#Waiting For Rain 2021 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fuckyeahisawthat · 4 months ago

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Please, talk about the Gom Jobbar scene

Oh hell yes.

So this is one of those posts that really should be a short video essay of me talking over the scene but instead it is gonna be a loooooong wall of text and screenshots. Maybe it will assume its final form some day if I'm ever in possession of the free time and patience to make video essays. I also highly recommend watching Denis Villeneuve's own breakdown of this scene from 2021. I'll try not to duplicate things said there.

We have to start with the setup, which begins with this scene:

We see Jessica on her knees, in the rain, waiting for an arriving ship. These are the first shots in the movie where we see Jessica when no one else is watching her, and this woman who stood calm and composed before representatives of the Emperor of the Known Universe is terrified. Which creates an immediate sense of dread over whoever is coming in that ship.

Whomst in the fuck now?

We also get this shot where we're alone with Jessica. It's a little hard to see in a still frame but there's a moment where she, like, steels herself before she wakes Paul up.

Holy fuck tho, I just noticed the similarities between this shot and the one of the Bene Gesserit arriving, with the almost monochromatic color palette and the shafts of white light.

Once Paul wakes up we shift to his POV. He immediately knows something is off ("What's wrong?" is the first thing he says) but gets no information about what's happening.

Then we get this short scene, where Paul is told he is going to meet the Reverend Mother and but not much else about what's going on. The whole "She wants to know about your dreams." "How does she know about my dreams?" [no answer from Jessica] exchange, I think, implies that she knows because Jessica told her about Paul's dreams, which is this little tiny betrayal of confidence that gives Paul the first inclination that his mother may not be someone he can fully trust in this situation. Which is exactly what Dr. Yueh warns him about immediately after.

We also get two new languages used in this scene. Dr. Yueh speaks to Paul in Mandarin, which he understands and presumably Jessica does not. This gives us a piece of information about Paul's curiosity toward other cultures and his facility with languages. And Jessica uses the Atreides battle sign, which Paul also understands. Outside the library, Jessica pauses to give Paul one more silent warning, although she still hasn't told him what's about to happen.

This is just the setup. So before we've even entered the room, we've created this sense of unsettled foreboding dread (the Denis Signature Vibe) without a clear understanding of why things are happening--which is exactly how Paul feels.

I should also add that in the book, this scene takes place during the day, with the Reverend Mother sitting in front of a window. Shifting it to the middle of the night not only makes it way creepier but also tells us that (1) the Reverend Mother is the kind of person who can command Jessica's attention at any time of day or night and (2) this is all somewhat illicit and possibly is happening without Leto's knowledge.

Whomst in the fuuuuuuck?

We get this sort of weird POV shot of Paul crossing the room when it's not actually happening:

which I think is supposed to suggest some subtler form of control than the Voice, which Paul resists.

Before they've even properly entered the room, Mohiam manages to insult both Paul's parents ("defiance in the eyes, like his father" and dismissing Jessica with a curt "leave us"). And the first thing Paul says is to defend his mother's place in the social hierarchy ("You dismiss my mother in her own house?") with all the haughtiness you would expect.

The power dynamic gets rapidly clarified.

Momentary aside to say that I love the composition of this shot. Neither of them are quite on the third--they're just a bit too close to each other to make the shot look balanced. But neither of them are in center frame either--the box is in the center. They're not exactly aligned to the light gray columns between the bookshelves behind them, either, and the bookshelves are just slightly asymmetrical. It all makes things feel just a little claustrophobic and unsettling. Denis Villeneuve frequently uses this technique of creating unbalanced shots and intentionally leaving too much space in awkward parts of the frame to create a sense of unease.

Paul isn't kneeling in the book either--he's standing beside the chair in a setup that I don't think would actually work given the heights of the actors here, or would look awkward as hell. So they've solved a practical blocking problem and done some storytelling with it as well.

This is where we get our first look at the Voice at full power, and it's one of only two scenes where we get some subjective POV of what it feels like to be Voice-controlled (the other one being Feyd-Rautha and Lady Margot's interaction which deserves its own post). I really like that they didn't go for Voice Slow (zombie shuffling across the room) because Voice Fast is much more disturbing. The subjective experience of it seems closest to like, blacking out and waking up in a place or doing a thing and not knowing how you got there. The camera effect is just a really fast dolly and a slick edit, but Timothée really sells it with his split-second moment of confusion and shock before he realizes what happened and gets angry about it.

So now we're here, with the poison needle and the pain box.

"No need to call the guards. Your mother stands behind that door. No one would get past her."

This is a slick fucking piece of editing. Because just as Paul is learning that his mother has not only trapped him in this situation but is ensuring it continues uninterrupted, we cut to Jessica for the first time since she left the room and we see how absolutely terrified she is.

Also from this point, the sound in the film starts crossing the barrier of the door--we hear some of the dialogue between Paul and Mohiam when we're on shots of Jessica, and when the pain sound effect starts up, we hear it continuously on both sides of the door. So even though Jessica is not literally experiencing the pain, it feels like she is vicariously.

It would be really easy to tip the balance of sympathy in this scene one way or the other--toward Paul who's realizing his mother has handed him over to a painful and potentially lethal test, or toward Jessica who is listening to her child scream in pain and not only cannot stop it but is tasked with making sure it continues. But Denis Villeneuve is an absolute master at controlling and directing your POV in a way that allows you to feel sympathy for multiple characters at once and engage with complicated, contradictory emotional landscapes, and this is a little demonstration of what he's going to do on a much larger scale later in the story.

Timothée's pain acting...is excellent, that's all I'll say about that. Love that he's allowed to get all gross and drippy with it.

Now we get to the litany against fear.

Jessica starts it specifically in response to hearing Paul scream on the other side of the door. So, practically, she is using it to control her own fear. But the way the scene is intercut, it plays as if she is almost coaching or guiding Paul into controlling his own reactions. With every line that she says, we cut back to Paul as he is starting to master the situation.

"I must not fear." Paul is not in control here and seems about at his physical limit for keeping his hand in the box.

"Fear is the mind-killer." This is the one where it really seems like he could be reciting the same litany in his head or under his breath.

"Fear is the little death that brings obliteration." We don't really see Paul's face in the accompanying shot, but the pain sound effect really goes into overdrive, like she is pushing him harder.

"I will face my fear and I will permit it to pass over me and through me." Seems like Paul is getting to some kind of Zen place or whatever where he can withstand the pain.

This is when the first flash of vision pops up and the balance of power starts to shift in Paul's favor. We realize it at the same time both he and the Reverend Mother do.

Then we have this great moment where he looks up at her and we don't quite know what is happening but somehow Paul has started to win this interaction. And we go through a whole Face Journey with him that's intercut increasingly rapidly with Jessica's lines, flashes of the visions, and Mohiam's reaction as she starts to realize she's lost control of the situation.

"And when it has gone past--"

"I will turn the inner eye to see its path--"

"--and where the fear has gone, there will be nothing--"

"Only I will remain."

This part is great because like...nothing is happening. He just looks up at her. But we know that whatever battle is going on between them, Paul is winning now.

(Side note: this is a duel, right? This is his first of three duels, and like the duel with Feyd, he wins it on his knees.)

Then as soon as she says, "Enough," the facade cracks again a little.

And then he does the thing!! That is one of my favorite Paul physicalities!! Where he tilts his chin up so he can look down his nose at someone. Which is particularly audacious when you're on your knees.

It looks arrogant but there's also something a bit...childish? about it. It's something that he does specifically when he feels he does not have control of the situation and he's trying to regain it. He does it to the Emperor at the end of Part Two.

Anyway I LOVE the whole section of intercutting between Jessica and Paul because like. They are physically separated by a door but emotionally they feel connected. She put him in this situation, but then it's almost like she is reminding him that she also gave him the training to survive it. Which like, isn't that a microcosm of their whole fucked-up relationship?

"...You inherit too much power."

"What, because I'm a duke's son?"

"Because you are Jessica's son. You have more than one birthright, boy."

Almost all the dialogue from this scene is taken word for word from the book (although sometimes condensed). This is one of the few lines that got changed. In the book, Jessica is the one who reminds Paul that he is a duke's son--not her son. In general the movie dialogue is more faithful to what's in the book than you might expect. But every once in a while there is a line that feels like it's talking back to the original text like this.

There's another little emotional reversal right at the end of the scene, when Jessica comes in and her face just floods with relief at realizing Paul is still alive. But meanwhile you can see that Paul is really processing how betrayed by her he feels.

And then, after all that, they do talk about his dreams.

Denis has said in interviews that this was one of the very first scenes they filmed. Which is. Insane to me. This is an iconic scene from the book that every fan will come to with expectations and it's a really hard acting job! For everyone involved but especially for Timothée, because so much of the scene turns on him having an intense reaction to something that's not real and generally just...doing stuff with his face, and hoping that the sound design and the score and some scenes that haven't been shot yet will sell what's going on. Usually you would want to work up to an intense emotional scene like this, give the cast and crew a little time to get comfortable with each other. Nope! Anyway Denis has also said that he knew after this scene that he had cast correctly and yeah. I would say so.

#asks answered #dune #dune 2021 #paul atreides #lady jessica #denis villeneuve #timothée chalamet #scene breakdown #thank you for prompting me to take so many screenshots of timmy's pain faces that was fun

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kirschteinoir · 6 months ago

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you're here, that's the thing.

post-timeskip osamu miya x reader.

❝ he dashed past the lunchtime rush and damn near into the middle of the road before turning sharply right to cower in the shade of the alleyway beside the shop - his secret place of respite. he brought his other hand, not yet blessed by you, to cover his eyes as he waited for his cheeks to cool and his heartbeat to become steady again.

this was going to be a long summer. ❞

when life in the city becomes overwhelming, your grandmother decides to sign you up for a summer in the countryside working at onigiri miya, the best onigiri place this side of hyogo! you're not the biggest fan of the early starts and long hot days at first, but your attractive new boss may change your mind...

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘶𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘯𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘩𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯!!!, 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴, 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘶, 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 2021 𝘰𝘭𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘴, 𝘣𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘹 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘰-𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘶 𝘪𝘴 23/24 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦

status; completed

cross-posted on ao3 here.

I. old april wanes, and her last dewy morn.

II. you are as welcome as the flowers in may

III. it was june, and the world smelled of roses.

IV. july, with its days of blue skies and time that seemingly stands still, holds a special place in my heart.

V. august rain - the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born.

about me.

#haikyuu #haikyu #haikyuu x reader #miya osamu #osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x you #haikyuu x you #osamu fluff #haikyuu fic #hq x you #hq fanfic

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moonlightsdream · 3 months ago

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FILMS in 2024: 77 | Waiting for Rain 비와 당신의 이야기 (2021) — dir. Jo Jin Mo

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haosweater · 6 months ago

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waiting in the rain

content: student! seonghwa x gn! reader, fluff, angst. inspired by my neighbour totoro’s setting. warnings: mentions and descriptions of death, some swearing, description of a panic attack.

summary: you and seonghwa were determined to get out of the dreary town you lived in and move to the city. unfortunately, sometimes things just don’t go as planned.

word count: 3.3k

note: another angst with hwa in it… no, i do not enjoy making hwa stans feel pain. i enjoy hurting everyone. get it right. (i started this back in 2021 and finished it today so it’s not proof read. forgive me)

it was raining again.

staring up at the sky, you hold your umbrella steadily. the transparent film allowed you to see how beautiful the sky was. white clouds float by slowly, their mystical tears staining the earth as a reminder of their ethereal presence.

your small village was close knit, but sometimes, suffocating. the villagers led humble lives as farmers, carpenters, florist, bus drivers– everyone was content with their simple lives. well, everyone except you and—

“y/n!”

you crane your neck to the right and smile. the rain patters gently against your skin, puddles surrounding you. there was not a single car in sight, the delightful smell of rain in the air. nature thrived in your small town– your home.

that pink hair is a familiar yet comforting sight. it’s accompanied with the scent of honey and mint, a melodic voice that would make even the coldest of hearts melt. his eyes shone like the fireflies at night, smile as sweet as the flowers in his parent’s own garden. park seonghwa was the definition of perfection. well, at least to you, he was.

you and seonghwa had this little habit that everyone in the village knew about.

every morning before school, you would meet him at the bus stop behind the small stream near your house. it had been that way ever since you were five; holding hands as you walk to school merrily, basking in each other’s warm presence.

“seonghwa!” you shouted, waving at him enthusiastically as he ran up and hugged you tight. “i’ve been waiting for like, more than y en minutes, where were you?”

seonghwa giggles. “sorry! i took a shortcut that joong suggested, but it took longer than i expected.”

you feign annoyance, huffing as you crossed your arms. “come on, y/n,” he whines. “forgive me, please? i have a special place to bring you to today.”

“what is it?” you ask, curiosity getting the best of you. seonghwa grins, putting a finger against his lips. “a secret? really, hwa?” you roll your eyes.

“be patient,” he nags, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the forest. you can’t help but smile, looking adoringly at your best friend.

seonghwa pulled you through the forest, helping you climb the slopes swiftly. the sounds of critters and bugs filled the air, fitting for the environment you were in. it was a peaceful journey, enjoying each other’s presence, basking in the warm sunlight. a comforting feeling filled your heart, putting a smile on your face.

you trudged across the river carefully as seonghwa laughed, splashing water at you. “hey!” you shouted, sending a splash of water his way as he shrieked. “get back here, park seonghwa!”

“catch me if you can!” he stuck his tongue out at you childishly. scooping a handful of water up, you chase after the boy, water dripping down your arms. many would fail to believe you were both almost eighteen.

tossing the water at him, you giggle in delight when he yelps, trying to run off. “oh gosh, that’s cold,” he shivers as you scoff, dismissing him.

“stop being so dramatic, hwa. you’re not going to die,” you lament as he laughs, shaking his head. “anyways, where’s this place you wanted to bring me to?”

“right here.”

you follow his gaze, and gasp in awe. the sight before you is absolutely gorgeous– an entire field of forget-me-nots. the small, baby blue flowers swayed gently in the wind, as if putting on a dance for you.

“oh my god, hwa,” you can feel the grin on his face. “this is beautiful.”

he takes your hand, fingers intertwining with yours to pull you along. “come,” he encourages you with the gentlest voice ever. “there’s so much more to see.”

the field of flowers smelt like heaven to you. it was as if you were in heaven. you weren’t complaining– seonghwa was your guardian angel and really the only person you needed in this life.

