#and it's incredibly how comforting it is. how hearing those steady beats can calm her

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

re: raised in amphibia marcy who is nothing but the cores host

beyond the psychological stuff im also thinking about the physical. the evil science possibilities. im just like. canonically its hinted that the core did stuff to marcys body just in the few months it had her to make its vessel more suitable. the plug ports that were apparently in her limbs bc otherwise she would be getting stabbed by those things. "this thing needs some calibration" about marcys body??? what did it mean by that??? and like u mention her being wired up to it in the original ask

anyways im up here thinking abt how much it mightve done to her if it had her for that long. if it had the same plug things installed in her limbs as she seemed to in canon shed probably need replacements if they happened when she was young enough and grew significantly since then.

also my mom used to work in the brain-computer interface industry and well. to get really any level of highly detailed or accurate data, let alone on the scale youd need to fully interface with the entire brain, you would absolutely need to have direct access to the brain rather than trying to go through the skull. theres no way this girl doesnt have a port of some kind implanted in her head for the core to directly connect to her brain.

hell maybe it doesnt wanna deal with biological organs and the problems that might arise from them. no big deal itll just have them replaced!

Aaaaagh dude i love your asks. Galaxy brain asks from my galaxy friend mutual.

Anyway. Yes i I have thought quite a bit about Marcy's whole deal. What Andrias cares about is her brainnnn that blob of grey matter that's somehow a biological supercomputer. He has no qualms in eventually getting rid of the body and keeping the brain in a jar, immortalized as an invaluable piece of hardware with the help of some shadowfish biotechnology (shhh lemme tell you a secret: he actually does care for her and love her and takes no joy in hurting her. He just doesn't love her enough to save her :3). Anyway, unfortunately, when he found this thing, her brain was surprisingly underseveloped. He had a vague awareness that the unfortunate coincidence of bipedism and viviparity so characteristic of homo sapiens resulted in them giving birth to useless, half-developed fetuses (as opposed to fully mature, egg-born pollywogs), but surely, by age three, a human would be more mature, right? He checked his archives on alien biology and, indeed, no. An average human's brain isn't fully developed until around age 25. Marcy may be smart, but she's still, by all accounts, a homo sapiens pollywog. He consults the Core. The Core wants a host. They want a body, and they want this brain. They will do with just the brain, is Andrias is too useless to secure them the body, but even if they're willing to wait for another body (stronger, bigger, more amphibian) to come around eventually, they know it won't work as well as with the original brain-body combination.

He decides to raise Marcy to be 25. He keeps her mind sharp and body healthy, or as healthy as possible. She undergoes many week-long sessions unconscious and connected to all sorts of wires as tubes. It's so normal for her, that by age 6 she knew how to get on top of the plataform or into the tank without falling, and how to put on her own oxygen mask. She always woke up feeling weak and hungry when it was over, and with one killer headache, but her dad always held the biggest fests for her with all her favorite food when it was over! She always looked forward to her sessions. Like a dog.

In these sessions, she would undergo several procedures. There's mossman, shadowfish and amphibian biotechnology involved. The point is to 1) make her brain Core-friendly - if it has many dimensions that would make things easier! And 2) translate the data from the Core into something that can be run in a biological machine. For which they need to understand and explore said machine. She only has one port, in the back of her neck, hidden by her long hair. It connects straight into her spine and her brain. In essence, these are fitting sessions. The Core is trying out their new house. Ever since she was little, they actually did use her brain to run tests and perform different functions. Most of the times it was mostly to study it, but as she grew older, they began using her whenever a function required too much energy, whenever something that would take forever to load with its own equipment, would render almost instantly with hers. They never left any data behind, erasing all evidence of their presence, and they never fully transported anything to this new extension, using only copies of data with the original files safe in the Core. The point is to leave the Core behind eventually and fully move on to this new computer, but not yet.

A few funny side effects!

Her blood is slowly growing more and more green as the years pass. This actually has less do to with brain stuff, and more as early preparation for eternal youth and immortality. It's mean to make her last longer. When she first meets Anne at age 10 - 11, her blood is a brown-ish color, but by the time things blow up when she's like 13-14, it's just a gross green. Her kidneys filter it out with time and her blood returns to its original red color, and Anne and Sasha see her real skin color for the first time, since before she always had this weird green tint, but they didn't know enough about humans to tell it wasn't normal. Seeing her blush red instead of green for the first time is kinda magical.

Migraines! Especially after a session. Especially when she does something the Core wouldn't like, because despite how hard they try to erase their traces, Marcy's most primal survival instincts remember.

More indirect effect but going several weeks a year without eating can't be good for her. It makes her feel very tired, dizzy and weak, even if she's eating normally, because three days ago she was starving.

The port in the back of her neck itches a lot. After becoming queen, she asked the royal physician that put it her to remove it, but he was scared of leaving her paralyzed, since it was so deeply fused with her nervous system. Sasha still thinks she should've had the guy publicly excecuted or something.

Idk if it counts but ?? Andrias wouldn't touch her if she was sick, so Olivia often found ways to give her a fever in secret or something to spare her. She did it to protect her, but it does mean Marcy spent a big deal of her childhood in bed, recovering from a session or a light illness.

The Core communicates with her nervous system through electric signals, and even thought they don't want to harm it, they still make her muscles contract a lot so she feels super sobre afterwards lots of muscle pain all the time.

There is no helmet in this one. No indirect connection. When Andrias puts the Core in Marcy, he goes all the way. Straight into her brain! They got a new PC :3

[fruitcoops]

Wisdom With Age

Follow-up to Leo getting his wisdom teeth out: it’s Loops’ turn! Hope you enjoy :) Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for dental work, wisdom teeth removal, anesthesia, and surgery (mentioned)

Sirius carefully, but firmly, set his hand on Remus’ knee to stop it from bouncing. “Sorry,” Remus muttered, then immediately began worrying at the hem of his old t-shirt.

“Okay,” Sirius said under his breath, turning in his seat and taking both of Remus’ hands in his own. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

“I don’t like this,” Remus muttered as his eyes flickered up to Sirius’ face. “Honey, I really don’t like this.”

“I know, but you have to do it.”

“Why? They’re my teeth, it’s my mouth, and is it such a bad thing if I don’t want people poking around in it?” The leg started bouncing again. “I mean, humans survived for thousands of years with their wisdom teeth, and—and teeth serve a lot of very important purposes besides chewing. This could fuck up my ears, and my hearing—”

“Remus.”

He swallowed hard and clenched his jaw.

Sirius began tracing slow circles over his knuckles. “You know better than anyone why this is important, and it’s dangerous to keep them in any longer than you already have. I totally respect that you’re freaked out right now, but you’ve got to calm down. These guys do this all the time.”

“There are always exceptions.”

Yes, I know, I’ve been thinking about all those scenarios for the past two weeks. “And you won’t be one of them. How long did you spend finding this place, again?” There was a beat of silence. “Re.”

“Four hours,” he muttered.

“Exactly. You did your research.” Remus’ eyes wandered up to the clock and his grip tightened when he saw how little time was left until their appointment. Distraction, distraction—“Tell me why you chose this place.”

That got his attention. “What?”

“You spent four hours sifting through dentists’ offices online, right? Tell me why this one stood out to you.”

“Um. Well, I guess it was just a combination of things. They have really good ratings and this is where Leo got his out, which went well. He was on his feet within a week, which was impressive. The equipment is good quality and—”

“Remus Lupin?”

“Oh, fuck me.” The nurse raised her eyebrows at him, and he flushed deep red as Sirius hid a smile in his shoulder. “Sorry, sorry. Hi, that’s me. Remus Lupin. I’m…a little nervous.”

Her face softened as she walked over. “That’s perfectly normal. We have a little bit of paperwork for you to look over and then we’ll get started. Is this the person who will be driving you home?”

“That’s me. How long will it take?”

“Oh, an hour or so. Not long.” She handed Remus a pen before turning back to Sirius. “We do these procedures all the time, so there’s nothing to worry about. The surgery is quick and easy.”

Remus’ hand skidded across the page on the word ‘surgery’ and Sirius squeezed his thigh gently as he took a trembling breath. “Thank you for doing this on such short notice,” Sirius said with a smile while Remus read. “We really appreciate it.”

“Why does this have to be so important?” Remus mumbled as he signed the last page.

The nurse shrugged. “Human bodies are funny things.”

He snorted. “Tell me about it.”

“Are you a doctor?”

“I was a physical therapist for six years,” he said, handing the clipboard back to her. “Unfortunately, that means I know exactly why putting this off for so long was a bad idea.”

“I don’t know about a bad idea.” The nurse tilted her head to the side. “You still came in to do it before there were any problems, right? That seems pretty smart to me, and very brave.”

“She’s right,” Sirius said quietly, knocking their shoulders together. “You’ve got this, mon loup.”

The nurse waited patiently while he took a few deep breaths before standing up and hugging Sirius tight around the chest. “You’ll be here, right?”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He gave him a gentle kiss on the lips and the inside of his wrist. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

The tension returned to Remus’ shoulders as he followed the nurse out of the lobby; Sirius sat down and grabbed a magazine to distract himself for the next hour.

------------------------------

Twenty minutes later, the nurse came back out. Sirius stood up immediately as fear bolted through his chest. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” she soothed, taking the seat next to his with a sigh. “There was a bit of trouble getting him to fall asleep, though.”

“Oh?” Sirius tried to keep his voice neutral as he sat down, but even he could tell it didn’t work that well.

She gave him an amused look. “Your boy is stubborn. We get nervous people all the time, but he seemed to have a personal vendetta against our anesthesiologist. The countdown usually lasts three seconds, maximum, but I made it all the way down to five before he was out.”

“But he’s okay?”

“He’s just fine.” She patted his hand.

“He’s been avoiding this for about four years now.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Hates hospitals and dentists, but still got a medical degree.” Sirius huffed. “His mom threatened to drive here from Wisconsin and drag him in by the ear if he didn’t schedule it soon.”

The nurse smiled. “You’d be surprised by how many young folks we get in here shaking in their boots. It’s really not that bad of a procedure, but all you hear about are the times it went wrong.”

Sirius hummed in agreement. “Is it normal to be nervous for him?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good.”

“Lots of people cry while they’re waiting, though I haven’t quite figured out why. Feel free to do some wailing if you think it’ll help.”

“I’ll pass, but thank you for the offer,” Sirius laughed. There were a few heartbeats of comfortable silence before he spoke again. “I don’t like the idea of him being in there all alone.”

“Oh, honey, nobody does.” She gave his hand a quick squeeze. “We always want to be there for the ones we love. Boyfriend?”

“Fiancé.”

“When’s the wedding?”

“This summer.” He smiled to himself. “I’m really excited.”

“How long have you been together?”

“We’ve known each other for six years or so, but we’ve only been dating for one.”

They chatted back and forth, and Sirius felt his nerves melt away as the conversation turned to Harry, then Regulus and Jules, until a tall man in a white coat poked his head into the lobby. “Do we have a companion for Remus Lupin in here?”

Sirius raised his hand. “That’s me.”

“Come on back, he just woke up.”

The dentist’s office smelled different than a hospital, which Sirius was grateful for. Remus wouldn’t like waking up with the scent of rubbing alcohol all around him. The walls were painted a cheerful yellow with various murals for the younger patients—each room had its own name tag with stickers.

“Remus?” The doctor knocked on the door as he opened it. “We’ve got someone here for you.”

“Hmm?” Remus blinked sleepily at them from the table; his face was puffy from anesthesia and gauze.

“Hey, Re,” Sirius said, taking his hand and rubbing it between his own. “Are you ready to go home?”

Remus squinted at him for a long moment. “Did it hurt?” he asked.

“Did what hurt?”

A smile twitched at the edges of his mouth. “When you fell from heaven. Hiya, handsome, I’m Remus.”

“Oh my fucking god.” Sirius looked back at the doctor, who was hiding his laughter in his hand.

“Here’s your aftercare sheet,” he said, pushing the wheelchair a little closer and handing Sirius a piece of paper. “Can you get him outside by yourself?”

Sirius nodded. “It might take some manhandling, but I’ll be fine.”

“Damn right, you’re fine,” Remus snorted.

“Merde,” Sirius muttered. “Alright, you shameless flirt, can you sit up by yourself?”

Remus winked at him, though it was more like a slow blink. “Might take some manhandling. What’s your name, angel?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He shrugged as Sirius helped him clamber into the wheelchair. “I need something to yell.”

