for quests. Weapons, extra clothes, personal hygiene products, and a satyr guide. That shouldn't be too hard."

"I-If we start n-now, we might b-b-be able to get it all done t-to-today." Bill read over the list.

"I have responsibilities, Bill." I handed him the notepad. "I know that this is important, but I can't just drop everything to do it. I'll try to help as much as I can, of course, but I might not always be available."

"Yeah, I'm usually pretty occupied all day too." Eddie nodded.

"I, on the other hand, am literally never busy. I'm available all day, so I'll help." Richie offered.

"So it's settled. We'll prepare today, and leave either tomorrow or the next day depending on when everything's ready." I said. Everyone agreed.

We all said our temporary goodbyes, and went our separate ways. I don't know what everyone else did, but I went back to my cabin. Not many people were there anymore. I used the unusual quiet to get some work done. It was mostly just cleaning, because there was going to be a cabin inspection in a few days, and I needed to prepare. I wandered around the cabin, tidying things up as I saw fit. 

Eventually the cabin was entirely spotless, and I had nothing to do anymore. I got my binoculars and bird watching book from my nightstand. I went to the Big House and sat on the porch, pointing my binoculars towards the sky. There weren't any new birds up there, just the same ones as usual. Sometimes I wished I could see something different. I stayed at camp all the time, so I'd seen all of the birds around here. Sure, I loved bird watching, but it got a little boring sometimes. Not to mention lonely, because I was the only person in the entire camp who did it. Maybe I could bring my book with me when we leave for our quest, I thought to myself. I knew that traveling across the country would bring me some different results. I put my binoculars down, and was shocked to see the scene in front of me. A large crowd of campers had gathered around something by the border of camp. I picked up my book and hung the binoculars around my neck, walking down the porch stairs to see what the commotion was about.

I pushed my way through the crowd. Most people moved for me, since I was a counselor. They assumed I knew what I was doing. At the center of the group was a boy who looked about my age. And he didn't seem to be doing too well based on the fact that he was terribly beat up. He was covered in cuts and bruises, with the worst one being a gash on his stomach. His clothes were stained with blood. I got a little closer to him and pushed everyone else away.

"There's nothing to see here, all of you can go back to what you were doing before!" I shouted to the horde of campers. A few of them left, but most of them just took a few steps back. Knowing I wouldn't be able to do much better than that, I turned back to the boy and lowered my voice a little. "Hey, everything's going to be alright. We're going to go to the infirmary, and they'll fix you up there, okay? What's your name?"

"Ben Hanscom." The boy told me.

"Okay Ben, let's go." I let him lean on me as we made our way to the infirmary. I knocked on the door once we got there. Just as I'd hoped, Eddie answered the door. His eyes widened when he saw me and Ben. His eyes asked a silent question, which his mouth then said out loud.

"What happened?"

"Nothing good, that's for sure." I answered. "Think you can help us?"

He nodded wordlessly and moved aside to let us in.

[cybrfang]

Floral (Lost Boys 1987 Fanfiction)

Fear. Romance. Love. Lust. All different things a person can feel at one-time. They could cloud the mind if you let them. 

It was a calm night. A suspenseful kind of quiet. Protective dogs had all gone to sleep, lovers were spent, old timers were dozing in front of their box TV's, everyone was ready for a new day. A light fog lifted from the ground, settling at around ankle level. Making anyone who walked in it feel like an angel drifting on clouds. Even if they've done things that others might see as a sin.

Star walked down the dark street, music bouncing around her skull, even without any music playing at all. The feeling of the plastic bags cutting into her fingers. She knew nothing was really getting cut, but it was the best way to see it. Star was lost in her mind, trying to relive today. She wasn't ready to let go so easily.

She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered, but not from being cold. She wanted to remember. If she thought hard enough then maybe she could still feel Her body. If she pressed in the right places, then she could pretend they were someone else's hands on her.

She felt a smile creeping onto her face as she visited the memories in her head. The two of them laughing together, laying on the ground, both of their hands barely touching as she pointed out cloud shapes. 

Holding one another when the sun was setting. 

Being kissed when the sun was down.

Star let her fingers brush against her own lips, the tingling feeling coming back. It made her feel like yelling out loud. She wanted to throw the bags she was holding and just dance, twirl, and scream to the heavens. She wanted to live in this blissful state forever if she could. She felt whole.

She felt like... Aphrodite herself came down from the heavens just to lay on top of her. It was just so… perfect. The wind was gentle, the houses were hopefully far away from prying eyes, but still close enough to supply the sound of wind chimes playing here and there. Star felt a bit scared of being so close to people, but she was promised that nothing would happen. She had never seen anyone walking in this field before. The butterflies flying around them, making Star fear they would get caught in her hair, being swayed by the floral scent she gained from being close to the rest of the flowers. 

And the Rose in her arms.

But she didn't have to worry about that for too long when she felt her hair get tucked behind her ear. The gentle caress on her cheeks, and slightly chapped lips on her collarbone. It was all perfect. The way the girl giggled when Star's fingers traveled along Rose's hip, trying to remember the way her soft skin felt. 

Star sighed at the recent memory, opening the side door to her house. She managed to pull the creaky door open fast enough so no noise was heard. She tip-toed to the kitchen, pulling a few flowers from her bag and placing it in the vase by the sink. Opening the fridge, she pulled the golden cans of Coors light out next and put them in the back, hoping her father would see them later, but still not accuse her of forgetting. 

Being away from home all day, doing… well things, made her dread being in this place even more. She never spent the day smiling and laughing here, like she did in the field. Like she did in Rose's arms. 

Star closed her eyes, trying to bring back the feeling of the goosebumps from the fingers dancing on Star's right leg. She tried to recall the way the whispers tickled Star's ears and ne-

"Jane! Close the fucking fridge!"

Star's eyes snapped open. She had been daydreaming in front of an open fridge and her mother had caught her looking like a fool. She quickly closed the door and turned around, facing her mother with a red face. She faltered at the image before her. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't even realize what I was doing." 

She gripped her fingers and wrung them together, knowing what was coming next.

Her mother walked closer to her, her back stiff as a board with hair curlers in. 

"What have I told you? Do you know what would have happened if your father caught you like that? Do you not listen?"

Star felt a phantom pain shoot through her back. Nodding, she bit her bottom lip, hoping that she would be excused to go to her room. 

"Mommy I didn't mean to, I just was thinkin-"

She snapped her jaw shut when her mother reached out and yanked a handful of her hair, pulling her down to her level. 

"What did you do to your hair? You think a man finds this mess attractive!?"

Boys.

She couldn't help her hair being this way, but she was going to make damn sure her hair was even more of a curl 'nightmare' when she was given the chance. 