“oh, is is absolutely magical,” you say, spinning around. “how on earth did you find this place?” you ask as he giggles. oh, his giggle is a soft melody that prances in the wind like a dandelion. it’s soft, sweet, ethereal– you wanted to bathe in it forever.

his smile is a breath of fresh air. “i just happened to stumble upon it one day after school. it’s like another world, isn’t it?” his gazes into the horizon with a smile. he looks down at you, eyes filled with care and love. “i don’t know how i got so lucky.”

you blush at those words, quickly looking away. seonghwa truly knew how to render you speechless. before you could process anything further, seonghwa grabbed your hand and pulled you along.

“dance with me, y/n!”

it was like you were dreaming. your feet moved clumsily along with seonghwa’s, trying to keep up. he held your hand and spun you around, giggling as you held onto his arms tightly. “don’t drop me!” you squeak as he dipped you down.

his face was extremely close as he leaned to press his forehead against you. “i’d never even dream of dropping you,” as you bathed in the warmth of the sun. you never wanted to wake up from this dream.

after prancing around in the flower field for a few hours, giggling and whispering sweet nothings to each other, you and seonghwa had to part ways.

“must you go?” you ask, a hint of sadness in your voice.

he gives you a soft, yet sad smile. “it’s okay, y/n,” he caress your cheek with the back of his hand. “i’ll see you again soon.” he pulls you into a hug and you melt into it, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. he smelled like vanilla and strawberries, a sweet concoction that made you dizzy with delight.

you pull away and try to mask your disappointment with a smile. he chuckles, ruffling your hair in a playful manner.

slinging your bag over your shoulder, you turn and wave to him. the boy waves back, walking further and further down the road. even after the pink of his hair disappears into the fog, you stare into the abyss.

“y/n?”

you spin around, surprised by the two voices you hear behind you. “oh! joong! yunho!” you smile as they wave at you. “what are you guys doing here?”

the blue haired male shrugged, stealing some chips from the taller boy who sent him a glare. “hey, y/n. school ended early today so we were on our way to that new cafe that opened,” yunho explained, offering you some chips.

“oh, shit, wait a minute,” hongjoong grumbled as he fished through his bag hurriedly. “we got our exam results today.”

yunho snickered at the elder male’s frantic behaviour. “our poor class president here was tasked to hand you your papers,” he nudged hongjoong who threw him a glare.

“where were you today, y/n?” hongjoong asked, handing you a stack of papers. “you got the highest marks for literature again,” he winked at you, pushing his thick-framed glasses up.

yunho sighs. “yeah, and i failed math. again,” he kicks a rock into the stream, watching as it sinks. “fantastic.”

you giggle “i was out in the forest with seonghwa the whole day,” you grin at the two boys. “we ended up venturing deeper past the stream and found a whole field of forget-me-nots.”

the taller male shoots you a confused look, shoving his hand into the packet of chips. hongjoong sighs and glances behind you. “y/n–”

“oh! i need to get home!” you glance at your watch. “my parents are going to kill me if i’m out past curfew. see you guys tomorrow!” you shout while running off as hongjoong let out a deep sigh.

“what on earth was she talking about? is she still…?” yunho’s voice trailed off.

hongjoong looks up at him, unsure. “yeah. i don’t know how to… i don’t…” he sighs yet again as yunho pats his shoulder.

“we’ll figure it out, hyung,” the brunette says softly. “it’ll take time, you of all people should know that.”

the older male can only bite his lip and nod, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. he knew all too well. truth be told, he hated that he knew it.

it’ll take time.

the next day, you woke up excitedly, hoping it would be a sunny morning. the soft pitter patter of rain disappointed you, but still, you got up.

you still got up.

as you got dressed, you texted seonghwa, informing him that you would be waiting at the bus stop. it was sort of dreary, really. that road was particularly hard to navigate in the rain, but you both knew it well enough– it was the road you trudged along every day.

opening your umbrella, you bid farewell to your parents before skipping out the door. the rain didn’t diminish your spirits. sure, a thick coat of melancholy rested upon your soul, but your heart reigned over it.

you skipped over puddles, skillfully avoiding the splashes cars speeding by created. humming a soft tune, you looked up at the sky with a smile. everything was going to be okay, as long as seonghwa was there. you knew it’d be okay.

as you approach the bus stop, you spot a figure standing near it. with a grin, you begin to walk faster, calling out your friend’s name. the rain was a extremely persistent, however, easily overpowering your voice. you inhaled a deep breath, ready to shout his name again, but stop.

instead of the usual pink hair, you see a head of blue.

hongjoong.

“what are you doing here, joong?” you ask, approaching slowly. he doesn’t reply, and you think he hadn’t heard you.

so you move even closer, about to call out to him again. it’s only when you kick a puddle of water, drenching your shoes that you realise hongjoong is standing in the rain, absolutely drenched. “hongjoong!” you stand up and grab his wrist. “you’re going to get sick!”

before you can do anything, he pulls you towards him instead. dropping your umbrella, you feel the rain begin to soak you, the cold feeling of water dripping down your skin engulfing you whole.

you let out a gasp, about to glare at the boy, but don’t. hongjoong was crying.

“j-joong?” you stutter out in shock. “what’s going on? why are you crying?”

“i’m sorry.”

hongjoong’s voice comes out as a whisper. he sounds so small, so meek, so timid– it genuinely terrifies you. never had hongjoong shown such a vulnerable side of himself.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he wails, knees giving out. “i’m sorry, y/n– it’s all my fault, i’m so sorry.”

his nails dig into your skin as he gasps for air. confused, you were trying to make sense of what hongjoong was saying. what was his fault?

what had hongjoong done that weighed so painfully on his conscious? why was such a bitter confession slipping off his tongue, to fill only your ears? a deep, profoundly vile feeling filled your throat.

your vision strayed from hongjoong.

when did the path look so dreary? so dark and lonely? this road was one that had filled your memories with joy, comfort, love and warmth. the sight of your best friend running down the gravel, careful to not slip clouded your mind. his pink hair bounced softly, his mere presence more radiating than the sun itself. the droplets of rain running down his face, that contagious, goofy grin of his— that was what you saw when you looked down this road, and yet… and yet it looked so different now. what had changed—

“he’s not coming back, he’s gone— he’s dead, y/n, and it’s all my fault!’

hongjoong’s wails startle you slightly. you’d never heard him sound so broken like that. “what are you talking about, hongjoong?” you say ever-so gently, taking his calloused hands into yours. he is almost inconsolable, his sobs and wails echoing alongside the soft pattering of rain.

the blue-haired boy looked up at you, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “seonghwa is gone, y/n,” hongjoong’s voice is raspy, dry and aching. “please, y/n, you have to realise that he is gone.”

you sigh, rubbing your thumb gently over his knuckles. pushing his hair back, he sobs even harder. you allow him to muzzle his face into the crook of your neck, his tears staining your skin. the clouds thundered and roared at you both, as denial seeped deep into your veins.

no, seonghwa wasn’t gone.

“oh, joong, he’s not gone,” you whisper, stroking his head gently. “he’s taking the shortcut you showed him here–”

“no, y/n– he dead!”

hongjoong’s voice rang in your ear as he pushed you back. you look at him, the way he trembled from the cold. “he fell into the river along the shortcut i showed him and drowned, y/n! he’s dead!”

everything was a blur for a moment. the world went silent. the rain ceased. even hongjoong disappeared. nothing seemed to matter, except processing what he had just said.

seonghwa was dead.

“n-no,” you stutter out, a migraine beginning to form at the side of your head. “no, joong, you must be mistaken,” you blurt out, laughing nervously. “i just saw hwa yesterday–”

“y/n, please,” joong begged, holding your hands tightly. “he died last month, y/n, you need to accept that. he’s gone.

flashbacks. a flurry of memories came crashing onto you at the speed of light as you winced, grabbing your head in pain. the funeral, the crying, the coldness, the pain, the loneliness, the grief– it all came crashing down.

“no,” you whispered, clawing at your scalp. “no, no, no, hwa,” you gasped as hongjoong sobbed. “oh my god, no, this can’t be!” you shout, looking at your friend, hoping this was just a sick joke.

the look on his face told you it wasn’t.

staring at him, your body felt numb yet completely overwhelmed at the same time. your heart pounded against your chest, words stuck at the back of your throat. you didn’t know what to say, nor what to do.

so you ran.

hongjoong’s voice trailed off as you sped down the forest path. you ran as fast as your feet could carry you. as you passed the river, you glance at it, the image of seonghwa’s face flashing in your mind. you wince, tears streaming down your face as you pulled your gaze away.

you continued to run. the sounds of twigs snapped under your weight, leaves rustled as you ran through the woods. your chest heaved as you struggled to breathe, completely exhausted.

and yet, you kept running. you refused to stop. you refused to stop until you saw it. you refused to stop until you got to–

you stopped.

the flower field.

“seonghwa!” you shouted, tears streaming down your cheeks. you were breathless, sweat dripping down your forehead. “park seonghwa!”

the desperation laced in your voice was heart-wrenching. it was raw and scratchy, and painful. you spun from left to right, praying that when you turned around, seonghwa would be standing there, alive and well.

unfortunately, you only got half of what you wished for.

seonghwa stood before you. pink hair, pink lips, soft and kind eyes– indeed, that was park seonghwa.

but he was not alive.

you cannot stand to look at him. you choke back a sob, hand clamping over your mouth as you turn away. you knew that if you looked at him, you wouldn’t be able to control your tears.

“you have to let me go, y/n.”

it’s funny how his words sounded so different despite its familiarity. you turn to your left and stare at the pink haired boy who smiles, tears streaming down his ghostly pale cheeks.

“you need to let me go.”

damp cheeks. quivering lips. fists clenched so hard, they turned white. the air was still, tension thick. it was hard to breathe. you held seonghwa’s hands tightly, worried that he’d slip away the moment you let go.

“how can i?” you whisper, tears blurring your vision. “i can’t let you go, hwa. not when i’ve spent my whole life with you. how do i live this new life when all i’ve known is one with you?”

the boy smiles. it’s a sad, pitiful smile. you hate it. “you need to, y/n. i’ll always be here– in the trees, the flowers, the breeze,” he trails off. “in your heart.”

“but i need you here with me,” you sob. “how am i to go on without you? i’d wait in the rain for you forever, hwa. i cannot live without you.”

the tears that rolled down hwa’s cheeks shone like stars. “you’ll have to learn, y/n. time will heal you,” his breath is shaky and uncertain. “i’m sorry,” he whispers, hands cupping your cheeks.

you shake your head, putting your hands over his. “no, don’t apologise. please,” you beg, looking up at him. you stared into his eyes, biting your lip to stop it from trembling.

his thumb brushes against your lip gently, eyebrows furrowed. “don’t do that,” he whispered. “you’re hurting yourself.”

your grip on his shirt tightened as you stare into his eyes. god, how could fate be so cruel? why would the gods curse you with such tragic destiny?

the boy wiped your tears away, his own tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. you nuzzled your face into his hands, your gaze filled with desperation and desire.

with that, seonghwa swooped down and kissed you.

you held onto him tightly, kissing him back with the desperation that clung to you so desperately. he tasted divine– like white chocolate and strawberries.

you could feel his tears fall, your own following suite, but you refused to pull away. this is something you had wanted for the longest time, and you weren’t about to let it slip away.

alas, all good things have to end. you panted, forehead pressed against his. “don’t go, hwa,” you plead. “please.”

he lets out a sad laugh, pressing a kiss to your forehead in an attempt to console you. “i have to, y/n,” he hums. “i’ll see you again soon, okay?”

you look up frantically at the sight of seonghwa fading away. “no! hwa, please, please!” you cry out, grasping onto him.. “what about all our plans, hwa? to leave this place? to get an apartment in the city? to live our life to the fullest together forever? what about all that?”

seonghwa was full on sobbing now, trying to hold onto you as well. “i’m sorry, y/n. i’m sorry, please hold me,” he begged and you hugged him tightly. “i love you, y/n,” he confesses. “god, i love you. you are the light of my life– my god-given solace. you’re my soulmate, y/n, and i’m so, so sorry. please forgive me– god, please.”

“seonghwa,” you whimper, holding onto him as he finally faded away. he had become one with the wind, the earth, the water– he was gone.

park seonghwa, your best friend, soulmate, and love of your life, was gone.

you let out a chocked sob, knees giving way as you fell to the ground. your pants were soaked with rain water and mud, but you couldn’t be bothered.

“i didn’t get to tell you i love you too.”

as the rain began to fall once again, you sat at the bus stop behind the stream. this small town was once a place you and seonghwa had always dreamed of leaving, but now you knew.

this dreary small town of yours, would consume your soul, as it did, his.

#ateez 🎱#ateez #ateez fics #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez angst #park seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa #seonghwa angst #mei’s ✍️

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randomimaginesideas · 2 months ago

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Together again (Revisted/rewritten, full one-shot)

Summary; Valtor saves you from your prison which separated you for 17 years. When you two are finally together again, plans must be formed and you two need to have a good look at each other after 17 years.

A/N; So it's finally here. The revisited/rewritten chapter of together again. This time I decided not to split it up into two parts, so it's just one big chapter.

In case you are wondering you can find the original post here: (1) (2)

If case you prefer you can also read this new version on AO3 here.

So a little background information:

I wrote this one-shot orignally back in 2021, and I believe I had only written one smut scene before this in my Klaus Hargreeves one-shot. Reading the original together again chapter made the cringe terribly, especially the smut part because it just felt like they were going through steps. Kiss, take clothes off, foreplay, sex and done. This time, I hoped to give the scene a bit more emotion and context.

I also added in some new information regarding reader's and Valtor's relationship. Back then, I didn't know I would continue their story in Let me Rage, so I didn't give a lot of information away in together again. So with the rewrite I wanted to establish their relationship a bit more, for the readers continuing in let me rage.

I'm sorry for the long wait as I was having a terrible writer's block, which is slowly lifting up, but for now I am just writing what my brains wants me to write and not forcing anything.

Please let me know what you think of this revisted work, do you like this version better or the older one?

Ps: I want to dedicate this new one-shot to @winx-is-magic as a orignal fan from the first fic, and for the constructive feedback she had given me back then to inspire to rewrite this one-shot with hopefully better grammer and punctuation. And since her comments underneath the first part always motivated me to keep this rewrite going. Even if she didn't know it, but perhaps she does now. So thank you.

