#I still don't fully understand lighting and shadows but i had a really fun time blending

[paruecake]

After loooong pause, all of the hype around OPLA has made me want to try to catch up in One Piece again.

[lifeofpriya]

Hey hey! I would love to request this one from the estsblishedd relationship list please 🥺 Asking you if you're okay with them going to hang out with their friends tonight, except they really want you to say no. ❤️❤️

hi hi anon! you got it 🫡🫶🏼❤️ i'm still working through the rest of the requests i have in my inbox, so get set for an onslaught of Jack fics, y'all 🤭

A Subtle Plea

wc: 2.2k

You're sitting on the plush couch in your shared apartment, the soft fabric molding around your form as you scroll through your phone. The room is bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, casting long shadows across the sleek hardwood floor. The sound of Jack's footsteps echo through the hallway, and you look up as he enters, his tennis bag slung over one shoulder. His hair is still damp from his recent shower, and you can't help but appreciate the way the light glints off the beads of water that cling to the ends.

"Hey," he says, his voice a comforting rumble that fills the space between you.

You look up from your phone, meeting Jack's gaze. His eyes, an intoxicating shade of hazel that mirrors the flecks of gold in the fading sunlight, are filled with a cautious hope. You've known him for almost a year now and watched him climb the ranks of professional tennis, his dedication and passion for the sport leaving you both in awe and slightly envious of the time it consumes. But in this moment, as he stands before you in his casual wear, the scent of fresh mint from his shower gel lingering in the air, you see the boyish vulnerability that often hides behind his confident exterior.

"Hey," you reply, setting your device aside. "How was practice?"

Jack's expression relaxes slightly, a smile playing on his lips as he drops the bag to the floor. "It was good," he says, walking closer. "But tough. I think I might need some downtime."

You nod, understanding the toll his rigorous training schedule takes on him. His muscles, honed from hours on the court, flex beneath the fabric of his shirt as he sits next to you, leaving just enough space to feel the heat of his body without touching. He glances at the TV, where the muted replay of a tennis match flickers, then back to you, his eyes searching.

"I was actually thinking of hanging out with the guys tonight," he says, the words tumbling out as if he's trying to gauge your reaction before he can fully form the sentence. "You know, just to unwind. They're all heading to the pub."

You feel a twinge of disappointment, but you hide it well. You know how much he values his friendships, how he craves normalcy amidst the whirlwind of his career. Plus, you had plans of your own, a quiet night in with a new book. But there's something in his tone, a hint of hopefulness that makes you believe he's actually waiting for you to object.

"Oh, really?" you say, tilting your head to the side. "What time are they expecting you?"

Jack shrugs, his eyes darting to the clock on the wall before returning to yours. "They said around eight. It's nothing serious, just a few drinks and some laughs."

You nod again, considering his words. You know he's asking for your permission, but there's a part of you that wishes he didn't feel like he had to. You want him to live his life, to enjoy the moments that don't revolve around his racket and the roar of the crowd.

"Jack, you should go," you say, placing a hand on his arm. The warmth of your touch seems to make him relax even more. "You need to take care of yourself, and if that means spending time with your friends, then you should."

Jack's smile widens, relief washing over his features. He leans into your touch, his eyes lighting up. "Are you sure?"

You nod, squeezing his arm gently. "Yeah, go have fun. I've got a new book I've been dying to start anyway."

Jack's eyes sparkle with gratitude, and he leans in to kiss you, his lips warm and familiar. "Thanks," he whispers. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

You smile back, trying to ignore the small voice in the back of your mind that wonders if he's actually relieved or if he had secretly hoped you'd ask him to stay. "Don't worry about it," you say. "Just have fun and don't do anything stupid."

Jack chuckles, a sound that never fails to make your heart flutter. "Scout's honor," he says, raising his right hand in a playful salute.

You watch as he stands, the couch cushion bouncing back into place with a soft whump. He crosses the room to the kitchen, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. The refrigerator door swings shut with a satisfying click, and the coolness of the room retreats.

"Do you want anything before I go?" he asks, twisting the cap off the bottle.

You shake your head, feeling a strange mix of excitement for him and a hint of loneliness creeping in. "No, I'm good. Thanks."

Jack takes a long swig of water, his Adam's apple bobbing in a way that makes your pulse quicken. He sets the bottle down on the counter and turns to face you, his eyes searching yours once more.

"You're not mad?" he asks, the hope in his voice as palpable as the anticipation in the air.

You shake your head, smoothing a nonexistent crease from your jeans. "Why would I be?"

Jack's shoulders drop, his posture relaxing. "I don't know, sometimes I feel like—"

You cut him off with a soft laugh. "Jack, you don't have to explain. We all need our space."

Jack nods, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting yours again. "I know, I just—"

You place a finger to his lips, silencing him. "You don't have to explain, really." You lean in to kiss him gently, feeling the softness of his skin and the gentle pressure of his lips. "I'll be fine," you whisper, pulling away.

Jack's eyes searched yours, looking for any signs of doubt or hidden emotions. "Okay," he says finally, his voice a little less sure than before. He reaches for his phone, sending a quick text to his friends. You can almost hear the cacophony of their responses, the anticipation of the evening's festivities buzzing through the screen.

You stand up, walking over to where he's leaning against the kitchen counter. "But," you add, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth, "you do know what this means."

Jack raises an eyebrow, his hazel eyes sparkling with curiosity. "What's that?"

You lean in closer, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "It means that I'll have the whole place to myself. And I plan on making the most of it."

Jack's eyes widen, the realization dawning on him. "Oh, you do, do you?" he says, a hint of mischief playing at the corners of his mouth.

You nod, your smirk growing into a full-blown smile. "Mmhmm."

Jack's eyes dance with amusement as he sets his phone down, stepping closer to you. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies are flush against each other. "Well, then," he murmurs, his breath tickling your ear, "maybe I should get going sooner so you can start enjoying that 'me time' of yours."

You laugh, feeling the warmth of his embrace seep into your bones. "You're terrible," you say, pushing him away playfully. "Go, before I change my mind and demand you stay."

Jack laughs too, the sound rich and deep, as he steps back, his arms falling away. He grabs his phone, tucking it into his pocket with a wink. "See you later," he says, and you watch as he heads back to the hallway to grab his keys.

You follow him, the floorboards creaking slightly beneath your feet. At the door, he stops and looks back at you, the question in his eyes. "You really are okay with this?"

You nod, the smile on your face genuine. "I am," you reply, "but remember, no coming home too late or too loud."

Jack laughs, the sound resonating through the room as he opens the door. "Wouldn't dream of it," he says, leaning in to kiss you one last time before slipping out into the corridor.

You listen to his footsteps fade down the hall, feeling a strange sense of liberation mixed with a hint of sadness. The apartment suddenly feels too quiet, too still, without his constant movement and energy.

With a sigh, you decide to make the most of the evening ahead. You slip into the kitchen, the cool tiles a stark contrast to the warmth of your bare feet. You've always found comfort in the familiarity of this space; the way the light dances across the countertops and the hum of the fridge serves as a soothing white noise.

Jack's scent lingers in the air, a potent mix of mint and sweat, reminding you of his presence. You inhale deeply, letting the smell wash over you, savoring the moment before it fades. Then, you pivot on the spot, the wheels in your mind already turning. The evening stretches out before you like a canvas, waiting to be painted with whatever adventure you wish to embark on.

You meander through the apartment, contemplating your options. The TV beckons with the siren's call of your favorite show, the bookshelf whispers sweet nothings of forgotten worlds and characters you've been dying to reconnect with.

But then, a mischievous glint enters your eye. You remember the bag of chocolate-covered pretzels hidden in the pantry, a guilty pleasure Jack has no idea about. The perfect companion for a night of unadulterated indulgence. You tiptoe over, the thrill of secrecy making your heart race slightly. The bag crinkles as you pull it out, the sugary scent wafting into the room. You grab a handful and make your way to the couch, the salty sweetness of the first bite making your taste buds dance.

With the TV remote in hand, you scroll through the endless options, finally settling on a cheesy rom-com that Jack would never sit through. You snuggle into the cushions, letting the predictable plot and laughable dialogue wash over you like a warm blanket.

The hours pass in a blur of laughter and chocolate pretzel bites, the sound of your chewing a comforting rhythm in the quiet apartment. You're lost in your own little bubble, feeling both content and a little guilty for enjoying the solitude so much. But it's not often you get the place to yourself, and you're determined to revel in it.

As the credits of the movie start to roll, the door opens, and Jack's laughter fills the hallway before he even enters the room.

"Hey," he calls out, the sound echoing in the empty space. You sit up, wiping the crumbs from your shirt, realizing you've devoured almost the entire bag of pretzels.

"Back already?" you ask, trying to keep the surprise out of your voice. You didn't expect him to return this soon.

Jack's laughter fades as he sees you, the empty pretzel bag on the coffee table. "I had fun, but I missed you," he says, walking into the room with a slightly unsteady gait. His friends' voices are a distant murmur from the stairwell, their goodbyes trailing behind him.

You smile, trying not to look too pleased that he's home early. "How was the pub?"

Jack flops onto the couch beside you, his arm draping over the back, his fingers brushing against your shoulder. "It was alright," he says, his tone suggesting that it wasn't the epic night he had been hoping for. "The usual banter, some new faces, but nothing too crazy."

You look at him, his eyes slightly glazed from the beer, his cheeks flushed with a hint of pink. There's something endearing about seeing him like this, unguarded and somewhat tipsy. You scoot closer, taking the opportunity to study the freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose and the way his hair sticks up in random places.

"Did you win at darts?" you ask, knowing it's one of his favorite pub activities.

Jack grins, his eyes lighting up. "How did you know?"

"Just a lucky guess," you reply with a smirk, popping another pretzel into your mouth.

Jack's eyes narrow playfully as he takes in the scene. "You had quite the little party here without me, didn't you?"

You laugh, the sound a little too loud in the quiet room. "It's just me and my chocolate pretzels," you say, holding up the bag as evidence.

Jack snatches it from your hand, peering inside with a faux look of disappointment. "Looks like you had a wild night," he teases, a grin playing on his lips. He tosses the bag back to you, his hand landing on your leg. The weight of it sends a warm shiver up your spine.

"It's been a blast," you reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "You really missed out."

Jack laughs, his eyes still on the TV screen as he leans his head against the couch. His fingers trace idle patterns on your leg, sending small electric currents through your body.

"I'm sure it was," he says, his voice thick with amusement. "But I had a good time too. It's nice to let loose once in a while."

You nod, watching him with a knowing smile. "I bet it was."

Jack's hand moves up to your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "But you know what would make it better?"

You look over at him, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

Jack's smile widens, his eyes finally meeting yours. "Cuddling on the couch, watching terrible TV with you."

[this-is-krikkit]

hi!! read you're doing prompts, can you do the 9th? i feel like it's a perfect one for levihan 😂

send me a number and a ship and i'll write a drabble!

thank you for sending this prompt ! it does have undeniable levihan vibes to it 😏

Prompt 9. “You can’t banish me! This is my bed too!”

Zeke (★now edited and posted on ao3 ★)

Characters: Levi, Hange, Zeke

Tags: modern au, levihan, no zekehan or zevi i promise, i just think i'm hilarious sometimes and you guys have to deal with it hehehe, erumike mentioned, tw alcohol mention ig

.

Hange gets out of the shower, puts on the clean shirt Levi had left for them in the bathroom and sneaks into the bedroom quietly. They successfully stop a yelp from escaping and only wince as they bump their toe into their bedside table, and put the miraculously unspilled glass of water they'd brought in with them on it.

They crawl under the duvet quickly, delighted to have made it here just as the hangover headache was starting to make their head throb, and frown as they realize something heavy has taken over most of their side of the bed. They reach back and click their light on, and feel their eyes widening as they take in the sight.

"What the- Levi, what's Zeke doing here?" they ask, way too loud even by their own standards.

"Fuck's sake, four-eyes," Levi moans, voice groggy and dry, "what's it look like? He's sleeping. And so am I, so shut the fuck up and turn the damn light off."

Hange bites their lip to stop themself from commenting on his bed hair or the adorably cranky look on his half asleep face, and obey his order.

Before they swiftly climb over both him and the dog, and stretch their arm far enough to turn on the light on his own bedside instead. They fully laugh when Levi whines again, swearing some more, and the Husky joins his protest with a loud howl.

"And where do I sleep, grumpy-grumps?" Hange asks, fluffing the dog's fur, who quickly calms down at the attention.

"I don't care, just get out of my bed," Levi replies, his voice all muffled from speaking into his pillow as he protects his eyes from the sting of the light.

Hange gasps in faked horror, Zeke looking up at them in concern at the sound.

"You can't banish me! This is my bed too!"

Levi groans again, and blindly feels behind him with his hand.

"Not anymore," he sighs in reflief when he finds his mark and darkness replaces the cruel artificial light. "Now it's mine and Zeke's."

"Right... and since when do you allow this- how'd you put it again- 'overactive drama queen of a hairball', to get on the sheets you love so much and shed all over them?" Hange pushes, genuinely curious.

"Since you leave me for two nights in a row to go on a weekend-long party with your brother and his brainless jock friends. And I was planning on changing the sheets later today anyway," he adds as an afterthought.

"Mike's bachelor party was fun, honey, thank you for asking," Hange replies playfully. "But I still don't understand how that has anything to do with your rules regarding the dog's sleeping-

"For your information, your four legged soulmate here wouldn't stop whining and howling at the front door until I let him come in here," he interrupts in a huff. "I don't know what he was so anxious about, but he had a really hard time sleeping without you around."

Hange's eyes have grown accustomed to the shadows by now, and they don't miss the way Levi stares at Zeke, actively avoiding to look at their own face. They should have known from the minute they came home and Levi was still in bed in the middle of the day that his insomnia had been acting up again, and it twists something in their gut to hear him confess so in his own twisted way, especially when they know he'd been working long hours the week before.

They hum and perch themself back on what little space they've got left on their side of the bed, letting one of their hands land on Levi's pillow to ruffle his hair and massage his scalp as they pet the dog's fur with the other.

"I'm sorry you didn't get to rest properly," they say softly.

Levi sighs, and his fingers link with theirs over the dog's belly.

"From the looks of you right now, I'd say you didn't either," he jokes. "Did you really have fun?"

"So much. I don't see how Erwin's going to beat that next weekend, honestly."

"Well, don't tell him that. He's so competitive he'd do the craziest shit just to try and prove you wrong."

They feel their own grin widening, and Levi chuckles when he spots it.

"Tch, four-eyes..." he warns, shaking his head in faked disapproval.

"Come on, what's the point of being one groom's sibling and the other's best friend if I don't get to mess with them a little?"

They yawn around the end of the sentence, which makes it sound way less villainous than they'd meant.

"Better get some rest while you can, then, evil mastermind," Levi scoffs, failing to hide his own reflex yawn.

Hange vaguely remembers letting out a weak laugh and pinching his nose in retaliation for his mocking tone, before falling into deep slumber.

[penultimate-step]

JJK S2 Livewatch: Eps 5-7

the watch continues! Ep 5 acts as a sort of coda to the previous arc, and then we return to the present time for eps 6 and beyond. honestly that surprised me - part of the fun of going blind into a series that you heard mutterings about but don't know details is seeing where you have weird impressions for no reason. I thought the flashback arc was going to be more substantial - like half this whole season. joke's on me, I guess, but it's fine.

Ep 5 continues going extremely hard and unsubtle on the imagery. Like 15 minutes are devoted to showing just how traumatized Geto is. Everywhere he goes, a part of him is back in that audience room, hearing the cultists cheer. The show uses audio and visual cues to indicate this to the audience - windows act like TV sets and display scenes from the past, the sound of rainfall is swapped out for the sounds of applause. I'd be quite interested to know how the manga conveyed it, because these all seem like flourishes distinct to the adaptation, which I appreciate. Eventually we get to the moment of Geto's final choice, with the light flickering his shadow into two versions of him that he could become, he fully becomes a villain and massacres the town.

Honestly, while I did feel the ep was great, if I do have a complaint it did feel like the whole thing happened way too fast. I didn't question my assumption that the flashback was going to be longer last time because it seemed like there was a long way to go for Geto to become the self he was by the movie, but in the end it felt pretty abrupt. He struggles for a while with inner doubts then decides he will be the kind of person to commit mass murder, and then does. It's a little weak for a villain arc.

What's not weak is the scene where Gojo confronts Geto, though. My favorite bit is how they have their argument in the middle of a crowded street. The way passerby are going about their day, pushing the two aside, really emphasizes the whole thing - because the everyday civilians can ignore the sorcerers, can walk right past them as if they are in a different world entirely, but they aren't. theyre right there, and their presence is very clearly what the whole fight is about. One of my favorite scenes.

I liked the scene right before where Geto talks with Shouko a bit less, though. Apparently she doesn't go on missions? I'm curious what her deal is. Anyway. Feels like she didn't get enough screentime for me to understand her relevance or her importance to the other characters. Between her and Tsukumo, both of the relevant female characters in this ep only have screentime so that they can show up and ask the main men about their feelings. The "proud" shonen tradition of strict gender roles in action I suppose.

Overall while I have some issues with the pacing, and think the flashback needed some more substance to make us really feel the change in Gojo and Geto, I still liked ep 5.

Ep 6 brings us back to the present, but not fully into the main plot just yet. First we have a brief interlude where the main trio meet at a cafe, along with an old classmate of Yuji's. Going to be real, I had forgotten what the personalities of these three even were, so it was nice to have a relaxed refresher before jumping into the main event. That is the main purpose of this little event, I think, a bit of a tone cleanser to break up the melancholy flashback and the action-heavy present time. It's also good to get glimpses of the lives of the protagonists from before they entered the story - little bits of characterization can go a long way.

As for the battle that follows, I have mixed feelings. It did have the kind of overly flashy fight style that I disliked in S1. However, the fact that the guy brought out a whole mecha does make it seem warranted this time. It didn't really grab me as a fight, but probably if it had been less dramatic I would have thought it had fallen flat.

The fact that I rambled for so much longer about ep 5 alone than the next two eps combined is probably a bad sign, I think. I just find the present day plot less interesting than the flashback was. But I'd rather be optimistic, the show still has plenty of time left to change my mind.

[obae-me]

I don't always do stuff like this and I know technically my requests are closed but to tell the truth I've wanted to do a little bit of a depressed MC too, seeing as how I struggle with it as well and ya know, writing is my own form of therapy. So, figure I might as well finally do a little something with it! These are mostly just words of encouragement, since I feel like we all could use them. Op, everyone, hang in there, we can make it through these hard times. I really hope this is something along the lines of what you wanted <3

------

"You don't seem quite like yourself."

It was a simple phrase but a profound one. One that always had them getting caught up in their head about it. "This... is myself... A part of it anyway. Well, I know it's not really me, but it feels like that sometimes." The exhaustion, the loneliness, the feeling that dug at them deep in their chest at the worst of times. They knew it wasn't them, this illness didn't define them, but they couldn't ignore it either. It simply existed alongside them. They knew they could only hide it for so long. The others were bound to find out eventually.

"You're not happy? Is that it?"

"It's deeper than that," they sighed, trying not to let their mind spiral as they thought about it, although it was difficult not to. Happy was such a general term. "I wouldn't say I'm a happy person. It's kinda hard to be happy because my brain won't let me. I try, I really do. I can be out having fun with everyone and still feel this pit in my stomach. I can be laughing but at the same time feel something in the back of my mind. It never fully goes away." They felt their throat tighten as their eyes stung. "But...with you guys around... I can do anything. Everything is a little bit easier with you guys. I might not say I'm happy, but sometimes I get moments. Especially with you all. Little moments of peace that make life not so hard. So..." They look up, tears almost welling in their eyes. "Thank you for existing and being here..."

Lucifer:

This would be where one would expect him to say something suave and profound. He'd somehow swell with pride at being so depended on and at the same time snap his fingers and make the problem go away. But it wasn't like that. He couldn't do something like that. He didn't want to do anything like that, well, his part about his pride at least. He would tear their pain away without a moment's hesitation if he could. He had to be careful with how he went about this. He couldn't try to lecture like normal. This moment of vulnerability was not a light one.

So he simply sits with them, right next to them, a tired sigh leaving his lungs, both of them looking out towards nothing in particular. He may not fully understand their particular affliction, but he's had his fair share of turmoil, of burdens too heavy to be placed on his shoulders. His usual upright posture turns slack, something no one ever catches him doing. His back slumps, his elbows resting on his knees. "You have a heavy cross to bear," he finally speaks, looking over at them. "But whatever it takes to make the load a little lighter, me and my brothers will do it gladly." He places a gentle hand against their back rubbing up and down a little. "Your presence means just as much to us as ours does to you. Do not think you are weaker just because you struggle. If anything, fighting back against it all makes you that much stronger. Just know that you can do anything, and that's a power you have all on your own. I know that beyond a shadow of a doubt."

Mammon:

A range of varying emotions cross over his face. He's pained and angry and confused. "Why are you thanking me for something as silly as that, huh?!" They can hear the strain in his voice as he speaks, his heart plain on his sleeve for the world to see. He wants to take their pain away, but he knows he can't. And even as they thank him, there's still a sadness behind their eyes. He almost doesn't want to be thanked. Not like this. "H-Happiness is overrated anyway." It's supposed to be a joke, but his voice wavers.