She waited for her mother to let her go, avoiding her eyes the best she could. Star didn't want to lose this, she hates losing. She started with looking at the wall, trying not to not make it seem like she was giving up, her back bent at such an angle that she was in even more pain then looked. Her mother yanked harder, drawing a stiff yell from Star and almost forcing her to legs to collapse. She suddenly felt fingers close to her collarbone, confusing her. They disappeared after a moment. She realized the best way to escape faster was to play her part. To play dead. She looked down at the ground, feigning defeat. After a moment her mother finally let her go, pushing her away. 

It always happened like this. She didn't want to give in, and show that she still had a fighting spark. But showing that she was still strong, never helped her situation. She needed to be helpless to be left alone. Star stepped around her mother and out of the kitchen.

"I'm not done with you!"

Star didn't stop, hearing the click of a lighter and a mumble of "fucking prom" as she closed the door to her room.

That's what Star was in her parents eyes. A prom mishap. A drunken mistake. Her mother had planned on aborting her, but when Star's late grandparents found out, they forced her to have the baby. (Star's never even met her grandparents on her father's side. They probably want nothing to do with her.) Star's grandpa made her parents have a shotgun wedding. That was also Star's fault, it seemed. They resented her for it. Refusing to divorce due to her parents' religion. 

After being together for so long, the one thing her parents have always agreed on is that, if they have a daughter, their daughter will be who they want. Not who Star wants. So to her parents, she is Jane. But to her… she's Star. 

Star is excitable, Star is open or as open as she can be- Star is… well Star is a lesbian.

She would never come out to her parents. Gosh the last time she had mentioned how pretty a girl was, was when she was 11. In response her father pushed her head under the water she was cleaning dishes in. Star remembered screaming when her head was under water, and her elbow connecting with her father's chest. He loosened his grip on her and she slammed her heel back into his crotch. When he let her go she ran out of the house, and spent the night at a friend's. Her first crush… she remembered that night for two different reasons. 

Star let out a huff of frustration, opening her window to let in the breeze like an old friend. Pulling the screen up to let a few fireflies in her room as well. She finally laid back on her bed, feeling warm in her nightgown. Today was an amazing day, mom or no mom. She couldn't wait for tomorrow. For the sweet kisses Rose would give Star. The whispered promise to run away. 

Running away.

Images of running filled Star's mind as she drifted to sleep. Her beige walls seeming to close in on her, like a locked box. The cross next to her mirror peeking out under the pictures of Rose and Star together, seeming to know what she was wishing. The breeze blowing the papers from her school year, letting them dance on her desk while Star left the world. 

Star woke to the hushed sound of her parents arguing at 12 in the afternoon. She felt slightly grateful -just a tad bit worried as well- that they let her sleep in for once in her life. It wasn't something they ever did, but she was too happy to care. She let out a yawn and stretched, a smile creeping up on her face when she thought of today. It was Saturday. Star had one full day to be happy before her parents would drag her to church.

She jumped out of her bed and threw on something flowy, twirling around and watching herself in the mirror. She was prepared to hear her parents say she looked like a floozy. But the way Star felt this morning, she just didn't care. She contemplated calling Rose… but she was sure her parents would see that she was on the line and listen in. Star was just going to surprise her instead. 

The moment Star opened her door, the arguing stopped. She walked to the kitchen, giving both of her parents a shy smile. Her father already had a Coors light on the table, finding them earlier than last time. 

"Uh, thank you for letting me sleep in." 

Her mother nodded, looking back and forth between her and her father. The silence in the room felt heavy, almost like if Star spoke, all hell would break loose. So instead she opened the fridge door and went to pull out some food, trying to calm her stomach. 

"Jane… could you settle something for your father and I?"

Star turned around, forgetting the food all together. They must really be having a row if they needed her help. She nodded and sat down at the table, looking at her mother, waiting to hear the rest.

"See, your father thinks you were home yesterday, by yourself. But, I swear I saw you leave with one of you friends yesterday afternoon. Which is it?" 

Star raised an eyebrow, and almost laughed.

"This is what you both were fighting about?" She leaned back in her seat, smiling a bit. 

Her father slammed his hand on the table, causing both Star and her mother to jump. Her mother gripped the front of her shirt and shot her daughter a look. 

Star sat up straight and wrung her hands together. "Well… you're sort of right mom. I did leave, but I left by myself." 

Her father went to open his mouth but Star kept talking. 

"I did meet up with a friend though. So again, you're technically right." 

Her father leaned forward, nodding his head like he was agreeing on an opinion. 

"Oh? Well silly me, I guess. Can't blame an old man." He chuckled a little, sending a feeling akin to spiders crawling up Star's spine. 

Her mother choose then to chime in after letting out a forced laugh, "So who was it then?" 

"I'm… sorry?"

Her father reached out and snatched Star's wrist, pulling her so her front slammed on the table edge. Star looked up at him with wide eyes, filled with fear and confusion. He simply patted her wrist and gave her a smile. 

"Just answer your mother Janey. It's rude to ignore her."

Janey. 

Janey was the name they used when she messed up. When she was going to be forced to do their weird little punishment game. Her eyes involuntarily looked over at the small red dot on the wall going into the living room. 

She hated that thing. Hated that they've done this all her life. She would be forced to stand on her tiptoes and place her index finger on the dot. She wasn't supposed to move or stop touching the dot. If she did, she would get a blow to her back. 

She shuddered and looked at her mother, finally answering her. 

"I was with Rose."

It seemed like the moment the answer came out of her mouth, time slowed down for a few minutes. Then it finally caught back up with her as her back slammed against the side of the fridge, and her ass hit the ground. 

She stared up at her father the way a rodent looked up at a snake before it got eaten. He shoved the table aside and grabbed at Star's shirt, pulling her up and exposing her collarbone.

"WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU TWO DOING THAT GOT YOU THIS SHIT?!" 

Star looked down and saw the hickies on her. The same place she felt her mother's fingers brush against last night. She felt her stomach drop out from under her, making her go numb. No...no no no Star didn't want to be here anymore. She wanted to escape.

Her father didn't wait for her answer and struck her right ear, making it ring, and the room spin. He shook her quickly and shoved her back against the fridge again. She wanted to drop to the ground, but she knew the moment she got down there he would start kicking her. He reached forward and grabbed the curls on the back of Star's head. He looked over at Star's mom.

"Plug the sink and turn on the water." 

That set Star off. She started thrashing around as her mother did as she was told. 

"Oh you remember this do you? But not the fucking lesson apparently!"

She started hitting her father in the chest, screaming at the top of her lungs so someone would hear her and call the cops. They never did, but she wouldn't stop trying. Help would always be there… right? Star dug her nails in her father's face and gripped him tightly, yanking down and drawing blood. His skin seemed to gather under her nails, making bile ride in her throat. She felt like she was going to vomit at the smell of it. The rusty, salty smell. It sickened her. 