Trigger warnings; Smut (this includes vaginal sex, unprotective sex, oral sex in which the female recieves, not beta-read work.

With a loud bang the wooden doors of Griffin’s office flew open, hitting the wall in the process. The Trix, who had been patiently waiting - or more like dozing off- , immediately jumped up startled. The man they had been waiting for made his way through the door, which closed behind him immediately with the same loud bang as it had opened. “Valtor, you look like you are about to bring this whole tower down.” Icy noted as she saw the fury on Valtor’s face. An emotion he didn’t show often, which was the first clue to the Trix that something was wrong. But despite that Stormy couldn’t help but mutter under her breath, “And us along with it.”

The Trix quickly shut their mouth when Valtor’s gaze landed on them, but when he saw the look on the Trix’s eyes he quickly straightened his face. It almost worked, but the Trix could still see the fury in Valtor’s eyes and the way his jaw was clenched. “I just had an interesting chat with your previous headmistress.” Was Valtor’s explanation before he made his way towards the desk. On it was a crystal ball that he often used for scrying, just like he did now.

With a wave of his hand the crystal ball started to glow. The Trix couldn’t see much from the distance they were standing, only that it was raining at the place Valtor was looking at. Valtor saw a garden, the fountain Griffin had described, standing in a maze. Despite the rain that was coming down, the scene almost looked peaceful. Except for the multiple guards surrounding the area, more than normal.

Having seen enough Valtor waved his hand again, the light from the crystal dying down again. “Valtor, where are you going?” Icy said to him, while Valtor made a portal appear in the middle of the office. “Solaria.” Was the only reply the Trix got before Valtor walked through it and disappeared from their sight. The Trix quickly exchanged a look between the three of them, nodded, and followed after him through the portal.

The Trix stood in another office, this one more light than the one from Cloud Tower. Standing behind the desk was Countess Cassandra or rather soon-to-be Queen Cassandra. It was clear that she hadn’t expected any visitors, guiding the shocked expression on her face and spell readied in her hand. When she saw it was Valtor, she lowered her hand and the shocked expression morphed into a more peaceful one.

“Valtor. I did not expect you. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” Countess Cassandra asks, smart enough to know that there had to be a reason for the dark wizard to visit her. She doubted he was just passing by for a cup of tea. “Your majesty,” Valtor started, the charm working as a pleased smile stretched across Lady Cassandra’s face. “I only wish to take a undisturbed stroll through the royal gardens. The fountain in the maze in particular holds my interest.” This caused Lady Cassandra to raise one eyebrow. “The maze, may I ask why?”

“You may, but it’s nothing to concern yourself about. You won’t even notice I’ve been there.” Valtor’s answer was cryptic, but Lady Cassandra and the Trix both knew that Valtor wouldn’t reveal any more. If he had wanted them to know, they would. The countess spared one look at the Trix, who were standing behind Valtor. The portal had closed the moment their feet had touched the office floor. The Trix just looked back at the countess, daring her to say anything.

With that Countess Cassandra nodded, and made her way towards the hallway. Valtor made himself and the Trix invisible as they walked behind the countess. The four of them were still wanted criminals after all. It wasn’t as if Valtor wasn’t able to bring Solaria down to its knees, but it would draw too much attention for now. It was better to take it another time. As they walked through the hallways the guards they passed bowed slightly for Countess Cassandra as she passed. Valtor focused his mind on that of the countess, using a new spell he recently learned to speak into her mind. I see you made yourself at home already. He had to give the countess some credit as her face betrayed nothing. I have. Came a reply in her mind, but Valtor could see a slight small on the side of her face.

Eventually they reached two glass doors which reached almost to the ceiling. Two guards opened them for their future queen, and out the group walked into the garden. Only one of the three suns from Solaria shining down on them. Two of them had lost their glow after their power had been taken. The power that now resides within Valtor. It was raining, Valtor knew that the rain hadn’t stopped falling ever since he had taken the power of the suns. With a wave of his hand the rain deflected from him, and the Trix followed his example. The countess had created a magical umbrella to keep the rain away.

The group ended their walk at the beginning of the maze where two guards were standing. “You may go. I wish to enjoy a peaceful walk in the maze.” Countess Cassandra said, waving her hand in dismissal. The two guards exchanged a look before they turned back to the countess. “With all due your respect, my Lady, we are on strict orders from King Radius to stand guard here.” Countess Cassandra looked annoyed, and placed a hand on her hip. “And why does the King wish to protect some bushes?” Valtor debated just going inside the maze, and tearing down anybody who stood in his path. But he knew that patience came to those who waited. His plan was going to be easier if the guards were gone.

“We don’t know the details, my Lady. Only that it was on the advice of headmistress Faragonda.” The other guard answered. “And who’s order do you follow? Mine, your queen-to-be, or a headmistress who isn’t even on this planet?” Valtor wasn’t sure if the way the countess was handling the situation would be the solution. “Actually we follow the orders of King Radius, my Lady.” One of the guards countered. Valtor had to repress a small laugh threatening to spill from his lips. He had to hand it to the guards, they were loyal to their king, but things were taking too long. Perhaps he wasn’t so patient after all.

Valtor had been preparing a spell to put the guards asleep when the countess took a step closer to the guards. She had straightened her back and her chin up in the air, looking more royal than she had before. “After King Radius, you follow my orders. I will allow you one more chance to follow my orders. Otherwise I will fire you from this position and you can go home without any means of ever getting a job on this planet.” Countess Cassandra looked at the other guard, who had grown pale. “This goes for you as well.”

Valtor doubted if it was wise to threaten the very subject the Countess hoped to rule soon, but he wasn’t going to interfere. When he ruled the magic dimension the countess could rule how she saw fit. But, apparently, it did work. The guards exchanged another look with each other before bowing their heads. “Yes, my Lady.” They said in unison before they walked off.

The group continued their way through the maze. It was clear Cassandra had been here before and knew the way. The group reached the middle of the maze where the fountain stood, along with five more guards. “King Radius has dismissed you for the next two hours. I wish to enjoy some peace and quiet. If anything should happen I will call for you.” The countess said, this time using a different approach. Now that she knew the orders the guards were under it was easier to dismiss them. And so they went.

When it was safe, and the group was alone Valtor dismissed the invisibility spell causing him and the Trix to appear again. Not minding the group, Valtor immediately walked closer to his target. His eyes on one particular thing only. The Trix also walked closer, now finally being able to see the reason for their visit. Valtor had mentioned in Countess Cassandra’s office that his interest lay with the fountain but they didn’t know why.

It was a square shaped fountain with each corner representing either one of the three suns or the moon. In the middle stood multiple statues on top of two layers. The first layer was made out of marble pixies and ocean gate keepers holding watering cans and wands where the water sprouted out.

The next layer consisted of different images. The Trix didn’t recognize all of them, but a few images with Cloud tower, Alfia and Red fountain they remembered as the history of the school. Valtor knew that the other images depicted the history of Solaria, and how they contributed to the build of the schools.

The top layer held four life size figures. On the far right stood, at first glance, a man with one arm raised holding a sword. At closer inspection it was clear that man was more a boy, the youthful characteristic would make the boy around seventeen years old. The outlines in the marble statue showed the signature red fountain clothing. In his remaining hand, holding it close to his chest, was the old red fountain building in miniature scale.

Next to the Red fountain student, more to the middle of the platform, was a girl. With her petite wings, a dress that twirled around her legs that kept her feet raised from the platform it looked like she was flying. The fairy had her arms reaching out, slightly bending forward as if offering something. In her hand she too held a miniature scale of her representation school.

On the far left was the statue that represents Cloud tower. The miniature scale building was carved into a marble sphere, making it seem as if the female in question was levitating in it. The artist had managed to carve a smile that looked sinister but also unbothered depending on how you looked at the statue.

And in between the witch and fairy statue was a final statue. It was different from the other three. The female statue, as seen by her hair and clothes and outline of her body, held no statue, and seemed far more detailed than the others. The statue was also less dirty than the others, no moss or algae grew on her feet, unlike the others. It was as if even nature didn’t dare touch her. She held two hands next to her body, palms outstretched as if preparing to attack. A look of rage is displayed on her face. Even from where he was standing Valtor could feel it from the statue, as if the marble was trying its hardest to contain the rage inside of it.

“Put on display for everybody else to see. A fate worse than mine.” Valtor muttered underneath his breath. His eyes were not drifting from the statue as he addressed the countess. “How long ago was this built?” From the corner of his eyes he could see Countress Cassandra shrug her shoulders. “I think about seventeen years ago, I’m not sure. I believe it was a gift to King Radius from the head of the schools, as a thank you for all the financial support Solaria has given over the years.”

Valtor gave a short nod to show he understood. “Thank you for your help, but I’ll handle it from here.” The countess hummed, and then slowly turned around. She knew a dismissal when she saw one, and while normally she wouldn’t let anyone dismiss her just like that, she knew that it was in her best interests to keep Valtor on her good side.

When the countess was away the Trix walked closer to Valtor, looking at the fountain that had captured the dark wizard’s attention. “So,” Darcy started. “What is so important about this fountain that made you drag us all the way here?” To the Trix the fountain was just an ordinary fountain, a bit tacky in their opinion or odd, but nothing special. “I didn’t ask you to join me, did I?” Valtor’s voice was cold as he glanced over his shoulder at Darcy and her sisters.

Darcy, out of pure instinct, took a step back. Valtor had been cold towards them before, angry even, but this time it had been something in his eyes that had made her take a step back. It was different from all the other times. But they just didn’t know why yet. “Now that you are here you might as well help me.” Valtor said, while turning his gaze back to the fountain. “Focus all your energy on the statue’s, focus on the curse surrounding them.” He ordered them. The Trix shared a look between the three of them, looking to the other to see what they would do. “Of course, Valtor. Let’s go ladies.” Icy was the first one to break the silence, and lifted herself in the sky, but not high enough to appear above the maze.

Her sister’s followed her lead, joining her in the air and surrounded the fountain. Valtor placed his hands in front of his chest as if in prayer, closing his eyes for a moment. “I can’t do this without you, it is time you return to me.” He whispered against his hands, energy started to crackle between his hands, as he slowly spread them apart. It may have, indirectly, been his fault that she was the state she was in, but he had promised her that he would be there for her. He would hold her again, after seventeen years apart. And after they had defeated the Winx and ruled the magic dimension they would have all the time in the world together.

Valtor’s eyes briefly searched for the Trix, seeing that they were finding themselves in a similar position he was in. “Now.” And at the same time four energy beams hit the statue’s on the platform. The three average statues crumbled immediately under the force of the power directed at them. Slowly cracks started to form in the remaining statue, but it was a slow progress. The Trix started to look tired, and sweat formed on their foreheads. The curse was stronger than he thought it would be after all these years. “Keep going.”

Just a few seconds later Valtor could hear the marble crack, when he did he stopped sending his magic and the Trix followed quickly after. The remaining parts of the statue were glowing, and between the cracks Valtor could see the first pieces of her. Her (S/C) skin, and (H/C) strings of hair. Then another crack followed by a big explosion of light. The energy from the spell rang across the open space. The gust of wind blew the Trix back into the bushes of the garden.

Valtor had quickly closed his eyes during the explosion, but just as quickly opened them again. It only took seeing your knees buckle that Valtor immediately flew up, as he caught you before you could fall off the platform. You fell against his chest, as he quickly wrapped his arms around you. Your skin felt strange as it was finally able to move, the sky - however dark it was - hurts your eyes, so as quickly as you had seen a glimpse of the world, you had closed them again. And you were so tired, your energy completely depleted, as if you had been casting the spell you had prepared for years. You would laugh if you could. You suppose you had been casting it, concentrating on it. You just had never finished the spell. But the thing that stood out most, among all your senses that were being overloaded was the smell.

It smelled familiar, like leather, and spices or a smoldering fire. It was a scent you knew quite well. One you would recognize out of thousands. Your hand, you could use it again now, held on tightly to the fabric beneath it. Afraid to let this illusion slip away from you. Your mind must be playing tricks on you. You have finally gone crazy. You were so tired. “V-val..tor?” You tried to speak up, but your voice was dry from years of disuse. Your voice merely squeaks, but he knew what you were trying to say. “Ssh, rest (Y/N). You are safe, you are with me.” Valtor whispered to you. With the conformation of his voice, you close your eyes. Fatigue overtaking you, now that your body and mind knew you were safe.

Valtor held on to you, as he carefully removed his coat, before he picked you up bridal style. His coat, that he had made float in the air, draped over your body. When you were safely in his arms, he flew back down to the ground. In the short time he had been busy with you, the Trix had managed to get themselves out of the bushes. “Why does she get the special treatment?” Stormy commented, but Valtor ignored it. His head perked up at the sounds of guards approaching.

“We need to go.” Darcy said as the footsteps grew closer. Valtor wasn’t worried about the guards. He knew he could take them on, but attacking the guards or making a spectacle of it was of no use to him at the moment, it hadn’t been earlier and especially not now.. He had her back in his arms, and if everything went according to plan the Winx and the company of light would be none the wiser of her return. But for that they needed a quick and efficient escape. And so Valtor opened a portal in front of him, and stepped through it. The scenery around him changed from the rainy garden in Solaria to the dry office in Cloud Tower. As soon as the Trix had followed behind him, the portal closed. “Stay here.” Was all Valtor said to the three witches as he made his way to Griffin’s bedroom, the one he had made his own during their stay in Cloud Tower.

The door closed behind him, the shining outline of the door indicating the magic that was at work. Just like it was with the curtains that closed themselves, and a few candles that started burning. All the while Valtor made his way towards the bed, and laid you down in the middle of it. One of his free hands grabbed the covers, placing them on top of you. With his other hand Valtor had reached for his coat, thinking you would prefer the covers, but when he saw how tightly you were holding on to it, pressed against your chest and your nose buried into it, he couldn’t bear to part you from it. And so he just raised the covers above it, so you were lying under the coat, with the covers on top of the coat. Your barriers against the world.

Valtor sat down next to you for a moment, his gloved hand stroking your bare cheek, before picking up a piece of your hair and placing it behind your ear. You looked almost peaceful, if not for the dark circles under your eyes, the scratches and wounds that had been there when you were first imprisoned still on your body. And the way you had been holding on so tightly against him, against his coat. Had you missed him just like he had missed you? Had you been conscious as well, all this time? Watched as people stared at you, passed you by as if you were not somebody to be feared, to be respected? Just the thought of it made Valtor angry.