Before he can stop himself, his arms are around them. It's almost to comfort himself as much as it is for them. He takes a deep breath, reminding himself that he's got to be the strong one right? "You're a weird one for sure...thankin' a demon for existing." If they feel uncomfortable with the hug, he'll pull away putting his jacket over their shoulders instead, but if they're okay with it, he'll hold them tighter. "You're so... You should be the one getting thanked if anything... Be greedy! Ask for more! Expect more! Existing is the bare minimum! Being here with you..." Suddenly, words he's kept to himself come spilling out. "Thank you for making a pact with me. Thank you for putting up with my silly schemes. Thank you for making me laugh. Thank you for being here with me...Thank you for being you. Thank you so much."

Levi:

He can only look down at the floor for a long time. He understands what they're saying. He's felt it too. The longing for what others have, for peace, for true happiness, for anything. A lot of it is probably his sin but his brain probably harbors some of the blame too. He feels guilty. He feels pathetic. He spends so much of his time complaining that he wonders if he makes MC feel worse. And yet, despite that, despite the way he thinks about himself, they told this to him. They opened their heart to him. Even thanked him. For what? For just existing.

"I don't deserve your thanks," he says softly. "I haven't done anything to help you feel better."

"That's not true," they assure him. "You spend time with me. You don't ask much of me. We can sit together in the same room in silence and be fine with that, and that's okay."

He did it again. He made the situation about him again. He became the one in need of comfort again. He has to grit his teeth, take a deep breath, and accept it. "O-okay." No more deflections. No hiding. He'll be the one to support. MC deserves that much at least. "Okay...If being here for you is all you need, I'll be here for you whenever... We'll get through the rough spots. A-and we can take it slow so it's not overwhelming. And you don't have to do it alone. We can tackle the challenges life gives us together."

Satan:

He opens his mouth to speak but then falls silent. He wants to try to boil this down to what he's read in books but...he can't. The knowledge he tries so hard to hoard has abandoned him in this moment. Sure he's researched it, but...MC isn't a paper, not a statistic, not something he can read so easily. So what should he do in moments like these? He's not entirely sure. This has to be something he figures out for himself.

He looks at them sympathetically. He knows what it's like to have something clinging to you always. His wrath is never fully gone, it's always there, some days better than others. "When you are drowning in an endless sea of fluctuations you learn to be grateful for when you breach the surface and take that nice deep breath." MC seemed a little confused at first at his analogy. He shook his head at himself a little before nodding his head at the human. "I understand to a point how you feel. It's nothing to feel guilty of. You are not defined by your weaknesses. You are so much more than that. Remember that always. And if you can't, we will always be here to make sure you never forget that."

Asmo:

"What...are you saying?" He covers his chest with one hand, like his heart is hurting. It is hurting. He tries to smile sweetly, but it falls short. Because, in his own soul, he feels the same in some aspects. It's always lust, never love. He has a hard time holding onto people, making connections. Anytime he goes to a party he loves being the center of attention, but that's just because he tries to ignore how lonely it is sometimes. There always seems to be a distance between him and others. Maybe that's why he tries so hard to be noticed.

He asks for a hug with his arms open wide, willing to do whatever MC is comfortable with. If they're willing, he'll hold them tightly. MC and his brothers are the only ones who have ever been so close to him. He can't lose this. And he knows that's how they feel too. "You are wonderful," he says all the sudden. "You're stronger than I am..." He lives on social media where everything is perfection and beauty and success all the time. He could never share his faults, his weaknesses, his deeper feelings. "You don't have to hide yourself from me. Show me everything about you, because you don't have to worry. I still think you're beautiful in every way."

Beel:

He can almost understand. The constant feeling of emptiness, like things aren't enough, like he has to go find something to make himself feel whole again. He felt that with Lilith, and ever since he fell down here he feels that with food. His hunger never goes away, and he has to live that way always. It's hard. But even if it's hard, he wouldn't hesitate to take it from MC if he had the chance. But he knows he can't.

He wants to scoop them up, to hold them tight, to never let them go. He wants to wrap them in a blanket like he does for Belphie, doing all the hard things for him. "I'll do whatever it takes to make you feel better. I'll always be here, always care for you. I'll carry you if you're too tired to walk, I'll share my food with you if you're hungry. I'll stay with you when you're feeling sad. Whatever it takes. You make things a little easier for all of us. I don't always feel so starving when I'm with you. Maybe when we're together, we help lift each other's burdens. So we should all stick together, like a big team. Like a family."

Belphie:

He's silent. His eyes closed. For a long while, it seems as if he's fallen asleep. But he's wide awake. He just doesn't know what to say. Even aside from their unique situation, even if they forgot all that, he still wouldn't know how to feel. But of course, this is extra difficult. Out of everyone, him being thanked for being here...it hits hard. But he can't think about all that right now. The more he thinks about it the more complicated his feelings become...and they're already complicated enough.

"Come lie down with me," he finally asks. It doesn't matter where they are, he'll pull them somewhere and lie down on the floor with them, staring up at the ceiling, his hand outstretched to grab something that doesn't exist before letting his hand fall back beside him. "Existing is hard...I get that," he whispers. "Everything takes energy...being happy takes energy, being sad that you're not happy takes energy, just being here breathing takes energy…I know that more than most." He gets a little closer to them, taking in their warmth. "So be proud you're doing what you can. Even if something seems simple to others, I know how hard it can be. Pride is usually Lucifer's thing, but no matter what you do, even if it's just one thing, even if it's just existing, know I'll celebrate it with you. We will take this exhausting world one day at a time."

Diavolo:

"Ah..." His voice drifts off, the smile that is usually on his face falls. He feels like as a prince, it's almost his duty to fix this, but it doesn't work like that. And as a demon, he's almost confused. Living the life he has had and always being curious, he always wants to ask questions. He wants to wonder why, he wants to figure out more, but he doesn't want to come off as insensitive. He just wants to understand.

But on one hand, he can understand. Living in a castle like this is lonely. Watching others be happy and have fun while you feel isolated is so difficult. Needing to be someone you feel like you are not because people are watching is draining. Those emotions he can understand at least. "I should be thanking you for being here as well. I knew I chose right when I brought you here. You have taught us so much, shown us so much. Your very existence has changed lives for the better, even if you don't think it has. Every good word, every smile, every little action has a meaning. Ah, but I'm getting ahead of myself aren't I? I am glad to be here for you. Thanks aren't necessary, but I am glad to take them, because being here with you makes me happy."

Barbatos:

His eyebrows scrunch ever so slightly, leaving a few wrinkles in his otherwise unmoving face. Then it's gone, most of his emotion left swirling behind his eyes. If no one looked at him, it would be lost. He's a royal butler, and as such, he's mastered hundreds of skills to ensure he would not be caught lacking in front of Diavolo. He's given advice, sure, mostly about responsibility. That would be rather useless advice here.

But he's not totally in the dark about what to do. "Would you like some tea? Or some sweets? I have something that I think would be perfect in this moment." He'll bring them whatever they desire. "You know what I like to do in stressful times?" He asks. "I close my eyes and I try to focus on everything around me at this very second. No past. No future. Just the now. Like the taste of baked goods or the smell of the herbs in the tea, the sound of the wind outside my window, the shapes and shadows behind my eyelids. And without using magic, it almost feels like time stops for just a moment. Take everything a step at a time. You are only ever your present you, so take care of yourself in the moment. Pause if you need to. Don't worry about how you feel and just draw in breaths, slow and steadily. Time is eternal, it's never impatient. You can go at your own pace. And know that I am also grateful for every moment I get to be with you."

Simeon:

He smiles a bit, although it's clear he can feel their pain almost as his own. He places a gentle hand on their shoulder. "Thank you for telling me. I know that...talking about this sort of thing can tend to be difficult. How about you sit down?" He'll take them somewhere where they can rest, finding another seat and pulling it in front of them.

If they allow him, he'll hold one of their hands, letting them squeeze his own as hard as they need to should they want it. "The definition of 'happy' can be described as feeling pleasure or contentment. There are different ways to feel 'happy'. You don't have to be excited every minute of every day. Even those small moments you mentioned, times where things just feel 'okay'. When you feel like you can take a relaxing breath, when you can look forward to the next little moment, that's all so important. You don't need to force yourself or feel guilty over feeling joy. You can make your own meaning of 'happy', this is your story after all. And I for one, am very glad I get to be a character in it. I will remain with you for however long you wish me to."

Solomon:

He hums to himself a bit. He had a feeling. Because, after all, he's also human. "Would you like a drink? Whatever you want." He'll summon whatever beverage MC settles on. Don't worry, nothing he's made, although he still doesn't know why he gets shunned from the kitchen. He'll hand it over to them, keeping one to himself, holding it up in a toast-like fashion.

"Here's to two unhappy humans." He's lived so long, seen so much, felt so much. His own mental state could be better. Then he'll take a sip, tilting his head at them. "Humans are such strangely complicated creatures. Solomon the Wise...and yet certain answers still escape me. I'm sorry...I wish I could pull out a spell or whip up a potion for you to use to take the problems away, but I know from experience it doesn't work like that. This isn't like a simple magical curse. But," he smiles an assuring smile. "It can get better. It does get better. Although it may come in waves, and there might be points where you feel like you're at square one, you can get back up. I'll be here to help pull you up again. You'd do the same for me right? Humans stick together."

I've been going through a lot recently, and I desperately need someone to write something about an MC who struggles with depression and I need to know how the Obey Me cast would react to MC saying this to them:

Mc: I'm not a happy person. Its kinda hard for me to be happy because my brain won't let me. But with you guys around... I can do anything. Everything is a little bit easier with you guys, so... thank you for existing and being here.

[folklord]

sweet deja vu

javier peña x f! reader | part 3/3 - as time goes by

masterlist | word count: +5400 | read part 2 here

summary: you finally meet Javier and confronts him about the visas, knowing fully well that Murphy did it first. the insistence and the love that remain create a nostalgia atmosphere, which ended up in a situation that makes it hard for you to leave.

warnings: 《 18+ 》 alcohol, explicit language, tons of angst, mutual masturbation, love bites.

"Javi. We need to talk."

He lifts his head and stares at you with a look that makes you regret it.

"Javi. Please." You beg.

He gets up, still dizzy, trying to keep his balance. He leans against the piano and stares at you for a few minutes, searching for the right words. You hold onto the strap of your bag tightly, too scared of his reaction. But all he says is,

"Why did you have to come to Casablanca? There are other places."

"You were our last hope. I didn't even think before deciding to ask for your help. Believe me, Javi, it's true."

"It's funny about your voice, how it hasn't changed. I can still hear it: 'Javier my dear, I'll go with you any place.'" He tunes his voice to make fun of you.

"Please don't. Don't, Javi. I can understand how you feel."

"Huh!" He yells, clearly altered. "You understand how I feel. How long was it we had, honey?"

"I didn't count the days." You're sincere, but it only breaks his heart even more.

"Well, I did. Every one of them." He says almost in a whisper, embarrassed to admit so much emotion. But when he realizes you were sad too, Javier tries to bypass the dialogue to overlap again. He does this by teasing you, as he knows exactly what works:

"Tell me, who was it you left me for? Was it Steve, or were there others in between?" He says with a smile.

Your blood rises when you are offended like that. In a reflex, you pick up the glass from the top of the piano and pour the content in his face, making Javier douse himself with whiskey. He wipes his eyes with his shirt sleeve and looks at you with even more hatred.

"How dare you talk to me like that, you filthy bastard?"

"Oh, classy girl…" He makes fun of you, folding his arms and leaning over the piano, scooping out the little bit of drink left between his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "I thought you could never talk to anyone like that…"

"It's because I've never been so offended"

"And I wonder how you would react if you were abandoned!"

You move closer to him, staring into those familiar brown eyes. Looking at him was nostalgia, a million times stronger.

"How spiteful you are. I refuse to believe that I broke down the wall that was Javier Peña. You're doing this to yourself."

"You dared to do to me what no woman has ever had." He says. You are surprised.

"Oh! So that's what this is about? Is it about your bruised ego? No whore can rebuild it?"

"It's not about my ego!" He screams.

"Then I don't understand you, Javier"

The silence remains for a few seconds. You dare not face each other.

You go around it, stopping in front of the piano keys and gently playing a rhythmless melody. He stares at you sideways, his big back shadowing you.

"It hurt me to see that you can still hear the song. That you... don't remember anything. That you aren't haunted." He says softly, shy and embarrassed.

“You have no idea the kinds of memories I have. You haunt me in..."

“Uh?"

“The most inappropriate situations...” you whisper.

He positions himself behind you.

"So I did it. You had sex, but you weren't fucked anymore."

"Javier!"

You yell and try to get away, but he spins you by the arm until you face each other. Javier brings his strong hands to your waist, holding you in place.

"Don't pretend, classy girl. We both know who you really are.”

He was drunk, messed up, a wreck. It was obvious he had become a different man. You didn't know if it was because of you or years of exhausting work. But when did you stared into those brown eyes, almost black in the dim light, you knew there was still there the man you'd almost given your life to. The hands that hold you tightly, sliding up the curve of your ass and pull you up the piano, are still the same, strong and magnetic. These are the hands that you know more than yourself.

You feel the cold marble touching your thighs and your dress ride up, making an icy air invade your already damp parts. Javier slides you down enough that you're sitting all over the piano, your heels touching the ivory keys before weaving his hips and pulling him closer. You hold him by the dirty collar and he slides his hands over your thighs. You hold his chin with your index finger, so he looks at you, and you meet his teary eyes. You don't know if it's the thrill of being together again or the whiskey you dropped. Maybe his heart still beats for you, or the cold war between the two of you was already more biological than you thought. The purely sexual element ended as soon as it started. What you had was already something anatomical.

"I've been missing myself for a while," You say, before bringing your lips to his, in a kiss with a taste of future nostalgia.

And so you stayed for a few minutes, but you respected that Javier wasn't sober at all, and left without saying anything else. As if there was no more alcohol in his blood, Javier didn't beg you to stay either. Deep down, he regretted giving in so much.

But he decided he wouldn't be the loser again. Not for a second time.

(...)

At night, in the dark office, Javier drinks water from a whiskey glass to fool his body and keep working. In front of him, looking out the window, Murphy lights a cigarette. He had just arrived to ask for visas.

“You must know it's very important I get out of here. You know what I did, the risks I took.”

“I'm not interested in politics anymore,” Javier says, taking another sip. He makes a funny face when he tastes the water. “The problems of the world are not in my department. I'm a bar owner now.”

“Funny you say that. We all know about your career, how you collaborated with Los Pepes. Then with Don Berna. Now you say that.”

“Los Pepes no longer exists. Berna is dead. What of it?”

"Isn't it strange that you always happened to be fighting on the side of the underdog?" Steve teases him.

“Yes. I found that a very valuable hobby, too.” Javier mocks. “But now I'm trying to be a respectable businessman”.

Steve approaches, burning his cigarette in Peña's ashtray. "Are you enough of a businessman to appreciate an offer of a thousand dollars?"

Javier looks him up and down, understanding his game. "I appreciate it, but I don't accept it."

The blonde put his hands into his pockets, leaning in to intimidate the Latino. "I'll raise it to two thousand."

"My friend, you could make it a million dollars, or three, my answer would still be the same."

"There must be some reason why you won't let me have them."

“There is. I suggest you ask your wife." Javier smiles.

“I beg your pardon?”

"I said, ask your wife."

"My wife?"

"Yes."

Silence hangs in the room. Javier runs his tongue over his teeth, proud. He didn't regret it one bit. He only thought about how you lived a life of truth and elegance, while he collapsed in secret on the transparency of his feelings for you. But when Steve stopped staring out the window and turned to him with a huge disappointment in his eyes, Javier remembered that he hadn't thought about the consequences of stating such a vulgar and bitter truth to one of his best friends.

"I'm not going to pretend I didn't know." He says, running a hand over his blond hair. "But I didn't think you would spit on me like that."

Javier felt bad. He walked around the table and sat down in the big chair, looking for a cigarette to light, but the pack was empty. It would be slutty to ask Steve for one now.

"Tell me, was it the times I was in Medellín?"

Javier doesn't respond.

"Did I really need to go all those times to Medellín?"

Silence.

Steve takes a pack of cigarettes from his jacket, and takes one out, placing it on the table. Javier looks at him, not sure if he should accept. In the past, the blonde would do this for him to put in his ear. The two of them used to laugh when the cigarette got lost in the paperwork.

But now, just silence.

“I'm just asking you one thing.” Steve breaks the silence, leaning over the table. “If you didn't use her, and I have faith you didn't, if out of some love or any feeling you have in there, or just out of a hope that you can fuck her again, give her a visa. You can leave me here, I would die peacefully here in Casablanca. But take her away. Let her enjoy Rio until she forgets about me."

This time, he was the one who spat the words out, leaving Javier alone and with a weight on his heart again. The door slammed just as Javier swallowed and closed his eyes.

Two fates were decided at that moment.

(...)

Steve was reading a newspaper on the little table next to the TV. You pretended to pay attention to the program, but you couldn't. All I could think about was why he had come so quietly after seeing Javier. You finally decided to bring it up:

"Steve, why don't you tell me about Peña? What did you find out?"

"He has the visas. " He said, not looking at you." But no intention of selling them."

You knew it. From the way he looked at you when you left last night, he would curse you.

"Did he give any reason?"

"He suggested I ask you." Shit.

"Ask me?"

"Yes. He said, 'Ask your wife.' I do not know why he said that." Steve said it, folding the newspaper under the coffee table, still not looking at you.

As much as Steve did not fully provide love, he was your safe place, the man that if you woke up beside you knew you would be at peace. He was charming, endearing, and comfortable. Javier was also the first two things, but he was also crazy, toxic, complicated. The difference is that you knew you could survive without them both, but no day without Steve would hurt, it would just be different. On the other hand, each day without Javier would be a death by a thousand cuts.

Would Javier do that? Leave Steve, an old friend, in the crosshairs of Escobar's former partners just out of jealousy, revenge? You knew he wasn't crazy like that, much less so passionate. After hours of thinking about Javier's strategies, as soon as your husband left for a department meeting, you knew what you had to do.

Javier was not passionate, but he was provocative. He wanted you to beg.

That's what you were going to do.

(...)

You went to Casablanca and asked Samuel for Javier's address. It was a little difficult to convince him, but in the end, he gave you the address and a spare key, begging you to let Peña know it wasn't his fault. Now you were sitting in his living room, a house much bigger than La Luna Llena. His scent was infused everywhere.

But you came back into focus when you heard the key turn on the doorknob. Javier entered the room scared, with a gun in his hand, but quickly ducked when he saw you. He slammed the door with a bang and turned to you angrily.

"How did you get in?"

"Samuel. I was very invasive”

“Literally.”

He tosses the suitcase on the table along with the keys and the gun and puts his coat on the chair. You get up, going to him.

"Javi, I had to see you."

“Do you use 'Javi' again? We're back in Colombia.”

“Please” You roll your eyes. "You can ask any price you want, but you must give me those visas."

Javier puts his hands on his hips. "I went through all that with your husband. It's no deal."

"I know how you feel about me, but I'm asking you to put your feelings aside for something more important." You insist.

"Do I have to hear again what a great man your husband is? What an important cause he fought for?"

"It was your cause, too. In your own way, you were fighting for the same thing."

"Yes. But I'm not fighting for anything anymore, except myself. I'm the only cause I'm interested in."

His coldness destroyed you. You couldn't let a past mistake put your husband in danger.

"Javi, we loved each other once. If Those days meant anything at all to you-

"I would not bring up Bogota if I were you. " Javier shouts, interrupting you.

You no longer have any idea what to do to convince him. Every second, Steve goes through your head and you know that if he could not save him, guilt will chase you forever.

"You want to feel sorry for yourself, don't you? With so much at stake, all you can think of is your own feelings. You're a, you're a coward, and a weakling!"

The last words shuffle due to the lump forming in your throat. You feel your body heat up, tears form in the corners of your eyes, but Javier doesn't move. And It hurts a lot more than you expected.

Rejecting you, for what you had done, was one thing. Harming someone you loved out of resentment was torture.

He turns to get a cigarette, and you realize it's the right time to use your last card up your sleeve.

"Now if you-" He stops short as he sees you holding a small revolver in your hand, pointed directly at him.

"All right. I tried to reason with you. I tried everything. Now I want those visas. Get. them. for. me.”

Javier remains unconcerned, which only makes your blood run higher. You feel your hand trembling on the icy metal of the gun. But Javier doesn't move.

“Put them on the table!”

“No."

”For the last time, put them on the table!” You yell.

“If Steve means so much to you, you won't stop at anything.” His voice is choked. He leans closer to you. “All right, I'll make it easier for you."

The tip of the gun touches his chest. You take a startled step back.

"Go ahead and shoot. You'll be doing me a favor.”

The sincerity in his voice takes you apart. The brown eyes glowing in the low street light find you and you know for the thousandth time you'd never have the courage to do what you threatened. Shivering, you put the gun down on the table and vent in messy words and sobs:

"Oh, Javi, I tried to stay away. I thought I would never see you again, that you were out of my life!"

He nods as if he understands you. When you realize it, he was already moving closer. The icy hands find your hips again, and yours touch his chest like that first time. It was a deja vu in a more painful version. Touching him, meeting his gaze, was a torturous time machine.

"If you knew how much I still love you!"

You clutched in his shirt and tears soaked your face. Javier wouldn't let go.