As her mother went to her screaming father, Star dashed to her room and grabbed a bag that was already stuffed with clothes and cash. She heard footsteps coming closer to her, so she ran over and closed her door. She dragged her bookcase over to block it. There really wasn't much in it but... Even if it fell, it would still keep her parents out. She ran back to her window, but took a quick peak around her room. She wondered if she should write Rose a note and leave it in her mailbox. The banging on Star's door forced her to act fast, scribbling a hasty goodbye. It was better if no one knew where she would be going. 

A tear dropped on the paper, alerting her to the fact that she was crying. She wondered if it would be cold where she was heading. Star viciously wiped at her face and grabbed a jacket, throwing it in the bag and opening her window. She punched out the screen and climbed over it, running away as soon as her father pried her window open. 

"JANE. JANE GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!"

She didn't know if he was following her, but she didn't want to look back just in case. 

Star kept running. Running from her parents. From her home. From Rose. From Janey. Jane. She gripped the ticket in her hand, never slowing to a jog as she neared the bus stop. 

A smile graced her face when she saw the bus heading towards her, so she snuck a look back. Feeling even more relieved that no one was following her. She took the letter she wrote and wedged it on the bus sign, hoping it would be found quickly. 

The bus made a creaking sound as it stopped, the doors opening slowly for her. 

She took a deep breath as she walked up the steps and handed the bus driver her ticket.

Star looked out the window as she sat in the back, watching her home move past her.

"Santa Carla… here I come." Star closed her eyes, letting the rumble of the bus calm her for the long ride to come. 

[farmcorelynch]

i accidentally wrote a draft for a pynch on a motorcycle across nevada fic but im too lazy to edit it and post on ao3

A/N: based on a really long convo i had with @egosumsomnium , nothing explicit happens but like,, adam has no chill so,,, (might fuck around and make it a proper fic, who knows? i am unknowable yeehaw)

The desert rain is worse than the rain back home, a miracle of impossibility falling from the humid sky and kissing an equally impossible boy. Adam Parrish leaned his damp back against the highway pillar, head tilted limply on his shoulder as he heaved his breath back into his lungs mixed with the pollution of Nevada.

A curtain of the night’s sorrow blankets him, his curls plastered wet on his forehead as he squinted at the barren wasteland of drenched sand and open lightning bolts. There was no one alive tonight but soon he would be one of the two souls in all of americana breathing fresh air, finally awoken from a hazy slumber that was his routined existence.

He fidgeted nervously, restless to satisfy a shameful famine slowly cultivating inside of him the moment Ronan asked him to ride to Nevada with him. Everything about the wait ate him inside out, especially since his desire was so close to being a tangible thing, real and solid for him to hold. He’s been starving for so long.

The world was asleep, the city was awake, and Adam was ready to throw out his sensibility down the cliff’s edge.

The loud rev of a motorcycle engine rips through the sound of heavy traffic above him and Adam rolls his eyes as the black smudge against the night horizon gets closer. A man in a leather jacket and a helmet circling him like a snake going in for the pray, the loud sound of his accelerator piercing Adam’s single functioning ear, making him dizzy and choking him with the smoke clouds that formed from the rubber tires.

“Hey stranger”

“Cycling in the rain is a safety hazard, Lynch”

Ronan rolled his eyes before giving him a smirk as Adam climbed onto the seat behind him, arms quickly tightening around Ronan’s waist and cheek making it’s home on Ronan’s wet back. He passed Adam his designated helmet, the one they both bought together a few weeks ago, before starting up the bike again.

Adam melts into him.

Adam sighed, resting his head in the crevice between Ronan’s shoulder blades, upset that the helmet, the leather jacket and the pouring rain made it harder for him to hear Ronan’s heartbeat as they sped past the welcoming sign to Nevada.

★

They were both countryside boys, the city a foreign land that neither was particularly fond of. It didn’t matter if Adam hated the pollution that attacked his lungs here or if the sounds of human vices were almost overbearing. Passing the bright city lights, Adam fell in love with neon streets and the empty promises of unthinkable wealth flushed against the stormy night sky.

It didn’t matter if heaven was punishing them for their futile devices of emptying their pocket linings in the form of a northern downpour, not when Adam could absorb the heat radiating off of Ronan like a campfire so shamelessly.

The moment they crossed the border together and completely intertwined, they were no longer simple country boys. Although there was still the dirt of Henrietta underneath his fingernails, there was nothing but the image of Virginia in Adam’s soul, the freckles splattered across his nose bridge the only evidence he spawned from hell itself in the shape of a double-wide.

In the city of sin and other mortal temptations, they were nothing but faceless strangers and a pair of burning bodies. Adam could almost imagine they were in love.

★

He was stranded in sin city with the devil, taunting him and his patience with that devious smile laced with poison and ivory. Shark-like, Adam had never seen Ronan like this, dripping with vices and malice. He’s heard the rumours, of course, the first thing Gansey tells him when the other boy introduced the two of them one particularly awful winter evening was that Ronan was dangerous. The red neon lights flash wherever Ronan Lynch went in warning, Adam still chose to prick his hands with thorns and barb wires.

He was a boy made of yellow caution tape and when he smiled at Adam, only one corner of his sharp lips quirking up, Adam could almost imagine the sound of blue and red sirens flashing through his wreckage.

Adam was an apocalyptic wasteland and it was all Ronan Lynch’s fault.

He’s never seen it for himself though, the way Ronan easily parted the crowd like an edifice, a god demanding attention and fear. Adam swallowed dryly as his tattoo seemed to expand with every confident step he took to the bar counter, scrambling quickly to his side.

By the time Adam slides into the empty vinyl seat next to Ronan, Ronan was already drinking a clear glass of liquid gold, gulping poison like it didn’t sting. Adam knew from experience the drink burnt, the frat parties Gansey dragged him to a rollercoaster he chose not to remember, but Ronan swallowed it down like mountain dew. A part of him was irritated his driver was getting tipsy, a much less sensible part of him couldn’t tear his gaze from the imprint Ronan’s lips left on the crystal glass.

“What are we doing here?” Adam sighed, pressing his cheek against the cool surface of the bar counter, ignoring the stickiness on his skin and digging his fingertips into Ronan’s jean-clad thigh.

Ronan gave him a look that made Adam preen, a ghost of impatience chipping at its prison of Adam’s ribcage, ready to break free with every minute Ronan tortured him without his touch.

★

They were heading straight to paradise lost, a private heaven that they artificially created with their own two hands. There’s an invisible rosary made from rose quarts slowly counting down the seconds they had left together, trapping them by the hips and pulling them closer. The beads clashed against each other and echoed as Adam slid his cold hands under the hem of Ronan’s shirt as they conquered miles of asphalt to the nearest closed doors.