“Holy shit, Re!” Sirius spluttered, nearly steering him straight into the cupboards in surprise. “You can’t just say that in the middle of a dentist’s office!”

Remus frowned and glanced around the room. “Is that where I am?”

“Yes!”

“I don’t like dentists. Or hospitals. Super fuckin’ creepy.”

“Yes, I know.” The hall was mostly empty, thank god. “You’ve told me.”

“Have we met before?” Remus stared up at him and nearly went crosseyed. “You’re being so nice to me.”

“We’ve known each other for six years.”

“Huh. I really hope we’re dating, because there’s no way I’m passing up a chance to tap that.”

“You know, Leo was incredibly sweet when his wisdom teeth got taken out,” Sirius sighed as they went down the next corridor. “He called Finn ‘pretty’ and then only wanted cuddles for a few days. You, on the other hand, were apparently so stubborn that they had to spend twenty minutes putting you to sleep, and now you’re hitting on me like a drunk frat boy.”

“I can call you pretty if you want.” Sirius stopped walking as Remus reached up to trail a surprisingly steady hand down his cheek; some of the flirty mischief was replaced by awe. “You really are beautiful. What’s your name? For real this time, I want to know.”

“Sirius.”

“Like the star.” The corners of Remus’ eyes crinkled. “Brightest one in the sky. It fits.”

“Just for that, I’m going to let you in on a secret,” Sirius said as they neared the exit.

“Oh?”

“We’re engaged.”

“What?”

[football-writing]

Mason Mount - believe in me

Warning: contains mentions of mental health issues and depictions of a panic attack. Also is generally a bit of an angsty one so if you're not comfortable with reading any of that please skip this! And if you yourself are struggling with mental health, I'm always here for you! <3

*also panic attacks can differ from person to person so please take everything i've written with a grain of salt lmao

He was franctically looking for his car keys after the texts he had gotten from her.

"Mase can you come over?

i need u

please"

Double texting wasn't a rare occurence between the two of them, but the tone of texts made worry take over as he quickly texted her back that he'd be there soon.

And as soon as he found his keys, he was sprinting for his car and driving as fast as he legally could to get to her apartment, cursing as he couldn't find a parking spot quick enough for his liking. Then running up the stairs, taking two steps at a time to get to her as soon as possible.

Her door was open already, something she always did when she knew he was coming over, despite him scolding her for it everytime because he was scared someone was gonna break in and hurt her.

Those thoughts were on the back of his mind now as he rushed in, finding her sitting in front of her couch with her knees up to her chest, hugging them tight as her forehead was rested on top of them, shielding her face. Papers were spread around her, some crumbled up in balls, others thrown a few feet in front of her. The mess that was her apartment was a red flag for him, but it didn't shock him as much as the state she was in. Her breaths came out hard and fast as she barely could breath between her erratic sobs.

He stood frozen as he watched her. As quick as he got here, he had no idea what to do when he saw her like that. His chest tightened at seeing her like this, and he was ready to fight whichever bastard caused her to feel this way. Yet the rational side of him knew that that was of no use to her now. But what was? What was he supposed to do when his she was this upset? Sure he'd seen her upset before. But not like this.

He realised he couldn't just stand there either, and so took a few steps towards her. The sound of his footsteps alerted her of his presence, and she looked up through watery eyelashes. Her pale face stained with rundown mascara from her tears, her lips quivering as she silenced her sobs for a short moment to look at him. Yet as soon as she made eyecontact with him, and opened her mouth to try to explain what was going on, or apologise for the state she was in, a loud sob escaped, her breath stocking in her throat as tears flooded her eyes once again.

This time he didn't freeze, although his heart ached just as bad, if not worse. He took another couple of steps until he was right next to her, crouching down as his eyes remained focused on her form.

"Hey sweetheart. Shh, it's okay. Can I hug you, baby?" His tone was soft as he asked her, yet she shook her head vigorously and squeezed her eyes shut tightly at his question as her breathing instantly became more uneven, and he thought she was going to faint if her breathing came out any faster than it did now.

But how was he going to comfort her when she didn't want him to hold her?

It was then that he remembered one of his mates telling him about a panic attack he had, how he couldn't think straight, or breathe, barely utter out a coherent sentence as his mind had wandered to awful things, and although it had sounded rough to him at the time, seeing her like this made him fully recognise how terrifying it is. He wished he had asked his mate more about it, then, so he knew what to do. Although he had no idea how to start such a conversation with him. Nor with her, for that matter.

So he did what he thought would help her most. He picked up some of the papers spread out around her, neatly stacking them together as he emptied a space next to her. Enough so he could sit down there, his back against the couch just like hers. Soothing words spilled from his lips in an attempt to calm her down. He almost reached out a hand to touch her, rub her back soothingly, or stroke her hair to make sure it didn't get in her face. Yet he withheld his urge to do so, even if it was the most natural way for him to comfort her.

"Hey. You don't have to say anything, okay? It's gonna be okay, I'm here. Shh, it's okay, love. I'm not going anywhere."

His soothing words did nothing to ease her mind, her cries coming out more ragged than before. He had no idea how he could've possibly made it worse, and panicked as to what to say next. Instead, she started speaking, her words cut off by devestating sobs and hiccups and gasps as she tried to take in as much air as she could.

"I thought I had it under control but- but I don't and everyone hates me now. Everyone hates me! And there's too much and- I don't have time and everything is messed up and I don't know how to goddamn fix it - I can't fucking fix it. I don't know what to do- I can't do it, Mase. I can't do it." She repeated those last few words over and over like she was stuck in a bad mantra, her voice raw and loud and full of pain.

"Hey, babygirl. Shush, it's okay. No one hates you, alright. I wouldn't be here if I did, right?" He tried to reason with her, tried to swallow the lump in his throat and steady his voice, not wanting to let on how much it affected him. It would do her no good. "Just keep breathing, yeah. Deep breaths, babygirl, just like that." He said as he demonstrated how to do it. It took her a good few minutes to get her breathing under control again, but he was patient with her as he kept guiding her, words of encouragement filling the air every time her breathing threathened to become unsteady again.

After her breathing became steady, as steady as it could, her sobs still continued. Her eyes spilling tear after tear that ran down her cheeks only to be caught by the sleeves of her sweater that her chin rested upon.

"I'm such a failure. I can't even function properly and look at me! Look at the mess I made!" She cried out exasperated. "I'm so worthless Mase. You shouldn't even be here, I just bring you down. I'm no good Mason. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Y/N," He tone was commanding, forcing her to look up at him. He kept eye contact as he spoke. "If you cannot believe in yourself, believe in me. You are the most wonderful, funny, intelligent and allround beautiful person I know. You are not a failure. At all. Whatever this is, we can fix it, okay? I got you, and we'll figure it out together. I'm not going anywhere."

His words were reassuring enough for her to steady her breathing, which eased the tight feeling in his chest. She lifted her head too, instead opting to sit back against the couch completely, the back of her head resting on the seat.

"Can you-" a sob interrupted her softspoken words "distract me?" A whispered 'please' followed her question as she turned her face to look at him. Her eyes were puffy and red, as were her cheeks. She still looked incredibly upset, but her sobs were less loud, and she seemed to have calmed down considerably from the state she was in when he found her.

"Yeah. Of course." He smiled softly at her.

"Do you want me to tell you about my day?"

She nodded as she wiped her nose with the sleeve that was pulled over the back of her hand.

And so he told her all about what he had been up to. It felt weird talking about his day, after all it had been quite decent up until her text. Still, he tried to talk as animatedly as he could, knowing it would cheer her up. He told her about how his sister had texted him pictures of her daughter's birthday cake, or what was left of it as her daughter had eaten it. With her bare hands, that is. Her hands that she had also somehow rubbed over the entire dining table and parts of the couch.

The story got a small chuckle out of her, and after a few more sniffles she seemed to have stopped crying. Yet he told her about his training too, in hopes of hearing her beautiful laugh ring throug his ears once again. He told her about how him and some of his teammates had dared Ben to get in the washing machine, and locked him up for a bit too. How funny he looked through the little window of the machine, how one of his mates had nearly pissed himself laughing so hard, and how Thiago had come in with no clue what was going on, having the most confused look on his face as he saw Ben stuck in the washing machine. The others laughing even harder, some of them with tears in their eyes.

The story made a smile appear on her face, but it wasn't until he showed her the video on his phone that she actually let out a small laugh. She had scooted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder to watch the video.

Somewhere along the whole ordeal he had resorted to pulling his knees up, rubbing his own shins in comfort instead of reaching out to her. It was instinctual, really, and he hadn't even noticed he was doing it, or still doing it, until she rested her hand atop of his, stopping his movement in the process.

"Sorry for scaring you. And saying no to the hug." She said sincerely after a few beats of silence, her voice still hoarse from crying, her fingers intertwining with his.

"Hey, no apologising for any of this, okay?" His voice was stern; he absolutely did not want her to feel guilty.

"Sorry." Although he couldn't see her face, and her voice still sounded strained, he knew she was smiling as she said it. Their usual teasing being back on meant she was okay. As much as she could be okay at this very moment.

"What did I just say, huh?" He joked as he put his arm around her, squeezing her tightly for a second before tracing soothing patterns on her upper arm with his indexfinger.

"You have these often?" His voice was more gentle than before, his tone serious again as he stilled his movements in anticipation of her answer.

"Yeah, sometimes. They come and go, really." She confessed.

"How come you never told me?"

"I don't know. Just never came up. S'not something you just blurt out." She shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal, and he was quiet for a few beats before replying.

"I wouldn't have judged you, you know that, right?"

She hummed in response.

"Just want to make sure I know what to do to help you. How to make it more bearable for you."

"This was alright." Her voice was small, but his heart still warmed at her words.

He continued his tracing patterns on her arm then, as he contemplated what to say next.

"You want to talk about why it happened?" He could feel her tense under him as the question spilled from his mouth, and he scrunched up his nose in frustration as he cursed himself. Did he have to ask that and make her upset again?

"Not really. If that's okay?"

"Of course, love. I'm sorry. We don't have to talk about anything alright. We can do whatever you want. I'll do whatever you want my dear."

"Can we sit on the couch instead, then? My butt hurts from sitting on the floor." He let out a loud laugh at her sudden boldness. He knew they'd have another talk about it soon, once she wasn't as overwhelmed with emotions, and he hoped it wouldn't be necessary, but he wanted to learn more. Why she was stressed, what he could do to help her, both in situations like these, but also to prevent her from feeling like this at all.

"Will you cuddle with me, Mase?" She had made herself comfortable on the couch and grabbed the remote to look for something to watch on the telly, presumably her comfort series. Her voice cracked as she asked the question, and Mason smiled at that.

"I'll get you a glass of water first, 'ight?"

"And my blanket, please. It's in the right cupboard over there." She pointed to the right place as she smiled innocently at him. He rolled his eyes playfully at her request, pretending it was a mighty challenging request, and she stuck out her tongue in response. He also pretended not to hear her muttering something about spoiled footballers.

Still, it put a smile on his face. Even if she was still upset, knowing she could joke around with him, and felt comfortable enough doing so, meant that she wasn't in that bad place anymore. At least for now. He didn't want to risk her getting another panic attack while he wasn't there to help her though, so he opted to stay with her for the rest of the day and not moan about her jokes of him being a stereotypical footballer like he usually would.

It's not like he minded it all too much, anyway.

[starlightshadowsworld]

The Apology Scene redone (V8 C11) Part 1

(Finally reworking this WIP)

(*listens to Oz apologise and waits for RWBY+JNR to apologise back.... Waits*... You know what, fine I'll do if myself! Here's the apology...Orrrr everyone bonds, cries and Ozpin has another story to tell. 

Because I wanted this scene to be so much more than it was and hey its Oz and if the OPPS sever has taught me anything... There can always be more angst with Oz. I did try to make this as in character as I could.)

Ruby rose her head from Yang’s shoulder as the group walked in. Weiss and Blake sat beside the sisters, silently comforting the two making them smile a little. Ruby faced Oscar who was hanging back beside Jaune and Emerald, steadying herself. “Hey Oscar, is it okay if we speak to him?” Oscar blinked in surprise, pausing for a few seconds with concern flashing on his face before nodding slowly. Ruby frowned, she was tempted to ask what Ozpin has said but knew it was best not to ask. 