"So why did you leave me? Did you think a letter was enough?” You watch his eyes from tears too, but he swallows hard to get the words he wants. “I had so many questions. What I had done wrong to make you disappear, what I should have done, what I was, what I should have been! You messed me up, you drove me crazy!"

He tries to get out of your arms, but you hold his face. His eyes travel down your face to your mouth, and you smile at the realization, but you know you still have to justify things.

"Don Berna. Don Berna found out.”

Javier stares at you, pupils dilate.

“He told me you knew what you were doing, but that the day Pablo was killed he would find a way to blackmail you into continuing to collaborate with them. He left—" You stutter. "He left a bullet in the hotel, on my side of the pillow. I was the way. I couldn't see you ever again.”

Javier mumbles your name, still in shock. Your hands roam over his biceps, which are trembling just like his entire body.

“You. You loved me…"

"Javier…"

"You left because you loved me."

"Oh, Javi..."

After the revelation, you allow yourselves to indulge in an intense and painful kiss. Javier's tongue was hungry for you, spreading to every corner of your mouth in time with the icy hands running over your body. The wobbly feet tripped over yours, guiding you to the bed.

When you parted for breath, you watched Javier smiling. For the first time. It wasn't a strong smile, but it was sharp and breathless. In his eyes, the turbulence that enchanted you was gone. Inside him, there was only peace.

That's when you knew you were going to make love.

The rain began to fall slowly, like the first time. But this time it was a reunion. Even if you closed your eyes, you could still see every detail of his body.

You dropped your hands over his chest, slowly loosening his tie and unbuttoning his white shirt. Javier just looked at you, let you do everything. When the shirt fell to the floor, you irrationally stuck your lips to his skin.

Javier held tight to the hairs on the back of your neck as you knelt on the bed and brought your lips to his right nipple. You didn't know if he would like that, but when he let out a low moan you knew you had to go on.

"Like that..." He whispers. You ran your tongue over the smooth, now rigid skin, and tasted the woody scent. When you looked down and saw that his dick was already ticking, you smiled over his tanned skin.

His hands walked to the straps of your dress and slowly lowered them, revealing your bra-shaped breasts. His pupils dilated. You smiled, happy to feel wanted again. Happy to feel like a woman again.

Javier took you by the shoulders and guided you until you were laying on your back. His mouth moved to your neck, distributing thoughtful kisses. He was always careful not to leave marks, but not today. The longing was too huge for him to think rationally. And you didn't even care.

Your legs entwined his narrow hips, and you noticed that he had already unbuckled his belt and had his pants on to his knees. His underwear and your pantyhose were between you both, but they only added friction. He kept kissing your neck, collarbone, and shoulders, leaving little wet bites every time he found enough skin to fit between his teeth. His taste pupils seemed to reach his hypodermis.

You felt his swollen cock press against your thigh. When you lifted your leg a little and he moaned, you faced each other, understanding.

He got up to take off his underwear, and you unzipped your dress.

Looking at Javier was like dying and seeing heaven with every blink. You would never get used to the fire that formed between your legs every time you saw that tanned skin, tummy, and pubic hair. And you knew that you would never get used to how wet you always ended up after staring at his large and red cock, dilating for you and you only. The way he looks at you while catching you thirsting over his manly is just… poetry.

But Javier's beautiful look changes. The wrinkles on his forehead appear, as taut as if he were on a mission. When your dress is on the floor and you're only in pantyhose and a bra, he walks his hands across the bed until he's face to face with you. You lean on your elbows to face him.

He stares at you for a few seconds, but his gaze goes back to your hip. Strong hands grip the waistband of the sock that marked your belly, and you lift your lower back to help. His knuckles travel over your skin as he removes your sock, over thighs, knees, and finally ankles. He throws the fabric on the floor and smirks.

“Classy girl…” He walks closer again. He seems so worried. "Are you sure?"

“Javi…”

When you say his name, you notice it oozes from between your legs a little. He notices, and smiles, happy at the effect he still has on you. You watch his cock throb.

“I know what your cunt wants, baby. I see it. I feel it.” He says, involving his cock with his hands. The wrist slowly walks from the base to the head. When he catches your throbbing cunt, a little bit of his pre-cum leaked over the top. "But would your heart beg for me?"

"Everyday." You say while guiding your own hand to your cunt. You open up the space with your index and ring fingers, placing each on the side of each minor lip. You rescue the liquid with your middle one and spread it to your clit. Javier stares at you, his heart-shaped mouth is slightly open and panting. His big hands worked fast into his cock, fucking his own fist. "What about yours?" You say breathlessly, circling your clit.

"I'm not... a lover."

Javier takes his right hand between your legs, and while you work on spiral movements, he places a finger into your entrance. You gasp at the coldness, but he doesn't stop. At the next second, Javier puts two fingers into you, twisting them around you so his digitals can find your sweet spot.

You scream his name, and he screams yours. You both smile and work your both hands at the same rhythm.

“But if you w-were…a lover…” You say between moans. "What would you... say?"

Javier spreads his two fingers inside you, making scissors move, and you roll your hips, fucking yourself into his hand. He almost lays down into the mattress, his weakling biceps from the movements and the climax running down through his body. You see his back muscles flexing, the head of his cock getting bigger and reddish.

“I would say that… my heart aches for you.” He throws his head back, blessing his climax and yours. You can't see anything anymore as you feel the muscles in your body weaken and twitch, your head getting too heavy and being thrown back too. Your body arches, your chest expands, as if you could scream Oh Lord, I love him. I love this man so fucking much. I missed him so fucking much.

And before your ear is covered by white noise, you can hear his rough, uncontrolled voice, scream wild:

“And I missed you so much!”

(...)

You had sex just one more time, amid the rush of the night that insists on ending. Despite the love you shared, the world was still the same, and the earth still turned. Murphy still had to go.

You were lying on your side, being the little spoon. Javier's hand held against your chest, his other arm tucked under your neck. He cupped his face in the crook of your neck, sniffing your hair. His leg was over yours. At your back, his racing, eager heart pounded. The rain was stopping. The few drops of water still trickled down the window's glass.

"Do you think, if we wanted…" Javier started to speak, after a few silent minutes. "Could we have more than that?"

Because your hands were intertwined, your wedding ring scratched part of his fingers. That's what made him think, that if the situation were different, maybe you could take that jewel off and accept him in its entirety.

"Of course. If you were more romantic." You play with him, laughing. Your shoulders shake against his chest.

"I could pretend." Javier continues, "Sometimes."

"What would you do?" You say and turn around, laying your back on the bed. Javier leans his head on his palm to look at you. As he thinks, his index finger circles your collarbone.

"I'd dance with you. Salsa, tango-"

"Bullshit!” You say laughing, but he looks serious.

"I would watch your weird movies."

"Would we go to the beach?" You suggest.

"Better. We would have sex in the sand.”

You get embarrassed and turn on your side too, hiding your face in the pillow.

“I wouldn't cook for you. But every time you came home from work tired, I would make you smile.” You keep going. Javier laughs. "Would you sing for me?"

"Never!" He screams. You both laugh. "But maybe I'd memorize poems and tell you when you were really mad."

“I have a better idea. You would know by heart. A communist.” You challenge him. He arches an eyebrow.

"If you're talking about Neruda, I've already filled this in."

You get up and sit on the bed. Javier rests his hands on his hips.

"Really?"

"I read for work." He justifies it. You see his chest rise and fall, agitated. "If I were a romantic, I would have read and think about you..."

“Javier…”

“En esta historia sólo yo me muero..." He begins. You get closer to him in disbelief. "Y moriré de amor porque te quiero."

[In this story only I die, and I will die of love because I love you]

Your eyes fill with tears so fast, you can barely see him. He's lying there nervously, lips trembling and hand desperately on your waist, fear coursing through his veins that you'll just leave again. As if for one last time, he gently says, as he works to swallow the lump in his throat that insisted on forming:

"Porque te quiero, a sangre y fuego."

[because I love you, dear, to blood and fire]

You throw yourself on his chest, lying down in despair. His scent enters your nose so fast your head aches as if your brain is working fast enough that every bit of him gets memorized. Like a bad song. Like constant déjà vu. Like an old sonnet known by heart.

“Javier, please…” You beg. “Give Steve the flight ticket. Let him go. I will justify. Or rather, I won't say anything else, I'll stay with you!"

Your desperate words were the best music for his ears. But he didn't know what to say. As if in a dream where his body paralyzes and his voice can't get out, Javier only managed to stroke your hair, gently.

(...)

The next day, Murphy hadn't spoken to you anymore, you didn't even know if he had seen how late you arrived. You drove to the airport, everything was normal as usual. You thought you would suffer every second, knowing it would be your last moments with Steve, but your heart has never been so peaceful.

Until you saw Javier.

Standing in a taxi, biting the corner of his mouth. When he sees you, he straightens up and opens his jacket, pulling out some papers.

“Mr. Murphy." He says and hands the ticket to Murphy, who smirks. "Mrs."

Javier tries to hand you the paper, but you refuse to take it. Staring at Steve, you find him smiling.

“Javier…”

“You're getting on that plane.”

You feel your chest splinter like armored glass, shattered but still in place, with each piece hitting harder and harder. Steve's figure disappears over the horizon, towards the plane.

“No, Javi, no. What has happened to you? Last night we said-”

“Last night we said a great many things. You're getting on that plane with Steve where you belong.” He interrupts you without making eye contact.

“Javier, please don't…” You walk up to him, and you don't care about Steve either. Your hands, fisted, hit his chest with what little strength you had. He holds onto your shoulders so you don't fall and you look him in the eye.

“If that plane leaves the ground and you're not with him, you'll regret it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of your life.”

The words were firm and assertive as if he had already planned. There was no coldness, but no great emotion either. The tears that formed at the corners of his eyes were sour. Yours, in an unbearable saltiness, reached your chin in desperation you barely noticed.

"But what about us?"

“We'll always have Bogota.” His hands caressed your back one last time. "We got it back last night." Finally, Javier laughs. A shy smile, not enough to show teeth, but one you'd recognize anywhere.

In a less desperate moment, you wrap your hands around his broad shoulders and lean your face against his velvet suit. In a strong sigh, you breathe in his perfect woody scent, that mixture of cinnamon, whiskey, and cigarette, blended with your own tears.

"And I said I would never leave you."

"And you never will." Javi leans his cheek against your hair and says in a choked voice: “But here's the truth, I can be a lover. What...what I can't be the husband you need in this crazy, awful world. Someday you'll understand that.”

He breaks the hug until you can face him. Javier brings his forefinger up to your chin, wiping away the tear standing there. Lifting your face until you meet his wet brown eyes, he whispers, "I love you, but you're not mine."

"Ready baby?" Steve yells, some distance away.

"You better hurry, or you'll miss that plane!" Javi says comfortably, in a smile that you know is just to comfort you. The words get lost on your tongue the instant you turn to walk toward Steve.

At that moment, there is a tense encounter between the present and the past, between the two versions that each of them knew, between the “classy girl” and the “baby”. But there was a part of you, which was more than the combination of the two men, it was who you found every morning as soon as you opened your eyes. And deep down, despite a broken heart and countless tears that drowned your rationalism, you knew that in that piece of yours, there was a choice.

In just one step, you decided that your future wouldn't be all about nostalgia. Between the red of intense flashbacks and the gray of a comfortable boredom, you turned to the light you encountered yesterday as synaesthesia. Where the beauty of mingling between sour, bittersweet, and sweet itself was the only possible choice.

He smiled with a cigarette between his lips. He placed his hands on his hips and looked you up and down.

Between smiles and tangled teeth, you chose him as an old-Hollywood kiss.

-------

thank you so much for reading! ATGB was a life-changing work and I'm very proud of it!

thanks to Luna and Ester specifically, for beta reading and the endless support.

you can check out my other works here. I have some drabbles and a Din AU. hope it entertains you as much as this one did (i hope it did lol)

taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @la-lunaluna @raresciences @lokimischixf @hansolotr @lukanasky @voteforpedro09 @lafresamilk @beskarboobs

[jeonggukkiepabo]

CRYSTAL SNOW ❄ MYG

SUMMARY: Christmas has always been a stressful time for Yoongi: buying presents, decorating the tree, baking cookies, you name it-Yoongi does it. It wouldn't be so difficult if Yoongi had someone to help him, but all he has left in his life is his beautiful daughter Ara.But maybe this year, he won't be all alone.

GENRE: christmas fluff  ❄ a bit of smut

WORD COUNT: 7,3k

WARNINGS: f l u f f, single parent yoongi, kindergarten teacher y/n, oral, satoori, domestic christmas vibes :(, mentions of death

AUTHOR’S NOTE: the secret collab is finally here! thanks @kimtaehyunq​ for letting me join💞 i’m so excited to read the other fics as well! & thank you Mags for doing this amazing banner I think this is the prettiest banner I've ever had. 🤧 Tysm love💞

MERRY CHRISTMAS

People usually say she looks a lot like her father, but all Yoongi sees in Ara is his wife. Wherever his daughter goes, his wife's ghost follows, the memory of his teenage love and the wonderful years they spent together until she left their lives.

Min Dasom died almost one year after Ara was born, her death coming too sudden for anyone to bid their last goodbyes-leaving her husband and baby heartbroken and alone.

It was awful, Yoongi won't be able to forget that one night the police called him, telling him that his precious wife drowned in the ocean during her monthly trip to the beach with her friends. 

Ever since that call, Yoongi has never stepped near a beach again, never felt hot sand between his toes again, never went swimming again.

It was hard, being a single parent and Yoongi was tempted to give up many times, but seeing Ara grow and bloom into the beautiful girl she is now, Yoongi is beyond thankful that he survived the pain and sorrow.  

He never drowned his thoughts in alcohol because his sunshine always looked at him with her sad little eyes, almost as if she knew what he wanted to do and hugged his legs tightly until Yoongi set the bottle away and picked Ara up and spent the night cuddling her.

Things got easier as soon as Ara was old enough to finally go to kindergarten, allowing Yoongi to work more hours and on a daily basis again. It's not like he needed a lot of money, it's just that Yoongi needs to work. 

He's used to working all the time, he's always been-because working doesn't give him time to think about the tragedy that is his life.

Money wasn't an issue for the Min family, Yoongi used to be one of the most successful pianists and producers in South Korea, but he gave up on that as soon as Ara was born, just to have time for his family.

His friend Hyunjin offered him a job as a songwriter and composer at his own label JinHit Entertainment. 

Yoongi could work from home whenever he wanted and needed to, but the studio Hyunjin set him up was way better and filled with new technology that Yoongi loved playing and experimenting with.

The acclimatization to her new daily routine wasn't easy for Ara because she wasn't used to having women in her life-until now, it has always been Yoongi and Ara. They ended up switching kindergarten two times before Ara came into the one that you've been working at for a while now-instantly falling in love with you.

The first few days with your new reference child we're quite… interesting because the little girl was full of action and so curious about every little thing in the room that you couldn't sit still and talk to her father for a while because Ara grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the next game she wanted to play.

Her father, Min Yoongi, sent you an apologetic smile as he watched you play with his daughter from a distance, giving you time to get used to each other and build a bond. You winked at him as you took a seat next to Ara and started to explain the rules of the board game to her-impressed about how well she was understanding them.

It didn't take Ara a long time to send Yoongi home, waving him goodbye and pressing a loud kiss onto his lips. "Go and work, Appa! Uncle Hyunjinnie waits for you to make good music!"

Yoongi looked at her with a pout, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're telling me to leave? Just to go and work? That is rude, princess."

You giggled and hugged Ara as she ran over to you, Yoongi long forgotten.

"Would you like to bring your dad to the door, Ara? I think he might be sad if you won't. Remember: he won’t see you for a few hours and you don’t want your dad to be sad during lunch, right?"

Ara giggled but nodded nonetheless and grabbed Yoongi by the hand. "Hurry!"

Yoongi looked at you in shock, desperately trying to hold in his laugh. "I think you gave me Ara's evil twin instead of my sweet little princess! Where is my nice girl that always kisses Appa goodbye?"

You shrugged your shoulders playfully as one of the other kids asked for you to help him with building a big tower out of building blocks. "Have a nice day, Mr Min. Oh and make sure you won't forget about our appointment on Thursday! I don't think it'll take longer than an hour, it's just to talk about Ara's development so far."

Yoongi was one of the few parents that were always punctual, not even a minute too late-and the only parent you've never felt any kind of rage towards. Not only that, but he attended every kindergarten fest, always prepared little cupcakes for Ara's birthday to bring with her to kindergarten and share with her friends.

May was rolling around quickly and you were as eager as always to craft some little gifts for the children to give their mothers. 

You prepared some candle wax and melted it so the kids could fill it in plastic forms and add glitter and scent to their preference, just to have a nice little gift to give. 

Most of the kids had fun, some of them were a bit grumpy because they got glitter all over themselves, but there is one little girl pouting and trying not to cry in front of them, not even touching the wax.

Ara.

It breaks your heart every time, knowing that Ara's mother died years ago and that she probably had no other woman in her life because you’ve already heard that her father works quite a lot. 

Squatting down next to the little girl, you gently pinch her stomach just to hear her little giggles. 

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Don't you want to make a nice candle?"

Ara looks up at you, one single tear slipping out of her eye. "I don't have a mom, so no candle for me."

You coo, playing with Ara's hair as you stand up again, leading her towards the crafting table.

"That doesn't matter, Ara. I think your dad will be happy to get a candle too! We can pick a different color than pink, what do you think does he like the most? I’m sure we will find something!"

Ara taps her chin, smiling slightly as she thinks about Yoongi's favorite color. "Black! He wears black clothes! Always! Do we have black glitter, Y/N?" 

She scrunches her nose at the first few oils, but one scent really lights up her face. "This smells like Appa! Can we use this?" 

"We do, I didn't put it on the table because usually nobody wants it so it sits on the shelf, all by itself. I think the glitter finally deserves to be used!" You smile at the kid, grabbing the small container of glitter from the shelf and handing it over to Ara.

"We do have a few scents, would you like to smell them? Choose whichever you think smells the best and we can put a few drops in the wax,' you offer the bowl of different oils to Ara and help her open the lids.

Ara holds up the little bottle of rose oil and you smile to yourself. Black roses, that really seems to fit the impression you have of Mr. Min.

"Of course. Now, let's mix the glitter with the wax and we can put it into the mold. Alright, now stir it while i put in a few drops of the rose oil, okay?"

You guide her through the process, talking to her and listening to her rambling about the piano lessons Mr. Min gives her on a regular basis, just because Ara wants to be like her favorite man in the world.

"He is a great dad, Ara. You're so lucky to have him, I know that he must be sad sometimes too, but you're such a sunshine and help him as much as he helps you," you hug her from the side, enjoying the way Ara leans into the hug as well.

"I want a mom, but Appa is almost like a mom! He lets me paint his nails, goes to ballet with me and always bakes princess cookies for our tea parties!"

Ara giggles as she dips the wick into the liquid wax.

"Appa needs a woman to love, the only dates he goes to are work-dates with uncle Hyunjin," she says.

And yes, you think so as well.

One day around September, you decide that it’s definitely hot enough to prepare the blow-up outside pool for the kids, allowing them to change into their swimsuits and let them play around, even adding some bubbles to the water to let them experiment.

Mr. Min smiles at you, his gums fully showing and you can’t help but smile as well as you hear his words.

“And I think there’s no job that you could do better than this one.”

You’re sitting next to the pool on a bench in the shadow, reading some books to those few kids that don’t want to hop into the water as Ara jumps out of the pool.

“Y/N, come inside as well, it’s so nice!” She jumps up and down, her wet ponytail dripping onto her shoulders.

You pout, pointing to the kids next to you. “I can’t, you know that some of the kids are still afraid to go into the water with so many other children around. Maybe next time. Now, go and enjoy it, it’s super hot and I don’t know when autumn will come around and surprise us with bad weather!”

Ara nods quickly, hopping back into the water and continues splashing some water around with her friends, but she glances at you every few seconds. Then, she whispers with her two best friends before all three of them nod as they look at you.

Suddenly, they run towards you, surprising you with wet hugs and loud giggles, leaving your white summer dress almost see through.

Suddenly, there’s someone clearing his throat right behind you and you wish you could sink deep down into the pool once you see that it’s Mr. Min. 

“Girls!,” you can’t help but yelp, the cold water causing you to jump up from the bench. Yet, you laugh with them, the cooling really helping you with the heat.

“You can’t just do that, Ara. Look at my dress now, you can almost see through it, you’re lucky that the parents won’t come in within the next two hours, otherwise they would see me like this,” you try to look stern, but to be honest: you would have done the same if you were Ara.

“Ara, why did you do that?,” he asks with his calm voice and tries his best not to look at your hardening nipples under the dress. 

Ara’s bottom lip trembles as she looks at you with sad eyes. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just thought it would be funny…”

Mr. Min turns to you and bows slightly. “I’m sorry, she shouldn’t have done that. And well, I came to pick her up earlier because we will visit her grandparents over the weekend. I should’ve informed you earlier. Is there any way I can help you with your… erm, dress?”

Mr. Min nods at you, picking up his-still wet-daughter as he looks you up and down slow enough to leave goosebumps all over your skin once again. 

You blush, shaking your head as you grab Ara’s clothes and hand her to her father.