Ronan jumped off the bike with a fluid ease that made Adam preen with mindless jealousy, the grind of his hips down on the leather seat leaving him brainless. Ronan watched him intently from the door of their motel room, snake lips wrapped around the bitter tip of a cigarette and sharp cheekbones highlighted by flickering neon lights as old as their combined ages. He looked like Judas then, taunting and ready to destroy Adam to a pulp, with his entire frame bathed in scarlet light. Adam walked towards him without lowering his gaze, accepting retribution wordlessly.

The motel room was expectantly disgusting, unsanitary with the strange musky smell designated to old closets unopened for generations. It looked like a scene to a murder noir with it’s stained blue carpeted floors from the early 80s, the bathtub stained dark with an identifiable liquid and stark wide against the dirty white tiles. It was the perfect place for sacrifice, Adam’s desecration ritual to take place in the centre of the hellhole on a bare queen-sized bed, decorated garishly with cheap dollar store rose petals.

His nose scrunched up in distaste but didn’t mutter a single complaint, too distracted by worse things.

“Charming,” Ronan grunted with disdain from behind him around his burning cigarette, arms crossed across his solid chest. He flicked a rose petal off the bed, eyes burning holes into Adam. Adam scooped a palmful off roses into his hand before pressing his palm against Ronan’s cheek, watching as the red plastic rained from the gaps of their skin. He looked like Aphrodite’s and Ares’ child then, a spawn of love and war, helplessly cruel with the way he loved Adam. The sweet rose petals made him look beautiful in the most violent way brushing over his soldier’s buzzcut. Adam was ruined for anyone else.

Ronan blows smoke into his orbit and Adam catches his bitter lips in between his teeth.

Adam takes Ronan’s wrists between his fingers as they walked towards the bed, mouths still gaping against each other languidly. Ronan shuffled his feet backwards, free hand putting out his cigarette in the ashtray on the bedside table. The inferno underneath Adam’s skin was hot enough without it, a lighter that chased Ronan’s gasoline mindlessly.

There’s a hand cupping his jaw, Ronan’s fingertips brushing against Adam’s curls too tenderly for what they were doing. Adam opened his mouth willingly, snaking a hand down between their burning bodies just to feel more. He was wide awake.

The desert nights were cold, colder than any night in Henrietta, despite the scorching heat in the evening time. In tonight’s twilight, Adam won’t be shivering alone.

Ronan spreads his fingers wide and grips onto Adam’s hips, a vice as their hot breath mingled between them. Heaving chests pressed together, Adam sighed as he pulled Ronan closer by the belt loops.

He was a desert flower, his eyes snake-like and belonging with the hot sand, blue and piercing. Summer was in the air and heaven Ronan’s arms, securing and hazardous. Adam had found religion in the crevices of his mouth, tongues sliding and moving against a riptide.

Adam was sinking his fingers into soft cemetery moss, his teeth nipping at pale skin and blooming violets and lilacs all the way down the hollow column of Ronan’s stretched throat. Adam sunk into Ronan’s artery, feeling the life that sustained him on his tongue and swallowing his heartbeat, poisoning Ronan’s ichor with his own breed of venom. His chin brushes against a cold chain around Ronan’s neck, Adam pushes away the delicate gold cross to sanctify Ronan in his own way, a silent plead for worship.

And Adam saw Ronan bathing on the roof, pale moonlight drowning his already translucent skin. A fall of kings, Adam had repeated history and succumbed into temptation. Inviting shadows to possess him. Ronan danced on his grave.

And Ronan was dragging his face up, tilting his chin so that their breaths mixed again in the same atmosphere, a molotov cocktail that left them both drunk. Their lips brush, softer than Adam expected, softer than Adam thought Ronan was capable of. And from his bruised lips Ronan drew the hallelujah.

He wished his adoration of the other man was capable of fluorescing, bright and obnoxious like the yellow highlighters he used to outline everything he couldn’t understand. He wanted light, light like overly white hospital rooms and light like summertime sweetness. He wanted Apollo to rain his poetry on their withering bodies.

But they were in a lightless motel room, the pale moonlight their only source of illumination, hiding and scared in the shadows of their mutual secret, a secret that required two to keep.

Adam tried to ignore the image of Gansey’s disappointment shoe-horned into his imagination as Ronan let his thighs fall open and bracketed around Adam’s waist, an open early solstice sacrifice.

And when Adam lurched to devour Ronan’s oxygen again as his hungry hands roamed freely along the sharp mountain ranges of the god he loved, an eclipsed occurred where the sun met the moon.

Ronan compared him to the sun sometimes, when they hid from Gansey between classes and Adam taught Ronan how to read tarots he was too impatient to master. He would point to the sun card and the magician card, saying they were the same thing.

Adam didn’t agree.

Ronan was his sunlight, his solar rays blinding and painful to look at. If Adam stared too close, his eyes would water and his skin would dry out. Ronan offered more skin, Adam drank up his light greedily until he was sure all the darkness in him had corroded away.

Maybe they were both the sun and the moon at once, stark different and impossible to tell apart at times. Adam would be the sun if Ronan needed him to, he would be the moon if Ronan asked it from him.

Adam bit into the soft flesh of Ronan’s pale inner thighs, tasting pomegranate and bittersweet torture, Ronan twisting his fingers into Adam’s head of copper curls and twisting them like wildflower stems.

Helpless pressure wrapped around his head and smothered Adam in heat as Ronan cried out awful prayers that belonged exactly here, miles away from any church in the near radius. In that motel room, the two of them had created their own place of worship from nothingness.

Adam had always been an Icarus of a boy, since he was young and fighting tooth and nail to escape the skin and the name he was forced to wear. Now he was sweltering and melting under sharp affection, wings ripping off his back and feathers kissing his skin in the form of Ronan Lynch’s bitten lips.

He left evidence all over the crime scene. Bruises and bitemarks, red railroads and leylines across Ronan’s chest and down his tattoo from his fingernails. He wanted to ruin Ronan in the same way Ronan had ruined him, completely without anything left to salvage, dandelions and baby tears sprouting in the cracks of his dirt-flesh.

In the dark, no one could see the raindrops falling from his eyelashes and streaming down his cheeks like the dead sea. He cried blood when his body was flushed against Ronan’s. He was the worst believer and too good of a martyr.

[incorrectborhapmobau]

Trying To Forget (Part Three)

Pairing: Famine (Joe Mazzello) x Athena (Reader), War (Ben Hardy) x Athena (Reader)

Word Count: 1,427

Warnings: NSFW Situations, Heavy Drug Use, Angst, General Heartbreak, Foul Language

A/N: This hurt me and I wrote it. I did warn you that this one would hurt if you asked to be tagged. Remember that.