Something she wished hadn’t taken her so long to learn.

Oscar met Ruby’s gaze, he tried for a smile but it didn’t reach his eyes. How could he, not when Oscar could feel him. The fear that pulsed within him like a second heart, the only upside was it was no longer shut behind a door leaving him empty. ‘Oz...you don’t have to do this. I can just tell them what you want to say.” Reaching out for the others presence and being unable to stop the wave of relief when Ozpin reached back. ‘I appreciate the thought Oscar, but I cannot hide forever. This is something we must face together, that’s what you taught me.’ Oscar grumbled about annoying old wizards using his words against him and felt the others amusement run through him. 

Even if both were tense. 

“Hey guys...please don’t start fighting. Not just because I’m healing just...talk, okay.” Oscar did feel bad when he saw everyone’s mood dip, but not enough that make him apologise. They had deeply hurt Ozpin, done what thousands of years under Salem’s abuse had failed to do. He had grown incredibly fond of Ozpin’s company, and feeling him shut off from the world had left him pained. That did not erase the guilt Oscar himself had felt for giving them the tools to do it, only serving as further determination to help him heal. 

Yang nodded seriously “"no ones going to fight” she agreed. Oscar nodded, taking a deep breathe and gave the group one more look, a silent beg to please don’t mess this up before getting up. He walked to the chair Jaune had bought in, taking a seat as his eyes shone gold.

There was a silence, as they all looked for the right words to say before Ruby simply addressed him, “Hi, Professor Ozpin” she said. Just saying his name was enough to bring everyone back to the present, she hadn’t intended to call him professor. It wasn’t something she had done since he left...but it felt right. 

Ozpin met her gaze, if he was surprised to hear that title he didn’t say it. A smile, ever so small it was almost shy bloomed on his face “Hello, Miss Rose.” He turned his head, meeting team RWBY’s gaze in turn. “Miss Schnee, Miss Belladonna, Miss Xiao Long.” Weiss smiled softly, her hands clasped together “professor Ozpin” she echoed Ruby’s words finding that they came to her easily. Blake did the same, one of her ears twitched as she greeted him. Yang found that she couldn’t meet his gaze, nor speak but nodded in acknowledgement.

“Mr Arc, Miss Valkyrie, Mr Ren.” Greeted Ozpin, turning his gaze from Yang to JNR who were sat nearby. Jaune, much like Yang struggled to meet Ozpin’s gaze but managed a quiet “hey, Professor Ozpin”, Nora smiled and waved while Ren gave a distracted wave.

He’d seen purple petals floating around Emerald, her guilt for her previous actions, around Ozpin was a storm. That combined with the swirl of amber, fear around him gave Ren a sinking feeling. 

None of the others could see the petals of course, and Ozpin’s voice gave nothing away. But while he looked up to address them he was hunched over with his ever-present cane in his hands and not on his belt. And unlike the feather light touch he’d previously wielded it with, now it was held it in a vice grip. It was almost as if...

'Does he... Think we're going to attack?' Wondered Ruby, guilt blooming in her heart. She wanted to believe otherwise, but there last meeting had ended so terribly that she shouldn’t have been surprised. Ozpin, oblivious to the groups collective guilt greeted Emerald who nodded politely and Penny who shyly waved and was overjoyed when Ozpin smiled softly and waved back at her. 

Those two were completely at ease, Yang envied them a little. 

"I was recently reminded of an old fairy tale” said Ozpin, lowering his head as he did so. And even just hearing that familiar phrase, made everyone feel a certain warmth. That despite it all, this was still Ozpin “A young girl flees the consequences of a choice to a magical place... But having never learned from her initial failure, she only succeeds in spreading it..." No one needed to ask who that girl was. "I failed you all.” The words echoed throughout the manor, resigned and raw. “I hid, I lied.  I left you to deal with everything you weren’t ready for when you were scared and confused... And so much more."

There had always been a weight to Ozpin’s words, they group realised that from the moment they’d met him. Everything was said with an underlying meaning or message. But here...they knew at once that these words weren’t meant for just them. Yang thought of a photograph, of anger and feathers flying into the breeze. 

“It’s not your fault” began Ruby, pausing at his disbelieving gaze and instead followed with “we failed you too. We kept telling you to trust us, kept pushing you around and than...I’m sorry.”  The wizard before her shook his head, “you have nothing to be sorry about Miss Rose, you were all confused and afraid. You were left to navigate this war, a war I drew you into...you wanted answers I would not give, you did the right thing.” Said Ozpin, Ruby shook her head ready to continue... but someone beat her to the punch. 

“We did the right thing....” Said Yang, her voice barely above a whisper but the rage was almost tangible. Although she did try to keep herself calm, her eyes remaining there bright lavender. “I won’t say you didn’t lie to us...but exposing someone's trauma and kicking an already downed man after saying you wouldn’t...threating you and Uncle Qrow for the truth...none of that is right.”

That was not what Ozpin had been expecting. Especially not from her, she who he had expected anger, red eyes that reminded him tearfully of others and words to cut his heart the way so many had. It took him completely by surprise, Yang ignored the sinking feeling as she caught on. 

“You were angry, confused what other choice did you have? I would not have divulged such information so easily and how were you to know that’s what Jinn would show you?” Said Ozpin, he truly did not understand this. “That doesn’t make how we treated you afterwards any better, I mean seriously, what’s the difference between us and her.” 

That made Ozpin stop, wide eyed that they would even compare themselves to Salem. His demeanour hardened “You acted out of fear, not out of outright malice or hatred. Nothing was said that wasn’t correct, and if I know Qrow he’s already forgiven you all.” There was a finality in his tone, that that was the end of all this. He turned to Ruby “we have far more important matters to discuss.”

Yang was about to say otherwise but stopped, this was what caused there fight in the first place. They would drop it for now, but this conversation was far from over.  Ruby shifted uncomfortably, she wasn’t sure she wished to know.

“Right...Professor Ozpin have you ever seen a grimm like the hound before?”

[chokemeanakin]

Give Me Love

Chapter Ten

Wc: 2.7k

MASTERLIST

“Master,” Anakin faltered on his way to the piloting chair. His eyes lingered on you for a long moment, unreadable. “I was wondering where you’d run off to after Grievous fled. Looks like you’ve earned yourself another vacation.”

Grievous had thrown him off a building? You’d heard legends about how awful the part-human mostly-droid General was, but you’d never been at the same battle as him before. A small part of you wished to see if the stories people told about him were true-- if he really was the feared Jedi-killer he was known for being all across the galaxy.

“That won’t be necessary this time,” Kenobi was thankful for the banter. It gave him an excuse to get his mind off the searing pain in his arm. “Thankfully, I have Y/n here to fix me up good as new.”

“You’re right. She is extremely capable, isn’t she?”

His eyes twinkled, just slightly so that only you could catch it. You smiled, chest blooming with warmth as your fears were all washed away. Things weren’t different because he’d been gone for so long. He still cared for you, the same as you cared for him. The war couldn’t change that.

“I would trust no one more with my saber arm,” Kenobi grunted again as you began to wrap gauze around his shoulder, fitting it into a makeshift sling.

“Enough flatter,” you hushed them both, though the smile was evident on your face. “Keep this ice on your shoulder and take it off if it goes numb. And don’t move too much-- we won’t know if you broke a bone until we get you x-rayed.”

You let him take over holding the ice pack to his shoulder, reaching into your medcase for some painkillers. You were scraping the bottom of the bottle, honestly surprised you even had any left to spare.

“Lucky you, you get the last two.”

Kenobi grunted in an attempt to laugh, and swallowed the pills you gave him. After waving off your attempts to get him to lie down somewhere, he stood with a groan and braced himself on the back of Anakin’s piloting chair. He began to heckle him, trying to kick him off so you could have a look at his head.

“What’s wrong with your head?” Your heart stuttered in your chest. You had seen a trickle of blood on his cheek, but that was it.

“It’s nothing,” Anakin growled at Obi-Wan, but gave his seat up anyway so the injured man could sit. He pressed a few more buttons on the piloting interface, putting the ship on autopilot as he stepped away. “Y/n, I’m fine.”

You were already pushing him by the shoulders to sit on the chair Obi-Wan had previously been occupying. He sat with a huff, crossing his arms childishly as you turned his face in your hands.

“See?” he mumbled. “Nothing to worry about.”

His forehead had been gashed open, from the top of his hairline to the tip of his eyebrow. Your blood began to beat thicker in your veins, the panic causing your stomach to knot as you got to work dabbing the blood away with some alcohol cloths. It looked worse than it was-- the cut wasn’t deep enough to require stitches, but it had bled a lot. Head wounds always do.

He winced slightly as you cleaned the wound, the half-second of pain crumpling his face causing your movements to freeze.

“I’m sorry,” you stroked his jaw with your other hand, the one that was holding his face steady. You hoped it would distract him from the sting.

Those blue eyes stared at you the entire time, unperturbed. “It’s okay, really. I’ve had worse.”

You assumed he was right. If this scratch was all he’d come out with after weeks on the battlefield, he was either really lucky or really skilled. You guessed it was both. The evidence of less fortunate encounters rested on his right thigh, clad in a leather-buckled glove. You couldn’t even imagine what that pain had been like.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” you said this quietly, so Obi-Wan wouldn’t hear. Anakin brought his flesh arm up to hold your hand to his face, closing his eyes and relishing in the feel of your soft, smooth skin. He had desperately missed your touch, your voice, those steely eyes and that gentle strength. After so long wishing you were there to curl up beside him in the off chance he got to rest, you were finally here. Now, he was going to be selfish and make up for that lost time.

“We’ll be right back,” Anakin called to Obi-Wan with his eyes still closed, hand still holding your palm against his cheek. “Y/n’s going to come to engineering with me to help repair my arm.”

“Your arm? You mean the metal one? I didn’t know it was damaged.”

“Just a little waterlogged. Shouldn’t take too long… or maybe it will. We’ll see.”

Anakin stood, the tips of his fingers tickling yours. He led you out of the room, through the halls of the cruiser, slipping into an unoccupied resting room and slamming the lock on it.

“If you’re expecting me to know how to help you with your arm, you are very mistaken,” you admitted. “I know nothing about mechanics.”

Anakin blinked at you, and then laughed. That glorious, glorious laugh. His arms fell to his waist, where he unclasped his belt and then discarded it on the desk. His tabards came next, and then the robes underneath. You ogled him as he stripped, a steady flame rising to your cheeks, thawing out the weeks of grey-nothingness.

“Umm.. Anakin.. what are you doing?”

It was suddenly very hard to swallow as his bare middle was exposed to you, rippling with muscle. You wanted to reach out and touch him, but you were frozen in your spot, unable to do anything but stare.

“I’m getting out of these wet clothes so I can properly hold you,” he explained, bending down to dig through the drawers underneath the metal cot. He turned to eye you up and down, shamelessly lingering on every inch of your body. “I suggest you do the same.”

“Huh?” You looked down, seeing the blood stains splattered all over you. “Oh.”

He was pulling a loose-fitting recreational shirt over his head, the same kind that was supplied in all resting rooms for people to wear if they wanted to sleep in something more comfortable. You were still rooted in your spot, forcing yourself to gather enough wits to unzip your field suit.

All you were wearing underneath was a black undersuit, tight enough to leave little to the imagination. It was meant to keep you warm and wick away moisture, not to be seen in by any incredibly sexy Jedi Knights. Your heart hammered in your chest, skin beginning to sweat as his eyes probed into you.

“You need help unzipping?”

“Uh… I got it,” your fingers snapped to your zipper, now that he was watching you, you didn’t want to be a fumbling idiot.

You were glad for when he seemed to become enamored by the state of his clothes, and you knew it was for your sake. Still, it did little to calm the pounding of your heart as the suit dropped to your ankles, every inch of your black-spandex clad body now available to his eyes.

Get it together. Your chest was visibly moving up and down as you fought to control your breathing, almost panting with anxiety. It’s not like you were naked. What a fucking virgin.

He turned from his pile of clothes, those blue eyes making no effort to hide the way they scanned you up and down. All you could do was stand there at his mercy, burning under that stare.

You expected him to frown. To snarl and pull away and tell you to get dressed again. How disgusted, he should be, you thought. How appalled.