“It’s alright, Mr. Min, it’s not your fault-and a water fight is too much fun to just not do it, right, Ara? It’s sunny enough so I’ll just bring the bench into the sun and I’ll be dry soon enough! I hope you’re having fun with your grandparents, Ara! Have a nice weekend, Mr. Min.”

“It’s alright, Mr. Min, really. You don’t know how many children happen to call one of us mom without realizing it. It’s nothing too wild, I’ve gotten used to it and I think especially in Ara’s case… It was supposed to happen, you know? I mean, I don’t want to intrude on your private life, but I suppose you’re not seeing another person and Ara isn’t growing up with other females, so she takes those she sees here as a female person to bond with, you know?”

“Thank you, mommy! Oh… I mean Y/N..,” Ara quirps as he turns around in her father’s arms, even though it doesn’t look like she’s really sorry at all.

“Ara!” Mr. Min gasps as he looks at his daughter. 

Yoongi shakes his head. “I haven’t seen another woman ever since my wife died. Ara is the only woman in my life, the only one I give all my love to. She deserves it,” he sighs. “But you’re right, I think another female person would really help her with growing up. I just don’t want to introduce her to some random woman I might not even want to spend the rest of my life with. Is this egoistic?”

His honest words hit you, knowing how lonely he must be, all alone with his little girl and a bunch of work he has to do. “It’s not, Mr. Min. You don’t have to date just because you think it would be the best for Ara. There are many single fathers that raise their kids perfectly fine and I think you’re one of them! Ara never tells bad stories about you and I think you’re doing a really good job, spending all of your free time with her and allowing her to experience so many fun things. I’ve met so many ‘happy’ families that didn’t even manage to pack breakfast for their kids, so really, don’t break your head over something like this! I’m happy that Ara accepted me so much and that she always comes to me whenever she has a problem. This is why I chose my job.”

Over the next few months, Mr. Min is all that’s on your mind, even though you know how unprofessional it is, but he’s even kinder to you than he’s been before. You usually have a small chat with every parent whenever they bring or pick up their children, but Mr. Min makes sure to always catch you and ask you about your day, if there’s anything new in your life and you can’t help but ask him about his work and the songs he’s been working on as well.

“Ah, it’s really stressful right now. I’m working with this band that’s debuting soon and we have to prepare and finish the entire album I wrote about five songs for. They’re really good but still so young, I think the oldest is 16? Or was it 17? Whatever, that’s like ten years younger than me! I think I’ll grow grey hair soon when I keep on working with such young idols,” he sighs playfully as he helps Ara to put on her shoes and jacket. 

“I mean, you’re not that old, Mr. Min. Don’t worry-as long as you keep that handful smile you will look like you’re straight out of some perfume poster. But I’d love to listen to one of your songs! I mean, if you’d let me,” you smile with honesty as you hand Ara her backpack. 

Mr. Min shrugs, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he opens his Spotify account. He types something in and turns the screen towards you. AGUST D, it says. You scrunch your eyes at the name, trying to remember where you’ve known it from, but it doesn’t ring a bell right now. 

“I’ll make sure to listen to some of your songs, I hope they aren’t too sad though, I prefer my music to be more… pop and rock?”

You cringe at your own words, hoping that the man knows what you were trying to say. 

And fuck, you did like it. Turns out that AGUST D wasn’t some softie that plays guitar lullabies, no. 

Yoongi cracks a grin, then winks at you playfull before he takes Ara’s hand after she said goodbye to you.

“I think you’re going to like it.”

AGUST D seems to be one of the best rappers in the music industry that you’ve ever been listening to. He sounds so aggressive and fast that you needed to listen twice to some of his songs to understand what he was saying, but you ended up adding much more songs into your playlist than you’d like to tell him.

But you did tell him.

“Oh, I’m not doing that crazy rap thing anymore. It was a phase, I guess. By now, I use the name to help smaller musicians and trainees, produce their songs and write their lyrics. It’s better to do so with a bigger name, but AGUST D died a long time ago, I guess I killed him.” Mr. Min says the next day.

"I mean, as long as you keep all of them on Spotify, I'm alright with that. Most of those songs match my aggressive driving vibe and I can't imagine driving to work without it." You try to joke before you realize what it must've sounded like. "Oh lord, I didn't mean it like that!" 

You blush, trying to hide your reddened cheeks in your palms, but Mr. Min just laughs it off.

"Don't worry, I get what you mean. I usually play Love Talk as soon as i leave this building."

He even has the audacity to wink at you before he leaves with a grin, causing Ara to coo.

"Appa really likes you if he teases you!"

And the teasing goes on and on, there’s almost no day without a snarky comment from Mr. Min or a sarcastic comment from you-but neither of you takes those words to heart because that’s what you need in your lives, someone to laugh with, someone to make jokes with.

Even though there are plenty of other children in your group and so many parents you talk to daily, the only one you’re happy to see in the afternoon is Mr. Min.

The summer is long gone and fall said goodbye a few weeks ago, December came around and your little crush on Mr. Min isn’t as little anymore-and you can’t help yourself but wonder if he might be into you as well. You’ve shared a few noons talking about Ara’s development and if she’s ready for school next September, but most of the times you didn’t talk about the girl for more than thirty minutes before one of you switched the topic to something more private as the man leans closer to you and locks his gaze with yours.

You’re not as nervous around him as you were before and you can feel him starting to open up towards you as well. Yet, you’ve never met outside of the kindergarten, knowing it would be way too unprofessional and you’d never want to ruin the wonderful bond you share with Ara just because you’re desperate to jump into her father’s lap and call him Daddy too.

You’re not one of those women to go into a club and have a dirty one night stand with a random stranger, but you’ve been too busy to actually go and meet people, so you’ve kind of gotten used to being alone, even though you’re really missing late night cuddles and Disney marathons.

It’s Saturday afternoon and you’ve been strolling through the mall for a while now, looking for some christmas presents for your friends and family-but also wanting to treat yourself because work has been more than just exhausting lately.

You’ve been handling the entire group alone, having a lot more smaller children because new kids have been coming to kindergarten and having to deal with so many parents alone can be pure hell. Sadly enough you’re living all by yourself, only having a few close friends that don’t understand why you’re even doing this underpaid job and your last relationship crashed almost two years ago.

The mall looks amazing, beautiful christmas ornaments are hanging from the ceiling and there must be someone playing the piano somewhere because the soft melodic tunes fill the entire mall, reminding you of Mr. Min once again.

You just stepped out of a lingerie store, something you’re really passionate about even though nobody but yourself sees you in it, but you love the feeling of lace on your skin, love how beautifully the soft colors compliment your skin and love imagining Mr. Min ripping the soft material off you.

The small paper bag in your hand, you look around for another shop that might hold the next christmas present for one of your friends. 

“Appa, please! I already have a picture but we need you to have one too!”

You know that voice too well to ignore it, searching the area for the small owner of it, giggling as you found her. Ara and Mr. Min are in the Santa area of the mall that gives you the ability to sit on Santa’s lap and take a picture with him as you tell him your biggest christmas wishes.

But the little girl is not sitting on Santa’s lap, she’s trying to push her father towards the man with the fake beard, clearly wanting him to sit down on that lap.

You giggle, walking towards them just to find out what’s going to happen.

“Ara, I’m too old and heavy for poor Santa, I think he prefers girls your age-wait, no not like that. I think he likes boys and girls-ugh. You’re driving me crazy, princess. Look, there’s a few other kids wanting to have their time with Santa as well, why don’t we just leave and try to find some more presents from the giftshop here, hm?” The man tries to talk his daughter into leaving the uncomfortable situation, but Ara is as stubborn as ever-she always gets what she wants, especially from her father.

“But… I want you to have pictures with Santa too!” She pouts, looking over at the confused Santa before she hears your giggle. “Y/N!”

Mr. Min turns around, a shocked expression on his face and a soft pink tint on his cheeks.

“Oh, Ms. Y/L/N. What a surprise.”

You giggle even more, stepping closer towards them. “Hello Ara, good afternoon Mr. Min,” you bow slightly before accepting the little girl’s hug. 

“I see, you really want to sit on Santa’s lap, but Ara doesn’t want to let you because she’d be embarrassed.” 

Yoongi hums in agreement. “Horrible, those children. I mean, I just want a nice christmas picture with Santa, but you know how they are… right before puberty hits them.”

“Y/N, Appa doesn’t want to take a picture with Santa, would you sit on his lap and take a picture for me?” Ara looks up at you with her big eyes and like always, you can’t say no. Instead, you hand Mr. Min your bags-not thinking about the fact that one of them is from the lingerie store-before taking Ara’s hand and walking over to the smiling Santa.

The picture is quickly taken and not even five minutes later, Mr. Min hands you your bags, whispering, so Ara wouldn’t hear you. “I think the peach one will suit you the best.”

Ara nods and rips the bags out of Mr. Min’s hands to show you her cute dresses and bows while the man just stares at you with an open mouth. Did you really just say that to him? 

You gasp, hiding the bags behind your back but who are you to deny the fact that this man is the exact reason you stepped into the store?

“Thank you, I hope someone will get to see them before Christmas. It would be a shame to waste those pretty pieces for some lame mirror selfies,” you smile innocently before squatting down next to Ara. “Did you buy something nice yet?”

“Appa, we wanted to get hot chocolate, can Y/N come too please?”

Yoongi is speechless once more as he quietly follows his daughter and her kindergarten teacher towards the mall’s cafe-realizing that he shouldn’t have chosen his tightest pair of skinny jeans because somehow, they got quite uncomfortable as soon as you arrived.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at his daughter before he picks up all the dresses that Ara tried to shove back into the bags. “If she wants, she’s welcome to join, but I think you should ask her first, maybe she is busy.”

You blush at the invitation, not sure whether to accept it or not-but you’re not one to decline on hot chocolate. Smiling at Ara, you nod. “Show me where to get the best hot chocolate, I’m craving something sweet and thick down my throat.”

He watches you as Ara grabs your hand and swings them around with a soft giggle, heart warming as he sees your fond smile.

Ara talks about you a lot-hell, Yoongi asks about you a lot whenever Ara doesn't want to talk about you but watch her favorite show.

It's unprofessional and probably not allowed, Yoongi knows, but Ara leaves for school in March anyways, so who cares? 

It's obvious to the both of you that you're interested in each other, the flirting and teasing coming to a point where Yoongi can't wait for another snarky remark of yours.

And now that he has the chance to sit and talk with you outside of your workplace, you just chose to buy a bag full of fucking beautiful lingerie (yes, Yoongi looked inside, no, he doesn't regret it).

Ara leads you into this beautiful cat cafe that apparently has "The best hot chocolate and bubble tea, but it's too cold for bubble tea… Can they make hot bubble tea?" as Ara says, earning a harsh "no" from Yoongi, because that's something he wishes for as well.

"Go find a place with Mr. Y/L/N, Ara. I'll get your order, yeah? What can I order for you?" Yoongi looks at you as he pulls out his wallet, giving you some time to read the menu.

"Oh, the candy cane hot chocolate, please! And please, as long as we are not talking inside the kindergarten, call me Y/N. I mean, you've seen my underwear, I think you deserve to call me by my name."

Yoongi blushes, nodding and rushes towards the cashier to order your drinks. You smile at the man, then at the cats-they look somewhat similar-before you sit down next to Ara who is currently petting four cats on her lap.

"They're adorable," you coo, "Do you have any pets?"

Ara nods with a big smile and hands you one of the cats, a pretty one with orange fur and big eyes. 

"I have a turtle! Gukkie gave it to me and Appa didn't like it first, but I love her!"

You enjoy the cat's purring as you gently stroke her chin. "A turtle sounds lovely, I hope you can show it to me one day."

"Oh, that won't be a problem, I can invite you for dinner and Appa will get shy and red in the face, but he wouldn't say no because he's super soft for-" "ALPACAS! I'm soft for alpacas, haha, here we go, three hot chocolates."

Yoongi appears with a pained expression as he places your hot chocolate right in front of you.

"Thanks, Yoongi," you smile at the man and Yoongi swears that his heart stopped beating for a second. "I'm soft for Alpacas as well."

Right after you all finished your drinks, Ara decides that it’s time to walk through the mall once more, just to make sure that Santa is still there and will take another picture with hot chocolate-filled Ara. 

“Did you enjoy your date with Y/N, Appa?” She looks up at her father as you walk towards the mall. Yoongi trembles, blushing brightly. “I’m pretty sure this wasn’t a date, Ara. Don’t assume things like this, it’s rude,” he mumbles as he gently pets her head to make sure she isn’t hurt by his comment.

You giggle, whispering loud enough for Yoongi to hear. “I really liked it, Ara. Your Appa can be funny if he wants to.”

The picture with Santa comes out pretty, even though the man groaned as two grown adults decided to sit on each of his legs, the bright smiling Ara kneeling in front of them. But it’s really worth it, because Yoongi’s smile never leaves his lips this evening, gums showing beautifully on the picture and you quickly make sure to get a copy of that picture as well.

Yoongi’s eyes widen. “So was this a… you know?” It’s endearing, how shy he suddenly seems to be. You’ve never seen him like this. Stressed, overworked and happy - yes. Shy and blushing? Never.

You nod with a soft smile as you lay your hand on his shoulder.

“Yes, I’d like that to be a ‘you know what’, Yoongi.”

You can't even tell when the two of you officially started dating, but you'll never forget the first kiss you've shared during one of your walks-thanks to Ara for snapping a picture of it. Yoongi's hands wrapped around your waist, eyes clenched shut and lips curled in a soft smile as fresh snow fell down on you.

Seeing Yoongi at work wasn’t as weird as you had expected it to be, it’s quite the opposite. He’s attentive and lovely, bringing you fresh croissants or donuts every morning or puting little chocolate for you and Ara in his daughter’s lunchbox.

He’s caring, picking you up after your shift to invite you to dinners and walks through the forest with Ara, because that little girl just loves walking in the fresh snow that has started to fall recently. She takes pictures of your footprints with Yoongi’s phone and makes him promise to print it for her to hang up.

“Of course I can, Ara. You’re already wearing your sleeping clothes and you’ve brushed your teeth with Appa, so hurry up and pick out the book you want me to read!” 

Ara grows closer and closer to you, until that one day where you stay over the Min’s house for dinner, she asks you to bring her to bed.

“Can she, Appa? I want her to read my favorite bedtime story to me! Please, Y/N,” Ara looks up at you with a pout, her beautiful eyes-that remind you of Yoongi-sparkling with admiration. 

That girl really makes your heart melt, combined with the soft smile that Yoongi gives you. And suddenly, you feel like you’re meant to be here, helping that man that you’ve grown so close to, helping the girl that lost her mother way too early and maybe even helping yourself with accepting that love really comes unexpectedly.

You gently tuck the soft blanket over Ara and place her favorite stuffie next to her as you smile at the girl fondly. "Sleep well, Ara," you whisper quietly, trying not to wake her up.

"Kissies, please," she mumbles sleepily and makes grabby hands towards you.

"Ara, I-" "Please," she whines and opens her eyes, tears starting to build up.

"Okay, it's okay, Ara." You swipe her hair out of her face before you plant a soft little kiss onto the girl's forehead. "Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night, Y/N. Will you be there tomorrow morning?"

Your smile fades, unsure if you really want to tell the little girl the truth. 

"Probably not, I have to get ready for work. You know that I love to wear dresses on Thursdays and I didn't bring mine. But we will see each other in the kindergarten!"

"Okay," she whispers before she falls back into a quiet slumber.

Yoongi has cleaned the kitchen in the meantime and poured more wine for the both of you to enjoy in front of the fireplace.

"She really adores you," he says as you sit down next to him, sipping the rosé Yoongi bought just for you.

"And I adore her. She's an angel. Thank you for allowing me to spend so much time with her, Yoon."

Yoongi blushes again, shaking his head. The greyish blonde hair got messier as the evening passed. "No, Y/N. You're the first mother-figure Ara has, I have to thank you in both mine and Ara's name. I know that dating a single father is a lot, but you're accepting my family so well… I never thought I'd find another woman in my life again. Ever since my wife died, it was hard for me to even look at other women, let alone build up something like a relationship with them because I always felt bad. But that's what she would have wanted for me. To love again, to not waste my last handsome days," his lips curl into a smirk before he shakes again. 

Then, his sharp eyes met yours and soften within seconds. 

"I… I don't know if it's the right time, we've known each other for two years, we've been officially dating for only three weeks, but I think I won't change my mind about it-no I know that I won't change my mind. I love you, Y/N. And I know that Ara loves you too."

You gasp, lips beginning to tremble once your eyes meet Yoongi's. "Yoongi…," you whisper before you place your glass on the table and basically jump onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

"I wanted to be the one to tell you first. I love you so much, Yoongi. I've had this stupid crush on you ever since you saw me in that wet dress, ever since you've shown me your music. Ever since I've seen you being the wonderful father you are-and that's so sexy, you can't even imagine."

Yoongi smirks as his hands find their place on the curve of your ass. "Sexy, huh? Me, doing the laundry and cooking dinner? Or me walking Ara to kindergarten with the homemade lunch boxes? That turns you on?"

You laugh, hiding your face in his neck as you lean closer to press your lips against his ear.

"All of that-and the way that you love Ara with all your heart, that's maybe the sexiest thing about you."

The man groans as he grabs you even tighter. "I never thought that sweet talk would turn me on even more than dirty talk," he laughs shakily as he wiggles his hips slightly to get into a more comfortable position that won't suffocate his hardening erection.

You sigh, sit up and run your hands through his hair. "Isn't all of this too early? I always tell myself that I shouldn't fall so fast, but here I am, ready to go every step with you."

Yoongi nods before he presses a peck on your nose. "Same, but we have all the time on earth. Ara wants us to get married by tomorrow, but I'm sure she'll survive it if we decide to postpone it for a few weeks."

You giggle as you look over your shoulder to the fireplace. "Did someone ever suck you off in front of a fireplace? Isn't this the definition of Christmas?"

The man underneath you gasps in shock. "No, but… I mean, I… You don't… have to?"

Laughing, you slide out of his lap and onto the floor, thankful for the soft carpet. "I want to, bubs. I wouldn't do something either of us isn't comfortable with. I assume you're alright with it?"

"Of course, but… I guess nobody ever did it because they wanted to, but because they feel like they had to?"

You raise an eyebrow at him, obviously disappointed in his previous partners. 

"It's as much fun and pleasure for me as it is for you, believe me, Yoon. Now lay back and enjoy, yeah?" You give him a calming smile as you open his pants carefully, then sliding them down his toned legs.

You press kisses all around his thighs to warm him up to the feeling, knowing that it has to be overwhelming to have some that close after all that time. Then, you gently remove his boxer shorts as well, leaving him bare and proud in front of you.

You groan as you start to stroke his cock, earning a low growl from Yoongi. "So beautiful," you whisper, then you take him into your mouth, getting a feeling for the weight on your tongue before you start bopping your head. 

Yoongi tries to contain himself, knowing that Ara could wake up every second, but alone the sight in front of him could make him come with a scream.

Instead, he cups your cheek, feeling the bulge that he causes there. Another groan leaves his lips. 

You look up at him, smirking-or trying to, with a mouth full of cock-and leading his hand into your hair, using it to push you down even more.

Yoongi's eyes lighten up. "Really?"

You almost laugh out, but you're doing your best to contain yourself and nod, placing your hands on his thighs to stop whenever you can't take it anymore. Yoongi is long and thicker than the average you've had before, but it's a challenge that's worth it.

He pushes you down slowly, enjoying the hot warmth of your mouth and then your throat as he pushes in-surprised that you didn't really gag around him.

Spit trickles down your chin as he moves faster, thrusting his hips to meet the movements of his hand and enjoying the gurgling sounds you make.

He comes far to quick for his own liking, shooting his load down your throat with a quiet groan. "Fuck."

You giggle as you swallow what he gives you, standing up to sit back on his lap to kiss him.

"You're welcome." 

Then, before you can grab your wine again, he flips you around and goes on his knees in front of you. "My turn," he smirks, eyes shining dangerously behind his fringe. 

"Yoongi, I-," you try to say, but he shushes you with a sloppy kiss.

"I know that I have to, but believe me: I love giving pleasure more than receiving it."

You pout, hands running through his soft hair.

"I didn't shave…," you whisper, a bit ashamed because you didn't come prepared, not thinking that this would be happening today.

The man in front of you raises an eyebrow.

"Do you think I am a 15 year old, pre puberty fuckboy that cares about shaved pussies? It's natural, love. Even if you can't believe it: I grow hair too, nobody is freshly shaved every day. I don't mind that, okay? Now, stop pouting and let me do my work, will you? Can you be a good girl and do that for me? All you've got to do is lean back, open your legs, throw them around my shoulders and let me devour you."

His shameless words turn you on, you can't even deny it-especially not when your panties are that damp. So, you naturally obey and help him to remove your pants.

"I told you, peach is your color," Yoongi groans in his deep Satoori as he looks at your clothed core. The peach colored lace has darkened from your arousal and the man can't help it but press his face against the material, licking one bold stripe over it.

Nobody has ever done that to you, rather pulled them off in a hurry because they thought that body fluids were disgusting, but Yoongi didn't seem to mind as he gently bites your folds through the lace. 

"God," you moan in pleasure as Yoongi finally pulls your panties to the side and spits onto your pussy, making it even wetter.

You're a whimpering mess as soon as Yoongi's tongue is on you, flicking and playing with your clit, collecting your juices and spreading them all over your pussy. You've read about that before; men eating pussy like they're starving, but Yoongi is somewhat different.