The third kiss he knows is out of pity. He can see it in her eyes as she leans down to peck his cheek, her hand coming to touch his chin. It is a terrible feeling in his gut and he hates how much he yearns for more of her touch when she is clearly over him. Over whatever it is that they had together. He also hates how much she finds him at one of his lowest moments.

Famine sits slumped deep into the worn couch of the den, body spread open as smoke drifts across the room and anyone else in there with him are doing what they do best. On the table in front of him are wrappers, lighters, and a light dusting of white. He presses some of it to his finger before rubbing it against his gums, leaning back against the cushions of the couch. He wipes at his nose, already use to seeing the red that appears when he pulls his hand away and just wipes it on his trousers. He would be fine.

He should be at least.

He does not remember something hurting this much, not even during the war, and he was shot. He has the bullet scars to prove it. This though is a different type of pain and he cannot quite figure out why this hurts more than German bullets tearing through his skin. It is an ache in his chest and a queasiness in his stomach that he can’t quite shake. He thought maybe if for a moment he can forget what it is like to touch her, to hold her, to taste her thatat he would feel better. Turns out it only it worse, the drugs filling his mind of every memory he had of the two of them. Aphrodite he had called her that night, kissing her neck and breasts while she pulled his hair. Aphrodite who had kissed his wounds and reassuring him that he is still beautiful. All this time he had been calling her Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty, when in reality she is Invidia, goddess of envy and he hates how feel is jealous of his brother who gets to touch, hold, and taste any times he wants.

He remembers when he saw them together for the first time in her dressing room. War on his knees in front her and her fingers tangled in his white blonde hair head thrown back against the mirror as she bites down on her hand to keep from being loud. He remembers the drink falling from his hand, but them not noticing as he leaves in a hurry and too busy with each other to hear the glass hit the carpet. Silence and Conquest had tried to get him to join in their usual game of cards, but he pushed by them and leaving the bar as quickly as he could. He felt as if he could not breathe. Hearing about their tryst in the car is one thing, but seeing it right before him is something else entirely.

Famine doesn’t remember how he found himself in one of his own dens, but he does know that he has been here for a few days floating in and out sobriety only to find some type of high to pull him in. First it was a girl offering him a joint that he gladly accepted as well as a sloppy blowjob while he imagined it was someone else. After the high from the marijuana ended and the girl was gone he made a small deal for a dime bag of coke that he know he paid way too much for, but desperate times call for desperate measures. He can’t remember what came after the cocaine, but knows it must have been something good if he can clearly visualize her sitting on his lap, or is that one girl again? He can’t remember.

“What brought you here this time?”

His eyes are red and his pupils are blown from the drugs when he looks up to see one of his brothers. White blonde hair and green eyes is the only way he recognizes the man in front of him as War. If was not for that, he is positive that he would not be able to recognize who is standing there.

“Not sure what you mean.”

War presses his fingers to his nose. “Have you been here? This whole time?”

“And if I have?”

“Jesus Christ, Joseph,” War curses. “Sarina and Margaret have been out of their minds worried about you since you decided to pull a disappearing act on us.”

Margaret was worried? Sarina he can believe, but Margaret?

Famine scoffs at the thought. Even in his drug induced state he knows that is a lie. Margaret, who fucked him only a month later to claim she is dating his brother. Margaret, who comforted him about his insecurities while lying together on the worst mattress New Jersey had to offer.

“What happened to make you be like this again?”

When Famine doesn’t answer, War kicks the table. He has no reaction to the act of aggression, too busy trying to not say her name. To not give away anything that would so much as hint of his time with her, but oh how he wants to. He wants to tell War of how much he wants her back in his bed. He wants to tear everything apart if it meant having her back with him. He knows his brother well enough that if he chose to, War would understand and would let them be together.

“Just sober up and come home,” pleads War. “Sarina’s promised your favorite for dinner when you do. If you do.”

Famine just nods his head that he is not sure if it is an agreement or just because he wanted his brother to leave him alone. He would be home soon. Hopefully, but he makes no promises.

Famine is not sure how many days have passed since War found him. He still sits in the den, this time on a poorly maintained bed (that he is not surprised about) with the same girl who had given him the joint when he first arrived. This time she brought hallucinogens that tasted like candies. Just like the ones Eddie sells in his shop above the bar. They also came in fun shapes and she would put them on his tongue for him to chew.

She told him her name, something that starts with a ‘B’, but he can’t remember. It isn’t worth remembering since she’s the wrong person to be lying with him.

The drugs seem to work though. Maybe too well because he can see Margaret standing at the foot of the bed, her arms crossed and a gleam in her eye that he can clearly identify as anger. He sits up, not bothering as the girl next to him groans when she falls from his chest and onto the pillows but remains in a deep sleep.

“And now I’m really seeing things,” Famine mutters pulling his trousers on and walking towards the couch where little baggies are still full and a small tin still held the fruity candies that he has started to like. He passes her and is shocked when solid meets solid that he reels back from her, almost falling on his ass in surprise.

Margaret just looks at him, the anger faded seeing how far deep he was in his high state. “Oh Famine…”

“Don’t. You don’t get to be sympathetic.”

“What do you mean? You’ve been gone two weeks! The only thing we knew about you is that you’re alive from when Ben said you’d be back in a couple of days!”

Two weeks?

Well, that changes things.

“So he’s Ben now? When did War become Ben to you?”

“Does it really matter? You need to come home.”

Famine feels hot with anger and stares at her incredulously.

“Does it matter? Yes, it matters! Even if you don’t see it, it does! You have no idea the effect you have on people do you? You have no idea that you both me and Ben wrapped around your finger ready to be used whenever you need us. I am here trying to forget you, for fuck’s sake! But no matter how much I take, you always seem to be there. Even when I don’t want you to be.”

Margaret is crying and he prides in that before the crushing guilt weighs down on him.

"I'm sorry you feel that way."

Tag List: @deakydeakydeaky @borhap-socials @mobauvodkaaunt @briarrose26 @thewinchesterchronicles @jubel-raised-you-from-perdition

[willyoubethere]

Visions of Aphrodite

Whenever I see my friend kiss her boyfriend, or when I read about a perfect couple in whatever book has caught my attention this time, whenever I hear the soft lyrics in that one song, or scroll across happy lovers on my TikTok for you page, I think of you. I think of a life we could have, of conversations that could be spoken.

I can see how we meet: in a random comic book shop in another state, as roommates at college, accidentally bumping into each other at a punk concert. You always approach me; even in my dreams I know I’m too afraid to ever talk to someone like you. We bond over music, literature, comics, politics - you are immediately entranced by someone like me.

Sometimes your skin is dark and your hair in thick dreads, sometimes your skin is lighter and your curls tied back in a loose bun. Your eyes are always brown because brown eyes shine like honey in the sun and swirl like a dancer’s shadow in the dark. Sometimes you’re an artist who sketches drawings of me when I’m not looking, other times you’re a scientist who explains the way things exist late into the night. Either way I admire the way your brain works.