You knew you didn’t have the best body. You’d been to enough nightclubs, seen enough people naked in your workstation, watched enough programs on the holonet to know that. You had always wanted to be like Ahsoka and Sabè— they were slim and toned, long and graceful. Their cheeks were sharp, their fingers elegant, and waists tiny. Your thoughts turned to Padme— his past lover— horrifying you further.

You were nothing like her.

That tiny frame, the beautiful face, and the perfect body. She was so smart, so important, and shaped so womanly. You were nothing to compare.

How could he even stand to look at you?

“Okay, I guess I’ll come to you then,” that silky voice teased, and suddenly you were wrapped in a pair of big, strong arms. It took a moment for your breath to return to your lungs before you realized he hadn’t pushed you away, and instead he was clutching you to his body like a starving man.

“I missed you,” he breathed into your ear, cementing this reality. Your body erupted in a flurry of butterflies, warming you from the inside out.

He didn’t care. He didn’t care. He still liked you. He missed you. Even after seeing your body like this.

“I missed you, too,” you returned his words with emotion thickening your voice, bringing your arms up to wrap around him as well. He sighed at the feeling of your arms on his back, melting further into your neck.

“Wanna move this to the bed?”

He did most of the work shuffling your embrace onto the metal cot, lying down and pulling you so that you were on top of him. You were beginning to think you actually just had a heart condition, because it was beating out of rhythm constantly now, your pulse spiking and temperature rising at this new position.

You loved it.

He was hard, and warm, and strong beneath you. You were able to lay your head on his chest, stare at the exposed skin of his neck as he rested his chin on your head. Your legs slotted between his, so long in comparison to yours, while his arms secured you to his body around your back.

You’ve never felt safer in your entire life.

Still… you couldn’t help but wonder. Were you crushing him? Was he uncomfortable? What if he was and he was just too polite to make you get off? These thoughts caused you to tense up in his arms, suddenly rigid with fright.

“What’s wrong?” He caught onto your worries immediately. His hand smoothed up and down your back, hoping to soothe your tense muscles.

Maker, you were sick of being the insecure one in this relationship. You wanted nothing more to lie on the man you adored’s chest. Anyone else could do it. Why couldn’t you?

Relax. You hissed at yourself. Relax relax relax relax relax—

“Am I making you uncomfortable again?” The pieces clicked in his head, and the brush of his hand against your back stopped. “I’m moving too fast, aren’t I? I’m sorry, I should have asked—“

“No.”

You wiggled your body, wordlessly begging him to resume his motions. You clutched tighter to his shoulders, dug your head deeper into chest, even turned to plant a small, lingering kiss to his collarbone.

“You’re fine. I’m fine. We’re okay.”

“Yeah?” The smile was evident in his voice.

“Yes.”

You could never ask someone to make more of an effort to make you feel comfortable around them than Anakin did. And he did it with no price held over your head, no expectations, no pressures. If your timid nature put him off, he never let you see it. Honestly, you were surprised he was still here. Any other guy, you wholeheartedly believed, would be running in the other direction when they realized you couldn’t even hold eye contact with them for longer than 5 seconds.

But this shyness— it was exclusive to Anakin. You wouldn’t be this way with anyone else, and it frustrated you to no end.

The least you could do was prove that his patience was paying off, and take a leap yourself.

You planted your hands on either side of his body, pushing yourself up so that you were hovering right over his face. Your knees followed, holding your weight as you sat yourself onto his lap.

Scandalous, for the amount of clothes you were wearing.

A surge of confidence ran through you at the surprise that crossed his features. His eyes were wide, confused, as you took his face in your hands, brushing his hair back from his forehead.

This was your domain. You had always been the mynx of the group, luring men in and then leaving them cold. You loved the power it gave you, the ability to promise everything and then take it all away. It left them yearning for you, begging for you. And you loved it.

Sabè and Ahsoka were entertained to no end, watching you string along guys all night just to leave them hanging by the end. It was all a game to you, the flirting and teasing and wooing. You loved to feel needed, to feel wanted, but you never actually planned to do anything more with them.

So when the night ended, and you wanted to go home, you would break the game off and leave them feeling cold, and angry, and cheated. That’s when you’d get cussed out by egotistical whiny men, demeaned and degraded until their little hearts felt satisfied. To be fair, you never promised that anything would happen. It was simple flirting. It was completely on them that they expected things to go any further than that.

That’s why when Anakin came around, you felt like you had been run over by a speeder. He was the only one capable of making you feel like a bug next to him. Every moment he had you tripping and stumbling, your heart stuttering out of time, your cheeks burning with bashfulness, you hated yourself. How could you let one man have that kind of effect on you? It was pathetic.

But now, you were determined to get a little part of your old self back. You wanted to feel in control again, to have that power. He was just a man, after all, and most men were the same. You just needed to dangle, and they’d be all over you.

You continued to smooth his bangs away with the tip of your finger, ignoring the adorable look of confusion he had on his face. Actually, he seemed to really be enjoying himself despite not understanding where this was coming from, so much that his eyes were closing and he was thinking about maybe taking a little nap.

With his eyes closed, it was easier to lean your face in further. Your eyes zeroed in on those perfect pink lips, so full and inviting and soft, even after weeks of brutal combat. You wondered how they would feel on your own, how he would respond to you kissing him. You could imagine the way he might sigh and cup your face, pulling you closer and kissing you deeper. Sharp pangs of longing twisted your stomach into knots.

Anakin could feel your soft breath on his lips. His heart thrummed in his chest, fingers tightening on your waist. Were you going to—?

He was ready for it, no matter what it was.

Just as he was sure you were going to press your lips against his, you pulled away, planting a teasing kiss to his cheek instead. With no explanation, you fit your head back onto his shoulder, lying down against his body again.

What was that all about?

He opened his eyes, glancing down to see you resting with your head buried in your neck. You were like a kitten, breathing quickly and softly, a small smile curling your lips.

He dismissed the thoughts to analyze for another time. Right now, his body ached and his head throbbed. Your figure was soft and warm against his, and your calming presence was making his eyelids grow heavy. He decided to take your lead, and followed you off to sleep.

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[longing-and-heartache-and-lust]

the drug, the dark, the light, the flame, Ch.XII.ii

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Behold, a new - very emotional - chapter of my work for this year’s @geraskierbigbang in collaboration with my favourite @gen-syz-art as my artist 💕

come take a look at the incredible art for this chapter by the one and only @gen-syz-art right here ✨

and please, mind the tags on Archive

______________________

Geralt keeps himself busy with taking notes from a bestiary he’d found on one of the shelves in the library a few days ago, and he doesn’t even notice as a few hours go by.

It’s only when he hears the familiar tap-tap-tap of Asra’s and Lucio’s claws against the floor that he realises Jaskier must’ve woken up and let them out of the room.

The dogs make their way to Geralt, wagging their tails and licking his hand when he reaches out to pet them, and he needs to shift closer to one side of the chair to make space for Asra that has taken to curling up next to him and sleeping with her head in his lap.

He doesn’t mind it though he knows that it makes Lucio a little jealous.

“Would you look at you two, simply made for each other,” Jaskier teases, coming into the room.

He’d changed from the clothes he’d had on in the morning, and is now wearing a chemise of black silk, adorned with intricate emerald-green lace on the cinched wrists and the high neckline. It’s a pattern of leaves and flowers, all woven together close enough for there to be barely any skin showing.

“You look beautiful,” Geralt says, without even thinking about it, and Jaskier blushes under his gaze.

“What did you do here without me?” he asks, coming closer and giving Asra a jealous little look.

Geralt gestures to his notes on the table beside the chair and the open bestiary on top of them. He wants to get Asra back onto the floor, and have Jaskier in his lap instead of her, but she might take offence in that, and Geralt just isn’t willing to risk it.

He is, however, fully entitled to just stand up and move to the settee, which is exactly what he does, taking Jaskier with him by the hand.

Asra raises her head and snorts at him but doesn’t really protest, especially when Lucio jumps up onto the chair, and they curl up together.

“Can’t get your hands off me, can you?” Jaskier teases when Geralt pulls him down onto the settee, but he goes willingly, regardless.

He settles comfortably against Geralt’s chest, a pleased little rumble escaping his lips when the witcher pulls a blanket over both of them, keeping out the cold. It’s not winter just yet, but there are only a few more weeks left. And Redania has never really been warm.

“You don’t have to stay in the mansion all the time, you know,” Jaskier murmurs after a little while of comfortable silence. “If you want to go hunting or maybe just take Roach out for a ride, you can. I don’t want you to feel like you must stay on this side of the gates just because I do.”

Geralt hasn’t really thought about it. But knowing that Jaskier cares makes his chest feel warm.

“I like it here with you,” he says, running his fingers through the bard’s hair. “But I could bring you little things from the outside, like berries or herbs, make you feel more connected to the world.”

Jaskier hums, nuzzling against his chest and pressing a kiss to it through the fabric of Geralt’s shirt.

“Little rocks,” he says.

“What was that?”

“Little rocks. Pebbles from the river. Sometimes there are colourful ones, I used to collect them when I was in the Academy.”

“I’ll bring you little rocks, then,” Geralt agrees, and it might just be the most sentimental thing he’d ever said to anyone. “The colourful ones.”

Jaskier raises his head from his chest and leans in, leaving a warm, grateful kiss on Geralt’s lips. It makes the witcher shiver all over.

Before Jaskier can break away, he kisses him again, just as soft, and the bard returns it, shifting just enough to get a better angle. Even as he breaks the kiss to take in a breath, their lips still touch, and then Geralt can feel the wet brush of his tongue on his lips.

Jaskier doesn’t deepen the kiss, just teases, and though Geralt allows him to play his little games, he’s got a few tricks of his own.

Leaving one hand where it’s resting on Jaskier’s waist, he brings the other one higher, running his fingers up the line of the bard’s spine, and the way he gasps when Geralt brushes over the mark in-between his shoulder blades might just be the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

“Unfair,” he whispers into Geralt’s ear, but the next moment he’s already shifting to straddle his hips.

Geralt doesn’t let himself give in that easily.

“No,” he grins, rolling his hips just enough for Jaskier to feel it. “What was unfair is you teasing me when I was here last time, making it harder and harder to resist.”

Jaskier runs the tips of his fingers over the top three buttons on Geralt’s shirt, and they open, giving him better access to the witcher’s neck. Geralt nearly whines at the little pinpricks of magic against his skin.

“You didn’t have to resist, Geralt,” Jaskier murmurs, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the witcher’s neck, right under the sharp of his jaw. “You could have just taken what you wanted.”

Feeling braver, Geralt tugs on the hem of Jaskier’s chemise, untucking it from the waist of his trousers, and slips his hand under the thin fabric, nearly burning himself with the heat of Jaskier’s skin. He wants to be more patient, but it’s been months of all those feelings burning in his chest, and he just can’t bring himself to.

Jaskier arches his back and presses his hips closer to Geralt’s as the witcher rucks his chemise up to his chest and runs both his hands up his sides, catching Jaskier’s lips in a kiss just in time to drink in his trembling little moan when he runs his fingers directly over the mark on his back.

“Is it really that sensitive?” he murmurs when Jaskier breaks away, his breathing hot against Geralt’s skin.

Jaskier nips at his lower lip in revenge, almost hard enough to break the tender skin.

“Yes,” he growls, pressing a hard, possessive kiss to Geralt’s neck and rolling his hips against his. “And if you keep doing that, you’ll pay for it later.”

Oh, but that is just way too tempting to resist.

“You need to work on your threats,” Geralt grins, dragging his nails down Jaskier’s back, gentle enough not to cause any pain.

Jaskier sucks in a breath, back arching, and hides his face in the cure of Geralt’s shoulders, shuddering all over.

Geralt medallion hums against his chest with the magic radiating off Jaskier, and on the desk by the window, all the books fly open, the pages turning as if disturbed by a sudden gust of wind.

“Fuck,” Jaskier breathes, and it’s so close to a whine that Geralt nearly loses his mind. “I can’t fucking control my magic when I’m with you.”

And gods, that might be the most incredible thing anyone’s ever said to Geralt.

He’s very aware of just how hard he is from merely a couple of kisses, and there is nothing he wants more than to flip them both around, lay Jaskier down onto the soft cushions and take him apart bit by bit, until he’s whimpering and shaking, but even more than that, he’s aware of just how important it is not to rush.

“We can slow down, if you want to,” he murmurs, pressing a warm, comforting kiss to Jaskier’s cheek. “I want you to be comfortable.”