He eats pussy like he wants you to always remind it, to make you obedient and never being able to enjoy anyone else doing that job.

He does it well-of course. His tongue is as fast as he's been spitting rhymes on his mixtape, and you're more than thankful for that.

He doesn't even get to use his fingers before your orgasm approaches you, strong waves of pleasure hitting you as Yoongi keeps on kissing and slowly licking you through your high.

Then, he grins at you. "Round two, here we go."

And this time, it's not only his tongue working wonders, but also his fingers stroking you on the inside until they found your spot. 

You press your hands on your mouth to keep yourself from screaming out loud, hips bucking wildly as you come for a second time within less than ten minutes. And again, Yoongi guides you through it and softly caresses your stomach.

"Fuck, I love you," you pant as he comes back up and steals a kiss from you.

"I can't wait to have you in my bed properly," he whispers and takes a large sip from his wine. 

You can only agree.

You've started to spend the nights at Yoongi's more often, bringing Ara to work with you and helping Yoongi with her and the household whenever you can. Your relationship blooms beautifully and Ara is the happiest little bean when you're around.

Obviously, you spent Christmas with Yoongi and Ara as well, buying little presents and enjoying the comfortable atmosphere with the family.

Yoongi gave you a spare key to his house, so you're always able to visit them, spending the nights there and soon enough, you moved in.

❄❄❄❄

The Christmas after that, you surprised Ara with the adoption papers, telling her that now that she's in school and not one of your kindergarten kids anymore, she'll be able to finally call you Mommy (not that Ara minded before, you just felt weird and guilty about it).

And here you are now, preparing the huge breakfast for your third Christmas around, smiling at the ring that adorns your finger. 

"Smells fabulous, Mama," Ara says as she runs towards you and falls into your arms.

"Do you want me to help you with dessert, Mrs Min?" Yoongi asks as he presses a kiss onto your cheeks. You lean into his touch, shaking your head. "It's almost done. You can go into the living room, I'll be there in a minute to open our presents, bubs."

Yoongi prepares the fireplace, lightens some candles with Ara and lets his daughter hand out the presents. 

"I have one more for you, Yoon," you whisper as you hand him a small box.

"Oh? Can I open this first?" He tilts his head curiously, shaking the light box.

"Open!" Ara squeaks and sits down between her father and you. You nod with a fond smile as Yoongi lifts the top. Then, silence.

"Really?" He whispers with teary eyes.

"Yes, finally," you smile, "Ara, you'll become a big sister!"

Yoongi sniffs, hugging his family tight.

"And she'll be the best sister in the world. Merry Christmas, loves."

[miraculous-trinity-leo]

Tᕼᗴ ᑕᕼᗩOTIᑕ ᗩᑎᘜᗴᒪ

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6)

Chapter 5: Don't Jinx It!

·•·—–·•†•·–—·•·

Chloé Bourgeois... A girl that can be described in many words

"She's absolutely ridiculous! I can't believe you have to do an art project with her of all people!" - Alix sprawled out on Marinette's balcony

"She can't be that bad, besides we might become friends." - Marinette sketching some designs

"Believe me, even I think she's a bit much... She's snobby, annoying, rude, immature, spoiled, she basically has the “I'm better than thow” attitude to a T."- Kagami sitting next to the flowerbed while reading a literature book

"See? Even Kagami agrees... Just don't talk to her, actually don't even move if you're in her sights. She's like a T-Rex, she can't see you if you don't move." - Alix

… … … … …

"Hello, I'm Marinette, it's nice to meet you." - Marinette reached out her hand as she smiled

*Que Alix facepalming herself while Kagami lets out a sigh*

"Whatever, I'm Chloé, but I'm sure you already knew that." - Chloé

They started their project and most interactions went the same way, Chloé would sit in a chair near the window and paint her nails while Marinette did all the work. The next day Marinette and Chloé were the only ones in the art room.

"Okay, let's get started." - Marinette skipping her way over to the art supplies

"You do that, I'll just sit over here." - Chloé walking to her chair

"... Say, is it fun painting your nails?" - Marinette looking over to Chloé

"Of course, what girl doesn't like nail art?" - Chloé

"Well, painting on a canvas is kind of like nail art, here try painting something." - Marinette handing Chloé a paint brush

"Please, I don't do art." - Chloé refusing the paint brush

"But you ‘Paint’ your nails." - Marinette

"It's different!" - Chloé

"Okay, how about this, if I can do a magic trick for you, will you try painting just a little bit?" - Marinette

"...Fine, impress me." - Chloé giving Marinette her full attention

Marinette pulled a seed she got earlier that day out of her pocket and showed it to Chloé

"A seed?" - Chloé giving an unimpressed look

"I'll turn it into a flower, as you can see I only have this seed, and there's nothing up my sleeves. When I turn back around this seed will be a flower, are you ready?" - Marinette still holding the seed for Chloé to see

"Just do it already." - Chloé

So, Marinette turned around putting her free hand over the seed, and imagined it growing. When Marinette turned back around, all Chloé saw was a fully bloomed Common Rockrose flower, leaving her stunned.

"How did you do that?!" - Chloé walking up to Marinette to get a better look at the flower

"Family secret." - Marinette with a small smirk - "So, you want to try painting now?"

"... Fine." - Chloé pouted her lips and sat down at an empty canvas while Marinette walked to the table beside it, and Marinette may or may not have seen a small smile on Chloé's face while she grabbed some more paint.

After about 30 minutes Alix and Kagami came in and found Chloé and Marinette flinging water paint at the canvas

"Ha!" - Marinette whiped her arm out, watching as the wet paint from the brush splattered onto the canvas

"Ha HA!" - Chloé doing the exact same motion, but with a little more flare

Kagami and Alix just stared in amazed silence... they had created a master piece... It was a magnificent painting showing a meadow with many flowers in an almost hazy dream kind of look,  it had a blue sky and a faint rainbow in the background behind some clouds on the horizon

"It's *sniff* Ridiculously beautiful..." - Chloé

"And you thought painting was boring." - Marinette teasing Chloé

"... Isley-Quinzel, look me in the face and say that again." - Chloé

"And you- ("Boop" - Chloé) -Hey!" - Marinette got booped on her nose by Chloé's paint covered finger

"I admit it was fun... to some extent. Now lets act like this never happened." - Chloé getting ready to leave

"How the hell did you get Chloé to paint?!" - Alix snapping out of her surprise, which caused Chloé to get startled and trip, knocking the paint onto Marinette and herself in the process

"Well... that was a colorful entrance." - Marinette now covered in blue, pink, green and red paint

"Utterly Ridiculous!" - Chloé now covered in yellow, dark green, and blue paint

"Ooops?" - Alix shrugging her shoulders

*facepalms* - Kagami

… … …

Marinette and Chloé had to walk around school covered in paint, definitely getting a few awkward stares from the other kids. About an hour later, each pair of students presented their shared work of art. When Marinette and Chloé went up, both holding their masterpiece while still covered in paint, stunned the other students.(Not because Chloé was 1. covered in paint, 2. actually carrying the painting, and 3. had a smile on her face) Needless to say they got an A+, and for the rest of the day Marinette, Chloé, Alix and Kagami hung out laughing and having fun. Not long after that the other kids started making bets on who Marinette would befriend next, and how long it would take for that someone to be an instant friend.

Chloé ended up spending a lot more time with the GPS and eventually...

The girls sat around in a circle within Marinette's room with all the lights off, only having a single lamp in the center of the room to add an ominous glow

"Are you ready to take the oath?" - Alix

"Yes, but why do we have to make it look like some utterly ridiculous ritual summoning?" - Chloe

"I agree with Chloé, I'm not allowed to summon the unnatural or paranormal." - Kagami

"Well, let's forget the paranormal stuff for now, ehem. Chloé Bourgeois, do you promise to always have our backs..." - Marinette

"Through the good and the bad..." - Alix

"To say the truth and nothing but the truth." - Kagami

"Wrong oath Kagami." - Marinette whispering to Kagami

"...... To always stay on the path that is straight and true..." - Kagami

"To uphold the justice in this crazy world..." - Alix

"And to guide those who have abandoned the light... Are you ready to join the GPS?" - Marinette

"Yes." - Chloé

"Girls, time to eat- ... Marinette, please tell me you aren't summoning the unnatural like Harley did that one time." - Selina just opening the door and seeing basically a ritual gathering

"In mom's defense, she was trying to get rid of the spooky spirit." - Marinette

"That was from a story Ed made up that one time, you wouldn't stop seeing the shadows ‘moving’, and then Harley thought she saw them move, and she ended up doing a ritual to get rid of it, but we ended up with the cursed toaster ghost. And now all bread we toast is burnt back home." - Selina

"... But burnt toast is the best!" - Marinette

"Ivy told you that it would make you grow quicker, which then tricked you into liking burnt toast, which isn't tasty at all." - Selina

"*dramatic gasp* You Take That Back!" - Marinette

"Nope, now come down in 3 so we can eat." - Selina closed the door and walked away

"You girls agree with me right?" - Marinette turning to her friends

"... Marinette, how can you think burnt toast is good?!" - Alix

"It's... burnt." - Kagami

"Ehhh, it's okay." - Chloé

"Thank You!" - Marinette hugging Chloé

"... un-second thought, I retract my ‘yes’ to that oath." - Chloé

"Too late." - Kagami

"You're stuck with us..." - Alix then leaned over and whispered in Chloé's ear - "Foreverrrrr."

……… ……… ………

After they had their food they went back up to Marinette's (ritual free) room and started playing Ultimate Mecha Strike 2.

After a few rounds of Marinette dominating Ultimate Mecha Slaughter Strike 2, they moved on to watching some Jurassic Park

"So... your mom cursed your toaster?" - Chloé

"... maybe." - Marinette

"Honestly though, who in their right mind likes burnt toast?" - Alix

"Apparently Marinette." - Kagami

"It's kinda like thin burnt rice crispy treats, just minus the sugar." - Marinette

"*dramatic gasp* You Take That Back Right Now." - Alix

"You don't even know what rice crispy treats are, do you." - Marinette now looking away from the TV and directly at Alix

"Not a clue." - Alix

"It's an American treat, it's actually really good, not to sweet, and not to crunchy." - Chloé

"This is why you are part of the GPS." - Marinette hugging Chloé - "You understand most red blooded American treats, and for that I give you my thanks." - Marinette now starting to tear up

"What are we, chop liver?" - Kagami pointing to Alix and herself

"Well unlike you two, I have seen the other side... I swear, they're all hillbillies, and they live in the worst weather ever! Sunshine state my ass, more like out door saunas 24/7." - Chloé ended up mumbling her last few words

"... That's Florida, and it's not that bad, it never gets hotter than 115°F, and that's during summer." - Marinette

"... No wonder you like burnt toast... your brains were burnt with it." - Alix

"I didn't live in Florida, I lived in New Jersey, and the weather is better there." - Marinette

"That's what she said." - Kagami stuffing her face with popcorn

……… ……… ………

Over the course of the next few months Marinette taught the GPS all she knew about parkour and self-defense, at first they wondered why she knew so many different techniques of self-defense, until she explained where she grew up had a few unpleasant people. They still think she's meta.

When Winter rolled around she was to head back to Gotham for the next month and a half. She was packed and ready when the GPS burst into her room.

"Don't leave! I need an Ice skating buddie!" - Alix clinging to Marinette

"You have Chloé and Kagami, besides, I'm pretty sure Kagami is better on the ice than I am." - Marinette accepting the fact she won't be getting Alix off her anytime soon

"It's Not The Same!" - Alix becoming a human koala on Marinette's back

"She's going to see her family, show some restraint!" - Chloé detaching Alix from Marinette

"No!" - Alix getting out of Chloé's grip and reattaching herself to Marinette

"There's a new attraction with a big ramp jump for the ice skating rink." - Kagami on her phone

"Really?! Let me see!" - Alix detaching herself to look at Kagami's phone, only to see the normal boring ice skating rink - "You tricked me." - Alix gave Kagami the stink eye

"It got you off of Marinette at least." - Kagami putting her phone away

"I'm gonna miss you girls." - Marinette gave them a big hug

"You better not do anything stupid while you're back home." - Chloé

"I would never." - Marinette thinking of the time she ran from the Bat-Birds

"What city in New Jersey do you live in again?" - Alix

"That's-" - Marinette

"Kitten you all set for Gotham?" - Selina opened the door and saw Marinette in a big hug with the girls - "Oh, you girls are here, hope you said your goodbyes because we're leaving in 10 minutes." - She then closed the door to make sure everything was ready downstairs

"... ... ..." - Chloé/Alix/Kagami - "You live where?"

"Gotham...?" - Marinette slowly backing up to grab her luggage and make her way to the door

"Oh hell No!" - Kagami standing between Marinette and the door

"You're staying!" - Alix clinging to Marinette again

"Gotham's a death trap!!!" - Chloé joining Alix and clinging to Marinette

... ... ...

After some convincing the girls let Marinette go, and she was now on the plane that would take her back home.

"... They really think Gotham's a death trap?" - Selina relaxing in the first class seats she got them.

"It's not that bad is it? I had asked them what they thought could even go wrong." - Marinette

"... Well literally everything can go wrong in Gotham... It's not to late to get off actually." - Selina getting up

"Not you too!" - Marinette grabbing her Aunt's hand

"I'm joking Kitten... you are wearing the bullet proof vest under that coat right?" - Selina

"Of course." - Marinette

"Then we should be fine..." - Selina now sitting back down and looking 10 times more nervous than before

"..." - Marinette put her hands together and mumbled under her breath - "Please don't jinx it. Please don't jinx it. Please don't jinx it. Pleeeeease don't jinx it."

……………… They had an hour delay, had to switch flights and couldn't eat anything because it looked like it would give them food poisoning, and they didn't get a wink of sleep......... but they made it to Gotham in one piece... at 2 in the morning.

"You jinxed it." - Marinette dragging her luggage sleepily

"It can't get any worse now-" - Selina

"No!-" - As Marinette tried to stop her Aunt from finishing her sentence, a truck past by the curb and sent a blanket of powdered snow flying into them - "-say it..."

"...Okay, now it-" - Selina was cut off by Marinette stuffing her mouth with the last secret cookie she had

"Don't anger the jinx gods, please." - Marinette pleading to her Aunt

After Selina finished the secret cookie she called Ivy to pick them up. They waited about 15 minutes before Ivy, along with a sleeping Harley in the back seat, picked them up. As they got in the car Harley jolted awake

"Are we dere yet?" - Harley rubbing her eyes

"Yes, and in our snow covered glory we entered the car." - Marinette giving her mom a hug

"I missed yuh so much, it just hasn't been de same wit'outcha cupcake." - Harley returning the hug

"And what about me, did you miss me?" - Selina getting comfortable in the passenger seat

"Ehhh." - Harley tilted here hand from side to side as she continued to side hug Marinette

"... Have I ever told you how great you are at warm welcomes?" - Selina giving Harley the stink eye

"She didn't mean it, you know she has no filter at this hour." - Ivy pulling up to the stoplight

"In other words her honest opinion of me being back is ‘ehhh’, I'm glad she thinks so highly of me." - Selina resting her head on the window

The ride to their base was peaceful, they arrived and went to their rooms after Marinette gave her moms and aunt a goodnight hug. As Marinette went to sleep in her bed, Bud and Lou jumped onto the bed and curled up next to her, as she stroked their fur, she couldn't help but feel excited to spend time with her family and friends. She soon fell asleep in the calm silence of her room, the last thought she had before drifting off, was that she was happy to be back home.

·•·—–·•★•·–—·•·

Chapter 5 complete, hope you're all having a magnificent day, rockin' all the positive vibes and staying safe !BUG-OUT! 🐞💮🐞

〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜Tag List〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜

1st Place★: @jumpingjoy82

2nd Place★: @myazael

3rd Place★: @solangelo252

@fandom-trapped-03, @zorua-adorable, @blueblossombliss, @thefangirlwholiterallydies, @woe-is-me0, @lady-bee-fechin, @jayjayspixiepop, @kashlyn, @toodaloo-kangaroo, @buginetye, @our-preciousss, @vroomtaka, @alessialeone6997, @doll246 , @aestheticnpoetic, @moon5608, @moonlightstar64, @kking13

[sandersgrey]

in your dreams, whatever they be

(You can also read this on ao3!)

Taglist: @foxglove-airmid, @amchara, @goodoldfashionednerd, @adams-left-hand, @hardlymatters

It's been a few days of your little quest into the Faerie realm when you really put your foot down. It's not the first time you've wanted to.

"Kit", you say. It wouldn't have been enough to startle him a few days ago, but his hand flies to his dagger anyway.

"What?"

Ty doesn't turn towards both of you. It's clear he's listening, however, because he does take off his headphones. Bathed by the light of the small campfire you three managed to get going, his tapping fingers make the shadows on the wall dance. Kit has been staring at them for the last twenty minutes.

"You need to sleep."

"I'm fine", Kit says. "I'm not tired anyway."

That's bullshit, and he knows it. You scoff. He crosses his arms, leans back against the wall of the cave, raises his chin. There is something a little wild around his bloodshot eyes. A little like defensiveness, a little like fear.

"You haven't slept since we set foot on this realm, and it shows."

"No, it doesn't."

"You're getting slower," Ty interjects. You wave your hand towards him, emphasizing his point. "That thing earlier almost got you. I've seen you train, and you're usually faster than that."

"Well, thanks for the compliment buried somewhere in there, but it didn't get me, so. I's fine."

You now fully turn to look at Ty, expecting some solidarity in face of your common exasperation. He frowns. The tapping grows faster.

"It isn't fine. What if it does get you the next time?"

"It won't".

"You can't promise that," you snap. Kit's eyes finally leave Ty's fingers to stare, wide-eyed, at you. "If you get hurt-"

"That's what iratzes are for."

"Iratzes can't heal everything!"

"Look, I'm handling it, okay? I've been taking naps-"

"None of them were longer than half an hour," Ty says quietly. "I counted. You always wake up before that."

You point at Ty: "Yeah! And that means you're not actually getting good rest. You're getting clumsier, too."

"Wow, thanks."

Kit's sarcastic. You've known that for years. He has barely held his tongue during this entire mess, but it's mellower from his years away, his comments a little less biting. The change in him is obvious. For some reason, it feels like the last straw. 

"You're slower, you're clumsier, and you're getting way more distracted the more time goes by," you list. "If you get yourself hurt because you're too- I don't even know, stubborn?- to actually lie down for once, you're gonna become a burden. You're of no use to us sleep deprived."

Kit flinches. Ty's eyes snap to him.

Somehow, that's all it takes. Kit finally lies down on the floor of the cave (admittedly not the coziest mattress) and uses his backpack as a pillow, even if he grumbles the entire time. Once he's fully horizontal, he's out like a candle. 

Ty returns his attention to the fire. You start working on brushing all the leaves out of your hair, making a mental note to wake Kit up in a few hours. 

It doesn't take nearly that long for him to start screaming. 

" Livy!"

Ty becomes a living statue at the first scream. You don't blame him. Unexpected loud sound aside, it's- you just- you didn't expect to hear your dead sister's name today, is all. Some part of you wonders if her ghost is around to hear it, too. The rest wonders whether it matters.

The screamed Livys don't stop. It's-

It's hell on his throat, it must be, and that's what you should be thinking about right now. That, and the fact that you really don't want to know what else might be listening outside. 

"Not if you do this, Ty, not if you do this…"

Ty's still frozen. It might be in poor taste, but, well, it's fairly accurate to say- he's as pale as a ghost. Guess it's up to you.

Kit had fallen asleep with his back against the wall, facing towards the mouth of the cave. It's such a sensible position you hadn't thought to notice it means you can't see his face. 

The ground is too hard for you to be crawling on your knees, really, but when no other choice presents itself...

He flinches away from your touch when you try to shake his shoulder.  It works anyway: Kit's eyes blink open, dart around the little cave, see you- see Ty- 

He twists himself up and away from you.

Anyone would have thought it would help him to be awake. Instead, his breathing grows quicker. He's shaking hard enough to be noticeable; it's his hands, mostly. Ty inhales and exhales, deliberately, slowly. 

Kit curls up. He makes himself small, puts his head between his knees. There is something very methodical about the way he tries to slow down his breathing. It's clear he has done this before. He will, you think, do this again.

"Kit", you say, helpless. It startles Ty.

Kit shakes his head, doesn't look at either of you. 

"Just- just give me a moment. Okay? Just give me a moment."

He's rubbing his Voyance rune. You don't know if he's noticed- he probably has, didn't you just realize he's done this before- because he stops as soon as he feels you looking. Kit brings up his hood instead, hides in the shadow of it, holds his hands to his chest. 

None of you say anything. You don't know how long it takes for Kit's breathing to slow down to something a little more sustainable. Ty probably does. It feels like a small eternity.

When Kit finally uncurls enough to reach out for his bag, Ty passes him the water bottle without having to be asked. The water seems to help a little. 

"Are you okay?"

Kit's answer to your question is a snort. "Don't worry," he says. "I'll be functional enough come morning. Have to be, or wouldn't have been able to go to school back home."

"Kit", Ty says. Kit swallows. 

"It's fine."

"Well, it doesn't sound fine", you say. "How long has this been happening?"

Kit stays silent. Suddenly, the shadow of his hood feels a little less like shelter and a little more like a shield.