In my mind, I can see the way your eyelashes flutter when I kiss your neck, the curve of your collarbone, the warmth of your hand when it lingers against my back. I can see the sparkle in your eyes when you throw your head back and laugh, the wind pushing strands of hair into your face, the curves of your lips as you look at me and smile. I can see how passionately you live, how fiercely you love, how boldly you survive. I can see that you love me, and sometimes, I can feel it too.

But for now I sit alone at my dining room table, listening to a playlist titled “my imaginary love”, reading the next sapphic book that will leave me in shambles. You might not exist next to me yet, but my sweet Aphrodite, know that my heart will always have a place set aside for you, whenever you decide to take a seat at my table.

[painting-aphrodite]

•

New Moon in Gemini

Monday 30-05-2022

12:30 PM GMT

The zodiac sign Gemini is associated to topics such as:

Local (travel), transport, siblings, Neighbours/neighbourhoods, paperwork, media platforms/ personnel , social activities, messages/ messengers, interactions, movement, the internet, thinking/ logic, trade, work involving communication, learning, books, nervousness, restlessness etc,.

Gemini rules over the lungs, hands, shoulders and upper arms.

Air is the element ruling and is the fastest moving out of the four ( Fire, Earth, Air and Water).

This lunation will bring about a lighter and more curious mood compared to the last 2 months.

The last two Eclipses ( in Scorpio and Taurus) where in fixed signs, causing much introspection, intensity and dealing with rigid structures.

Gemini is a mutable sign, this means many swift changes will occur not all happenings or undertakings will be permanent.

Extra caution should be taken when signing or agreeing over undertakings around this time.

All the details may not be on the table.

After the 3rd of June when Mercury goes direct - useful information will be brought to the forefront ( at a individual and collective level).

A form of clarity with a hint of unpleasantness.

Just like the weather of the summer months the celestial transits also indicate to a heating up in the mundane sphere.

Involvement of uniformed bodies (armies) seems imminent. The martial nature of each individual will be at its heights especially with regards to politics, personal beliefs, the religious, law and philosophy. A push towards new beginnings and expansion.

Many confrontations and disagreements. Much violence and / or attacks.

Physical activity, initiations linked to the self and any leadership endeavours shall be beneficial.

Much energy and wisdom present to act wisely and not rush in decisions or reactions ( Jupiter in Aries while Mars is also in Aries) much anger/ fires.

Food sources, basic security, finances, topics revolving around peace ( Venus ruled matters) are highlighted/ questioned.

Venus is now in its Dignity in the sign of Taurus.

•​ Painting Aphrodite

[shootingupstardust]

types of people: major greek gods

&& zeus || a voice that demands to be listened to, clear blue eyes, watching a movie and knowing how its going to end, the leader of the group, the one with rumbled laughter, the one that dreams of flying far away and had big big plans, the know-it-all, rain jackets, grey clouds with the sun poking through, the excitement and fear you feel when lightning flashes, the hairs on your arm standing on end

&& hera || the confidence you feel doing what you are passionate about, naturally long eyelashes, sharp eyes, highlighter on cheekbones, the one they hate but also admire, demands attention when you walk past, you know everyone's dirty secrets, nude lips and white painted nails, you are terrifying when angry, diamond anklets, silver rings, styled hair

&& poseidon || the sea foam that kisses your feet before you step into the ocean, deep eyes that you can't tell if they are blue or if they are green, sun kissed skin, the smell of coconuts and salty air, sand crystals left on your skin, weird tan/burn lines, crinkles by your eyes when you smile, you're a comfortable presence, you always feel better when you are near water, sunnies on always, tank tops and flip flops, the wind messing up your hair

&& demeter || clear skies and the first cold wind of the season, jumping in a pile of raked leaves, the smell of the earth when harvesting begins, the mom friend, extra sweaters in case someone gets cold, you love to watch things grow, running through a field of sunflowers, always barefoot, long hair that's braided, cinnamon candies, having to pet every dog you see, crying when no one is watching, pearls with white lingerie, keeping the house warm so you can sleep beneath the coolness of your quilt, sweaters with shorts

&& athena || staying up all night because you got caught up reading conspiracy theories, coffee rings on the table, a disorganized but organized desk, neat handwriting, overthinking so you can't sleep, leaving people on read because you forget, "let's get creative", knows it all, fountain pens, journals, mismatched knee socks, resting bitch face, remembers the little details about you, jean jackets, glasses, prank sinatra, gazed off into the distance and makes things awkward, that one friend you go to for advice even though they've never been in the situation, walking encyclopedia of irrelevant facts, listens to hamilton every day

&& ares || that overwhelming feeling you get when all your emotions overtake you and you see red, leather jackets, the smell of smoke that lingers after a bonfire, parkour, converse over vans every damn day, always has a lighter but doesn't smoke, getting into fights to defend someone's honor, bruised knees, dark circles underneath bright eyes, brown eyes, the revving of a motorcycle, not paying attention in class but acing the exam, trying to be punk rock but you're more pop punk, skateboarding is edgy, bitten nails, air drum solo, screaming when you're alone in your room and no one can hear you, when you smile it's like the world is at peace

&& apollo || that feeling when the sun finally rises after days and days of rain, the light always seems to want to be wherever you are, the sun slipping in through the window, acoustic guitars, humming to yourself, constant melody in your head, beat up sneakers, blonde hair, smiling eyes, glitter always seems to be on you, a yellow aura, the innocence of a child, laughing at inappropriate times, a song is always stuck in your head, flower crowns and singing in open field, cloud gazing, the color of honey, freckles everywhere because you are always outside, flushed cheeks, cherub-like face, warm hands, singing by a fire, the car ride on the way to see your favorite band play

&& artemis || the feeling you get sitting on your roof and watching the moon sit silently in the sky, vans shoes, jean jackets, staying up late on the weekends, sneaking out of your house, stargazing with your best friends after you all got high at a party, silver hair, observant eyes, an angry indie kid, ponytails, chapped lips, running through the woods, laughing when no one is around but the night sky, reading your horoscope every day, amethyst necklaces, arrow wrist tattoos, sticking up for your best friend no matter what, probably has a cat, pale skin, cold hands, the edgy friend, silver nail polish, black hair

&& hermes || the friend that keeps laughing at the joke even though it's been three days, hanging out with your friends all the time, never doing homework but still manages to pass the class, t-shirts, gossiping, getting the class clown award, different colored hair, track suits and adidas all the time, "psycho but cute but psycho", actually a meme, sneaky smirks, the sketchy friend, the loudest person in the room but still the one no one knows, could pick their friends anywhere out of a crowd, makes their mom say "no" so they don't have to go out, video games, soda overlord, "will there be food?", always munchie, might be high but we'll never know