Valtor knew he would have to handle the Trix first before he would join you in bed, before he would take the time to hold you into his arms peacefully. But when he moved even slightly on the bed, one of your heads reached out unexpectedly, holding onto his wrist tightly. “D-don’t leave me again.” Your voice was still rough, and it was clear it took a great effort to say this one sentence. It had been a while since he had seen you this vulnerable. But he also knew how you could rise from the darkness you were in right now. How you could make the world bow to your wishes. Valtor hated to admit it at first, but he knew he was stronger with you by his side. And now the two of you were together again.

“Do not worry, my love. I have one more task to take care of, and then I will not leave your sight until you grow bored of me.” He said, while kneeling down next to the bed. He moved his wrist to his mouth to place a kiss on the fingers that had been holding on so tightly against him. “I have you back in my arms, I wish not to be removed from them for any longer than I have too.” Your fingers slowly released his wrist, and went back to your own chest. Valtor leaned over the bed to press a kiss on your forehead, before he slowly rose up again.

Behind the closed doors, when it was just the two of them, Valtor wasn’t afraid to show the affection he held for you. And he had to admit that even his little act in the garden, had been more affection that he would usually show. It was an agreement that you had made long ago. Love made you stronger, but it was also a weakness. If their enemies knew just how much you meant to each other, instead of just partners in crime, they would do everything they could to use it against you. When you and him ruled the magic dimension, together, would you show the world what you mean to each other. A king and queen of darkness and shadows.

“I will be back, I promise.” Valtor said again, and he watched as you closed your eyes. Sleep overtaking you again. Valtor carefully made his way out of the bedroom, and back towards the office where the Trix were still patiently, or not so patiently, waiting for an explanation. Valtor ignored them, as he took his place on the seat behind the desk. “Well, are you going to explain yourself, Valtor?” Icy demanded, breaking the silence in the room. She walked toward the desk, placing her hands against it as she leaned against it. An amused smile crept on Valtor’s face, amused by the thought that Icy thinks she could intimidate him. “What should I explain then, my dear Icy?” As he leaned back in the chair, and folded his hands together in his lap. “Who is she, and why did we just save her from being a garden accessory? Why not start with that.”

One of Valtor’s eyebrows rose up, as he looked at the Ice witch. It was clear that Icy was talking to him the way she was out of jealousy. Demanding answers from him, as if she was entitled to them. “Do not forget who you are speaking to, Icy. I do like you and your sisters, but do not think that I will be able to send you to places far worse than the omega dimension should you continue to disrespect me.” The witches looked at him like he had thrown a glass of cold water in their faces. Good, let them be reminded of their place. If he won’t do it, you certainly will. The Trix won’t know it, but it was better if he did it instead of you. Although he did enjoy it when you were jealous.

“But, I am nothing if not an understanding man, and you will get to know her soon better, so it’s best to get some things clear beforehand.” Valtor had placed a hand on his chest for a moment, the glare in his eyes faded away and a charming smile had taken its place on his face. The dark wizard turned into a charming gentleman. “The woman we just rescued is (Y/N). The state she was in was because of me. The company of life cursed her to be a statue, as punishment for her aid in my crimes against the magic dimension.”

As Valtor told them this, he could see doubt across Darcy and Stormy features, probably thinking if something like that could happen to them. But it was only because Valtor had been paying close attention to the Trix that he had seen it. He had to give the Trix credit for after that, their bodies betrayed nothing. “She is my right hand, as some would say.” He added, letting those words sink in with the Trix. And he could see some slight betrayal in their eyes, and maybe even a bit of hurt. Oh, dear. Perhaps he had charmed them a bit too much. Valtor could understand that the Trix thought themselves to be his right hand, since they hadn’t known of your existence. But they could have never replaced you. Valtor had just needed to figure out where the company of light had hidden you.

It surprised Valtor that Darcy was the one to speak up first, thinking that Icy would have taken the lead. But it seemed that the Ice witch was just too absorbed with taking all this information in. But the slow ice forming on the desk beneath Icy’s hands betrayed the inner turmoil happening inside the witch’s mind. “So what are we? Your minions, to do with as you command?”

Valtor knew that he had to play his card right at this moment. The Trix were useful, even if they had failed at some of the missions he had sent them on. And even if they may not be his right hand, every army needs generals. The Trix would fit that part, even with their mistakes. They were still trainable. With your help he would be able to shape them into the generals he needed while you and him gained the power of the magic dimension.

Valtor scoffed. “Of course not. Do you think so little of me?” Valtor asked, his voice almost sounding offended. “Do you think I will go through the things we have with just mere minions?” Valtor slowly rose from his chair, casually walking through the office, addressing Darcy and Stormy by looking them in the eyes. “The way I speak with you, the way I ask for your help, and ask your opinions. You think yourself as low as the Countess from Solaria? She is a minion, a means to a hand.” Valtor walked towards Icy, and gently grabbed her left hand away from the desk. The witch looked at him with calculated eyes, as she was trying to guess what point Valtor was trying to make.

“You three are my left hand. Just as important as my right.” He looked Icy in the eyes, as he said it. He could see the ice witch almost melted, if it were possible. Then Valtor turned his head to look at all three of the witches, slowly dropping Icy’s hand. “I could not have done the things we have done without you, my witches, and I am grateful for it. So please, never see yourself as ‘just my minions’ again.” And with those final words, he could see the last of the Trix’s doubts fade from their eyes.

Now, with that taken care of, Valtor placed his hands together. “Now, if you will excuse me, I will make sure our companion is healed up. While I do that, I want to ask you to make sure I am not disturbed, and that Griffin is still alive, and in her cell where she should be.” Valtor wasn’t worried that Griffin had broken out, but he had left her in quite a state, and he had learned one thing throughout his life. Never underestimate anybody, that way they can’t surprise you. And this way, it would keep the Trix busy while he was with you. Luckily, the Trix agreed, and left quickly without making a fuss.

The moment the door closed behind them Valtor sealed the office door with his most powerful lock spell. Then he made his way back towards the bedroom, and gently opened the door. He didn’t want to disturb the rest you so clearly needed. You were still lying in the middle of the bed. The covers slowly rose with each breath you took. The shadows in the room were restless, twisting and turning as their mistress was recovering her strength, subconsciously obeying your command of blocking out the sun coming through small gaps in the curtains.

As Valtor began to walk the shadows on the floor twisted and made way for him so he could see the ground until he reached the bed. When he did, Valtor gently pulled his coat from his shoulders, and placed it on the foot of the bed,then his gloves before taking his shoes off as well. Then he took his place beside you, lifting the covers as he did. You were lying on your side, and Valtor found his place behind you, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you against his chest.

You reached for his arm, holding it closer to your own chest. Your breath gently tickled his fingers. You laid like this together for a while, just enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies, knowing that after seventeen years you were together again. Valtor was slowly drifting off to sleep when your voice pierced the silence. “I thought I had lost you forever.” Your voice was soft, and almost sounded broken. As if saying the sentence out loud was enough to crush your heart.

Valtor gently turned you around in his arms so you were facing him. There were no tears in your eyes, but he saw how much the years had taken a toll on you. “I failed you, I tried to save you when they captured you in the ice, but I couldn’t. I’m sorry.” Valtor placed his hand on your cheek, sushing you gently as he did. He did not need to hear your apology. There was no reason to apologize. You did everything you could have done at the moment. “And still you came back for me.” You couldn’t help but add, despite Valtor’s actions.

Valtor was almost insulted by the addition. The slight questioning tone as if you couldn’t believe he would search the entire magic dimension for you? Or beyond it? “My love,” He said gently, stroking your cheek while looking you in the eyes. “my heart is so full of you, I can hardly call it my own. And if you think I would live without my heart, you are mistaken.” Valtor reached forward to press a kiss on your forehead.

When Valtor placed his head back on the pillow again, you placed your hand on the one holding your cheek. “We have a new chance now. I will not fail you again.” Your voice was resolute, full of promise as you gently squeezed his hand. A smile crept on Valtor’s lips as he slowly saw your strength return to you. “You are correct. I already have the strength of Solaria, the secrets of Andros, Domino is destroyed, Griffin’s school is under my power and it’s headmistress is currently occupying her own dungeons.” The smile on your face grew larger and larger, the more Valtor informed you about the current situations. “And with you back at my side, there is nothing that could stop us this time.”

“What about the company of light?” You asked. The situation was looking good, but despite that you weren’t one to underestimate your enemies. The company of light had beaten you once, they could do it again. “The company of light is destroyed. Oritel and Marion are dead, Faragonda and Saladin are old, and Griffin can’t hurt us any longer, and Hagen wants nothing to do with the company anymore.” Your eyebrow rose up at the news. “So there is nobody who can stop us anymore?” You highly doubted it, so you wondered what Valtor wasn’t telling you.

“There is a new group of self proclaimed heroes. They call themselves the Winx, and are students from Alfia. No doubt Faragonda has something to do with their self proclaimed heroism.” You pulled Valtor’s hand away from your cheeks, playing with his fingers as it now lay in between you. “Have they caused trouble before?” Valtor wouldn’t have mentioned them if they hadn’t. “Not too much yet, but some of them have been able to break through my dark spells with the help of their Enchantix.” Valtor knew you well enough to know what question you would ask next, so he added; “Only two of the six of them have managed to gain their Enchantix powers.”

“Then we need to make sure it stays that way.” You said grinning. “I’m confident you will come up with something.” Valtor looked you up and down. Some color coming back to your face, and the hand that had been playing with his fingers slowly started to gain its strength again. “You seem to be starting to get better.”

“I am. I feel my strength slowly returning to me.” You confirmed before pressing a kiss on his fingers. “I should leave you to rest.” Valtor said, slowly moving his body to slowly leave the bed. But before he could go far you pulled him closer to you again, not wanting him to move even an inch further away from you. “And here I was, wondering when you are going to kiss me?”

“I have already kissed you.” Valtor said, one eyebrow raised. You brought his hand to your lips, letting his fingers glide over them. “Not on my lips, yet.” A smile crept on Valtor’s face at the mischievous smile on yours. “I’m sorry, how terribly foolish of me.” Valtor rose himself up, leaning on his upper arm as he leaned over you, your lips inches apart from each other. His long blond hair fell as a curtain around the two of you. “A mistake I must rectify immediately.” His voice was low, almost breathless.

“Then what are you waiting for? I’ve waited-,” Valtor’s lips were on yours before you even finished your sentence. It started out slow, patience. The two of you are slowly exploring each other after your seventeen year separation. Your hand reached up, sliding past his cheek and into his long blond locks, pushing them back, ending on the back of his head. But it wasn’t for long until the kiss started to pick up the pace.

When Valtor softly bit your lower lip a soft gasp left your mouth, only to be swallowed up by Valtor. Your lips danced with his, only parting briefly to take a breath before they came back together again. You were starving for each other, exploring each other again after seventeen years.

Then Valtor slowly pulled away from you, only for his lips to connect with your skin. Your cheek, your neck, your shoulder blades. Your skin felt hot whenever his lips pressed against you, showing his love for you, his devotion. With his free hand he pushed aside the fabric covering the rest of your shoulder so he could continue his trail of kisses. As he moved his hair tickled against your skin.

Valtor went lower, closer and closer to the middle of your chest. Could he feel your heart beating? The way it almost seemed to skip a beat because it couldn’t keep up with the way he made you feel. The way he made your blood race through your body, creating the flush in your cheeks. Just when you think Valtor would pull the fabric of your dress away to reveal yourself more to him, he pulls away.

“I think I should let you re-”

“Don’t you dare.” You practically growled at him as your hand in his hair tightened and pulled him back to you. An amusement laugh came from Valtor’s mouth as he listened dutifully to his own heart and continued his trail of kisses. “Wouldn’t dream of it, my love.” Since Valtor was still leaning on one of his arms to keep himself above you, he used his other hand to trail his fingers down your side, and up towards your dress.

There was a breath of silence, both of you anticipating his next move, your eyes locking before Valtor reached for your dress and pulled your heart shaped sleeveless dress down, revealing your upper body to him. Despite your body feeling hot, your nipples still stood at attention, waiting for any kind of affection the man of your desire might give them.

Valtor’s eyes remained locked on yours as he kissed the soft mounds of your breast, alternating between the two of them. His breath graced your sensitive nipples, but his lips didn’t touch them yet. Instead Valtor wanted to torture you for a little bit longer, pressing kissing and little bites on the skin around them. “Valtor.” His name spilled from your lips as a prayer, and he listened. For how could he refuse you when you sounded this beautiful?

His lips finally pressed a kiss on one of your nipples, before he gently sucked. A small moan escaped your lips, as you slowly raised your hips at the sensation. Subconsciously you gently pulled on Valtor’s hair and a groan came from his lips, but you could feel him smile against your skin.

After a few minutes Valtor pulled away, and this time you let him. Your breath came out quickly, as you kept your eyes locked on him. Valtor reached for your dress, hiking the rest of the fabric up to pull it over your head, leaving you in only your underwear since you hadn't needed a bra in this type of dress.

The two of you could just magically make your clothes disappear, and most times you did. But sometimes, like now, you two wanted the addition of taking each other’s clothes off. Of getting to undress another, to feel each other’s hands as you slowly revealed one another. To truly see each other. Like the way Valtor was looking at you right now. As if you were the center of the universe, his universe. As if you were the goddess of the universe, and him your loyal subject. As if he was made to worship at your feet, and worship you he would.

Anticipation filled your body as Valtor reached for you, crawling on top of you as he gave each of your breasts another kiss before he continued his path down. A kiss on your sternum, a kiss on your stomach, your navel, and just above the line of your underwear. Just as his hands moved to your hips to grab the edges of your underwear, his eyes locked with your again as he pulled them down.

You moved your hips up for a few moments to help him ease them off, before laying back down again. Valtor pressed a kiss on your pubic bone, and then on both insides of your thigh. Valtor slowly spread your legs, bearing you for him. His arms slid between your legs, as you had them slightly raised. One of his hands brushed over your hip and to your upper thigh, squeezing the skin underneath. His other hand found yours, which you didn’t notice until now, had been clutching the sheets. Your fingers entwine together, tightly holding onto each other.

“My heart, my love, let me worship you.” Valtor growled against your skin, as his kisses trailed lower and lower to the area between your legs. The place you need his lips, it had been ignored for so long. You longed, needed his touch, his lips, anything he would give you. "Please." A breathless plea was the only thing you managed to say, followed by a moan as Valtor’s lips finally made contact.