Ty is staring at him. He has been this entire time, you know- with laser focused attention. His frown keeps growing deeper the more the silence goes on. Until, finally: it eases into an expression you know well. Ty has figured it out, whatever it is.

"Two years." He says. His voice almost echoes in the small space. "It's been happening for two years, hasn't it? Ever since you left."

Kit shakes his head, but it's not a denial. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it does."

"It's nothing you can fix in time to make me more useful," Kit snaps. Oh. Oh, you see now. "So of course it doesn't- it isn't- you don't…"

He makes a frustrated noise, and then shuts up.

Ty is still staring at him. You've never really questioned it before, but now it occurs to you: the way Ty looks at him is so different from how he looks at everyone else. Julian might say that Ty looks at Kit like he's a mystery. That's not quite right. 

Everyone is a bit of a mystery to Ty. But he looks at Kit like this is one he's willing to sit with.

As always nowadays, it seems this is up to you. You get up from the floor and dust off your pants, in a gesture that's more symbolic than anything- this outfit is going directly into the trash once you get back home. Kit glances at you. Ty doesn't.

"Okay", you say,"It looks like you two have a lot to say to each other. I'm not gonna go away, because that's how everyone dies in horror movies, but I am gonna stand at the mouth of the cave with my back to you and pretend I can't hear anything. Have fun talking."

"Dru-"

"Sorry! Can't hear you!"

The ceiling is so low you have to walk leaning down a little, but true to your words, the mouth of the cave is only a few feet away. 

Leaning on the rock, you let your eyes rest on the alien view of the landscape. (Mark is somewhere out there. The thought, you think, is comforting.)

There is only silence for a few moments. 

"I'm sorry," Kit says.

"What for?'

"For… I don't know. I didn't want- you didn't need to- there's a reason I didn't want to fall asleep."

"You need as much rest as us. Even if it's hard to get."

Kit exhales loudly enough for you to hear, shifting against the rock wall. He can't be comfortable. You know you're not. 

"What can I do?", Ty asks.

"You don't need to do anything. I don't- it's fine. I'll be fine."

"I know I don't need to do anything. I want to."

"Because I'm of no use to you exhausted?", Kit says pointedly, and you grimace. 

You're starting to understand that it might have been a particularly tactless thing to say. It seems an apology is in order- not now, while you're still pretending you're not here, but… later, maybe. When he's rested a little more. 

"Because I care about you", Ty says. "Useful or not."

The silence feels more meaningful this time. It drags on for longer, too. You're shifting your weight, starting to get impatient, when Kit finally answers

"You don't need to, but..."

"But?"

"Hold me?"

There is the sound of both of them shifting, fabric rustling as they adjust themselves. You valiantly don't look. The cave is small and echoey enough that you can make out the sound of someone- probably Ty- whispering, but still not tell exactly what they're saying without a rune. 

You don't reach for your stele. Something about this moment feels private.

When you finally turn back around, your legs complaining about keeping the same position for so long, Ty looks up at you and holds a finger over his mouth. 

Kit is asleep. He's curled up in Ty's lap, head tucked safely under his chin. A hand clings to Ty's shirt.  It can't be comfortable for either of them, but…

But, for the next few hours, his sleep is peaceful.

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Not All Treasure is Silver and Gold (Part One)

Pairing: Pirate!Bakugou x mermaid!reader

Warnings: Ehh, this portion is gender neutral but from here on out the reader is referred to as female. This does work as a stand alone story, though. Otherwise no warnings from this one.

{Pt. 1} {Pt. 2} {Pt. 3} {Pt. 4}

Author's Note:

Sooo, I know I said I probably wouldn't have this out for another while, buuuttt, I didn't have anything for today and this one was just staring at me 🥺. I don't quite have a concrete plan for the full thing, and there's no guarantees for when part two is going to come out. Also I might draw something like last time to use as a banner. The one that's down there is a placeholder.

Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy this! I've been wanting to write this story for almost a year now, and I finally have the chance! If you'd like to be part of the taglist for this story, please message me!

I think that's it. Love you!!

-Sugar

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⊱ ──── 《∘🕱∘》 ──── ⊰

A shadow slid across the ocean floor.

Basking in the warmth of the sun, it truly made for an unwelcome interruption. You'd been partaking in a nap only moments prior, mind slowly shifting through half-baked thoughts as the sun shone down onto the sand beneath you. Prompted by the change of brightness and temperature, you blinked your eyes open, rolling over to your back with a lethargic stretch of your arms. Squinting, you frowned up at the surface rippling a considerable distance above you.

There you saw it, some strange shape making its way over the water above. It seemed to be some kind of brownish color, wide and tapered to a point at each end.

Your annoyance faded as curiosity struck you. You didn’t think you’d ever seen anything like it before. You studied it from your vantage point on the ocean floor even as the sunlight reappeared on your relaxed body. It wasn’t as though you were doing anything important right now, you figured. Maybe it was something worth investigating, at least for a short time.

Rousing yourself from the sand, you flicked your tail to propel yourself up in the direction of the object.

You poked your head out of the water, body bobbing up and down with the motions of the waves. You blinked, bringing a hand out of the water in an attempt to shield your vision from the blinding sun. How did anything live up here? It felt as though your eyes were going to dry up and incinerate to nothing.

There it was, the strange object that had cast such a shadow. It was even bigger above water. Mahogany planks shaped it into that odd form, making it float on the ocean, cutting through waves as though they were nothing. Large masts seemed to sprout up from the center like kelp in a forest, sporting billowing white cloths rippling in the air currents.

Ah, yes, it was a boat, and an impressive one at that. You suddenly remembered seeing the ones just like this that couldn’t float anymore, having swum past the ruined, swollen wood during your time in this part of the sea. They were ominous, sitting still on the ocean floor, carrying a dark, somber aura about them as they laid dead where they’d never move again.

But this ship was every meaning of the word alive, shining in the midday sun and skimming dutifully over the bright blue water. Its size might have looked intimidating, but the thing itself was also very intriguing.

Naturally, you swam closer.

The thing was fast, but luckily, so were you. You dived back down, your powerful tail bringing you a few body lengths up to the submerged bottom of the ship. Popping out of the water again, you looked all the way up its side.

Now that you were closer, you thought you heard something. The sounds were new to you, similar to whalesong. But this was deeper, choppier, and somehow harsher. You frowned in the direction of the noises. What was on this boat?

You circled it underwater—careful not to get too close—coming back up a few times to get another look from a different angle.

You had to admit, it carried an odd beauty about it. Something like this must have been built, but the craftsmanship was so intricate, and it was massive . . . .

You sprung up above water again some ways away from it. Perhaps this thing wasn’t as exciting as you’d initially thought. It was a pain to keep up with and the noises coming from it kept hurting your ears.

Just as you turned to leave, a movement caught your eye. There it was, a flash of gold just at the side of the ship. It looked vaguely . . . familiar.

You went closer again to get a better look, and it was then that you met a pair of golden eyes, looking much like those of your people of the sea.

The figure startled as soon as he saw you, blinking and squinting in your direction. He made more of those strange chattering sounds you’d kept hearing, looking behind him and frantically pointing at you with his outstretched hand.

Rude, you thought, but what was a merman doing all the way up there?

A second head appeared next to the first, this one with vibrant, spiky red hair. You experimentally waved at them in greeting, wondering why you couldn’t understand them. Maybe they were from a different ocean you'd never seen.

They both leaned over the side. It looked like they were trying to communicate something to you, but whatever it was, you didn’t get it.

The red haired one turned and left, but was quick to come back with a weird circular object. It was attached to a rope and had an open circle in the middle, just big enough to put the top third of your body through.

To your mild surprise, he tossed it over the side at you, and it landed with surprising accuracy only a tail length away. You swam over to it, picking it up out of the water. It was oddly light—which probably explained why it floated so easily on the waves—and was made out of some strange material.

You glanced dubiously back up at the faces on the side of the ship. They were looking at you with . . . distress? What was this thing? Was it some kind of gift? What were you supposed to do with it? You couldn’t hold it down under the waves, so how were you supposed to bring it back underwater with you?

Either way, you thought it would be rude to decline. You grabbed the rope that was tied to it. It looked as though they were still holding on to the other end. You really wouldn’t be able to take it anywhere if it was still attached to the ship.

You grabbed the rope and tugged. They held onto it. Frustrated, you tugged again. Looking up at their faces, you matched their expressions of confusion. What were you missing here?

Perhaps they were only trying to show it to you. You decided to follow through with your initial idea of putting it around the upper portion of your body. You lifted it over your head—you fit through it okay, at least—and soon it reached the submerged base of your tail.

You floated there for a second. Was this all it was good for? Kind of useless if you asked yourself. Again, you made up your mind to leave. You had better things to do than play silly games with the weirdos in the sky.

Before you could slip back out under the object, you felt yourself being pulled closer to the boat. Now what were they doing?

You frowned up the side again, but this time you couldn’t really see them. They must have stepped back further onto the boat. Intrigued, you let them pull you along with them. You got closer and closer to the side, and finally the rope connecting you to the other end slanted completely vertical. You adjusted yourself so you wouldn’t slide out. Perhaps they were trying to bring you up so they could meet you. You weren’t sure what they’d gain by that, seeing as you couldn’t understand them. Heck, they probably wouldn’t be able to understand you either. But you were still curious. What did the boat look like from up there? It wasn’t all that interesting from the underside, but maybe if you were able to see it from the top . . . .

The two strangers began to haul you out of the water. It was a little scary, you had to admit. Slowly, your body was extracted from the water. Waves slapped against your tail ever lower, and eventually you were fully suspended in midair. You clung tightly to the rope. Glancing back at the sea below, you realized it was a long way down, and the higher you went, the less you were comfortable with the idea of falling.

You'd never been all the way out of the water like this, and it almost felt as though you were flying like those seabirds you'd see living on islands. Except this wasn't as fun. You were meant to swim in the water, not get dragged through the air.

Finally you saw the rim of the ship, and you picked up on the grunting and labored breaths from the two weirdlings you’d seen earlier. You reached up and grabbed onto the side, hoisting your body up. Then you saw them.

These weren’t quite the mermen you were used to. The things that were pulling you up had legs.

You stared at them for a moment, watching fascinated as they walked towards you. Tearing your eyes away from their tailless, split bodies, you glanced back at their faces. Why did they look so concerned? Did they always look like that?

The blond one was the first to reach you. He was quick to grab your hand to help you over the railing, chattering something at you. You let him pull your body up a little higher, and then he froze. To your surprise, he let go of your hand, dropping your bodyweight and causing you to pitch forward. You slid gracelessly to the dry floor of the ship like some kind of overgrown eel, fins and tail meeting the floor of the boat with a wet thud.

You spluttered, annoyed, curling your scaled appendage closer into yourself. “What is this?!” you finally asked.

The blond one had run back to the redhead, pointing frantically and clearly panicked. The red haired one also looked shaken, but otherwise seemed somewhat more collected as he studied you.

“Whatever,” you mumbled, sliding the flotation object off of yourself. “I don’t want this thing anyway.”

You glanced around, taking in the ship up close. It was pretty cool, but in hindsight, it probably wasn’t worth the whole fiasco you’d gone through to get here. The floor was mostly bare, give or take a few stacked boxes here and there. You recognized a net hanging from a pole, one of which you’d seen countless before. Was this where they came from?

“Those things are dangerous,” you said, pointing at it. “I’ve had to cut a lot of animals out of them.”

It was then that the red haired one stepped closer to you. You drew back just a bit, suspicious.

Examining him, you took in the mismatched rings that adorned his ears, and the billowy off-white covering he wore over his chest. The front was open, exposing the tanned skin of his torso. Darker brown fabric covered his lower half, tucked into clunky coverings at the very bottom. Another strip of cloth was tied around his head, making his vibrant hair stick up in odd directions.

He crouched down so you wouldn’t have to crane your neck up to look at him. He tried to say something to you again, but this time his voice wasn’t so loud. It was still foreign to your ears, but it was low and smooth.

You gave him an apologetic expression. “Listen,” you said. “This was fun and all, but I should probably get going.”

You turned and tried to slide yourself closer to the side you’d come from. Much to your annoyance, your tail hindered your movements. You were used to the grace of the water, but now you felt heavy and clunky. Scowling, you tried to pull yourself to the railing with your arms, but nothing was cooperating with you. The boat swayed with the motion of the waves down below, and as soon as you figured you’d made progress, you’d have to fight even harder against the force pulling you back.

You felt something touch your tail, and you whipped around with a threatening hiss, baring your teeth. It was the redhead again, and apparently he’d been the first to notice the rope that had gotten tangled around the fins and scales of your tail. Maybe he was trying to help, but he was touching your tail. You could do it yourself.

Jerking the lower portion of your appendage, you were able to smack him away with your fins. Feelings hurt, he stepped back.

You grabbed at the rope, cursing the fact that you’d ever gotten up from your nap in the first place as you struggled to untangle yourself from the device that had brought you up here. You wondered how you had gotten stuck so bad as you tugged at the coarse material. Seriously, you were so done with this today. You vowed to never go up to another boat again in your life if you could only get off this one—

And then you saw him.

The blond must have left a while ago but now you saw who he’d come back with. It was another being like the other two. He was blond like the first one, but his hair was shorter, spikier, and reminded you of the pale yellow of the sun. He was bigger than the other blond, but smaller than the redhead. You didn’t think you’d ever seen a face so handsome, even among the mermen back where you lived. He bore a scowl on his face, similar to the one you’d been sporting seconds earlier. Strength and authority rolled off him in waves, not only in the way he carried himself but also in the respect he garnered from the others around him.

He was tall, he was hot, and now you were just staring.

The sexy weirdling grumbled something, and you honestly weren’t sure to whom it was intended for until he stepped forward. You were slower to pull away as he approached, almost drawn to him in a strange way.

He knelt in front of you, pulling out a sharp object from a hidden pouch on his hip. Your heart fluttered in momentary fear as he brought it closer to your tail, but soon you saw the way he reached for the rope. Without scarcely touching your scales, he pulled on the material and sliced through it, cutting you free in a few fluid motions. You were caught up in watching him work, silently in awe as his rough hands delicately moved over your body.

Soon, you were able to move again, but before you could, he straightened and lifted your body from the floor. You gasped, clutching at his broad shoulders as you were once again suspended in midair. But this time you felt secure; his arms supporting the weight of your body. He met your eyes for a split second, and you became lost in the pools of orangey-red. They were deep, and bright, and you felt as though you could gaze into them forever.

Then you were hauled above the railing and tossed over the side.

Weightless, you fell back to the sea from which you came. It was surreal, watching his pale face grow smaller and smaller as wind rushed around you and gravity pulled you further away.

No, you thought, still in a daze. You wanted to stay with him, to keep looking at him, to know his name—

But all too quick, your back hit the cold water of the sea, skin stinging from the impact. With an impressive splash, you sank down again to the place you called home.

You didn’t know how to feel now, watching from below as the ship surged on without you. You were astonished and confused, lost and frozen in the deep blue world that surrounded you.

It was then that you vowed to see him again, no matter what.

You were warm—a little giddy—and you were determined.

You were in love.

…

To be continued . . . .

[Part Two]

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Taglist: @aahilovetheatre @basicalyrandom @bumbyslair @f0leysgurl @hyunmin-1404 @kqtsukii @nabo39 @pyrofanatic​ @rainy-skys-and-bright-stars @sendhelpimstupid @ure-a-sunflower @xoxopam4 @deltajay @sillygoof @whipped-cream-writings

[whereplotbunniesgotodie]

Perfume and Iron

Pairing: GeraltxJaskier

Warning: mentions of blood and near death

Not a happy ending but not sad either, so I'd say this is an ambiguous melancholy ending.

Summary: When Jaskier sees Geralt in danger, even a year after they parted, he throws himself in to save him. When he find out he wasn't killed like he fully expected, he and Geralt talk but sometimes things don't end the way we all want them to, do they?

He knew better. Of course he knew better! Numerous decades will beat understanding into you whether you want it to or not, really. Of course knowing better doesn't mean following through with that knowledge. Knowing better doesn't mean you'll sit back and let your best friend die just because he has an overwhelming death wish and you haven't seen him in over a year.

Surprisingly, as far as Jaskier was concerned, it hadn't hurt like he'd expected it too. Granted, it did feel like a hot knife was being perpetually stabbed into his stomach and then twisted, but that wasn't the all consuming agony he, quite frankly, expected of a monster's poisoned claw slicing across his abdomen. 

Geralt was looking at him with eyes wide in shock,or at least he assumed that's the look the Witcher wore, his pitch black eyes hampering his ability to read the expression. The creature lay slain at his feet, blood joining Geralt's in a somber pool. His hand sat limp at his side, his sword dragging in the dirt. His other hand clutched at a bleeding gash taking up his entire side, a vain attempt to slow it. 

Huh, wasn't that funny? Geralt never, ever looked shocked. Maybe that had changed in the year since they'd seen each other, since that horrible day on the mountain. Maybe Geralt was willing to admit he had emotions? 

Jaskier frowned when Geralt's form began to swim as his gaze went hazy. He tried to step towards the other, to clear his vision, but felt his legs give out beneath him and he gasped as suddenly he found himself on the ground. 

"Jaskier!" 

Funny, that didn't sound like Geralt, too distraught to be the Witcher. 

He tried to lift his head, to see what had suddenly taken Geralt's form but found even that was too much. Wouldn't that just be poetic? Jaskier, the White wolf's bard, died protecting a shapeshifter. He'd have laughed if he felt he could.

Strangely, he realized it no longer felt like he was being repeatedly stabbed, in fact, it didn't feel like anything. He almost swore he was floating,flying even, but that was silly, he couldn't fly!

"Jaskier! Look at me you damn idiot!"  oh… Geralt but not Geralt again. This time the tone bordered somewhere between fear and hysteria and the idea that Geralt would feel either of those about Jaskier himself was just ridiculous. 

Jaskier found himself gently rolled onto his back, or at least that's what he had to assume. The hazy brown that had filled his vision was now a hazy blue. There was a shadow blocking out some of the blue and he wanted to reach up and touch it. Maybe that would show him what had taken on the form of his old friend, he did have a ring on for just such a reveal. Bought after they parted as Geralt's warnings about creatures still echoed in his head.

"Jaskier, you have to focus on me." 

Hands cupped his cheeks, pulling his attention to the shadowed figure. Well, not so shadowed anymore, just blurry; like looking through water.

"Where'd Geralt go? What are you?"

"Where did…? Jaskier it's me. I'm right here?"

Jaskier frowned, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to focus them. Geralt not Geralt sounded so confused, more proof he wasn't Geralt. 

"No. No, see, I saw you… I saw you and thought Geralt was going to be hit by the monster again. You… Geralt… you wouldn't have been alright after another hit!"

"And you stupidly got in the way!"

"But Geralt wouldn't be upset by that! And you… you sound like you're upset. Geralt… Well, see, Geralt said his best blessing would be… would be…" that was odd, he knew what he wanted to say but the words just wouldn't slip past his tongue. In fact it felt like his mouth was filling with something… Water? He had to force himself to speak through the full feeling in his mouth.  "Would be if I was off his hands…"

Finally! That's What he wanted to say!  "I couldn't let him die! Of course… I thought you were him."

"I am hi- Jaskier it is me." 

"You can't be because… Geralt hates me!" Jaskier said. Goddess, why didn't not Geralt understand? 

"I don't… hate.." Geralt not Geralt stumbled over his words in a bizzare show of emotion. "I don't hate you Jaskier."

Jaskier let out a laugh, wet, strained and humorless. He didn't think he could laugh anymore so that was good. He could feel the… Whatever it was in his mouth, running down his chin, and he wanted so badly to reach and wipe it away, but didn't have the strength. 

"Of course you don't. But he does." 

Not Geralt didn't respond, too busy turning his attention to Jaskier's abdomen. Not Geralt moved and suddenly Jaskiers entire upper body was a lot cooler than it had been before… Oh, not Geralt had ripped his doublet and chemise off. Well damn, he'd really like this lavender one, it complimented his skin tone.

"Hey…" he said, a weak attempt at berating Not Geralt.

"Shut up Jaskier!"

Oh… well that sounded like Geralt. Maybe it was…? Jaskier tried to shake the thought from his head. He knew this wasn't his old friend but as long as they kept the form maybe he could pretend? 

The pressure on his stomach disappeared for a moment and Jaskier frowned. No.. No! He didn't want to be alone when he died! Where did not Geralt go?

Something cool was pressed to his lips and a thick, vaguely flowery tasting liquid invaded his mouth, overpowering the wet, full feeling. He swallowed instinctively and couldn't help but make a face at the flavor of perfume and iron. The cool vial was quickly pulled away and Jaskier tried to squint and see what not Geralt was doing. 

A sudden burning pain enveloped him, stemming from the slash across his abdomen, and he couldn't help but scream. It was as if the creature had slashed through him again, with claws recently dipped in flames. He could feel his back arch as if to get away from the pain but not Geralt pressed his hands to the slash and pushed Jaskier back to lay flat. 

Jaskier managed to reach up and scratch at not Geralt's arm. He wanted it to stop! What was happening? The pain was increasing and not Geralt was holding him down and… And he was hot, far too hot.

"It's a potion! It's safe for you but you have to stop thrashing!" Not Geralt snarled at him. 

"Hurts!" Jaskier managed as the pain intensified. "Stop!" He had to get away, to get the pain to stop!