&& aphrodite || the feeling of your heart skipping a beat when your crush walks by, bambi eyes, winged eyeliner, silk sheets, the one who never has a mean thing to say, can quote disney movies for anything, skinny jeans, cute boots, can't sing but will do it anyway, heart on their sleeve, teardrops, "rip out his ego with your fresh nails", the heartbroken, loves everyone and probably can't keep a relationship, gets bored easily but is easily entertained, trying their best, heart is always in the right place, moody, pastels, walking around your house in just your underwear, midnight snacks, pink lipstick, sparkling eyes, does color runs, kisses people as a way of greeting them

&& dionysus || tasting wine with your parents while you are underage, collecting wine glasses just to put plants in them (terrariums), "i only eat grape flavored popsicles", obsessed with cults, probably always watching crime shows, gets nightmares from the shows they watch, likes to randomly wear suits, constantly fixing their hair, overreacts to literally everything, can't tell if they are actually dramatic or just being annoying on purpose, is either eeyore or tigger there is no in between, getting drunk over a person (lovedrunk), karaoke nights, gentle touches, sharp cheekbones, believes in polygamy

&& hades || the comfort you get when it's pitch black in your room and you can finally sleep, has weird dreams about dying that wake them up in the middle of the night, takes forever for you to fall asleep, likes to cuddle, the underrated friend, the misunderstood, bright colored hoodies and track pants, tired but not because of their lack of sleep, extremely smart, lowkey nerd, wears contacts instead of glasses, tough love, cares way too much, cries themselves to sleep, has a million things running through their head, shoulder to lean on, feels like a burden, gets sad easily, trying their best, likes dark things but that's okay

&& hepheastus || the feeling you get when you are staring into flames, fireplaces, building with legos, drinking tea, scribbling down ideas in a journal, skilled artist, always has an invention to test out, rough hands, burn marks/scars from working, tired eyes, gentle hands, comfortable silence, reading the newspaper when you first wake up, always having something to do, that friend that's always busy, antisocial social club, flaky, soft-spoken, old tshirts and dirty jeans, shoes with holes in them, smells like clean laundry even though their clothes are always messy, organized, put together, knows where they are going in life, distant but sweet, the overlooked friend

[little-writings]

hello :) i've just found your blog and i've been catching up on the apocalypse au so far and its very very good, although im getting hecka angst. But anyways, could you do an au where Jumin and MC meet during a vacation and catch themselves falling for each other and just can't bring themselves to say goodbye when its over? xx

Awe thank you, that’s so sweet to hear!!! ZombieApocalypse!AU was actually probably the favorite one I’ve done and I’m incredibly excited to do another one eventually, in fact, I’ll probably set up a poll or something of the sort. 

As for the request, it sounds precious and I’d love to do it! Thank you so much and have a spectacular day!  (b ᵔ▽ᵔ)b

I got carried away this request was so fun

———————————————————————————————————–

“What’re you heading to Athens for?” You asked, tipping your head curiously in your seat on the airplane, looking at the person beside you.

“Pardon?” He turned his head to look to you, confused at your sudden voice. “Have we met?” 

“Oh-well no,” You laughed weakly, suddenly embarrassed. “I um-just thought the flight would be a bit better if it wasn’t spent in total silence.” 

“I suppose we ought to not be strangers then?” He reached out a hand for you to shake, a peculiar dullness in his gaze. “I’m Jumin Han.” 

You nodded returning the gesture. “MC, so if you don’t mind me asking again, what’re heading to Athens for?” 

He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat, his tone lowering a bit more comfortably. “’Vacation’ I think is the name for it. Wasn’t exactly my choice but my father insisted I take a break.” 

“Your father?”

“Yes, we work together.” 

You withheld a bit of a bit of laughter. “I hear that’s always fun,” You raised a curious brow. “What do you work in?”

“Business, I’m heir to the C & R company.”

You somehow nearly managed to choke on air. “You-what?” 

“What?”

“Well-it’s just…I don’t typically meet millionaires every day but-” You scoffed. “first time for everything I guess.” 

He chuckled just a bit. “What do you do then?” 

“Oh jeez- nothing impressive, just an average sort of thing.” 

“You shouldn’t be ashamed or anything,” He remarked. “Without average jobs, the economy would crumble to absolutely nothing.” 

“With how some people treat us you wouldn’t think so.” You huffed, sinking back in the cushions. “But you know-just how it is.” 

“It’s a shame really,” He mentioned. “It’s not much but I do think your work is very meaningful.” 

“That’s very sweet,” You replied. “Good to know there are a few nice people around.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.” He said. “Very few would vouch for you in that statement.” 

“Well, I’m not asking for people to vouch,” You smirked, folding your arms across your chest. “Am I?”

He smiled, sheepishly, shaking his head.

“No, I suppose not.” 

And that had been the beginning. 

You had spent the rest of the flight, chattering to one another, even throughout the night.

Though, that had mostly been on your part.

“Are you awake?” You’d whisper, seeing him clearly asleep, tapping his shoulder, ruffling his hair to wake him.

“W…What?” 

“There’s a really scary movie I can watch-but there’s no way I’m watching it alone.” 

And for some reason, he’d sigh, sit up, and watch it with you.

It felt like it would seemingly be that way forever.

Until it wasn’t.

Until the plane landed.

You both unloaded, even speaking to one another as you made your way throughout the airport, his voice perhaps a bit lighter now.

Softer.

Yet it all stopped as he saw his chauffeur. 

“I…It seems this is where I have to go.” He sighed a hint of sadness in his expression, his grip on his bag tightening. “Well, um…it was nice meeting you MC. Best of luck.” 

“You too. Take that well-deserved break of yours. I know I didn’t really give you any.” 

“Trust me,” He almost set a hand on your shoulder, pulling back at the last moment. “That was possibly the best time I’ve had in a long time.” 

And despite everything, a warmth bloomed in your chest.

Even as he left.

Yet as soon as he was out of sight, you couldn’t help but admit that you would’ve much rathered him stay.

However unlikely that would’ve been.

You instead, made your way to your hotel, a quaint, friendly environment with content and helpful people scattered about.

But not the man in the polyester suit.

Not that he was expected.

But you had hoped all the same. 

“What’s one of the best places to visit?” You asked the receptionist, early morning slipping in through the windows. 

She thought for a moment, tapping her finger against the desk, practically a light popping above as she came up with something. 

“Well, personally, I think you should check out the Theatre of Dionysus,” She told you. “I think you might be able to get there before tourists show up.” 

You nodded, stepping back, waving to her as you made your way out. “You know what, I think I’ll go check it out. Thank you!” 

You rushed down the streets, going off, pink still wavering in the sky as you arrived, creamy stones lining the seats that had once housed while not many, had much importance. 