Jaskier hums something, leaning into Geralt’s touch when he wraps his arms around his waist, gently brushing over the soft skin with his thumb.

“I am comfortable,” he says, averting his eyes almost apologetically. “I just need to adjust a little. I can barely contain my power when you touch me like that.”

Geralt tips his chin up and pulls him into a long, calming kiss.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he grins once Jaskier breaks away.

Jaskier rolls his eyes affectionately, and settles in more comfortably again, resting his head on Geralt’s shoulder.

It takes a little while for Geralt’s veins to stop burning but Jaskier’s steady breathing calms him, and really, just having him in his arms is enough.

There’s going to be time for everything else.

***

They stay in the library for the entire day, never really letting go of each other, and when Arthur comes in to bring them hot wine, he gives them a little look and Geralt could swear that he hides a smile beneath his moustache.

At some point, Asra and Lucio try to join them, but the settee isn’t big enough for all of them at once, so Jaskier gives them an apologetic look and feeds them treats that appear in his hand out of thin air.

Geralt can’t help but kiss him every chance he gets, still not quite able to believe that he’s allowed to do that now, and Jaskier smiles into his lips and kisses him back every time.

Dinner seems like an insufficient reason to get up, so they both just skip it, earning themselves another look from Arthur, this one slightly more disapproving. Jaskier gives him a charming smile in return and pointedly kisses Geralt on the corner of his lips.

It’s comfortable and easy, like they’ve known each other forever. Like everything has finally fallen into place.

“You know, I’ve had a lot of people in this mansion over the years,” Jaskier murmurs, tilting his head to sneak a look at Geralt. “But I’ve never spent entire days in the arms of any of them. Only you.”

He reaches up to brush his thumb over Geralt’s cheek, the sleeve of his chemise riding up, and the witcher already parts his lips to answer when he finally notices.

A cold shiver runs down his back, breath getting stuck in his throat, and Jaskier must notice that, because within seconds, he’s on his feet, holding his arm to his chest like a broken wing. His eyes are widened with fear, and the scent of it comes off him in waves, so strong that it’s overwhelming.

Still feeling like he’s unable to breathe, Geralt sits up slowly, careful not to startle Jaskier with any sudden movement, and his heart is beating so hard in his chest that it hurts.

“Jask--” he says softly. “What is that?”

He stands up to take a step towards the bard, but he backs away from him, terrified, tears shining in his eyes.

“It’s nothing,” he says, voice shaking.

Slowly, Geralt takes another step, holding both his hands up in a conciliatory gesture. Jaskier doesn’t move away from him, but he still holds his arm to his chest, shaking all over.

“Jaskier,” Geralt tries again, carefully closing in the distance between them until he is standing right in front of him. “Please. Let me see?”

Jaskier shakes his head stubbornly, clenching his fingers tighter.

“It’s nothing, Geralt, really--”

“Please,” the witcher repeats, cutting him off and holding his hand out. “I won’t hurt you. Just let me see.”

The seconds that go by in silence feel like an eternity, disturbed only by Jaskier’s soft sobs, until finally, very slowly, he takes his arm away from his chest and places his wrist in Geralt’s hand.

Geralt undoes the three little buttons on the side of his sleeve with shaking fingers, and Jaskier turns away, closing his eyes shut, tears glistening in his cheeks, as Geralt rolls his sleeve up.

There, on the perfect pale skin, is a long vertical scar, running from the bend of Jaskier’s wrist and all the way up to the middle of his forearm. Geralt knows enough about the marks that blades can leave on skin to know that it’s deep without having to touch it.

Geralt can feels his ears ringing even as he says:

“And the other one?”

Jaskier gives him his other arm without any words or resistance, but the broken sob that escapes his chest shatters Geralt’s heart into pieces.

“Jask--” he calls softly, reaching with his other hand to brush the bard’s hair out of his face, but when he tries to turn him towards him, Jaskier resists, refusing to open his eyes and look at him.

He’s still holding his other arm out, and Geralt takes it gently, forcing himself to take in a breath.

He undoes the buttons, and though he knows that there is going to be another scar on that arm, it still feels like a stab to the chest to roll up Jaskier’s sleeve and see it.

It’s identical to the one on his right arm, just as long and deep, and Geralt feels like his heart rips open in his chest with pain.

He should be used to scars but these ones take all air away from his lungs.

“I didn’t want you to know,” Jaskier sniffles, voice still shaking, and when Geralt raises his head, he finds the bard looking at him, blue eyes clouded up with tears. “Thought I could hide them from you for just a little longer.”

He looks so scared, so broken, and he’s still shaking all over as Geralt pulls him into his arms, holding him tightly against his chest. His eyes burn with tears, and he shuts them, pressing his lips to Jaskier’s temple.

“It’s alright,” he whispers, running his fingers through Jaskier’s hair to comfort him. “It’s alright, I’m here.”

Jaskier clings onto him, shaking with silent tears, and Geralt holds him, whispering comforting little things and leaving kisses on his temple even as his own heart bleeds in his chest.

The thought of losing him long before they even met hurts much more than he ever could’ve thought.

Time stretches and passes by without Geralt knowing if it’s been minutes or hours. After what seems like an eternity, Jaskier’s sobs quiet down, and his tears dry, but he doesn’t let go of Geralt, his body still trembling.

After seemingly just as long, Geralt finally takes in enough air to ask:

“Why did you do it?”

Jaskier doesn’t respond for a few long seconds, just breathing, before breaking away to look at Geralt.

“I was scared,” he says quietly, letting Geralt take his wrists into his hands again. “I’ve been here for a little over three years when I noticed that I’m changing, that I’m growing older. I was only twenty-one, and no-one else would’ve noticed the difference, but I did. And it was-- gods, it was hard enough already, with being unable to step outside, trying to get a proper control of my power and just being alone, but that… it just hit me so much harder than I was able to take.”

Twenty-one. He could’ve died at twenty-one.  

“I tried not to think about it, I really did,” Jaskier says, his gaze falling onto his forearms. “But it became something that I couldn’t get rid of. Every time I saw myself in the mirror, I felt like it was getting worse. And I was so scared, so fucking scared of just slowly growing old and dying in this mansion, without ever taking another step outside, that one evening it just-- it just became too much.”

There are tears in his eyes again, running down his cheeks in wet lines, but he doesn’t take his hands away to wipe them off.

“I wanted control over at least something in my life, Geralt. And if I couldn’t choose the way I lived, I wanted to choose the way I died. I couldn’t stand the thought of just slowly rotting away within these walls, torn away from the outside world and completely forgotten by it, so I just… I decided to end my life before it could happen.”

Geralt can feel himself shake, and the longer he looks at the scars on Jaskier’s arms, the worse it gets. Just the thought of how scared he must’ve been to try and take his own life feels like it re-opens all of Geralt’s own scars, making him burn and bleed all over.

He can’t think of anything that he would not have done for Jaskier not to have those marks on his arms.

“Arthur found me,” Jaskier chuckles humorlessly. “The dogs felt the scent of blood and started barking, waking him up. I was unconscious by then but from what he’d told me, he’d knocked on my bathroom door for about a minute before breaking it down. Found me in the tub, stopped the blood, carried me to bed. I slept through four days straight, according to him.”

Geralt forcibly makes himself calm down, recalling everything he’d even been taught in Kaer Morhen. His mind keeps racing, but his body reacts like it had been trained to, and finally, he manages to stop himself from trembling.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that--” he says, barely above a whisper. “Gods, Jask, I’m just--”

He hates that he can’t find the right words, and he shuts his eyes again, leaning down to touch his lips to Jaskier’s wrists, leaving hard, dry kisses on both scars.

Jaskier flinches but doesn’t take his hands away.

“It took me a long time to recover after that,” he says quietly. “Not only physically, but mentally. I’ve spent a month in bed, barely getting up and just fucking crying. Everything hurt, especially the scars, and every time I moved my arm wrong, the pain just paralysed me.”

He sways a little on his feet, and pulls Geralt down onto the hide in front of the fireplace with him. Asra and Lucio jump down from their chair and come closer, sniffing and licking at him, and Jaskier smiles through the tears, hugging them both.

“They were still fresh when one night Arthur woke me up and said that there is a woman at the gates, begging to be let in,” he says, leaning into Geralt’s arms when the witcher opens them. “She turned out to be a mage. She was badly hurt and on the run from the witch hunters, so I hid her here.”

He seems to be calming down now, resting his back against Geralt’s chest, and as his breathing evens out, Geralt can feel himself being able to breathe again, as well.

He holds Jaskier in his arms, rocking gently from side to side, and presses soft kisses to his neck and shoulders. His heart is still beating too hard and too fast for a witcher but he listens without interrupting, letting Jaskier say everything that he needs to.

“I will tell you about her some other day, if you want me to,” Jaskier says, and Geralt can hear just how tired he is, how much this conversation is taking out of him. “But she stayed with me for a little over a month, healing her wounds and planning her next steps, and when she was ready to leave, she told me that in return for my kindness towards her, she would like to grant me any wish I choose. Of course, I asked her to break the curse. But even as I was saying those words, I knew that it’s too intricate to be broken that way.”

Asra and Lucio poke at him with their noses, whining in concern, and Jaskier smiles at them, leaning down to kiss both dogs on the noses.

“It’s alright, my loves,” he reassures before tilting his head to brush his lips over Geralt’s jaw and address him again. “But when she told me that it’s a curse that can only be broken by the mage that had cast it or by meeting the requirements, she also offered me something else. Over her days here, she’d noticed the healing scars on my arms, and when she asked, I just told her. So she offered me a deal. You’re going to stay young as long as you have a reason to live, she said. It seemed a little too good to be true, but I still took it.”

Jaskier turns around in Geralt’s arms and gently brushes a stray lock of his hair out of his face, tucking it behind his ear. Geralt leans into the touch, closing his eyes, and it’s almost unexpected when Jaskier touches a gentle kiss to his lips.

And just as the meaning of Jaskier’s words fully sinks in, he says:

“Now, I don’t look twenty-five, do I?”

Geralt’s eyes fly open and it feels like he sees Jaskier for the first time, like he properly sees him for the first time. Because he’s right, He doesn’t look twenty-five. He looks twenty-one.

“It worked,” Geralt whispers.

The smile that Jaskier gives him is tired and small, but it still reaches his eyes.

“It worked,” he echoes. “And it gave me a reason to go on. Made me feel like I have it in me to keep looking for a way to break the curse without the constant fear of running out of time. And, gods, I’ve always been grateful for it but after I met you-- I’m happy I didn’t die that night.”

The words echo through Geralt’s mind what feels like a hundred times, and his chest gets so tight that he’s more than sure that his ribs are about to break.

He pulls Jaskier to his lips, kissing him with such desperation that it hurts, and Jaskier returns it fully, clinging onto Geralt’s shoulders. There is barely any air to breathe, but that doesn’t matter with just how much everything that he’d just heard makes Geralt feel.

“We’ll find a way to break it,” he whispers into Jaskier’s lips in-between kisses. “We will.”

“I know,” Jaskier nods. “I know, darling.”

He sounds exhausted, and though he’s not trembling anymore, Geralt knows that he needs to get some proper rest, needs to recover.

“You should go to bed,” he says softly, pressing a warm, chaste kiss to the bard’s forehead. “You’re tired.”

Jaskier hums something, hiding his face in the curve of Geralt’s shoulder for a few long seconds before breaking away and getting up, unsteady on his feet. Geralt does the same, never letting go of the bard’s hand.

“Geralt?” Jaskier calls softly, raising his head to meet the witcher’s eyes. “Could you stay with me for the night? After everything I’ve told you, I don’t want to be alone.”

Stay with him for the night.

Geralt’s heart skips a beat.

“Of course,” he says, closing his eyes when Jaskier leans into his arms again. “Of course, my love.”

[lailannajacobs]

Breakfast with a King, How Romantic. | GIBP II

Pairing: fey!Loki x fem!reader

Chapter Summary: Loki tells his court about your arrival & the two of you have breakfast together. 

Warnings: None! 

Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: So this chapter was originally supposed to be longer, but in the midst of finals I only had time to edit about half of it, so here it is! And also, I know I’ve added a bunch of marvel characters to this world, but I promise it’s about it! Hope you enjoy! It makes my day to hear what you think! <3 

When Loki awoke a little before dawn, his body felt unnaturally tired but he ignored the feeling and pushed out of bed. It was nothing a little coffee and breakfast wouldn’t cure and he got ready for another day of fending off the vultures that were his council. He stopped for a moment, half dressed, reminding himself to breathe. Walking out of his room as anything other than king would only jeopardize everything he’d been working toward.