Your fingers gripped his fingers tightly as he worshiped you. It was not long before Valtor found the little button between your folds which made you see stars. He sucked, licked and kissed as if his survival depended on your pleasure. Perhaps it did, as you would surely kill him if he stopped now. No matter that he was the greatest wizard of all time. But luckily he didn’t.

Moans escaped your lips, along with his name as if in prayer. As if it was the only thing you knew how to say, but it wasn’t enough. You could feel your pleasure reach higher, and higher but you needed more. And so you tried your best to gather your thoughts through your lust filled brain to form a sentence. “My love, I need,-” A loud moan escaped your lips, and pulled you from your sentence as Valtor gave a hard suck on your clit.

Luckily you didn’t need to gather your thoughts again as Valtor’s hand slipped from your upper thigh. Valtor pulled away for a moment, giving you a short moment to catch your breath. Then you feel the sensation of his fingers gliding through your folds. “My heart, you are soaking.” Valtor said, and you could hear the pride in his voice. You didn’t feel any shame, because you knew Valtor loved to see you like this. You could hear it in his voice, and see it in the way he looked at you.

“O-only for you.” You managed to say between breaths of air, and a dark chuckle escaped Valtor’s lips. “Mmmh.” You moaned as Valtor’s fingers slowly entered you. “I may hope so, for I pity the fool who dares touch what belongs with me.” belongs with him, not belongs to him. He truly sees you as his equal. You love this man, this wizard. You would travel to the darkest corners of the magic dimensions for him, you would die for him. If only he would continue to look at you like he is now, for him to love you like he does now.

“V-valtor.” You moaned again as his lips now joined his fingers. The combining sensation of his tongue and fingers is enough to make your pleasure reach higher, and higher. Especially when he found that spot inside you that made you see stars. Your moans increased, your free hand grabbing his hair again to get a hold on him, to make sure he didn’t pull away, not now you were getting closer and closer to the edge of your pleasure. You were almost there, ready to throw yourself off the edge and fly.

“Come for me, my heart.” The vibrations of his growl added to the sensation, and with a loud moan you came apart. Behind your vision you saw light, and stars as your climax ripped through you. Valtor slowed down his ministrations to ease you back down from your high.

When you opened your eyes again Valtor was looking at you with a satisfied smirk. You chuckled as you gave his hand a squeeze. “You are still wearing too many clothes for the next part.” You commented, earning another chuckle from Valtor, who in returns sat back on his knees, and slowly started to unbutton his blouse. Your eyes didn’t leave him for a second, wanting to take in any piece of skin that you have been missing for the last seventeen years.

When Valtor’s blouse was gone, you slowly pushed yourself into a sitting position. With the way he was still on his knees, you could easily reach for pants. Unbuttoning them as you looked up at him, and pulled his pants down, along with his underwear. You didn’t want to waste another second to see him in his full glory.

Valtor’s desire for you was evident, a drop of pre-cam leaking from his tip. He couldn’t wait to have you, to be inside of you, to feel you clench around him as you came undone. Just the thought of it was enough to make his cock twitch. Valtor saw you reach for him, but he placed his hands on your shoulders, gently pushing you back into the mattress again. “Another time, my heart. I need to be inside of you, sooner rather than later.”

Valtor quickly made work of his pants, pulling them down the rest of the way, as he crawled back on top of you. Your legs wound around his waist, as he slid his cock over your entrance a few times, coating himself in your arousal.

“I thought you needed to be inside-” Valtor slipped inside of you before you could finish your sentence, filling you up entirely. Your body needed to get used to his size again, but it only added to the sensation. Valtor taking your body, taking what belongs with him. A moan of his own had escaped his lips as he felt you tighten around him, as if even your body was trying to pull him even deeper.

Valtor pulled back out again, before pushing himself back in again. Then he picked up the pace, leaning forward as your legs fully wrapped around him. He placed his elbows next to your face, and he leaned forward and captured your lips with his. You could feel your pleasure building again, as Valtor reached deep enough to hit that spot again which made your legs like jelly.

After your kiss Valtor slowly pulled away, and leaned back again. You already missed his skin against yours, but when he leaned back on his knees, grabbed your legs and placed them over his shoulders, you knew things were about to get serious.

When your legs were over his shoulders, he pressed a kiss on one of your ankles, before Valtor set a brutal pace. In this new position Valtor was able to reach even deeper, and able to hit your G-spot even better. And this way you were even together for him, milking him for all he was worth.

It wasn’t long that your second climax reached you, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer. And Valtor reached his pleasure not soon after. Your moans, the way you looked like a goddess, the way you clenched around him was enough for him to come undone. Just like you, but with your name on his lips, Valtor came.

When he came down from his climax Valtor slowly lowered your knees, massaging your legs to get the blood flowing again. Then he slowly pulled out, and he watched as the combined mixture of your juices slipped between your legs. Valtor waved his hand, and a wet towel appeared in it.

With the utmost care he cleaned you up first, before he did himself. When he was satisfied with the work, he made the towel disappear again. You had your eyes closed, and if Valtor didn’t know any better he would have thought you asleep.

You had still been recovering from your seventeen years as a statue, and now with your activities you had used up all that energy. Not that you would complain, Valtor knew that. The two of you had needed this. To feel each other, to show each other the love between the two of you. The love that none of the outside world would know about until the time was right.

Valtor knew you were awake, but just drowsy. His suspicions were confirmed when he laid down on his back beside you. You turned around to place your head on his chest, and one of your hands on his stomach. Valtor pulled the blankets over the two of you, before wrapping his arms around you.

“Please, just stay with me for a moment.” Your voice sounded sleepy, and Valtor knew it would only take a few moments for you to drift off to sleep again. He could feel his own eyes getting heavy as well. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a decent night's sleep. Probably because he didn’t have you in his arms. “Of course.” He pressed a kiss on the top of your head.

“I love you.” You said against his chest, fighting every instinct to fall asleep. Just wanting to hear those words replied back to you.

“I love you too.” Valtor confessed to the shadows, and their mistress that he was holding tightly against him.Not soon after he could feel your breath slow down, and he knew you were asleep. Not soon after Valtor fell asleep as well. Later they would strategize on how they would conquer the rest of the magix dimension. For now, he just wanted to sleep with the woman he loved, now that she was back in his arms for the first time in seventeen years. Now that they are together again.

#imagine valtor #valtor x reader #winx valtor #winx baltor #valtor imagine #winx club #winx club valtor #baltor #canon divergence #smut #valtor fanfic

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oldmanpeace · 5 months ago

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My favorite album from each year, 1960+.

1960. Blues & Roots - Charles Mingus 1961. Blue Hawaii - Elvis Presley 1962. Jazz Samba - Stan Getz with Charlie Byrd 1963. The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan - Bob Dylan 1964. The Times They Are A-Changin' - Bob Dylan 1965. Bringing It All Back Home - Bob Dylan 1966. Blonde on Blonde - Bob Dylan. 1967. Are You Experienced - Jimi Hendrix 1968. Beggars Banquet - The Rolling Stones 1969. Let It Bleed - The Rolling Stones 1970. Bridge Over Troubled Water - Simon & Garfunkel 1971. Led Zeppelin IV - Led Zeppelin 1972. Harvest - Neil Young 1973. Pronounced - Lynyrd Skynyrd 1974. Pretzel Logic - Steely Dan 1975. Born To Run - Bruce Springsteen 1976. Turnstiles - Billy Joel 1977. Rumours - Fleetwood Mac 1978. Excitable Boy - Warren Zevon 1979. Rust Never Sleeps - Neil Young 1980. Heartattack And Vine - Tom Waits 1981. Moving Pictures - Rush 1982. The Number of the Beast - Iron Maiden 1983. Kill 'Em All - Metallica 1984. Purple Rain - Prince 1985. Hounds of Love - Kate Bush 1986. Graceland - Paul Simon 1987. Appetite For Destruction - Guns N' Roses 1988. ...And Justice For All - Metallica 1989. Doolittle - Pixies 1990. People's Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm - A Tribe Called Quest 1991. Nevermind - Nirvana 1992. Rage Against the Machine - Rage Against the Machine 1993. Enter The Wu-Tang - Wu-Tang Clan 1994. Weezer (The Blue Album) - Weezer 1995. Jagged Little Pill - Alanis Morissette 1996. Beautiful Freak - Eels 1997. Either/Or - Elliott Smith 1998. Mezzanine - Massive Attack 1999. Californication - Red Hot Chili Peppers 2000. Heartbreaker - Ryan Adams 2001. Toxicity - System of a Down 2002. Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots - The Flaming Lips 2003. Deja Entendu - Brand New 2004. Hot Fuss - The Killers 2005. Takk... - Sigur Rós 2006. One-X - Three Days Grace 2007. Oracular Spectacular - MGMT 2008. 808s & Heartbreak - Kanye West 2009. Man On The Moon: The End of Day - Kid Cudi 2010. My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy - Kanye West 2011. Watch The Throne - Jay-Z 2012. Born To Die - Lana Del Rey 2013. Pure Heroine - Lorde 2014. Ultraviolence - Lana Del Rey 2015. To Pimp A Butterfly - Kendrick Lamar 2016. Puberty 2 - Mitski 2017. Cult Drugs - Blood Command 2018. Goodbye & Good Riddance - Juice WRLD 2019. Norman Fucking Rockwell! - Lana Del Rey 2020. The New Abnormal - The Strokes 2021. The Horses and the Hounds - James McMurtry 2022. It's Almost Dry - Pusha T 2023. World Music Radio - Jon Batiste 2024. The Past Is Still Alive - Hurray For The Riff Raff

#personal #text

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waynes-multiverse · 7 months ago

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Polaris – Chapter 6

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, hurt, angst, more murder mystery, divorce, drinking, death

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: Welcome back, guys! I'm still trying to catch up with comments and reading, so be patient with me 😂 BUT there's a big reveal in this chapter and things are about to pick up. Can't wait to hear your thoughts on all of it. Enjoy! 🤓🤍

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 6: Curses And Cries

March 2021

As you entered the dingy bar on the outskirts of Juárez, the smell of salsa deliciously hit your nose, causing your stomach to growl. Ever since your prolonged stay in Mexico, you had really gotten attached to the cuisine here.

After your husband’s death, you started to eat your grief in spicy carbs and worked it off with an hour-long jog in the mornings and some Brazilian Jiu Jitsu in the evenings.

And while you were eating your sadness, your companion was drowning his in tequila. Apparently, three shots in this time, judging from the empty glasses on the oak counter in front of him.

You sat down next to him and wordlessly grabbed a plastic menu, skimming through it with interest as Beau watched you from his peripheral and downed another shot.

“Oooh, they have Quesadillas here,” you hummed happily.

“They have Quesadillas everywhere here. And back home. It’s called Tex-Mex,” Beau grumbled and gestured at the bartender for a refill with his fingers.

“Maybe some Nachos, too,” you mused, ignoring his murmurs next to you. He had become quite the grump.

“You’re gonna puke at some point,” he muttered, thanking the bartender as he placed down five more shots in front of him.

“Jesus, by the looks of it, you’re the one who’s gonna puke tonight, not me,” you quipped and arched an eyebrow at his life choices. “Maybe you should order some food as well, soak up all that Don Julio. Or at least eat the limes that come with it…”

“I’m fine,” Beau said and hissed as he gulped down another glass.

“Yeah, by all means, you look great,” you retorted wryly. “What happened? What are you doing back here so soon? You were supposed to be at home the whole week. Weren’t you and Carla planning to go on that cabin trip with Em?”

Unlike you, who had come down here and never gone back, Beau made the trip home every couple of weeks for the sake of his marriage and daughter. You knew, however, from the occasional concerned phone calls with Carla that he barely kept his commitment afloat.

You tried to talk to him, tried to keep a balance, tried to send him home, but you knew deep down that you could try even harder. Selfishly, you wanted him here with you. He was your lifeline, the only piece you still had left of your husband.

Beau snorted a drunken laugh in response and grabbed another shot. “Yeah, that went downhill quickly.”

Your brow scrunched with a mix of concern and confusion. You placed a palm on his forearm in a comforting manner. “What happened?”

Beau silently reached into the inner pocket of his jeans jacket and pulled out a folded and crumpled heap of stapled papers, slapping them onto the counter in front of you. With a creased brow, you took them and unfolded them carefully, while Beau downed another shot.

“Oh Beau…” You sighed when you read over the lines that stung out and looked at him, putting the document back down. “She’s divorcing you?”

“Yup,” he replied bitterly and stared ahead, another shot raining down his throat.

You frowned and snatched the last remaining shot, drinking it before he could.

“Ey!”

“You’re cut off,” you barked sternly at his protest. “Drinking isn’t gonna make this better, you know?”

“You sure? ‘Cause it certainly feels like it.” Beau grinned lazily at you. Judging by the glaze in his green eyes, you were honestly surprised he didn’t slur his words yet. But then again, you figured he had built up quite the tolerance over the last couple of months.

“Uh-huh, worked out great for you the last few weeks. You know, some would even say all the booze is what got you into this mess in the first place,” you retorted and threw him a pointed look.

Beau muttered mockingly into his empty glass, “Really? And who are those people?”

Rolling your eyes with a small sigh, you grabbed his arm and tried to get him up from the barstool. But Beau shook his head and wiggled himself out of your grip. In that moment, you wished that he was lighter and that you were a lot stronger.

“Nuh-uh, I’m not done sulking yet,” he told you and swiftly turned to the bartender once more.

Fourteen tequilas in, you were finally allowed to take him back to the motel. Getting him from the bar into the car and then from the parking lot into the room was quite the straining task. He was a big guy, his full weight resting on you as you had his arm slung around your shoulders, guiding him on wobbly bow legs.

“Where’s your key?” you demanded firmly like a kindergarten teacher talking to a misbehaving toddler.

Beau flashed you a crooked smirk. “It’s in my pocket. Go fish.”

You laughed in annoyed amusement. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that one tomorrow,” you said and dove your hand into the back pocket of his jeans, hauling out the key without further ado.

“Ow! Did you just pinch me?”

Well, some further ado.

“You bet I did,” you replied dryly, chuckling as you turned your back to him and fumbled the key into the lock.

“Oh, you’re a sly one, alright… Kinda like it,” he slurred drunkenly behind you.