You strolled about the walkway, sitting down against one of the flat stones, staring out what was once a stage.

But while you became engrossed in your thoughts, a voice suddenly brought you back.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you again.” 

You twisted your head to see him.

Jumin.

And the widest smile tugged at your lips.

And oddly enough, one came to him as well.

“Did you just miss me so much?” You questioned. 

“You’re hard to forget, but truthfully this was simply a happy accident.” He shrugged, letting out a faint bit of laughter. “Not that I mind.” 

“Neither do I,” You tapped the seat next to you. “Here, sit with me.” 

He obliged, sitting beside you. 

“Where are you staying?”

“Oh, just a little place nearby, what about you?”

“King George, in Constitution Square.” He answered. “Have you heard of it?”

“The hotel that is worth more money than I”ll make in my whole life,” You snickered. “Once or twice.” 

“I could book you a room as well if you’d like,” He offered. “I’d be willing to pay for anything you might like there.”

“Goodness,” You shook your head. “no I could never accept that.” 

“I have no trouble to do that really.” 

“But I do. Don’t go spending your money on me like that, I can take care of myself.” 

“…Alright…” He murmured. 

“What?” You furrowed your brow, frowning. “What is it?”

“I’ve simply never had anyone not want anything from me before.” 

“Never?” 

“No…never.” He appeared to notice something was wrong with it. “I don’t quite know how to feel about it.” 

You set a hand on his arm, squeezing it lightly. 

“First time for everything?”

He nodded, letting out a weak snigger.

“Yes…Yes, I guess you’re right,” He sighed, standing up adjusting the cuffs of his suit.

“Hey-where are you going?”

“That’s not the question you should be asking.” 

“What should I be asking then?”

“Where are we going.” 

“What do you mean?”

“You said there’s a first time for everything, so-come on then.” He reached out to you, his fingers gently curling around you. “I want to take you somewhere.” 

“I already said not to take me to that castle-”

“No, this is different. I think you’ll like it.” 

Plaka.

Plaka was a small neighborhood village with flowers lining from roof to roof, quietly aged cobblestone roads beneath your feet as you walked beside him.

“Where’d you hear of this place?” You inquired, sitting down across from him in the cafe, hidden away by the hillside. 

“My assistant recommended it to me before I left, saying it was a very calm and lovely place. Reminded me of you when I started thinking about it.” 

“I’m not very quiet.” 

“Perhaps not but you are-” He stopped himself, a bit of red sprinkling his cheeks.

“What? What am I?” 

“You are um…l-lovely I-I mean…” He looked to you for only a moment before letting out a bit of flustered laughter, looking away. 

“E-Excuse me?” 

“I don’t mean anything by it y-you’re simply just-” He shrugged, nearly trying to wipe the heat from his face. “unlike anyone else I’ve ever met.” 

“In a good way?” You asked, leaning a tad over the table.

“In the best way possible.” 

And from then on, you were inseparable.

You exchanged numbers and you found each other calling each other more than you had expected.

Which truthfully, could’ve simply been once and you would’ve been surprised.

But it was much more.

You would wake up in the middle of the night, lids groggily raising as the phone rang, raising it to your ear ready to almost burst with frustration.

But then you heard him.

And somehow, it melted away.

“Hello…MC, I hope I’m not waking you.” 

“U-Um no-no not at all!” You exclaimed, holding back a yawn.

“Good.” 

“So…uh…why’d you call?” 

“I…I wanted to hear your voice,” He answered, softly. “That was all.” 

“Oh.” You felt your heart begin to race, flustered beyond belief. “Well, um-here I am.” 

“Yes…I’m glad you are.” He continued. “If you don’t mind, could you just stay on the line? Talk about whatever it is you may like, I just…I just want to listen.” 

“I haven’t really got anything interesting to say.” 

“I doubt that.” 

“Oh, you do know?”

“I do, very much so in fact.” 

“Well, what if I’m just silent then this whole time?”

“I don’t see you doing that.” 

“…I don’t see me doing that either.” 

Each day it appeared to be something new.

Athens or otherwise. 

“Do you even know who Hephaestus is?” You looked to him, wandering the temple beside him.

“Yes, it just so happens I do.” 

“Who is he then?”

“God of blacksmithing, sculptors, and artisans.” He explained. “He is unable to use his legs and was cast out by the gods when he was discovered to be imperfect. He fought his way back, however, and was wed to Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty.” 

“Well aren’t you an educated man?”

“I’d certainly hope so.” 

And as your hands were close, you felt the side of his against your own. 

And soon they began to intertwine with yours.

But you never let go.

It seemed the two of you would never.

Until never came.

You met Jumin at the airport as he prepared to leave, a sort of sadness overwhelming you as you watched him arrive, his suitcases held in his grip.

“MC…” He sighed, attempting to grin. “I’m glad you could come.” 

“I am too…I think.” 

“You think?” 

“I mean if you stayed that’d be great too.” 

“It would be,” He confessed. “I think we might’ve missed a few places.” 

“Maybe next time?” 

“I can only hope.” 

An announcer came on, a voice booming over throughout.

“I…I need to go. That’s my flight.” 

“Right…don’t think Athens will be too fun without you though.” 

He let out a deep breath raising his palm, hovering just over your cheek, debating for a second.

Before you answered for him.

You sank into his palm, offering him a smile that he wholeheartedly returned, despite the sorrow in his features.

“I…goodbye MC.” 

“Bye.” 

He drew away, making his way down the hall through the pools of people.

Leaving you.

So, what else could you do?

You did the same. 

You turned away, heading back the way you came, pushing past what felt like hordes of people to the door.

Until you heard a voice.

A familiar one.

Jumin’s. 

“MC!” He yelled out, dropping his suitcases as he found you at the exit. 

You twisted around to meet him, gaze widening like dinner plates. 

“J-Jumin?” You were baffled. “W-What’re you doing? You’re going to miss your flight!” 

“I’m very well aware of that,” He huffed. “But I…I didn’t want to leave.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t want to leave…without you.” 

Speechless. 

“I-I’m in love-I’m in love with you.” He struggled to keep his cool. “I’m i-incredibly in love with you actually.” 

“I-I um.” 

You didn’t really know what to say.

So you just said what you felt. 

“I-I love you too!” 

“You do?”

You took in a sharp breath, unable to withhold your giggles.

“I-I do!” 

“T-Then will you come with me?” 

“S-Should I?”

He held onto your hands, running a delicate thumb over your knuckles. 

“Well…I certainly think so.” 

“Then…” You beamed. “how can I say no to that?” 

He pulled you closer, tipping his forehead against your own, hardly inches apart.

Yet before he closed the space between you, he spoke.

With utter adoration.

And true delight.

“I suppose you can’t.”