Before leaving for the kitchen, he listened for any sound that YN might be awake. The silence reassured him that she wasn’t about to walk out of her room and ruin his entire plan before he had a chance to properly put in place. He didn’t want the council getting wind of her arrival before the pre-dinner drinks tonight.

The hallways were empty at this hour and he was thankful he could mosey over to the kitchen through hooded lids and heavy steps. Loki basked in the silence until laughter burst from the kitchen, letting him know his court was already there. He had been hoping to get something in his stomach before answering all their questions, but they’d beat him here. The thought of going back to bed crossed his mind, but he rarely had all of them in the palace at the same time and knew he had to catch Bucky before his assassin disappeared for the next few days.

Bucky smirked when Loki walked in, “rough night?”

The Dark Elf was in a good mood this morning, the brollochan that shrouded him like dark smoke wafting further away from him than usual. The air around Bucky was cold and dead, but the morning bustle of the cooks and the heat of the kitchen smothered most of it — one of the few reasons they spent more time in here than in any of their offices. Bucky took a bite of his muffin, pale blue eyes assessing then took his booted feet off the table and sat up straighter. Loki had been hoping he’d be able to pretend nothing had happened last night until he’d eaten something, but nothing got past his assassin.

“What happened?” Bucky asked, light-hearted grin gone.

The tone caught his commander’s attention. The angel righted, breaking off her conversation with Gamora to come a little closer. Gamora stayed where she was, a knowing little smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She knew exactly what was going on, but she’d be no help to him, choosing to sit back and enjoy the show instead.

Loki’s master of information cocked her head curiously with a kind of calm opposite to the tense energy that radiated from his assassin and commander. He nodded at Wanda and took in a deep breath.

“Can I get myself a coffee before the interrogation begins?” Loki asked.

Nebula raised a brow, tucking in her metallic, indigo wings to let him go by, “that’s already your second this week.”

“Next week I won’t have any,” he grumped, then tried to soften his tone, knowing the coffee and chocolate rations weren’t any more her fault than his own, “I found YN.”

Everyone stopped moving.

“Where is she?” Nebula, never one to be stunned for long, was all business, her mind already going through a million different scenarios.

Loki knew he was about to be scolded so her turned toward the counter to make his coffee, “sleeping in the princess’ room.”

“And you didn’t think to wake any of us?” she snapped, “just because that thing gave us her name doesn’t mean that YN isn’t a threat to us.”

“I’m pretty sure he knows that, Neb,” Bucky chuckled, shooting her a teasing grin that earned him a punch on the arm, “Loki can take of himself…Or at least I hope he can. And anyways, if we’ve never heard of her, she can’t be all that powerful a fey.”

Loki only tensed for a second but he should have known they wouldn’t miss it.

“She is Fey, right?” Wanda asked warily.

Loki turned around slowly, his court’s eyes all on him with an intensity he knew was justified. They’d been trying to find YN for over two moons now and when they’d concocted this fake queen plan, they had always assumed she would be Fey. Convincing the council that Loki had a love he’d been keeping secret for all this time and been near impossible when he’d only had a name to go on. Finding her, only to realize she was human, didn’t make things much easier.

He shook his head.

Wanda bounced her fork up and down off her other thumb, “what is she?”

Gamora answered before Loki could, “human.”

They all whirled to face her. Loki was about to ask her why she hadn’t warned any of them about this if she’d seen what YN was, but she pressed before he had a chance to.

“No I didn’t see it,” she snapped as if she’d read his mind, “I saw her wandering the halls on my way here, and unless she’s an elemental, she looked very much human to me.”

Loki’s heart dropped in his chest.

“You let her roam free?” Nebula shouted incredulously, her wings flaring slightly.

He winced, “technically, I left her in her room.”

Bucky grinned, a look that earned him a deadly stare from Nebula, “you’re off to a great start with your future queen,” he laughed.

“We won’t have a future queen if she’s wandering around the palace and gets caught by the wrong people,” she chided, “is that what you two fangslugs want?”

Bucky tossed her a a bread roll that she caught deftly mid-flight, “between the five of us, I think we can find one human.”

Loki gulped down his scalding coffee and was about to rush out but was hit with a thought before he could make it past the door.

He spun to face his court, “no one approaches her for now. She’s human in a realm full of Fey and a palace full of council members who won’t hesitate to make her life miserable. I don’t want her scaring.”

“Don’t you think a friendly face would help?” Wanda pointed out, sliding the pad of butter to the least friendly face there.

Nebula scowled.

Bucky crossed his arms, a cheeky grin on his face, “I don’t know what you mean? We’re friendly.”

Loki couldn’t help but chuckle, “somehow I doubt a human will find any of you friendly looking.”

“If she walks into the library and finds me,” Maximoff said, grinning along with the rest of them, “there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m just doing my job.”

Loki knew that out of all of them, Wanda’s human-like appearance probably made her the least threatening. He nodded thoughtfully, “Maximoff, do your thing. If she finds you fine, but don’t seek her out. Everyone else, give her space.”

Wanda gave him a thumbs up, “sure. You’d better go find her, Laufeyson. Who knows where this terrified human you’ve brought to our palace has ended up.”

Loki rolled his eyes at Wanda’s sass but knew she was right. He needed to find YN before she did something incredibly stupid.

The halls were quiet this early in the morning, but you did cross several maids as you roamed. Few had looked up as you’d walked past and the ones that did, didn’t let show that there was anything strange with your being here.

You were surprised you’d managed to get some sleep after what had happened last night. The only explanation was that you’d never slept in a bed so comfortable in your life and that it had somehow managed to combat your whirling mind. Once you’d woken up though, you knew there was no point staying in bed. If you could find the Hand before the king found you, then you could be out of here before you had to fulfill your end of the bargain. And that was a gamble you were willing to take.

The pendant was heavy against your chest and you had the sinking feeling that it was colder than it was yesterday. You stopped at an intersection in the corridors, twirling it between your fingers, trying to settle the mix of anger and fear bubbling up inside you. You felt rooted to the floor, lost in a maze of hallways, wearing a stranger’s clothes you’d found last night in a drawer. You didn’t know what you were doing. You wanted Nat at your side. You wanted to know that she was safe and that everything would be okay. You wanted to know that all the time you’d be spending here wouldn’t make everything worse, but you knew all those wishes were in vain. The two of you had barely been managing for too long now, and your luck was bound to run out sometime. You couldn’t help but feel terrified that the sometime was now.

You stopped picking at the skin on your lip, rolled your shoulders back and jut up your chin. It wasn’t much more than the illusion of confidence, but the act made you feel a little better anyways. Worrying and complaining would only set you in the wrong direction. Pick a destination and steer toward it, my little lion. The memory of his voice steadied your heart and you focused on your two choices: find the Hand or pretend to be the future queen of Asgard. No pressure either way, right? You snorted. Right.

“Do you always mutter to yourself?” he asked.

You jumped. You hadn’t even heard him come up and you definitely didn’t realize you’d been talking out-loud. You closed your eyes, not wanting to turn around just yet. Deep down, you knew he’d find you. You’d just hoped it wouldn’t have been this soon.

“Was there anywhere in particular you were planning on going?” the king continued once he realized you weren’t going dignify your muttering with an answer.

“No,” you sighed, “just somewhere that wasn’t with you.”

“Unfortunately for you, the whole point of this thing is for us to be seen together,” he pointed out, “and before someone kicks you out of the palace for not knowing who you are, I would recommend that more people see us together.”

You turned, “stellar plan, king of Asgard. Did you come up with that all on your own?”

He raised a brow.

He stood a few paces in front of you, dressed in a dark tunic, looking fresh as a daisy with his damp hair neatly slicked back. His expression flirted the line between bored and curious as if there was nothing in the world that could faze someone like him — other than maybe his sister trying to steal the throne from him, and even then, he’d been so flippant about it, you didn’t doubt for a second he was used to getting his way all the time. A coward and a spoiled brat. You were going to have to find the Hand before this sham of a coronation, because you weren’t sure how convincing you’d manage to be.

“I did think of it all by myself,” he said, “but it would have been more if effective if it had occurred to you first.”

You crossed your arms, “maybe I wanted to get kicked out.”

“Then why didn’t you leave last night?” he asked, the beginnings of an infuriating smirk tugging at his lips.

“I wanted to sleep in a comfy bed,” you retorted, but even to your ears, you knew it was weak.

You both knew that you had no reason to leave.

Seeming satisfied that he’d won, he said, “you must be hungry.”

You didn’t know why your first instinct was to refuse him, but you knew it was a stupid reaction. Just because you didn’t want anything to do with him didn’t mean that you were going to let yourself starve. Letting him feed you wasn’t letting him win — your pride wasn’t going to get in the way of basic necessities. Your stomach answer before you could anyways.

He nodded at the sound, “there’s a quiet terrace in the city that serves delicious breakfast if you’d like to eat there.”

“In view of a whole bunch of people?” you mocked.

“Very few, actually, and all regular citizens. I didn’t think you’d enjoy being the centre of attention on your first day here, but if you’re up and looking for trouble, we can always go down to the dinning hall and eat with the soldiers,” he replied with a wicked grin.

“That’s fine,” you grumbled. It wasn’t that you didn’t think you could handle the attention. You just didn’t think it was worth the effort.

“Really?” he half turned as he was ready to head there right away, “it’s no trouble.”

You snorted and pushed past him. Then you quickly realized that you had no idea where in the seven hells you were going. Gritting your teeth, you turned around and to find a fully-fledged arrogant smirk on his lips. You tried not to let your anger get the best of you and motioned for him to lead the way even though it killed you to do it. He pursed his lips as if he was trying not to laugh. You forced a long inhale through your nose, ignoring the itchy feeling at the base of your spine.

“We’ll need to get you more clothes,” he said, glancing at your makeshift outfit as he strolled down the hallway, “it wasn’t today’s plan, but seeing as we’ll be near there, we can stop after breakfast.”

You ignored his pointed tone and took note of the way you were going, doing your best to orient yourself in the maze of hallways that all looked the same. The route you were taking didn’t seem the most direct, but did seem more deserted than some of the others you’d walked down. You tried to convince yourself that he wasn’t doing it to confuse you but it was hard to when he’d just finished saying how we should be seen together.

“Am I going to be able to do anything on my own?” you demanded, suddenly realizing that you were going somewhere with him after breakfast.

He stopped and listened, turning in the opposite direction of where you’d been heading as if he was avoiding something. Yet, his voice was casual when he said, “most of the time.”

You were only partly relieved. You were still going to have to go through a slew of theatrics to get the Hand. You were still going to have to pretend to be in love with him. You were still going to have to be queen…You didn’t know why the thoughts were running through your head now even though you’d agreed to them last night. This was real. This was happening. You were going to have to behave like a queen. You were going to have to behave like a woman in lov—

“I think we should set ground rules,” you blurted.

He raised a brow.

“Limits,” you supplied, “you know, boundaries. Respect. Or is that not a thing here?”

“Why don’t we wait until we’re out of the palace to discuss these matters.”

It was phrased as a question, but there was a warning in his voice. You nodded, realizing he had a point. There might not have been anyone around at the moment, but you weren’t going to get caught because of something this stupid. The surprise on his face when you didn’t say anything made you want to call him a whole slew of names. You were smart enough to figure things out and knew how to hold your tongue when you had to — even if you hadn’t done a very good job of it so far around him.

He led you through gates you hadn’t noticed on your break in, heading out the back of the palace. You tried to decipher what part of the city you were walking into, but it was nothing like the port market. Actually, it looked like you’d just stepped into a completely different realm.

The palace was set at the top of a massive valley, with a maze of streets and colourful building sprawling down the jungled mountain sides to a wide river at its base.  The streets were made of pale yellow cobblestone that practically growled in the early morning sun, the narrow streets winding dangerously down the hill.

Beautiful, lush vines with orange flowers lined the tops of buildings, their fragrance mingling with the smell of morning dew, and their rooftops made of some kind of metal that reflected the sun and made it look as if the old gods had lit them on fire. The houses and shops were dyed bright purples, yellows, and turquoise and the air crackled with magic, hope and possibilities.