"Jaskier, enough!" Not Geralt snapped and used more pressure to press Jaskier once again to the ground. There was pain in his voice, or maybe Jaskier imagined the strained tremor he heard. 

 It was getting dark again and Jaskier felt the pain begin to fade into the background, his ears filling with a rushing buzz that drowned out everything around him. Once again he couldn't focus. He let himself fall limp and closed his eyes, he couldn't see anyway.

When he opened his eyes, which was surprising in it's own right, it was to the dim light of a fire a few feet away. Right after his eyes opened, he heard rustling to his right and suddenly he could make out  a shadowed shape above him. 

"Jaskier…"

Oh… Not Geralt was still here, still sounding just this side of wrong, just a little too emotional. Jaskier closed his eyes tightly, hands clenching at his side. 

"Don't you dare pass out on me again." 

That… sounded much more like Geralt usually did. That sounded angry and exasperated and… oh so familiar. "Worked too damn hard to keep you alive."

Jaskier sighed and kept his eyes closed. This time the voice was a bit calmer, closer to worried than angry.

"Jaskier? Come on, don't pass out again…" 

There was a hand running through his hair, brushing the sweat slicked strands back and out of his face. 

“Jaskier?” 

Jaskier opened his eyes again, looking straight into worried amber. 

"There you are." Not Geralt said as he sat back and just out of Jaskier's line of sight. Before he could question it, not Geralt gently helped him sit up, and leaned the bard against his chest to anchor him. 

"Come on, sit up for me."

Jaskier frowned and struggled weakly. "Alright. You had your fun pretending to be Geralt bu-" he started, turning his upper body as best he could to look at the other.

"Pretending?" Not Geralt cut him off. "Jaskier. I'm not…" he lowered his eyes and must have caught the glint of Jaskier's ring because without another word he took the bard's wrist in his hand and lifted it to his cheek. The ring pressed into his skin and there was no burning, no anything. "See?" 

"Geralt…" Jaskier breathed quietly.

The witcher himself nodded, despite the fact it wasn't a question in Jaskier's tone. He curled himself around the other and Jaskier had the distinct sense that the witcher was unaware of doing so.

"Geralt… I hate to be the one to say this especially right now, but… why are you here?"

Geralt tensed and leaned away so quickly, a rush of breeze from the movement sent a shiver down Jaskier's back. 

"What do you mean?" Geralt asked. "You were going to die an-"

Jaskier cut him off. "I was, yes. If you do remember about the last time we parted… Well, honestly Geralt it seemed like… I mean," he looked away, "Isn't that what you asked for?" He couldn't help the hitch in his voice or breath when he spoke. "Back then, you said…"

"I know what I said!" Geralt hissed, pained and quiet. "I know what I said and how horrible it was!" Geralt looked away, expression surprisingly open.

Jaskier glanced back, brows pinched in question. 

 "I met up with Yenn about three months after we parted. She heard what I had said to you and hit me so hard I was sure she intended to kill me." Geralt explained quietly. "She might have been trying to actually…" he added as an afterthought. "Said I was the stupidest man she'd ever seen, and that was saying something. Said I'd realize what I lost when it was gone and she'd not feel any sympathy for me."

Jaskier was quiet, lowering his gaze to stare unseeing at the fire in front of them. "I was sure you didn't want to see me again." He finally whispered. "And even so I was prepared to die for you…"

Geralt was quiet as well for a few moments, long enough that Jaskier had the unusual thought that the witcher had gone mute, but the other eventually spoke

"You were prep-…Why? I was terrible to you."

"I've always been reckless. You know that." 

Geralt frowned and Jaskier glanced away again. 

"I've never known you to have a death wish." 

"You haven't known me for a while." 

"Jaskier…"

The bard flinched slightly at the tone, quietly resigned and sad. "I know…" he replied. 

"I missed you…" Geralt let his sudden declaration hang in the air, Jaskier could feel him tense when the words left his mouth. 

"What…?"

"After Yenn tried to beat sense into me, I realized she was right. I pushed you away, lost you, and I regretted it. I wanted to find you but I didn't think you'd want to see me again."

Jaskier was quiet, listening to the other with a kind of detached melancholy. How long had he waited for the other to say these things? How long had he longed for Geralt to see him, want him, miss him? He'd willingly risked his life for the other not twenty four hours before and yet… Why wasn't he ecstatic? Why wasn't he happier?

When he didn't reply Geralt let out a long breath. "Is it too late to try again?"

Jaskier lowered his eyes, the blue unfocused and glassy as he stared unseeing at the ground. 

"I... don't know." 

[loxbbg]

Etherial

Chapter 2

Masterlist

Ethereal: extremely delicate and light in a way that seems too perfect for this world.

Its been 3 month since Y/N left with Voldemort. The last time I saw her was when I got my dark mark 2 weeks after she left. She looked tired from the dark circles under her eyes and the bruises from her training and overusing her magic.  When her and Voldemort appeared she was surrounded by all the adults asking her to show them what she had learned so far. After about 5 new spells she learned including the killing curse on a random bird outside she had an obvious look of annoyance on her face she flashed out of the room surprising everyone at the sudden flash. I wasn't surprised she did it. She never was much of a people person unless it was at Hogwarts where she had to be. She didn't use her becen in the 3 months I didn't blame her she was busy.  During the time I went through my own training with Bellatrix I felt worn out with every spell thrown at me. I was expected to do what my father couldn't. I held the Malfoy name and legacy on my back. How was I supposed to do this?

My mothers hands rested on my shoulder as I was hunched over in the chair. Opening my eyes my mother sat below me looking up at me removing my hands from my face.

“Draco my Draco, my beautiful boy I see the turmoil going on in your beautiful eyes.” She looked up at me with worried eyes

“Mother I don't think I can do this. I know I have to but what if I can. I'll be on my own. What if I get caught? I cannot go to Azkaban, he will kill me. This wasn't supposed to happen till after Y/N and I… we were supposed to marry.”

“And It can still happen to Draco. Y/N just has a bigger play in life sooner than we expected but so do you. How do you think Y/n would react to seeing you this way.” She would probably tell me that I'm better than this that I was “The Draco Malfoy” and could do anything with or without her. She was dreadfully silly around me different than what anyone whether it be a death eater or schoolmate she was just my Y/N not “Y/n Wayne” or “The Cursed Godchild” just Y/n.

“Draco If you need me I will be here and even if she isn't here you know Y/N would be here helping you. Trust me you'll see her soon just focus on what has to be done now.” Draco inhaled.

It's been three months. Three months since I last spoke to her. Our 6th year of Hogwarts is supposed to start. My bags were already on the train. My mother and Estrella stood on the platform waiting for me to say goodbye. It was a tradition for them to send us off but today, this year of all years we needed them to be here. I needed her to be here.

“Watch where you're going.” Someone bumped into me almost knocking me off my balance.

“Sorry love I’ve just been so dazed my summer has been crazy.”  That voice sounds so familiar. Looking down at the short black haired girl I haven't seen the entire vacation in her Slytherin robes but, how? She couldn't be done with training.

“Bloody Hell” I pull her body into mine holding her close in the hug.

“Hello darling I’ve missed you. Summer has been one hell of a ride.” She looks up at me smirking.

“Beautiful  you have no idea.” I pressed my lips onto her forehead pulling her further into me. Months felt like years after not seeing her. She moved from under my lips looking up at me, she wraps her arms around my neck pulling me closer to her.

“I've been wanting to do this for a while now.” Our lips meet melting into each other. If the train had not blown its horn we might have missed it.

“They knew by the way.” She whispered after pulling away looking at our parents.

“I finished my training and my mother had already packed my bags so I came early and saved us a seat but we should really go before they leave without us. The faster we get to Hogwarts the faster we can be alone.” She whispers the last line for only me to hear. We wave to our parents running into the train at the final bell of the train. No one knew what we really went through this summer but they will know after what’s coming this year.

(blah blah blah pov switch)

Walking into the cart we walked into the booth with our stuff Pansy and Blaise sitting opposite of where we would sit. Slipping into the booth I link my hands with Draco, I have so much to tell him, to show him. Godfather has shown me things, things near muggles couldn't  fathom.

“ How was your summer?” Parkinson asked, looking down and Dracos and I linked hands. She's always had a crush on Draco. I knew she felt threatened by me always asking me if Draco and I were together? Why did we spend so much time together? What part of us being childhood friends did she not understand? This was meant to happen, sad she had so much hope. Kinda pathetic really.

“Well it wasn't really that eventful. We took some trips together with both our families. It was a shame our fathers couldn't be there but besides for that nothing much happened.” I kept eye contact with Pansy smiling as I brushed my thumb on Draco’s. He breaks away from his conversation with Blaise looking in my direction he leans close to my ear

“You know you're making it obvious.” I smirked against his ear, glancing over at Pansy who looked annoyed and uncomfortable.

“ I know, that's the point” Pulling away I put a small peck on his lips before leaning my head onto his shoulder.

“Oh yeah and that too.”I shrug. Pansy thinks everything outside the window looks more interesting than looking at us, Blaise just looked at smirking at Draco continuing their conversation, Draco wraps his arm around my waist. I unintentionally fell asleep on his shoulder.

“What just happened? Blaise? “ My eyes quickly fluttered open hearing Draco who was looking around the cart

“Don't know,” Blaise responded. Just then, a small bag teeters, then tumbles from a luggage rack. It was Draco's wheels.

“Relax guys. The lights went out is all. Come on Draco we’ll be at Hogwarts before you know it.” She bats her non-existent eye lashes at her. Her flirting couldn't be anymore obvious its getting desperate at this point.

Draco eyes the bag, slinging it back onto the luggage rack and plops down. I run my hands through his hair looking up at the bag, It's never happened before.

“Hogwarts. What a pathetic excuse for a school. I think I’d pitch myself off the Astronomy Tower if I thought I had to continue on for another two years.” I continue twisting my fingers through his hair. It truly was pathetic it could've been a great school centuries ago.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Pansy asked.

“Let’s just say I don’t think you’ll be seeing Y/N and I, wasting our time in Charms Class next year.” Pansy Glances over at Blaise who just snorts. Looking over at me I just shrug agreeing with what Draco said.

“Are you amused Blaise? We’ll see just who’s laughing in the end.”  I chuckled to myself, if things were different maybe he would tell Blaise, I could care less about Pansy and her wondering little hands. I saw how she reached out for Darco when she thought I was asleep.

Blaise shakes his head, smiling as he looks out the window at the darkness of the tunnel. Just then the small bag in the upper rack shifts. Dracos and I look up to it. Draco reached for his wand still looking up to the bag, I have a clue to what or who might be in the rack and I think Draco does as well. I reached for his hand shaking my head ‘no’ now wasn't the time with all these people around.

“Later.” I whispered, not moving my head from his shoulder. If Potter wasn't so obvious he might have heard. The rest of the ride was met in silence as Draco refused to say anything unless it was small talk.

As the Hogwarts express pulled into the station Draco and I stayed behind. Draco pulled down our bags gripping onto the handle.

“Go guys, we'll meet up in a bit. I think I left something in the bathroom.” I shooed Pansy and Blaise away. They know Draco and I are like glue so they didn't expect him to leave me alone. Walking out the train cart Draco lets the blinds down with a spell closing the door in the process.

“Didn’t mummy ever tell you it’s bad manners to eavesdrop, Potter? Petrificus Totalus!” Draco points his wand to the luggage rack. Harry hits the floor with a thump. I moved Harry's Invisibility cloak revealing him paralized to the floor.

“She can't remember she's been dead before he could wipe the drool off his face.” I smirk looking bored at Harry’s shocked expression at my response. Unusually I would just watch ‘helplessly’ as Draco made fun of him but never participated.

Draco brought his foot down onto Harry’s face snapping his nose blood pooling from it. I move the invisibility cloak onto Harry faking a pout.

“Enjoy the ride back to London.” Draco spat.

“Goodbye Harry” I fully covered his face, Draco already at the door with the rest of our bags to the carriages. Walking up you our carriage of course there needed to be an issue

“It's not a cane, you cretin.It’s a walking stick.” Flinched passed a metal detector over the stick in question. If I could I would flash us into hogwart by now but ‘no’ that's gonna raise suspicion.

“And what exactly would you be wanting with a walking stick?” Aren't these muggle lovers supposed to be sensitive?

“It's his Fathers you insensitive bastard.” I sneered leaning on the carriage.

“Was his fathers.” Snape separated himself from the shadows. Draco, eyeing him warily, snatching the stick from Filch.

“Is my father’s. He’s not dead.” He was sent to Alatraz and all of a sudden they don't even mention him in the present no wonder Draco hates it here.  Draco carefully wraps the stick in felt, laying it back inside his trunk.

“It’s alright, Mr. Filch. I can vouch for Mr. Malfoy and Mrs. Wayne.” Snape says putting the last of the things into the carriage. Instead of coming in with me Snape and Draco walked besides it while it moved. Turning around Draco caught Harry looking at him. I followed his gaze at Potter with a crooked nose.

“Nice face, Potter.” Draco called out as Potter was no longer in sight.

“My mother told me what you're doing for Draco. She also told me what you know. Are you sure you're willing to leave all of this. Betray the people you call your friends for the dark lord.” I turned my attention to snape. Is it really wise to have someone willing to betray the people he was around for so long.

“These people were never my friends, merely a cover until you godfather came back to make his claim.” I didn't want to question him too much in fear of others hearing but for now it satisfied my curiosity. Good to know someone on the inside was watching.  Glancing ast Draco who looked deep in thought I snapped my fingers at him.

“What are you thinking about, ferret?” I chuckled at the name given to him after he was changed to one a year ago. He wasn't too fond of it but I couldn't care.

“You know I hate when you call me that.” he snapped.

“Just answer.” I chuckled.

“Just thinking about father. Do you think that he will get out.” I hadn't even thought about it, both of our fathers were locked up. I hadn't had the time to really think about it. It was the first summer my father, both our fathers were not  home when we returned from Hogwarts. We hadn't been able to go on our family trip. Everything changed this summer.

“Draco, you don't trust godfather, trust me. I will do everything I can to get them out I swear.” He smiled up at me. I stepped out of the carriage wanting to walk with him. He pulled me close to him kissing the ring he gave to me during the triwizard games. Hogwarts was in our sights looking up. I let out a breath. Being here again made me realize this yeari will finally be doing something important and worthy rather than having these people suck up to me for my name.

“Are you ready.” Draco asked. Looking back Snape let out a breath looking like he's over this already.

“Born ready.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

"Nee~ Leona-san~!" Ruggie peeked inside Leona's room, hoping to swipe some money for the groceries when instead he spied upon a small story. Flicking through it, he grinned with a mischevious glint in his eye before snickering. "A bedtime story huh? Seems someone really was bored here. I'm sure she won't mind me sharing it with the others, she left it out in the open after all~ Nishishishi" - 💀 anon (i hope that'll do for a prompt! I don't know how to send in character interaction asks well but I thought it'd be a fun idea if Ruggie got his hands on the Magus and Knight story)

If you know Granblue Fantasy, you’ll see the strong Gawain and Lennah parallels.

The Flower Magus and the Scorned Knight

{A tale by Raven Crowley}

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away...

There was a gifted young magus that ate a forbidden fruit. The fruit, born from a parasitic tree, cursed the girl to become a tree herself with time. Her skin would become bark, and her hair and the tips of her fingers would sprout leaves.

The only thing that slowed the acceleration of the curse was casting her own magic, which left trails of flowers wherever she went. And so, the ‘Flower Magus’ embarked on a journey to spread her gift throughout the land with what life she had remaining.

A few countries over, a young knight had also been inflicted with a curse. A hero of war, his cruelty and hubris earned him the resentment of many. He was punished for his sins—cursed to wear his blood-stained armor until he could atone through kind acts.

The cursed warrior had made many enemies that wished for his death—so the ‘Scorned Knight’ fled from his home country, seeking safety, shelter... and, most importantly, to find a means of lifting his curse.

Several years later, the Flower Magus and the Scorned Knight crossed paths in a humble little village.

A brawl had broken out on the street, and the Scorned Knight was in the center of it all.

“Give me your coin and your fancy armor,�� a ruffian demanded, brandishing a dagger.

“I think not. A welp such as yourself should be thankful that I am even granting you a second of my time.”

“What’dya just call me?!”

“Ah, perhaps my vocabulary is too advanced for your understanding. Allow me to put it in layman’s terms then.”

“Wha--”

“You are ‘a scrub’--and if you wish to take my belongings, then you had best ‘come at me’ with all your might, weakling.”

“YOU--” The ruffian flew into a frenzy. “I’ll slice up your pretty face!!”

“Gentlemen.” The Flower Magus, who had been strolling down the street, interjected. “You are disturbing the peace of this quaint village. Please calm yourselves.”

“Never!” Both men declared stubbornly.

“Then maybe some flowers will soothe your souls,” the Flower Magus suggested, waving her staff.

Immediately, a sea of flowers erupted from the ground, swamping over both brawlers. Blossoms crept up their feet, cascaded across their skin, and reached for their mouths--

“S-STOP...!! S-STOP, I’LL CHOKE--” The ruffian begged, petals already pushing at his lips.

“You will stop fighting.” The Flower Magus stated--not suggested--with a smile.

“Y-Yes...!! I-I’m sorry!”

At once, the flowers fell away and vanished. The ruffian, relieved, bowed his head and scrambled away.

“I could have taken him,” the Scorned Knight insisted. “I did not need your assistance.”

“I think that you did,” the Flower Magus said sweetly. “I can sense that there is much turmoil in your heart.”

“I think you are mistaken.” The Scorned Knight scoffed and began to walk away--only to slam into a wall of flowers.

“Take a stroll with me,” the Flower Magus advised. “Let us speak, heart to heart. I want to hear your story, of what ails you and causes you to lash out.”

“Do not strangle me with your accursed flowers, and you have a deal.”

“You have your deal.”

And together, they made their way through the village, making several stops. The Flower Magus materialized her magical blooms, passing them out to whoever looked downtrodden. She left a path of flowers wherever she walked.

The Scorned Knight grimaced. “Why do you waste your magical abilities on such fruitless pursuits?”

“Bringing joy to others is never fruitless,” replied the Flower Magus.

“With talent like yours, you could fell entire armies, conquer whole kingdoms, like I have.”

“A veteran, are you?” She laughed lightly, not a hint of malice in her. “Then, Sir Knight, perhaps you will take pity on this poor, unfortunate soul.”

“You see, Sir Knight, I have been blighted with a curse. Soon, I shall be nothing more than bark and leaves--and when I am gone from this world, I ask of you, as a protector of the innocent, to see that this world continues to see nothing more than peace and prosperity, not bloodshed.”

The Flower Magus produced a daisy from thin air and, with a giggle, tucked it behind the Scorned Knight’s ear.

“Cursed woman, you have accepted your fate,” he realized. “What a fool you are. I, too, bear a curse, and I’d be damned if I let it consume me. I am in search of a means to rescue myself, for I have no allies, no friends to call my own.”

“So you fight against the world,” the Flower Magus mused. “That, too, is a valid feeling--but what a lonely existence you must have, Sir Knight.”

“I do only what is necessary.”

“Would you save a child if they were in danger?”

He scowled, but confessed, “I would, because it contributes to lifting my curse. ‘Be kind, and do good’ is the condition that must be fulfilled.”

“Small steps--you are taking small steps toward cultivating that kindness, and spreading happiness like I have.”

She looked to the sky.

“You and I are not so different when stripped down to our bare bones,” said the Flower Magus. “We cry the same tears and we shed the same blood.”

“You live in the light, and I stir in the shadows,” countered the Scorned Knight. “We are as different as night and day.”

“And yet one cannot exist without the other. That is a testament to the importance of both.”

“You lack sense. It is I that is able to be cured of the curse that burdens me—yet why am I more miserable than you, one who is doomed no matter how much she struggles against her fate?”

“What sense is there to have sense? Lacking sense is nonsensical, but that is the very essence of life itself.”

“You are a strange person.”

“You are as well, Sir Knight.”

They came to a stop at the end of the road.

“Still, I do not think that you are terribly bad. Misunderstood, perhaps--but not bad.” The Flower Magus reached into the air, forming a fist, and brought her hand to the knight’s. “Like a seedling, you remain dormant, waiting for the day when you may be able to be kissed by the sun and the sky. You are a bud yet to fully blossom.”

“You have a chance--to grow, and to nurture, that budding kindness of yours.” She pressed something into his hand--a seed, small but strong. “Never forget that, Sir Knight.”

A strong wind kicked up, bringing with it stray petals. In a flurry of flowers, the Flower Magus was no more. Where she once stood was a tree in full bloom.

The Scorned Knight gazed upon the flowering tree—upon the Flower Magus.

His heart trembled.

And he wept.

[carewyncromwell]

I don't know if you want to talk about this (and feel free to ignore this if you don't want to answer), but I wanted to ask which side of the Ethren mess you're on? I know in the beginning you were on his side, but I've seen so much hate and so many accusations and I don't know what to believe anymore, and I trust your judgement

I have to be honest -- when I first saw that a blog had been created with the specific purpose of “calling out” someone in the HPHM fandom...I blocked it.