You soon caught a waft of tequila as his breath tickled your neck, your gaze wandering up as his flat palm steadied on the door next to your cheek. He then leaned his forehead on your shoulder as he swayed behind you in the cool night air. A shiver ran down your spine, but you tried to remain composed.

“You smell nice,” he noted with a smile in his voice. “You always do.”

You snorted and finally managed to unlock the door. “Okay, now I know you’re really wasted,” you joked and tried to get his mind to focus on something else.

You didn’t take offense to his advances nor did you put too much thought into them. You supposed every guy, who was drunk, lonely, sad, and most of all, a man, would hit on any female in his proximity. His pride was shattered, and you were just the closest thing there to mend the pieces of his ego back together again.

Besides, you weren’t all that scared of him. Maybe currently a little uncomfortable, but that was it. You knew he was a good guy. And if it turned out he wasn’t, you had practiced enough Jiu Jitsu over the course of the last months to throw him on his ass with the power of your little pinky.

However, before you could twist the knob and open the door, he gripped your waist and spun you around. Your back hit the flat surface behind you, pressing against the fragile wood as you came face to face with him. He licked his plump lips with a mischievously cocky smile, leaning closer to you as he dipped his head.

But you didn’t move or flinch. Instead, you patiently crossed your arms over your chest and quirked your brow with an amused smile. “And what d’you think you’re doing here, gaucho?”

As long as he didn’t overstep any lines, you were willing to entertain his little flirtations for the sake of his ego. Deep down, you knew he wouldn’t go through with them anyway. Like the tequila, it just made him feel better in the moment.

As expected, the mischief soon disappeared abruptly from his face and was replaced by a surprise attack of nausea. “Puking,” he managed to spit out.

With a sigh, you grabbed behind you and swung the door open for him, watching him bolt past you into the bathroom. You heard him retching a second later.

“Told you so!” you called after him with a triumphant grin.

With a few taps of your combat boots, you waited till the silver elevator doors of the DA’s office parted with a ding. Your head bobbed mindlessly to the jazzily generic music till you reached the fifth floor and Diane’s office. For once during this case, you were excited to meet with a prosecutor. You finally struck gold and had something in your hands, even if it was just a username and a possible connection to the victims.

Depending on what your tech analysts at the FBI back in Houston would find, you hoped for an arrest by the end of the week.

“Hey, working hard, I see,” you said with a friendly smile as you approached Diane’s desk and saw the huge piles of files in front of her. It was late, too. The office was empty, her colleagues already having cleared out.

“Yeah, I’m the newbie, so I got a lot of catching up to do,” she said, chuckling softly.

You then noticed the diploma behind her hanging on the wall and nodded impressed. “Wow, Stanford Law School, huh? You’re from California?”

“Oh yeah, born and raised. And honestly, it’s not that remarkable. It’s really just like any other law school in the country,” she replied modestly.

You snorted, amused over her response. “Yeah, I doubt that.” There was a twinge in your stomach and a voice in your head.

Smart, driven, the California Penal Code, it whispered, checking off a secret list.

“By the way, I’m sorry about last week,” Diane apologized, causing your brow to wrinkle in confusion for a moment before you caught on. Her voice sounded secretive like the two of you were having a chat between friends. Only that you weren’t remotely close at all. “I didn’t mean to barge in and interrupt anything with that hottie sheriff.”

“Oh, uh, don’t worry about it,” you told her courteously, squinting your eyes a bit.

“You’d think someone like him would be married,” she commented cheekily, while you direly wished you could escape the awkwardness of that conversation.

“Divorced,” you supplied politely, trying your best to remain professional.

Socially weird, the detective voice in your mind noted.

“Oh, that explains it. Wonder what happened there. I was actually so surprised when Sheriff Arlen introduced you as his girlfriend,” Diane said and explained further, “I just noticed your wedding ring, so I assumed you were his wife.”

“Uh, no.” Your eyes flashed down to your golden wedding band around your ring finger, the urge to take it off and hide it in shame before crawling into bed with a torrid lover suddenly permeated your thoughts. As if taking it from your finger and hiding it in some pocket, out of everyone’s judgmental sight, would make the immoral affair less of a betrayal.

There’s nothing to feel guilty about, you reminded yourself sternly.

However, there was a flicker of something in Diane’s gray eyes that tugged and tore at you, cautioning you to tread carefully. That something wicked in her eyes wanted you to suffer and doubt yourself.

“So, what’s the story there? You married?” Diane asked bluntly and then shook her head, chuckling. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pry. It’s none of my business.”

“No, you’re good,” you feigned your assurance with a hard smile. “Dead husband, actually. Happened a couple of years ago now.”

“Ah, well, lucky you. Sheriff Arlen seems like a catch,” she quipped, grinning.

“Yeah, lucky me,” you faux-agreed and kept your smile, although everything was killing you inside.

“So, how did you two meet? Excuse my nosiness, I’m a sucker for a good love story.” Diane’s question reverberated with charm that could’ve easily fooled anybody into thinking it was all just harmless curiosity.

But not you.

You broke a polite smile, but your stare could’ve killed her. “He was my husband’s partner back in Houston.”

“Oh, wow. Sounds a bit messy, doesn’t it?” Diane gave you a surprised look, but you couldn’t shake the feeling she had already known the answer and her question was only supposed to torture you. Your feet were starting to get antsy to leave, your hands itching to grasp your gun. When you only replied by offering her another tight-lipped smile, she cleared her throat and dropped her intrusive exam. “So, uh, what can I do for you? Any new leads?”

Pursing your lips, you shook your head. “Uh, no. It’s a tough one. We’re still chasing down several ends, but nothing concrete. Just wanted to stop by to give you the coroner’s report of our last victim. It came through this morning.” You pulled out only one file from your bag, keeping the others inside, and handed it to her.

“Oh, alright. Anything remarkable?” Diane’s smile was sharp as she leafed briefly through the report. You guessed she didn’t need to read it to know what state the victim was found in.

“Uh, no. Nothing so far. Gotta be honest with you – this case is a tough one. Might take us a while,” you lied openly. You knew she didn’t buy a word of what you said, and you could see that she didn’t care.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll solve the case. After all, you’re a smart one, Agent Y/L/N. I have no doubt you’ll catch her, eventually.” Diane sent you a confident smile.

It was the last insurance you’d needed. You knew for a fact you had never mentioned to Diane that the killer was most likely a woman. That information wasn’t anywhere in the documents you’d given her yesterday. You had kept it close. Only a handful of people knew.

You could then see it all right there in front of you as the alarm bells rang in your head. You were face to face with your killer, staring right into her gray and cold eyes, and there was nothing you could goddamn do about it.

Judging by her cunning look, she knew it, too. She wanted you to catch on. She wanted you to know it was her. She was fucking playing with you.

March 2021

“Oh God…” Beau groaned as he hugged the yellowing porcelain throne, his forehead propped up on the back of his hand, knees scraping against the chipped and dirty green motel bathroom tiles.

“There, there…” you soothed with a hint of amusement in your voice, your palm rubbing his back in comforting circles when he heaved again. “Let it all out, big guy.”

“I think this was the last of it.” Beau straightened a bit as his fingers fumbled blindly for the flush. His eyes were bloodshot and teary, his nose was red and snotty, and his lips were pale and dryer than the desert. He never looked worse.

You grinned and pulled out your phone, swiping to the camera. “Say cheese.”

Beau’s brow scrunched in confusion and betrayal. “What in God’s good name-… Why the hell would you do that?”

“You look terrible, my friend. Figured it’d be a great picture for the slideshow I’m planning for your fiftieth,” you quipped, your wicked grin widening.

“Oh God…”

“Relax.” Playfully, you rolled your eyes back, while you saved the photo to your favorites on your phone. “You’ve still got a while ‘til then. You’ve just turned forty not that long ago. I’m just planning ahead.”

“Not that.” Beau shook his head and clutched his stomach, his cheeks losing color again. His eyes widened in miserable realization. “I think it’s starting again.”

With that, he tossed himself over the stained white bowl and puked his literal guts out for the umpteenth time.

“Yeah, I’m not surprised. Pretty sure you purged all the tequila and drank the entirety of Mexico dry,” you commented with a chuckle over his vomiting noises. If you ever thought the guy was sexy again, you would remind yourself to think back to this moment.

“I don’t remember you ever being this funny when I was sober.” After his last heave, Beau flushed once more and leaned back against the cool wall with an exhaustive sigh. “I think I’m really done now.”

You lifted an eyebrow. “You sure? You’ve said that a few times in the last two hours.”

He nodded with his eyes closed. “Mhm, yeah… That one felt final.”

“Alright.”

You rose from your floor seat against the bathtub and held out your hands. He glanced at them for a second before he took you up on your offer. With your help, he hoisted himself back onto his wobbly feet. You reached behind him and grabbed his toothbrush with a dab of paste from the sink, handing it to him.

You smiled. “You’ll thank me in the morning.”

After he thoroughly brushed his teeth and washed his face with cold water, you accompanied him to his bed with his arm slung around your neck. While he was more sober and coherent after his vomit escapade, he was still pretty drunk. You knew the massive hangover that would hit him in a few hours would be more punishing than the desert heat.

Sitting him down on the edge of his bed, you handed him a Tylenol and a bottle of water to swallow it down. “Hydrate,” you ordered as you kneeled down on the carpet in front of him, untying his boots and slipping them off his feet.

As you straightened, your face fell right into his hands, both of his massive palms cupping your cheeks. You stared into his hazy pine-green eyes, a twitch of confusion on your brow as your breaths mingled. Your heart skipped a beat, the white noise ringing in your ears. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but you could guess.

Beau swallowed thickly and dropped his hands from your cheeks. “I should lay down.”

“Yeah, you should,” you bit, a trace of anger in your voice. Though, you couldn’t tell if it was because he almost overstepped or because he didn’t. You knew the latter would be a problem for both of you, so you decided on the first. There was no need to unnecessarily burden your conscience with imagined immorality.

Beau groaned as his head hit the pillow. His eyes found yours, a fragment of an apology fluttered across his features. “Thank you, uhm, for taking care of me. You coulda just bailed.”

“Yeah, I know. But this was more fun to watch.” You grinned teasingly.

Beau pursed his lips, chuckling lightly. “Is that the only reason you stayed? ‘Cause it was fun?”

“No, you’re also my friend, and I’d never desert you. We leave no man behind, remember?” you said with a smile, quoting one of the cliché lines your task force team repeated often. “‘Sides, you and I are trauma bonded.”

“Alright.” Beau bobbed his head pensively, his lips curled. “So… on a scale from one to ten, how full is my quota for tonight to do somethin’ stupid again?”

Your heart twisted and clenched in your ribcage. You knew what he meant. He couldn’t have been clearer. It was all written in his eyes as bright as the stars in the sky when he looked at you, only a dangling question of “May I?” hanging in the air between you two.

“Twenty,” you said firmly and held your chin high, swallowing thickly. “I think that quota is pretty fucking full.”

“That’s too bad.” On his lips flickered a forlorn smile, his hand brushing your cheek for a moment before he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch lingered like smoke on your skin. “But maybe for the best. I’d like to remember that one, and I’m not sure I would tonight.”

A shallow scoff left your nose. “Maybe you’ll remember this,” you said with bitter anger in your voice and stared daggers at him. “You’ll always be the guy that stood on my doorstep and told me my husband was dead.”

Beau nodded with a harsh swallow of understanding and retreated, forcing some distance between you two. “Yeah, I think that’ll stick even through the tequila.”

“Good,” you bit and rose to your feet, walking to the door. “Get some fucking sleep.”

Beau’s mouth opened with a want to say something, maybe even an apology, but the door slammed harshly behind you before he got a chance. And now, all he had left was silence, a raging headache, guilt in his stomach, and regret in his heart.

Breathlessly, you arrived at the Sheriff’s Department and stormed into Beau’s office. The door was ajar as he chatted with Jenny, both of them curiously looking at you before concern took hold of their faces.

“Hey, everything alright?” Beau instantly rose from his chair, his brow knitting with worry.

“No,” you replied with a shake of your head, the alarm visible in every crease of your flushed face. “I think I’ve found our killer.”

“What? How? Who?” Beau ran down the basic wh-questions in confusion. “Weren’t you just at the DA’s office?”

“It’s Diane, isn’t it?” Jenny shot straightaway, and your eyes widened in confirmation as you nodded. “Yeah, I got a weird vibe from her, too.”

“What, no? Diane?” Beau raised his brow at the two of you in disbelief. “Okay, back up a little here. Why do you think it’s Diane? We met that woman only three weeks ago. She seemed alright. Little awkward maybe, but we can’t arrest people ‘cause they’re weird.”

“Look, I know that,” you said and crossed your arms. “And I don’t have anything concrete yet, but it’s just a feeling. I got a really strange vibe from her earlier.”

“Well, we can’t arrest people because of strange vibes either,” Beau retorted. “And if it really is Diane, arresting her at all is gonna be hard. I mean, she’s the DA on the case. Who’s gonna issue the warrant, huh?”

“Convenient.” Jenny scoffed under her breath, earning her a scolding look from her boss.

“Don’t encourage her, please.” He shot Jenny a warning and yet pleading glance.

“Look, I’m not crazy! It’s her. I’ll find proof,” you insisted. It almost sounded like a threatening promise.

“What did she say to you exactly?” Jenny questioned and cocked her head at you in interest. You appreciated her professionalism, unlike Beau who still looked at you doubtfully.

“She asked some really personal questions about me and Beau. And not in a friendly chitchat manner. It’s hard to explain. I guess you had to be there… It was weird, okay?”

“Well, you can’t really fault her for that after what she’s seen,” Beau mitigated the circumstances.

“What has she seen?” Jenny looked suspiciously between you two. When both of you responded with deafening silence and averted your gazes, she chortled. “You two really need to lock that door.”

“Alright, that’s not the point,” Beau huffed his retort with blushed cheeks.

“Can we get back to Diane being a serial killer, please?” you requested impatiently. “Look, she fits the profile. She’s got the California connection. She went to Stanford. She’s obviously wicked smart. And she also knows we're looking for a female perp.”

That caught Jenny’s attention. Her brow furrowed. “You didn’t tell her?”

You shook your head. “No, and it’s nowhere in the files. So unless one of you told her, how did she know that?”