Despite the hour, a number of people were milling about, already up and ready for their day. Most of the citizens were Fey, but there were Dwarves, Elves, a few demons and you were sure, the longer you walked through the streets, that you’d see people from all 9 realms. Most of the nodded their ‘hello’s when they saw him and continued on their way with a bright smile. No one seemed surprised to see the king strolling through their streets. If the streets in Niflheim ever looked like this, it could only have been during a time when Odin wasn’t king. You inhale the warm weather and the peaceful energy of these people, trying not to be angry at them for a decision their king made hundreds of yers ago.

“This is Natalos,” he explained, taking you down a smaller alley, “it’s Asgard’s capitol city and it can only be accessed through the palace. There are a few other cities on the island, but mainly, everyone lives here. The city is naturally protected by the valley walls and the river. Those of us of at the palace guard the only other way in.”

You tried to ignore your surprise. Just because these people had built their city in a way that put their king on the front lines didn’t excuse them for cowering in the first place. In an attempt to conceal your emotions, you asked a different question.

“What was the market I walked into?”

He smirked, “a market. The vendors here trade with outsiders whenever they need supplies but they can do so in a space that keeps their homes and their families far away from possible threats.”

You clenched your jaw, trying and failing to keep your face impassive. He knew there were threats. He’d made all of you outsiders and left you to those threats. You wanted to shake him. You wanted to ask what in the seven hells he’d been thinking during the war, but the peaceful city around you was your answer. Their home was intact and they had the ability to keep it that way with magic — magic far beyond your comprehension. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat and you couldn’t take a deep breath to save your life. You were so far out of your league without your abilities. You’d gotten used to only relying on your human senses, but you couldn’t even trust those here. You tried to tell yourself that this was no different than being in Odin’s palace, but for some reason, it wasn’t working. You could feel yourself panicking and you didn’t know how to stop it.

“For someone who broke into a palace guarded by magic and then preceded to point a dagger at me, you seem awfully worried about a simple breakfast,” he commented, stopping in front of a tiny door.

You didn’t bother with an answer and focused on your breathing, especially that the same dagger he was talking about was tucked into your boot. That particular thought eased your pounding heart. He shrugged and lead the way, bending over in half to fit through the door. There were a few tables in the dimly lit restaurant, all of which were already filled with people and steaming plates of food. A young dwarf who didn’t look past the age of thirty approached with a warm smile for the king. Her long black hair was tied back in a series of intricate braids and she had an apron pulled over her simple shirt and pants.

“You’re here earlier than expected, King Laufeyson,” she said by way of greeting, her voice surprisingly deep, even for a dwarf.

He took her hand gently in his, “my apologies. Something unexpected happened this morning. I hope we haven’t caused you any inconveniences.”

He didn’t look at you, but it wasn’t hard to guess that you were the something that had happened this morning. At least now I had something of a name for him.

“Always so polite our king,” she looked you up and down with a pleased little grin on her face, “come. I’ve prepared the terrace as you asked.”

You followed her out the back door and your breath caught in your throat. You had spent so long living in Flaik that you had almost forgotten what lush jungles were like, their massive trees acting like tent filtering the light through leaves like liquid gold. Everything was such a deep green, with only a few flowers in bloom this time of year. The sight almost brought tears to your eyes. You had been so sure you would never see anything that resembled home ever again and you took in a deep breath as if you could hold a piece of your surroundings inside of you. It wasn’t quite like home, but it was close.

You opened your eyes, not realizing that you’d closed them. He was staring at you, his hands on the back of his chair, his head cocked to the side. You glared at him and sat down. He rolled his eyes and took a seat in front of you.

“I’ll be back with water,” the dwarf said, glancing between the two of you with that same knowing smirk on her face.

“Thank you, Volula,” he murmured, leaning back in his chair as if it was a sofa.

Laufeyson didn’t say anything, staring at you. He was all cheekbones and sharp edges and looked far too pretty for his own good. His eyes, almost glowing green against the jungle, gave away nothing more than faint amusement. You would have said he was bored if you hadn’t been able to feel the energy in the air, drawn tight as if he was a wolf stalking its prey.

“Your population is very diverse,” you said when you couldn’t take the silence any longer.

He shrugged as if the war hadn’t made all the realms wary of one another, and opened his menu,“it just happened that way.”

Your fingers tightened around the fork you had unwittingly started playing with. You forced yourself to let it go gently and place your hands on your lap where he couldn’t see them.

“What about the population where you’re from? he asked, keeping his eyes on the menu.

“We’re not going there,” you warned.

“So I’m not going to know anything about you? Seems like a great plan,” he said, folding his menu shut, “but, as long as it convinces the council, it’s fine with me.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

You held his gaze, daring him to tell you that this wasn’t going to work unless you told him every single detail about your life, but he didn’t push like you thought he would, eventually raising a brow as if it was your turn to say something. It only made you trust him less. Who let a complete stranger — a thief at that — become queen of their realm without knowing a single thing about them? There had to be hundreds of other women who would gladly do it. It didn’t make sense and you hated that you had no idea what he was planning.

Volula came back, a bright smile on her face, “have we decided yet?”

Laufeyson tilted his head, looking to you as if you’d been the one she was talking to. You hadn’t even looked at the menu, but you weren’t about to ask him for advice.

“I’ll take your most popular breakfast,” you answered with a polite smile.

She nodded and turned to the king, “the usual?”

He smiled, “that would be wonderful. Thank you.”

She let you know that she would be back soon with the food and busied off to one of the other tables on the terrace. You searched for the anxiety that was always palpable whenever Odin was around civilians, but there was nothing like that here. Everyone had seen the king walk in, but no one had paid him much attention other than the pleasant smiles as we had walked by. Even the other customers eating on the terrace as well were either focused on their food or their conversations.

“Why are we doing any of this?” you asked, “it’s clear these people are fine with you being their king.”

“Old laws. The council have always had the power to decide who's king. Apparently they know better than their people,” he said.

You couldn’t help but be surprised that he’d show his feelings about his court so obviously, “you might want to keep the disdain out of your voice the next time you see them. They are in charge of your regency.”

“I’ll do my best,” he learned further back in his chair, “especially that the next time I do will be with you.”

You groaned, “tell me that won’t be any time soon.”

“Tonight. Drinks and appetizers before dinner,” he huffed a little laugh, “don’t look too enthusiastic.”

“Because drinks with a bunch of stuffy old men sounds fun,” you retorted.

He tipped forward, letting his chair fall back onto all four legs again, “how do you know they’re old men?”

You sighed, Odin’s council coming to mind, “aren’t they always?”

He chuckled, though you had the impression there was nothing he found funny about the whole situation, “seems they are.”

Volula came back with your food before you could ask him more about the council. She set a steaming bowl of grey mush that had a strangely greenish hue to it in front of Laufeyson and plate filled with scrambled eggs, fruit —- some of which you’d never seen before — a small bread roll and a little bowl filled with a dark purple liquid you couldn’t identify.

“It’s for the bread,” she said with a wink, “enjoy the meal.”

Tentatively, you ripped a small piece off the loaf and dipped it into the liquid. You looked up at Lauefeyson and he nodded encouragingly. You eyed him warily and he rolled his eyes again, digging into his mush. When you finally gained the courage to pop it into your mouth. It was tangy but sweet, an eruption of flavours you couldn’t name, and paired with the airy texture of the bread, it was amazing. It was so good, you dipped your eggs into the sauce just to see what it would be like. You weren’t disappointed. Laufeyson had his head dipped down, eyes focused on his breakfast, but you could see a faint smile on his lips. You wanted to tell him off, but really he hadn’t done anything. And anyways, you were starving.

“You wanted to talk ground rules?” he asked after another few bites.

You nodded and swallowed your bite, “I’m not doing any of this without a few precautions.”

He scraped the last of his putrid look slop from the bowl, “what did you have in mind?”

You hadn’t forgotten his little show last night, and although there wasn’t even the faintest echo of pain, you weren’t interested in going through anything like that ever again.

“You don’t use magic on me,” you warned, “ever.”

He held your gaze, body relaxed when he said, “I wasn’t planning on it.”

If he was lying, his assurance and ease made him damed convincing . Still, it didn’t mean you believed him. You knew he wouldn’t tell you the truth if he was lying so there was no point in dwelling on his answer.

“And no physical affect unless it’s absolutely necessary,” you added, staring him down, “and if possible, I want a heads up before it happens.”

“Romanic,” he chuckled, leaning back into his chair again.

You crossed your arms, “it’s part of my terms.”

“It’s fine,” he said with a little wave of his hand, “anything else?”

“Not for now. But just to be clear, all I have to do is convince them we’re in love, right?” you asked, still trying to wrap your head around the situation. You’d never been in love and you’d never seen the appeal of it, but if you had ever imagined what it would look like, faking it to some foreign king with Nat’s life on the line wasn’t exactly it.

He readjusted the spoon in his bowl, changing it from the right side to the left, “right.”

You shook your head. He was so casual about everything and all you could do was ask as many questions as you could think of to try and kill the sneaking suspicion that this half-baked plan was doomed to fail, “and all this is because your sister wanted the throne.”

“Yes.”

“Who’s the rightful heir?” You pushed on, searching his face for more information than his one-worded answers gave you.

His face remained impassive but he took a second to long to answer, “technically she is, but the position fell to me years ago.”

You weren’t going to ask what he meant by years, not wanting to know whether or not he’d been king during the war. If you were going to pretend to love him, you didn’t need another reason to hate him.

“Why not leave it to her if it’s her birthright?”

“Why not keep it?” he countered, tucking his hands into his pockets, “you said it yourself. Everyone’s fine with me being king.”

“That’s not an answer,” you pointed out, observing him closely.

He shrugged and changed the subject, “if you’re done, we’ll head to the seamstress.”

“Great,” you muttered, thought it didn’t escape your notice that his sister was definitely a touchy subject.

He smirked, “again, your enthusiasm is contagious.”

“Excuse me for not being excited about a deal I was blackmailed into by a man who’s name I don’t even know,” you whisper yelled, leaning forward across the table, barely able to control yourself, “right after going through a set of rules to impress a set of snobby old men because of your conniving sister.”

He looked like he was going to say something then stopped and looked out into the jungle. He nodded slowly, took in a long, deep breath and turned back to face you.

“Loki. Lauefeyson,” he extended his hand — a human gesture, “it’s nice to meet you.”

You nodded and stared at his hand. When the silence droned on, he leaned in closer so that we were both hovering above the table, “I will need to know your name, sweetheart.”

“When you do, you’d better use it because you ‘sweetheart’ isn’t convincing anyone,” you grit out.

His lips pulled into a wicked grin, “I think it is, sweetheart.”

“YN,” you snapped, backing off, “YLN.”

He stood from the table, leaning casually on the back of the chair, “are you ready to go, YLN.”

You sighed, “if I have to.”

[takohebi]

Freefall

Ship: Jamil/Yuu, female MC

Words: 1,502

Fic under the cut

“Hmm? You wanna try riding a broomstick?” Kalim asked light-heartedly. “Jamil’s one of the best in class, maybe you should ask him instead! Hey Jamil!”

Well, all it took was one off-hand remark about wishing to be able to fly like the others on a broomstick and Kalim was already off, dragging a confused Jamil to where Yuu stood in her gym “uniform”- a simple sweatshirt and sweatpants combo. Yuu’s gym sessions consisted of running laps around the grounds and wistfully looking at the students flying. And teasing the Octatrio. 

Now Jamil’s in front of her, eyes carefully assessing...what? He is looking at her but she can’t tell what he’s thinking. With a sigh that hopefully wasn’t out of exasperation, Jamil got his broomstick floating and hopped on, sitting more towards the tail-end of it. He looked enquiringly at Yuu- 

“Aren’t you getting on?” he asked simply, pointing down in front of him.

Oh. Oh. Yuu’ll be sitting in front of Jamil. The thought made her heart skip a beat. Not wanting to keep him waiting, she shoved aside any budding ideas and tentatively sat in the indicated space, gripping the broom tightly. 

Immediately Jamil scooted forward, his chest enveloping Yuu’s smaller back and placed his hands right over hers. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle” he whispered into her ear. 

Yuu felt like this was some kind of cruel dream. There’s no way he chose those words to speak, right? This must be some kind of fantasy her mind conjured up in a last-ditch effort to stay awake in Trein’s class. Thinking about Jamil does make her stay VERY awake.  