I come to this fandom largely to escape from the real world. It’s been one of the few remaining sanctuaries I’ve had during this quarantine and from my own mental health problems. I’ve made a lot of friends in this community, and I feel very strongly about putting out more positive content than negative, as well as trying to digest more positive than negative. I don’t like the thought of a stranger posting stuff online about someone else who -- let’s be honest -- nobody truly knows unless they actually physically know them IRL. Unless one wants to go down an entire rabbit hole of getting to know a person uncomfortably well, there’s not much anyone can do to prove what’s true. And I know it sounds really immature and selfish of me, but...I was never that interested in learning much about this fandom’s members’ personal lives, excluding what the friends I’ve made have been willing to confide in me on a case by case basis. I have plenty of my own drama happening over here on my side, and I just want to have fun roleplaying with people’s characters and making content for both mine and theirs. It’s been one of the few things that helped me fight back my untreated and severe chronic depression after being furloughed from my job thanks to the COVID-19 shutdown. My job had been my escape, and without it, I was drowning -- one of my only life preservers was making content for this blog. So for my own mental health, I shut out the negativity, because I wasn’t emotionally or mentally able to deal with it. And admittedly, it felt to me as though this sort of thing really shouldn’t be handled online when -- again -- this sort of thing seems like it’d be better handled in the real world and the legal system, rather than in the court of mostly anonymous public opinion. And it also feels kind of nasty to reblog content from people online who simply liked the character Ethren Whitecross and made fan content for him, just to harangue them for it. It’s like attacking all Harry Potter fans for being transphobic just because they enjoyed something created by a trans-exclusionary radical feminist -- particularly when in the case of Ethren, the vast majority of us don’t know Ren personally. One could’ve related to Ethren’s story without knowing anything about his creator, and people did, often not because of any kind of malevolent reasons.

After receiving this message, though, I unblocked the blog in question and read some more of their posts. When I’d first blocked it, the only post of theirs I saw in the HPHM tag came across as rather hostile, and combined with Ren’s blog saying that an ex was stalking him, I don’t think it’s unsurprising that some people were initially warded off by it. But reading some of the other stuff written on that blog since...I must acknowledge there’s a lot of troubling stuff there. It made me very upset, and made me kind of regret that I’d initially jumped into making a stance without hearing both sides. But at the same time, considering that someone from outside the fandom had arrived specifically to target someone in the fandom, supposedly on behalf of someone else who also had no ties to the fandom, it looked a lot like cyberbullying to me at the time. Now it’s very clear there’s more to the story, and for that initial leap to judgment, I am sorry. I wasn’t in a place where I understood fully what the discussion was about before I took a side, and that’s something I should know better than to do.

But I think this comes down to, in the end, my answer to your question, regarding sides.

I don’t want to take a side -- because I didn’t come to the HPHM fandom to fight people. I came here to be happy.

I know someone could read this as cowardly and ignorant, but please, understand that I thought long and hard about this. This place has been a safe space for me, and I understand it has been for others as well -- a place where we can go to enjoy art and fanfiction for something we enjoy and roleplay as new, interesting characters with other people who have similar interests and creative leanings. I thoroughly understand that it can’t truly be a safe space if we allow people who would threaten other people’s safety into it, and I also thoroughly understand that people can include problematic aspects of themselves into their characters along with good things (just look at how J.K.’s apparent subliminal views on the LGBT+ community influenced how she’s handled Dumbledore). Both things are definitely things to be aware of, and it’ll be an ongoing struggle to try to propagate a truly welcoming and positive, and yet safe and supportive community. There will always be shadows and dark spots that aren’t easy to see, just like with all fandoms, and it’s good to now and again take the time to examine them.

But to quote a line from one of my favorite songs, “it’s hard to light a candle, easy to curse the dark instead.”  I cannot log onto my computer and into this fandom every day and think about openly attacking someone else, regardless of whether they deserve it or not. This feels like something that the victim should handle herself in the real world, and I truly hope that she finds peace in whatever path she takes. But that is her story to tell, to write, and to play out -- it’s not mine. Mine is a story I have written and am still writing, where I’ve tried to find a way to be happy and be a good person despite everything in my life that has made that so difficult. And so I truly feel the only way I can approach this situation is to not let the things that hurt and drain me have power over my life, and put my energy toward things that build me up instead. I try not to visit tags or places online that could be triggering, and simply enjoy the things I do like. I’ve stopped spending money on things Harry Potter-related because of Jo’s stance on transgender rights, but still engage in the HP fandom and celebrate what is good in the original material and especially what its fandom has made out of it. In this case, I will simply do the same, particularly since from the look of things, Ren’s blog is no longer around for anyone to interact with anyway, positively or not. I’ll engage with blogs whose work I can still enjoy and give me some light when I most need it, and try my best to keep creating more light of my own for others. I will light candles, and little by little, I’d like to think the room will be bright enough that the dark will be significantly smaller and less scary than it was.

I understand if any of you disagree with or are angry about anything I’ve said. I know “playing both sides” is not a great thing to do, and I truly don’t mean to. But I’m afraid I do have to take my own side here, for my own mental and emotional well-being. I responded to this Ask because I felt like saying nothing would’ve truly been the cowardly thing to do, by pretending the issue isn’t there at all. I’m not pretending it isn’t there -- but I do think it’s a battle I’m ill-equipped to engage in, not because of my personal morals, but because I don’t feel emotionally able to play the role of judge, jury, and executioner in this court of public opinion.

[amwritingmeta]

Hello. I don't know if you already made something about it but I wanted to know what is your opinion on Cas/Chuck relation. We saw a lot about Cas loosing his faith in Chuck for a long time now but very little on Chuck's part. I feel like I'm missing something, some sort of closure. Am I the only one?

Hello, my dearling!

I have talked about Cas’ relationship with Chuck, but I do believe it was ages ago, and well before we got Chuck as the Big Bad, so let’s revisit! *fun!!*

The thing about this is that I feel there’s a pattern with them that has everything to do with the “disposable” line fed to Cas in S11. For Cas to believe himself disposable, he can’t have his father figure acknowledge him, which is why they didn’t exchange a word (and barely a glance) once the end of S11 rolled around. 

Add to that the fact that Cas, by S11, had already been so far removed from Heaven and had gotten so much closer to his own humanity and we see how there’s even more reason for why there wouldn’t be a scene between them. We got Lucifer confronting Chuck instead, and I would say there were a lot of Cas’ frustrations with his father baked into Lucifer’s.

Headcanon would be that Cas also had his eyes fully opened to the darker sides of his father’s nature via Luci’s knowledge of Chuck’s motivations: to be worshipped. 

Cas didn’t entirely embrace this knowledge, didn’t entirely believe it, not even when AU!Michael brought the darker sides into the light, underlining their creator’s nonchalance and casual cruelty. It wasn’t until Chuck’s sadistic side finally and truly revealed itself that Cas saw God for what he truly is, and by then Cas had already confronted and beaten back his own Shadow figure enough for him to have no need to personally confront this one.

Chuck killed Jack, but Cas has no drive - not like Dean does - to see Chuck dead over it. Cas holds no vendetta, and he’s clear-eyed enough to see the journey he’s undertaken as the root of his personal growth, not merely an expression of Chuck’s manipulations, providing a beautiful and necessary contrast to how Dean is entertaining an opposite view in that he feels as though all his choices have been pointless and all the pain and suffering has been pushed on him for nothing, and he can’t reconcile himself with the idea that this is only a half-truth, and one that he’s actively choosing to believe in. *gah dean gah!* *because the POV you need to reach through your inner work is the POV that Cas has held ever since Chuck’s true nature was revealed!!* *gah!!*

Now, the transition of Dean as Cas’ marker for humanity, to Cas becoming the marker for humanity for Jack has happened gradually, ever since the beginning of S13, but I do believe the transition is complete. After Cas’ speech in 15x15 it’s hard to think otherwise.

Cas knows who he is, where he belongs, and what he must do: find another way. So that he can save Jack. 

Cas is stepping into his core trait of acting the shield, rather than playing the role of weapon, showing internal balance and a connection to his own priorities that is utterly thrilling! 

Sure, it more or less tells us that there’s no narrative need for human!Cas and, hey, as much as I’ve always wished for that to be what the narrative has been driving him towards, he’s still more human now than he ever was. So he’ll live forever and watch Dean and Sam die and have to go chill with them in their Heavens, so what? That’s fiiiiiiine. 

No, really, as long as they end up not dead, it’s fine.

And I get the strong sense they might not. End up dead. *yay!* I mean, it’s perfectly clear that Dean and Sam will live to fight another day, what with Jensen mentioning the possible probability of bringing the boys back for a six episode smashravaganza in five years or so. But what I mean is: they may not all of them end up dead. Even Jack might live! *happy days!* They might also not all end up together but that’s for other meta to speculate on! I’m more hopeful than ever that we’ll get a balanced ending, though. *g a h*

Anyway: Chuck.

I understand where you’re coming from 100%, but personally I don’t feel the need for there to be an exchange to cap off Cas’ relationship with Chuck, because of all the above mentioned reasons. Make sense? 

Chuck isn’t really figuring that hard in Cas’ progression right now, apart from how he’s affecting Jack. 

Cas has already let go of his earlier need for his father figure to act as a role model. “Because God commanded it” is a long, long time ago. “Give me a sign” is as well. Cas is well beyond these stages of internal confusion. And Chuck the Big Bad, as said, holds no real sway over Cas’ choices anymore. Chuck’s words and deeds no longer serve to inform anything that Cas does, apart from acting as a spur for action, for thinking outside of the box, for tapping into his protectiveness and healthy father figure traits in order to act as a guide to his own son.

In Dean’s progression, however, Chuck is now the ultimate Shadow figure, embodying the final last push for Dean to truly confront himself, look himself in the eye, and let go of the self-hatred, fear and faithlessness. Let go of his need for control and start trusting. Trusting that, in spite of everything, good things do happen and good things can last. If you let yourself feel how much you want them. If you go for it without holding yourself back.

Come on, Dean!!

And this is my reading of this narrative so pinches of salt, but with Jack as representative of Dean’s inner child, it feels pretty bleak if he were to die. And though I can take the Shadow (Chuck) needing to be symbolically eradicated, I remain skeptical, because destruction is not integration... Anyway, more on this in upcoming metas!

I’ll leave you with this: I’m intrigued by how the narrative - which technically means Chuck - has always treated Cas as a secondary character, even though it’s perfectly clear that he’s integral to the growth of Dean, and by proximity Sam as well. Cas now stepping in to find this other way makes sense to me, because I do believe if an unforeseen blow is to be dealt to Chuck, it should come from Cas, whom he’s always sort of overlooked. Even when sitting down to write his ending at Becky’s desk, there’s the Sam and Dean Poppies, yeah? As are two feathers. Sam and Dean presides, as ever, at the forefront, but those feathers, for those of us who love them, are hard to miss.

I hope that answers your question! Bit of spec in there too, but I’m in a speculative mood as I finally watched 15x15 and 15x16 back-to-back last night and oh boy the old cogs are a-turning. :)

Hope you’re well, lovely!

xx

[ann-stay]

Brown soft light, fighting the dark shadows-Seungmin

Warnings/au: sadness, angst (?), soft, idk I wrote this ages ago but enjoy!

Please Note: this used to be a W**j*n story however due to recent events I no longer support him, if I’ve missed a part in here where I’ve used his name and didn’t change it please let me know.

She pushed herself away from the desk and slide in the chair to the other side of the room. Groaning, she stood and exited the plain room. She headed to the kitchen for something good, something that could ease her frustration.

It had been like this for a few days, her continuously having to leave her laptop out of anger and frustration. She just couldn't write. She wasn't burnt out, no, she'd already recovered from that. She had major writer's block. Every idea that came to her head didn't flow nicely, nor could she put it into words on the screen.

All knowledge of writing had left her the past few days and it annoyed her to the point where she could break down. She was an online author, so updates were vital to her work. Without updates, she couldn't get views, without views, she didn't get paid. She questioned why she chose such a difficult path.

Swinging the fridge open she grabbed the chocolate and slammed the door shut. She hopped onto the kitchen bench and let her legs hang. It was her favourite thing to do, sit there and think. The bench was surprisingly comfortable and bought a warm homey feeling. She'd done this since she was little.

Taking a bite from the chocolate she looked about her apartment. It was a medium-sized apartment that she lived alone in. Although, her boyfriend would sleep over most nights when he was free. Which he wasn't often, but he made the time.

As far as a normal human could see, her life was good. Dream job, good boyfriend, nice apartment. It was perfect. But it wasn't. She struggled much more then anyone would be able to see. She had struggled with her own mind since she was a young girl. It got to the point, she could hide it from everyone-including the people that were closest to her.

Heck-she'd even isolate herself for a bit and people still wouldn't notice. All except one. Unfortunately, (or fortunately, as she would think) she had gotten better hiding it from said person.

It was scary for her to hide it though. The one person willing to help and that notices everything-she shuts out his help. Every moment she does she knows it hurts him. She hates that. She hates hurting him. So, she continues. Continues to cut him out more and more, hoping that he'll leave and find a better person.

But she doesn't want him to leave. She wants to curl up in his arms and stay there forever. She wants that warmth, love, and support. She wants to feel happy and content.

However, every waking happy moment she has it always turns bad. A light shower of rain, enough to even see a rainbow, suddenly turning into a raging storm that could tear lives apart. But she loves the rain.

The sound of it hitting the glass window. The cold calm feeling it brings with it. The way she would have to wear a sweater every time it rains so she can be comfy and warm. Drinking hot chocolate and watching the droplets fall.

"I don't deserve it..." she mumbled.

The chocolate fell from her hand onto the bench space beside her. A few tears pricking at her eyes as every dark thought seeped their way into her mind. Lacing her brain with its toxins. The plague of the mind. Except this plague is deadlier. Killing someone with a voice in their head. Killing them slowly as they still live. Yet they don't live. They are alive, but they aren't living. As if death himself inhabited them.

A sob escapes her mouth, getting off the bench, making sure she doesn't fall. Her back sliding down the cupboard doors. She pulls her knees as close to her chest as she can, her chubby body making it hard to hug them comfortably.

More sobs leave her trembling lips. Furiously wiping the bucket loads of tears. The lump in her throat making the crying just the more painful. Though she manages to shut them up, the tears were the only thing to show for her breakdown.

The lump in her throat grows, an empty yet full stomach of emotion. Pain. That's all she feels. She didn't know what pain it was. It was like the world had come crashing down even if it hadn't. A feeling that you'd get when you were having fun and then all that happiness was sucked out of you. Exhaustion. Yet it was way more complex and stronger than those feelings. It was a feeling you'd have to experience to understand but a feeling no one should ever experience or understand.

She wanted to scream.

She wanted it to end.

...

Keys rattled.

...

A door clicked, unlocking.

The girl stood quickly and rushed to the bathroom. Forcing her tears away. Rubbing at her face rapidly. Wash, towel, wash towel-repeat a million times. She looked at herself in the mirror.

"Hey, babe?" Her boyfriend called out.

"In the bathroom! I'll be out in a second!" She shouted back.

She smiled a few times, trying to get her face into a 'normal' position rather than one that looks exhausted and broken. The door opened and she stepped out.

"Where are you?" She asked.

"Just in the kitchen," he replied.

She followed his voice and found him taking a bite of her chocolate that was left on the bench. She smiled. He was too cute.

"Come here~ I missed you so much," he whined.

The girl laughed at him before walking over and getting engulfed in a warm hug.

"I missed you too Bubba~"

The boy chuckled at her, lifting her up onto the bench. He stood between her legs and held her at her waist. Her arms rested around his neck, playing with the back of his hair absentmindedly. Their eyes locked and the once happy smile on his face was replaced by a frown and furrowed brows.

"What's wro-"

"You've been crying."

"No, I haven't."

He looked at her, raising his brow.

"You think I don't notice these things?" he asked.

"Notice what things?" She asked, trying to act innocent.

"Things such as your face being slightly red in parts. When you cry your lips get red in patches. Your nose and cheeks also have red patches. Your eyes are slightly glossed over because you can never get the tears all out. Heck, your eyes don't match your smile...babe, what's wrong?"

She lost it. The tears instantly fell, the same world crashing feeling returned. Her head hit his shoulder/neck area and she sobbed, arms wrapping around him tighter. He was taken back for a split second, quickly recovering and pulling her closer.

He whispered sweet nothings into her ear, rubbing her back to comfort her. Her pain, so strong, it filled the apartment to the point her boyfriend could feel it. Like a dark shadow flowing off her body and covering everything. The homey feeling disappearing, replaced with emptiness.

He hated it. Not what his girlfriend had caused but what she was going through. He knew she was pushing him away. He knew that she knew it hurt him. But he also knew that all she needed was some space. He wasn't new to this.

Her isolating herself. In fact, it was good for her to a certain point. The isolation was her recharge. But at some point, in the recharge she always hits, so to say, a malfunction. A percentage where she was so close to being good yet so far.

In this time, he knew to be there for her. To hug her and support her. Not to ask what's wrong but to be there for her. If she needs to talk about it, she will-after asking if it's okay to talk with him a million times.

The sobbing quietened. Soon it stopped. His shirt drenched, but he could care less. A weight lifted from his shoulder. His eyes met her tired and broken ones. They said something, an apology. An apology from breaking down, for being weak, for possibly ruining his shirt, for the toxicity, ruining their night and so much more.

But in his eyes, they held forgiveness and care. He forgave her for everything she apologised for, whether she should've apologised for it or not. He cared about her more then she knew.

She did know though. She just couldn't understand or accept it fully.

They rested their foreheads together, soft breathes tickling each other's faces.

"The voices returned..." she mumbled, eyes closed.

He studied her now calm features, the way her soft lips moved.

"What were they saying this time?"

"Everything."

She opened her glossy eyes and stared into his. No one said anything. They just stared at each other, holding one another close together.

And soon enough, the warmth returned. Her boyfriend's warmth started radiating onto her and their apartment. A soft brown light battling the dark shadow. A sad smile appeared on the girl's face. Then a happy one on her boyfriends.

"You know, your eyes are really cute. And the small scar on your lips is adorable~" He cooed.

A blush etched its way on her cheeks.

"Oh, shush it."

They both laughed.

"Do you want to know something?" She asked.

"Hm?" he hummed in response.

"You, Mr. Kim Seungmin, are the best boyfriend in the world. My Bubba."

She scrunched her face up and squished his cheeks between her hands. Seungmin laughed widely, finding it cute how her face and nose scrunched.

"And you, Ms. Kim, are the best girlfriend in the world. My adorable koala bear."

He returned the favour and squished her cheeks. The girl flushed red and groaned, pushing his hands away.

"Yah! I'm not Ms. Kim...yet. And I'm not a Koala! What are you doing home anyway? I thought you had a meeting?" She asked.

"Soon you'll be, and I can call you a Koala because you sleep a lot and are from Australia. But anyway, Chan canceled it because half of the boys are sick," Seungmin explained.

He placed his hands back onto her waist but holding her closer still. His girlfriends face turned from happy flushed to concerned.

"Why didn't you text me?! We need to go over there so I can help take care of them! I can't believe you left Chan and the others by themselves-" She jumped off the bench and move around frantically looking for her shoes- "They can barely take care of themselves when they aren't sick! Hurry-"

Seungmin hugged her from behind, stopping her from moving.

"No."

"What do you mean 'no' mister. Your friends are sick and I'm worried!"

"I said no. We are staying here together. If Chan needs help, he'll text me-or you. He always messages you first in an emergency remember?"

The girl groaned and nodded.

"Fine..."

"Yay! Now let's cuddle!"

He picked her up, causing her to squeak, and carried her to their bed. He sat on the bed and moved under the cover, still holding his girlfriend.

"Hey! You can't just-"

Seungmin placed a soft, loving kiss on her lips. She smiled and melted into the kiss. When they pulled apart Seungmin had a smirk on his lips.

"Meanie, you can't just shut me up by kissi-"

He kisses her once again. But this time when they pull back, she rolls her eyes at him and turns to face her back against his chest. She cuddles closer to him, pulling his arms around her more, loving the feeling of the warmth.

He laughed at her, nuzzling his face into her shoulder/neck area. Causing giggles to erupt from her at the tickling feeling. Happiness and warmth filled them both.

The storm that was raging moments ago now calm and showing rainbows. The toxic thoughts and feelings now flew far away, unable to hurt either one of them.

There they cuddled, in the middle of the bed wrapped in blankets. Nothing playing. No music, no talking, no sound. Just their breathing and the small kisses here and there. The room was dim as the light faded and the street outside lit it up. It had started to rain, the droplets hitting the window, creating that amazing sound.

Seungmins arms were wrapped tightly around his girlfriend. Loving her squishy, slightly chubby and small figure. The girl rested her head on his chest, her hands resting on top of his. Focus wandering. She soon drifted into a peaceful, content and happy sleep.

Her boyfriend watched her. He noticed the small things. Like the way she blinks with her eyes closed, an indication she was having a dream. The way she would make some expressions like the ones in her dreams. Or how her jaw had to be clenched shut, a habit she made as a kid out of fear of chomping on her tongue by accident.

He noticed how her cheeks flushed red when her body temperature was too high or when it was way too cold. And he even noticed how, when she has a deep sleep her lips get plumper.

He loved her with his whole heart and soul. He noticed all the details and little things. He loved how happy she'd look and feel when he pointed them out as well. It showed her that he cared a lot about her.

He smiled happily, lifting one of his hands up to play with some of her curls that had fallen free from her bun. He chuckled, watching it bounce back into place. He removed her hair tie carefully. Massaging her scalp and playing with her hair.

Soon enough, Seungmin found himself falling into a deep sleep as well.