Grabbing the football from his desk, Beau’s head bobbed pensively as he squeezed the peanut between his hands. You tried not to think about Randy, but your heart stung nonetheless. Beau seemed to notice your distracted look and quickly put the ball back down.

“Alright, what do we do next?” he asked with a clear of his throat.

“I hope whatever the tech analysts find points to her. We could also put a tracker on her car. Won’t help in court, but maybe she leads us to one of the bunkers,” you suggested and pursed your lips for the next part. “I could also talk to the other DAs on the case. If we can’t get an arrest warrant here, we can still try through the other states and extradite her.”

“Good idea. Who would–” Beau stopped mid-sentence, his eyebrows drawing together as he realized your plan. “You wanna ask Ted? C’mon!”

“It’d be the fastest way! We’ve worked together for years,” you defended.

“Uh-huh, a little too closely…” Beau muttered under his breath, earning a small glare from you.

“Would you calm down? We only went on three dates. Nothing ever happened,” you stated and looked at him, completely forgetting Jenny was still in the room, too.

“I’m gonna go for this part,” she excused herself and touched your arm on the way out. “I’ll do some research on Diane. See what we can dig up about her past.”

“Thank you. That’d be great,” you said as she left.

Beau waited for a beat, ensuring you were completely alone before he found your eyes. “Nothing happened?”

“No, I ended it before it got to that point. Mainly because I didn’t want it to get to that point,” you explained and could see him relax, his shoulders falling.

He stalked closer to you, wrapping you in his arms. He kissed you deeply, hands wandering to your ass and squeezing the cheeks through your jeans. You smiled up at him.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” you teased.

“I’m not–… You know what? I am,” Beau stated almost proudly. “I don’t like thinking about losing you to some jerk. Actually, I don’t like thinking about losing you at all. It’s killing me that I almost did. I should’ve never let you close the door on me that day. I should’ve never left… At least not like that.”

“It’s okay. I’m here now… with you. It all sorta worked out. Maybe we needed that time apart,” you said softly and hoped you soothed his guilt a little. Your mind drifted back to Diane’s words. Thoughtfully, you twisted the ring on your finger.

“You okay? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no, it’s just something Diane said,” you told him, your brow wrinkling as the bad feeling in your gut expanded. “She just asked about my ring. It was odd.”

“Well, we already know she’s a bit nutty,” Beau said and gave you a soothing smile, embracing you a little tighter as he pulled you against his chest and pecked the top of your head. But his heart ached with worry and a bad feeling.

“Yeah, I just…” You glanced at your ring again and exhaled one nostalgic breath. You then took it off and placed it in Beau’s palm, who seemed rattled by your unforeseen choice. “Take it and keep it somewhere. Throw it in a lake or feed it to a trout. I don’t care. I don’t wanna wear it anymore.”

“Y/N–”

You stopped his protest, knowing it was well meant. “No, really. It’s alright, okay? I’m ready to let go. I’m with you now… And I love you.” You gave him a smile, and he mirrored a softer one, nodding.

“Alright,” he accepted your decision and lifted the ring to your view. He opened a drawer in his desk and stored it carefully inside. “I love you, too. But I’m gonna keep it safe here in case you ever change your mind… which you can do at any point in time, no questions asked, okay?”

“Thank you.” You stretched up to meet his lips, kissing him passionately. Sometimes, it was hard to believe you’d found it twice – true love. But you were sure of it whenever you stared into Beau’s mesmerizingly green eyes. Maybe Diane was right. You were lucky, after all.

August 2020

The cookbook laid open on the marble counter by the stove, a second one with another recipe right next to it. You stared at them, your narrowed eyes wandering back and forth between ‘Brisket’ and ‘Biscuits and Gravy’ as you tapped your chin with a wooden spatula.

You had never been the best cook, as your mother would attest to, but every once in a while you tried and even had some success with the classics. Those two dishes were Randy’s favorite – like almost every Texan’s if you excluded BBQ.

You’d been gone for close to a month for an assignment that took you all the way to Arizona. You had just gotten home two days ago, and after washing a month’s worth of laundry and getting some well-deserved rest, you promised your husband a delicious meal for date night.

When the food was done, you set the table with the good china you’d received from your mother-in-law at your wedding. As you waited, you filled a glass with Merlot. Then, a second one. You stared at the hands of the clock in the dining room moving in a circle, alternating with the watch around your wrist in case either one was wrong. Every two minutes you checked your phone, scrolled through social media, and exhaled sighs. The food was getting cold, but that was the least of your problems.

You were growing anxious, steadying the slight tremble in your hand with more wine.

But when the doorbell rang, you stood up from your chair with relief and rushed into the foyer. You ignored the voice in your head that told you Randy wouldn’t have rung the damn doorbell. He would’ve just used his key. And you ignored the voice when instead of Randy, you found his partner on your doorstep.

“Beau, hey.” Your brow crinkled at the oddness of seeing him so late at your house, but your lips formed a smile nonetheless. “What are you doing here?”

You ignored the voice that warned you about the universal truth everyone in law enforcement knew about. If a partner showed up at a cop’s wife’s house, it was never good news. Deep down, you already knew why he was here. You saw it in the haunted green of his eyes. You saw it in the dark and puffy circles underneath them. You saw it in the bloodstains on his white shirt. You saw it in the bloody creases of his nails that he couldn’t entirely scrub clean before he came here.

“Beau?” The wrinkles in your brow molded into deeper cracks, hardening like cement. You took a step forward, one hand on the door jamb steadying your jittery bones. “Is Randy okay? Is he in the hospital?”

You needed him to say the words, but he couldn’t. His lips quivered, his hands trembled, his eyes filled with tears. He swallowed harshly and clasped his mouth, not knowing what to say or how to find the words. He turned his back to you, walking a few steps. Whatever courage he had to come to your door in the first place, left him the second he saw your face.

You shook your head, disbelief keeping you from accepting reality. You stood on the tracks, the freight train was coming. “Just lemme grab my jacket. We can drive to the hospital together.”

Snatching a too-large jacket from the coat rack you were sure was your husband’s, you tried to bolt past Beau, but a hand on your arm caught you and stopped you on your front lawn. You found his green eyes. He wordlessly shook his head.

“No! It’s not true,” you insisted desperately, tears starting to flood your eyes. “I just talked to him a few hours ago. I-I made dinner… His favorite. He’s coming home! You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Beau’s clasp on your arm tightened, a tear slipping down his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

Your tears now fell, too. Yet, you vividly shook your head and stuffed the pain down your throat until it felt like you were choking. “No, you’re wrong. You’re wrong, Beau! He’s coming home to me. He’s coming home…”

You repeated those words over and over until your sobs swallowed them all. Beau pulled you to his chest and held you tightly. You felt his tears fall like raindrops upon your head, your body stiffening and bones turning to stone as unbearable pain and grief wracked through your veins and consumed you.

“I’m so sorry,” Beau repeated, his voice muffled by your hair. His arms wrapped around you even tighter. “He’s not coming home, darlin’. I’m sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry.”

He kept saying it as he held you – how sorry he was. But once the reality of the situation fully hit you, so did your anger. You pushed him away. As you met his gaze, he almost looked hurt by that action, but all you could find in your heart was vitriol, disdain, and blame.

“You should be. You should be sorry,” you spat through your tears. “Where were you in all of this, huh? You said you’d have his back! So, why are you here and he’s not? Where the fuck were you, Beau?”

His mouth jittered open, searching for an explanation for his own failure. “I know… I-I don’t know what happened. It just went south so fast… I-…”

“You guys told me it was a quick job,” you pointed out furiously. “In and out! ‘No big deal, darlin’,” you quoted him in mock. “It was your fucking idea to go in! I asked if you guys needed backup, and you said no! You told me you could do it on your own, you arrogant shit!”

Beau dragged a hand over his face, wiping some of the tears away. “I know.” He nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it! You got it? It’s not gonna bring him back now, is it?”

“I know. I know I fucked up. Trust me, Y/N. I know…”

You furiously shoved at his chest, pushing him back a few inches. He let you, didn’t even try to stop you in the slightest. He was willingly volunteering to be your punching bag as if it would magically better the situation and absolve him from his sins.

“You were supposed to be his partner!” you yelled so loudly all the commotion in the front yard of your quiet neighborhood had woken the neighbors, a few of them flooding out of their houses and gathering in their own yards to gawk at the spectacle.

You pushed him again. Harder this time. “You were supposed to fucking protect him!”

Another push. “You promised me you’d take a bullet for him!”

Push. “You fucking coward!”

Beau just nodded in agreement with all your accusations, his eyes brimming with tears. “I know. It’s all my fault. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

This time, you slapped him across the cheek. “Stop saying you’re fucking sorry!”

The harsh slap echoed through suburbia. Your palm tingled and stung as you watched Beau’s cheek redden with your furious mistake. You stared around you and glanced at the gasping and gaping faces of your neighbors. You clasped your mouth with both hands as you broke down and started to sob uncontrollably.

Kind and forgiving as he was, Beau pulled you back into his embrace, strong arms locking around you and soothing your anguish. “It’s okay… I’m here. I gotcha… It’s okay. I gotcha… I’m not lettin’ go, alright?”

Sobbingly, you nodded as you cried and sniffled, burying your face in his chest. You wrapped your arms around his torso and held onto him, too weak to keep standing on your own.

“It’s okay… I know,” Beau said and tucked you under his arm, leading you back to the house. “C’mon, let’s get you inside, darlin’.”

Chapter 7: Storm Coming

Welp, we know who our killer is now! Ready for the approaching storm called Diane? When it rains, it pours... 👀⛈️

Join the TAG LIST here! 🌌 Wanna sponsor my caffeine addiction? ☕️

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

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@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith

@nesnejwritings @autistic-gothic

Everything Beau Arlen: @snowayumi

Polaris Series: @corruptedcruiser

#polaris #beau arlen #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen series #beau arlen fic #beau arlen imagine #beau arlen x you #beau arlen x female reader #beau arlen fanfic #jensen ackles #jensen ackles characters #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you

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calderacitylovers · 1 year ago

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Zutara SlowBurn FanFiction: Personal Favs, part I

· I AM STILL HERE by owedbetter Published: 2017-10-09 | 77K words | 7 Chapters

After the Last Agni Kai K heals Z with the help of bloodbending. Very sweet.

· THE SUMMIT by AJLenoire

Chronicles post-war years, as Gaang and other characters gather for annual summits to keep peace and build relationships between the Four Nations. Katara yearns for a bigger purpose than the Avatar’s companion and slowly grows into a shrewd diplomat. Very sweet slow burn ZK story. Has mature scenes.

· CLOTHE ME IN SEASONS, DRESS ME IN SNOW by sadladybug Published: 2015-01-05 | 62K words | 7 Chapters

Follows old Zuko as he reflects on his life and what would have been if he kept Katara closer. Absolutely beautiful, but also a devastatingly heart-breaking story about loss and pain.

· SILENT DECLARATIONS by Megara Pike (Megara_Pike) Published: 2021-01-20 | 2,6K words

A short story based on animation by Hayley Wong. Z finds K asleep in her study and carries her to bed. Very sweet, gentle story.

· COVERED IN YOU by evergreenonthehorizon Published: 2021-04-02 | 55K words | 14 Chapters

Eight years after the war Z convinces K to take on a role of a Southern Water Tribe ambassador in the Caldera city. Both are completely clueless about each other’s feelings. Features political talks, big gestures, and a ball. Very cute, sweet slow-burn story. Has mature scenes.

· TEN STRIDES IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION by evergreenonthehorizon Published: 2021-04-03 | 29K Words | 12 Chapters

A collection of short stories filling in the gaps between some of the events of ATLAS3 and up to the Last Agni Kai. Features accidental cuddling, embracing in the rain, sharing a bed for warmth, post-Ember Island Theater discussions, being discovered, waiting to be kissed, Suki & Katara being good friends, battle plans, Zuko & Sokka getting drunk, slow burn & angst. Very sweet.

· THE SWAY OF THE SUN by TheBlackBriarSparrow Published: Published: 2019-10-14 | 102K Words | 27 Chapters

Two years post-war Gaang reunites in Caldera city for a secret party in honor of the overworked Fire Lord’s birthday. Rebels attack the palace setting a thrilling consequence of events in motion. Adventures, investigations, and fights ensue. Z & K work together and enlist old friends to help find missing people. Beautiful slow-burn story with an exciting plot.

· A WARM EMBRACE by ewinkie Published: 2020-10-06 | 19K Words | 7 Chapters

An ATLAS3 rewrite from Southern Riders to the Last Agni Kai. Katara and Zuko have to hide in a cave following their encounter with Yon Rha. Comforting turns to cuddling, which turns to waking up on Appa's tail in each other's arms. Katara is shocked at how comfortable she is. Zuko is shocked that Katara doesn't hate him for it. Features sharing a bed, being discovered, slowburn, and lots of teenage silliness.

· FOLLOWING BLUE by Boogum Published: 2018-11-07 | 39K Words | 10 Chapters

ATLA S2 rewrite. After Katara falls from Appa’s saddle during a pursuit, the Blue Spirit becomes her reluctant companion and helps her reunite with her friends. Ba Sing Se scenes are completely rewritten, and Z ends up joining the Gaang much earlier. Thrilling beginning, sweet middle, average ending.

· ANOTHER WORD FOR ALCHEMY by FanPanda13 Published: 2014-08-19 | 108K words | 24 Chapters

Five years post-war Aang summons old friends for a summit and invites them on a trip to investigate mysterious locations where he experiences loss of bending. Features Gaang setting Z & K up, travelling on Appa like in the olden days, lots of sparring, royal courting, magnificent navy ships & war ballons. Thrilling story with fun banter between old friends. Slowburn, mature content.

· CONSUME ME WITH FIRE, FLOOD ME WITH DESIRE by Dacamia Published: 2020-08-14 | 86K words | 24 Chapters

Steamy ATLAS2 and ATLA S3 rewrite. Z & K accidentally meetup on their way to Ba Sing Se and decide to travel together. Features aged-up characters, lots of intimate scenes, staying in a beautiful cave, helping villagers, betrayal in Ba Sing Se, reunion, forgiveness, etc. Explicit mature content.

· ROOTS AND WINGS by zukoscomet Published: 2020-08-14 | 250K words | 25 Chapters

A series of short stories of Z & K as they grow closer, confess their love for one another and start a family.

· THOSE WHO FAVOR FIRE by hiwasseelane Published: 2021-05-02 |29K Words | 13 Chapters

An ATLAS3 rewrite. Sweet, teen-appopriate.

Here’s a link to Part II of my personal favs.

Here’s a link to Wholesome Zutara Short Stories.

#zutara #zukoxkatara #zuko #katara #katara x zuko #zutara fanfiction

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37sommz · 2 months ago

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❁ : willow . . .

✼. masterlist — taglist — request. ✼. genre: fluff. ✼. wc: 2.9k.

after the win in monza, michaela can't get back home soon enough. what she didn't anticipate was the congratulations banner and the 7-year-old who designed it waiting for her.

✼. warnings: none i can think of :)

✼. notes: sat down and finished this while waiting for the sao paulo quali that never came lmao. i ends pretty abruptly but i couldn't come up with anything else and this is purely a filler chapter.

000.⠀⠀SEPTEMBER 14, 2021 › London, UK

Heathrow airport was abuzz with life as Michaela stepped into the main terminal, feeling the weight of her helmet case and the flight from Monza bringing an ache to her muscles. The cool air conditioning of the building provided a distinct chill, sending a shiver down her spine. Headphones tucked into her ears, she hummed lowly to herself as she navigated the crowded terminal. The odd fan would approach her every few steps, bright smiles and wide eyes a contrast to her own smile that didn't quite reach her tired eyes. As much as she appreciated the support, she yearned for the quiet solitude of home.

Home. The word filled her with warmth as she slipped into the backseat of her Uber. The driver, a burly man with a thick South London accent, congratulated her on her recent victory, and she thanked him with a polite nod and PR-trained words. She hadn't had time to process the win fully, the whirlwind of media and sponsor obligations leaving her feeling as though she were floating through a dream. But now, as the city grew closer, she could feel the reality of it all settling into her bones.

The car pulled up to the curb outside her flat. She stepped out after thanking the older man and signing a stray receipt for his daughter. Michaela took a deep breath of the familiar London air, a warm mixture of the impending rain and street food filled her nose. The door to the building swung open at the hands of her doorman, and she stepped inside exchanging quiet pleasantries with the young man, the echo of her sneakers and the roll of her suitcase on the marble floor the only sound in the otherwise quiet lobby.

The elevator ride to her floor was quick, the doors parting with a gentle ding. As she made her way to the flat, an unexpected scent hit her–the unmistakable aroma of her favorite Chinese takeout spot. Surprise painted her features as she unlocked the door to find a makeshift party set up in her living room. Balloons in the colors of McLaren's orange and black filled the space. A banner hung proudly across the wall reading "Congratulations!", the final few letters of the word squeezed together imperfectly. Myla's laughter tinkled through the air, a sound she hadn’t heard in several weeks. Her heart skipped a beat as she took in the sight of Jenson and his daughter, grinning at her.

Jenson, dressed casually in jeans and a white tee, looked more relaxed than when she had last seen him in August. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he watched her reaction, his hands behind his back as if hiding a secret. "Welcome home, two-time race winner," he said, a smug smile playing on his lips. Myla, her cheeks rosy with excitement, rushed over and flung her arms around Michaela’s legs.

"Look what I made!" she exclaimed, holding up a handmade trophy, a collection of glitter, paper, and what appeared to be half of the craft supplies from the local art shop. The pride in her voice was palpable, and it hit Michaela right in the heart. She crouched down, her eyes brimming with tears, and took the gift, her fingers tracing the glue-covered edges. "Thank you, sweetheart," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Jenson stepped closer, his hand landing gently on her shoulder. "We wanted to make sure you knew how proud we are of you," he said, his own eyes glistening. He bent down to kiss her cheek, and she leaned into it, feeling the warmth spread through her as they both forgot their discretion at the moment. Myla looked up at them, a hint of curiosity in her gaze before she returned to her giggling.

Michaela took a moment to compose herself, setting the trophy on the counter. "Thank you both so much," she managed to say, her voice shaking slightly. She glanced around the room, noticing the effort they had put into making her feel special. "But how did you two even manage to get in here?"

Jenson chuckled, his hands fluffing at Myla's blonde waves. "Ella, dropped off her spare key when I told her you'd be coming home today. She said you were a little down despite the win and needed a surprise." He winked at her, and she couldn't help but feel a rush of gratitude for her best friend, who was always looking out for her.

Michaela swiped at her cheek with the back of her hand, trying to hide the smudges of makeup that had formed under her eyes during the long flight. She felt the weight of her exhaustion lifting as she looked at the two people who had become her world. "Well, it's definitely a surprise," she said with a genuine smile.

"And there's more!" Jenson said, gesturing to the dining table, which was set with a feast of their favorite Chinese food. "I figured you'd be craving this after a triple-header away," he added with a knowing grin.

Michaela's stomach rumbled in agreement, and she couldn't help but laugh through her tears. "You guys really outdid yourselves." She stepped into the living room, taking it all in. The balloons bobbed gently against the ceiling, and a playlist of her favorite songs played in the background. It was a simple, yet beautiful gesture that filled her heart to the brim.

Myla looked up at her with wide eyes, a hint of shyness in her usually bubbly demeanor. "Do you like it?" she asked, her voice hopeful.

Michaela felt a lump form in her throat. "I love it, Myla," she said truthfully, her eyes never leaving the little girl's face. "It's the best trophy I've ever gotten."

Myla beamed at her, then looked down at her own creation. "I knew you would," she said with a satisfied nod. Her stomach growled loudly, catching the adults in the room off guard before the three of them dissolved into laughter.

"Alright, let's eat before your stomach starts to protest any louder," Jenson said, standing up and heading to the table. "Myla, darling, could you grab the plates from the kitchen, please?"

Michaela watched the little girl skip off, feeling a pang of affection that she had never felt before for a child. It was strange, the way this little girl had wiggled her way into her heart so effortlessly. She took a seat at the table, setting her handmade trophy down as Jenson took the seat to her left, resting a hand on her thigh.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice low and concerned. "Ella didn't go into detail but it sounded rough."

Michaela nodded, trying to keep the emotions at bay. "Yeah, just the post-race blues. It's hard to come down from the high, you know?"

Jenson's hand squeezed her thigh in understanding. "I get it," he said, his eyes full of empathy. "But you're killing it out there. Two wins in one season, that's incredible."

Michaela offered a small smile, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. "Thanks," she murmured, watching as Myla stacked the plates carefully, her eyes shining with excitement.

"Listen," Jenson began with a whisper. "I know you're tired, but there's something I want to talk to you about."

Michaela looked at him, her curiosity piqued. "What is it?" she asked, taking a sip of her water.

Jenson took a deep breath, his eyes darting to Myla, who was busy placing forks and knives on the table. "I think it's time we tell Myla about us," he said softly.

Michaela felt her heart race. She had known this moment would come, but the reality of it was suddenly nerve-wracking. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice a whisper.

Jenson nodded, his gaze steady. "Yeah, I think it's time. She's been asking questions, and I don't want her to feel left out."

Michaela's heart was in her throat. She had grown to love this little girl, who looked up to her with a mix of awe and affection. The thought of becoming a permanent fixture in her life was both exhilarating and terrifying. She took another sip of water, trying to calm her nerves.

"Okay," she said finally, her voice a little shaky. "Let's do it."

Jenson gave her a nod of reassurance as Myla returned with the plates and chopsticks, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Come here, lovie," he said, patting the chair next to him. She rushed over and climbed up onto the chair, her legs swinging back and forth with excitement.

"Michaela and I have something we want to tell you," Jenson began, his voice gentle. "You know how we've been spending a lot of time together?"

Myla nodded, her eyes wide with anticipation.

"Well," Jenson started, "Michaela and I are more than just friends, sweetheart."

Michaela held her breath as she watched Myla's reaction. The little girl's smile didn't waver, but she grew quiet, her eyes searching both adults' faces intently. "Are you guys... boyfriend and girlfriend?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes, sweetheart," Jenson said, his voice filled with a gentle warmth. "We are. I wanted to make sure you had a chance to get to know Michaela first, so we didn't rush into anything. We wanted to make sure we were all happy before we talked about it with you."

Myla's expression remained unchanged, but her eyes grew a little misty. "Does this mean," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "That you guys are going to be like Malik and Mummy?"

Michaela felt a pang of anxiety, her stomach twisting at the innocent question. She knew it was inevitable, but hearing the words out loud made everything so much more real. Jenson reached over and took her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Well," he said carefully, "It means that we really, really like each other and want to be together."

Myla's gaze flitted between the two of them, a hint of confusion in her eyes. "Are you and Michaela going to get married?" she said, her voice small. "Malik and Mummy are married now."

Michaela felt a knot form in her stomach. She hadn't thought this far ahead. Jenson squeezed her hand gently, offering reassurance. "We're not quite there yet, lovie," he said, his voice steady. "But we do care about each other very much, and we want to be together as long as you're okay with it."

Myla looked at her dad, then at Michaela. She nodded slowly, her cheeks flushing pink. "I'm okay with it," she said, her voice still small. "But only if you promise to be nice to each other. And if you make Michaela happy."

Michaela felt a rush of emotion, her eyes welling up again. She leaned over to Jenson, whispering, "Can I?" He nodded, giving her a warm smile. She turned to Myla and wrapped her arms around the little girl, holding her tight. "I promise," she said, her voice thick with unshed tears. "I'll always be nice to your daddy, and I'll do everything I can to make him happy."

Myla leaned into the embrace, her small arms wrapping around Michaela's neck. "And I promise to be nice to you too," she said, her voice muffled against her shoulder.

Michaela pulled back to look at the little girl, her eyes shimmering with tears. "Thank you, Myla," she said, her voice hoarse with emotion. "That means the world to me."

Myla beamed up at her, and for a moment, the three of them just sat there, basking in the warmth of the moment. Then, as if on cue, Myla's stomach growled again, breaking the silence. They all laughed, the emotion dissipating just as quickly as it settled.

"Alright, let's eat before this food gets cold," Jenson said, reaching for a plate.

Michaela managed a chuckle, the tension of the conversation lifting. They dug into their meal, the rich flavors of the food mingling with their laughter and the occasional question from Myla about the race in Monza. Her curiosity was endless, and Jenson and Michaela took turns explaining the strategies and the thrill of the race track.

As they ate, the conversation turned to school, and Myla chattered away about her new friends and the projects she was working on. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and for a while, it was easy for Michaela to forget the pressure of her own world. She felt a swell of pride watching Myla's eyes light up as she talked about her week, and a quiet sense of belonging that she hadn't anticipated.

But the moment couldn't last forever. After lunch, Jenson's phone buzzed, and he answered with a smile. "Ah, perfect timing," he said, looking at Myla. "Your mum and Malik are downstairs to pick you up."

Michaela felt a sudden pang of sadness as she realized her time with the little girl was coming to an end. She watched as Jenson spoke to his ex-wife, Blair, and gave her instructions on where to park. The conversation was short and polite, and Myla was soon ready to go, her school bag slung over her shoulder and a tote bag filled with clothes and toys.

"Come on, Daddy," she called out, pulling on Jenson's hand. He looked back at Michaela, his eyes questioning. "Do you want to come down and say hello?"

Michaela felt a sudden knot in her stomach. Meeting Jenson's ex-wife, especially under these circumstances, was something she hadn't been prepared for. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "I'll stay here," she said quietly. "You go ahead. I just need a quick call with Guido."

Jenson nodded, understanding flashing in his eyes. He leaned in to give her a quick kiss on the forehead. "You sure?" he asked.

Michaela nodded, her heart racing. "Yeah, I'll be fine. I've got a few things to sort out."

Jenson studied her for a moment before nodding and scooping Myla up into his arms. "I'll be quick," he promised, his eyes telling her that he knew she was avoiding the situation. With one last squeeze of her hand, he carried Myla out of the flat, the door closing softly behind them.

Michaela took a deep breath, trying to shake off her nerves. She picked up her phone and dialed Guido's number, the familiar ringtone echoing in the quiet apartment. He answered on the second ring, his gruff voice a comfort amidst the chaos of her day.

"Guido," she said, switching to Italian, "I've just landed, I just wanted to catch up on what we talked about yesterday." She walked over to the window, peering down at the street below as the conversation shifted to the business of the next season.

Michaela could almost hear the faint sounds of Myla's laughter and Jenson's voice from the street below as they walked to the car. It was a bittersweet moment, the joy of their newfound bond with the little girl tempered by the looming challenge of meeting Blair. Her heart raced as she thought about the woman who had been a part of Jenson's life for so long, the mother of his child, and now, someone she had to contend with.

Her heart raced as she listened to his words, the thrill of the potential new contracts sending adrenaline through her veins. The sound of the rain outside grew distant as the clouds opened up, mirroring the brightening emotions within her. "The win in Monza was huge," he said, his voice brimming with excitement. "It's going to give us the upper hand in negotiations next season"

Michaela nodded, her eyes glued to the phone. "What about that option with McLaren for my wins?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of anxiety. She had a good relationship with her current team, but the siren call of the top teams was hard to ignore.

Guido chuckled, his rich Italian accent filling her ear. "They know you're in demand. They're pushing for a meeting this week. But don't worry, I've got everything under control. You just keep being you, and the offers will keep getting better." His confidence was contagious, and she felt a weight lift off her shoulders.

Michaela wandered over to the sofa, sitting down and leaning back into the plush cushions. She listened intently as Guido rattled off the details of her upcoming schedule occasionally chiming in with responses, the excitement in his voice only fueling her own. They discussed potential sponsorships and the upcoming races in Russia and Turkey.

She heard the click of her front door as Jenson slipped back inside. "They've gone," he said softly, closing the door behind him. "How's the call going?"

Michaela looked up, a little startled. "Oh, it's fine," she replied, switching flawlessly back into English. "Guido's just going through some of the details for the next round of negotiations." Her attention was pulled back to Guido, transitioning into her near-perfect Italian.

"Michaela, cara, I know you're tired, but we must make the most of this momentum," he urged. "Your performance is speaking for itself. The teams are eager to have you on their side."

Michaela nodded, her mind racing with the possibilities. The thought of driving for a top team like Red Bull or Mercedes was exhilarating, but it also brought a fresh wave of pressure. She could feel the tension building in her shoulders as she listened to Guido's strategies and suggestions.

"Thanks, Guido," she said, her voice a little shaky. "I'll keep you updated on my end, we'll talk later this week?"

"Of course, bella," he responded warmly. "Now, get some rest. You've earned it. Ciao."

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