However the moment the broom started to fly, Yuu felt her stomach drop at the sudden increase in altitude, jolting her back to the present. “Sorry, was that too fast? Let me know if I should take it slow.” Jamil’s silky voice once again serenaded her ear. “A-a little slower please? I am not used to this.” Jamil chuckled as a response. At this point Yuu was hyper-aware of the proximity of his face to hers, his chest to her back and his arms enclosing hers and his legs- oh- his legs were flush against hers, his sneakered feet tucked under hers and holding them up. Feeling the shared heat of their intertwined legs almost made Yuu gasp out loud. Forcing her eyes shut, she tried to rewire her thoughts to their alchemy homework and just focus on the sensation of the wind whipping through her hair instead of-

“Hey are you alright? Should I stop? Do you wanna get down?” Jamil’s hushed voice sounded genuinely concerned. 

“Sorry! Sorry, I just got a little overwhelmed.”

“Does this make you feel better?” Yuu felt Jamil’s arm snake around her waist, holding her even closer to his body. 

“Yes. Much better” she managed to squeak out, as her face and body seemed to be aflame. 

The rest of the flight was fairly uneventful. Yuu felt comfortable with the gentle pressure of Jamil’s body and turned her head a little to catch a glimpse of his face. He had his usual stoic face on but Yuu thought she might have caught a bit of red there. Soon, Jamil made quips about each student they passed over causing Yuu to giggle over his deadpan delivery of said jabs. They flew at a leisurely pace, mostly quiet save for a few Oohs from Yuu’s side when she had a new view of something she saw everyday. 

Little did she know, every word and sound she let out made the boy behind her blush and feel incredibly proud to be the only one to witness it and (indirectly) be the reason for her reactions. 

***

Jamil did not know why and how he was suddenly seated behind Yuu, if you gave someone a lift on the broomstick, they were the one who sat behind. But here he is, body lined up closely against her. As if his body moved on instinct without his brain directing it and only now waking up to the fact that they were in extremely close physical contact. Jamil wondered if he was being inappropriate for a moment before he felt Yuu sigh and lean into him more and glance back at him, with a shy smile. Jamil felt like his heart would burst out of his chest any moment. Looking for a way to calm his mind, he spotted Azul down below and immediately came up with a snarky comment. That made her laugh and Jamil’s heart soared once more. They fell into a comfortable banter, Jamil hanging on to every word she said. 

He found it easy to talk to her, especially after the whole Overblot debacle. And he caught himself wishing to talk more and more to her and make her smile, laugh, just react to his words in general (positively of course). He staunchly refused to ponder over his desire for her attention and simply dismissed his tumultuous feelings and convinced himself he cared for her as a friend and all his feelings were platonic. Nevermind the fact that he has NEVER taken anyone for a ride on his broomstick, not even Kalim. And yet…

Kalim MUST have known this would happen. No wonder he asked him to help Yuu despite being a competent flier himself. Jamil felt a twinge of annoyance. But it was quickly quelled as he heard Yuu say his name. Deciding to deal with these troublesome thoughts later, Jamil fell back into conversation, keeping his voice neutral with practiced ease even if his heart was thumping frantically in excitement.

The day was sunny and breezy and they were flying for well over 20 minutes. They had already crossed the grounds a few times. Jamil sighed. They should probably land. His body was getting a little stiff from not moving much from this position. And it was Yuu’s first time flying. 

“I think we should descend soon…” he said, reluctantly.

“Oh. Hmm..” Yuu said. “A little more? Please?” To emphasize her point, she leaned back into Jamil and looked at him again. ‘Unfair!’ Jamil thought. ‘There’s no way I’d say no now.’ he sighed, but smiled at her. 

***

“Hey Jamil, why don’t we go a bit faster? Can you do a roll? Wait, is it possible to do it with 2 people?” 

The prospect of their ride coming to an end made Yuu curious about all the things she wanted to try.

“It could be done…”

“PLEASE CAN WE DO IT THEN?”

“...

Alright, please hold on tight. Do let me know if I should stop.”

Saying so, Jamil tightened his grip on Yuu and leaned further in, almost pinning her to the broom. With his other hand, he gently tugged hers and repositioned them closer to their bodies and once again placed his over hers, his thumb idly stroking her skin. The gesture was barely noticed by Yuu because immediately then Jamil maneuvered the broom to tilt sharply sideways and quickly roll once, twice and then after a moment’s pause, speed up. With a tug of his hand the broom flew upwards, performing a loop and then slowly decelerated before hovering to a stop. 

Yuu felt the rush of adrenaline coursing through her, her hair was all over the place but she could only breathlessly laugh as Jamil hummed casually against her. 

“That was so fucking amazing!! Ahh thank you Jamil for obliging me.” 

Below them, Kalim whooped while Jack asked (yelled) if Yuu’s okay. Yuu yelled back she is, causing Jamil to pull his face back a little involuntarily as her voice was too loud. 

“Ahh sorry sorry. I am done yelling, you can come back now.” Yuu said lightly before realizing what she meant. She felt herself blush and thankfully Jamil didn’t comment, quietly leaning back in, his lips close to her ear once again. She could hear his steady breathing if she concentrated (not like she was actively trying to!!). 

“Yuu…” he spoke, his words barely a whisper. Yuu could have sworn his lips made contact with her skin. He seemed to drawl out her name and it gave her butterflies.

“J-Jamil?” she asked back, her spirits dampened slightly, knowing full well what he wanted to say. 

He sighed, the action causing all sorts of feelings to bloom inside Yuu. 

“We should get off. I am sorry, it’s getting a little late. BUT- we can maybe do this again later-” 

“Definitely!!!” 

Jamil smiled. Yuu felt like her heart would burst out of happiness. 

As they got off, Yuu immediately felt her back go cold, missing Jamil’s warmth. As their friends jogged towards them, Jamil ducked close and said in a low voice- “Went a little hard at the end because you asked for it. I hope you can walk straight until our next ride.” then proceeded to saunter off towards Kalim, broom in hand. 

Yuu felt her knees grow weak and it was hard to answer if it was because of the flying or Jamil. 

[deiliamedlini]

ALTA Oneshot- Strength From Within

When your niece watches ALTA and Korra for the first time and she’s OBSESSED with bloodbending and you get inspired by her many comments. So behold, Katara bloodbends.

Mild Zutara, retelling of the final Agni Kai

“Can you feel the power the full moon brings? For generations it has blessed waterbenders with its glow, allowing us to do incredible things!”

Katara can hear Hama’s words racing through her mind, playing again and again on repeat. It’s incessant; a sound that never stops, never leaves. That woman’s voice is a nightmare that she’s reminded of day and night.

Katara can only bloodbend during the full moon. She knows this. She’s done this.

“Once you perfect this technique, you can control anything, or... anyone.”

Turning in her sleep, Katara can feel where Aang is, just feet away. She can sense the way his blood moves throughout his body. The pulsing of his heart is steady, but no less loud than everything else.

Katara hates nights like this.

No matter how hard she tries, she can’t push it away. She can’t stop feeling her brother’s pulse, or Toph’s, or even Zuko’s.

“My work is done. Congratulations, Katara. You're a Bloodbender.”

Soon, Katara is up, moving as far away from the group as she can, letting her head rest on her arms, trying to listen to the sound of the night birds and the sway of the trees. They are too far from the water for that to comfort her, so she makes do with the pieces of nature she can cling to.

But she can feel someone approach from behind. She can feel them.

She wonders if this is how Toph sees, though she still can’t tell who is who just from the rush of their blood. With time, she thinks she might be able to.

While she can’t tell their blood apart, there’s no mistaking the raspy voice that sounds from beside her, still tired, still hesitant.  

“You okay?”

“I’m fine!” she snaps. But immediately, she sighs, regretting it. “I’m fine,” she says again, much calmer this time.

Zuko takes the space beside her. Zuko, she realizes, has a soothing presence, despite his normally chaotic energy. She doesn’t feel obligated to talk to him just because he’s there. And she loves Aang as much as she loves Sokka, she does, but he needs her to confide everything to him so he can tell her how to let it go. Sometimes, that’s not what she wants. That’s not what she needs. There are some things that she can’t let go of. Some things that have just become her.Zuko understands this. Aang, Sokka, and Toph don’t.

“You’re stronger than Hama,” Aang had said to her one night when she’d confessed her fears. But that is what Katara is afraid of.

Katara turns to Zuko with a shaky breath, tears spilling from her eyes as she realizes she can feel his calm heartbeat, his blood leisurely doing its job. The red water in his veins isn’t straining to work, it’s just there. And it’s that calm that calls to Katara.

She takes her head in her hands, her fingers tight in her hair by her ears, as if she can stop hearing it; as if she can stop feeling it. Her tears come harder, and she can feel those. Every part of her is screaming, demanding she bend it all.

Zuko can see her white knuckled grip, and he gently touches her hand. When she doesn’t pull away, he helps her uncurl her fingers and instead laces his own through hers.

It’s good: his warm hand in hers. She wants this, but she can feel too much. He’s too close now. She feels it all.

Standing, she pulls away, finally giving in and bending her tears away from her eyes so she looks almost like she wasn’t crying, save for her puffy, red eyes. “I’m sorry,” she mutters.

Zuko watches her leave. He knows why. He’s seen her bloodbend and he knows that she’s still struggling with her powers. Unlike the others, he understands what it’s like to hate a something inside yourself so deeply that it threatens to break you. He knows this because it’s been his most defining feeling since the day of his banishment. And every day, he has had to push past it to see the greater picture, one that Uncle Iroh has been painting long before Zuko could see the brush strokes.

When Katara returns from her walk, she sees a rolled-up scroll on her bedroll and moves closer to the embers of the dying fire to read it. It’s undeniably Zuko’s script, but it’s not his words. They’re words from an old legend, from a story that’s been told in tales and plays for years. One that Iroh had told him time and time again. One that Katara had seen performed during a festival.

“The true mind can weather all lies and illusions without being lost. The true heart can touch the poison of hatred without being harmed. From beginningless time, darkness thrives in the void, but always yields to purifying light.” – Lion Turtle

With a soft laugh to herself, Katara turns to Zuko. His eyes are closed, but she’s almost certain they’re cracked open just enough to see her. She smiles at him and tucks the words into her hand to read again.

And once she reads them three more times, the call of bloodbending feels less and less like a threat and more like a promise that she can overcome.

_____________________________

Katara watches as Zuko and Azula circle each other. Azula is a ball of uncontrolled energy and rage. Blue sparks of lightening and embers of flame encircle her, fanning out and wild. It’s like a fresh log had been placed over a campfire, and the flames were discovering a whole new world of opportunities and places to go.

Zuko’s flames, red like his scar, were precise and controlled, everything Azula’s weren’t. His strikes weren’t wild. Where he aimed, they went.

Katara remembered when she’d seen Zuko for the first time, when he was unbalanced, and his flames were as uncontrollable as Azula’s. Now, she can see something of his uncle’s style, something so tamed and yet so dangerous in each move he makes. His firebending, while not hot and bright, is just as dangerous as Azula’s, and far more of a threat than she’d ever seen.

Zuko fights with passion, and Azula fights with rage. Two emotions that come from the same place but are redirected in entirely different ways.

Katara can feel the call of water beneath the grates. She wanted to help, but she knew Zuko needed to do this on his own. She even knows he can win, but in the event that Azula pulls something, in the event Zuko falls, Katara isn’t going to just watch because the honor of the Crown Prince is at stake. She values his life too much now. And she thinks he knows that.

It’s difficult for Katara to see. The courtyard is a mix of reds and oranges, blues and whites. She almost calls up the water to shield her from a wide attack of Azula’s, one that dies before Katara has the need.

She walks the perimeter behind Zuko, always making sure that there is an angle from which she can see.

Zuko says something to Azula, and she spits fiery words back at him. She sees Zuko center himself, move into a space inside where he is at peace. Lightening, she thinks immediately, though it’s Azula who bends it. She’s wild, and the lightening appears all around her rather than directed through her movements. Her form is off. Even without being a firebender, Katara can see that.

Azula throws her head back with a laugh and moves her hands. Suddenly, the lightening is coming towards her, and not Zuko.

She hears him cry out, she sees him move. And then she sees his body engulfed by lightening.

His hand manages to redirect the lightening, but he doesn’t make it in time to move it out harmlessly into the sky. Instead, he’s redirecting it into himself, away from Katara.

He falls to the ground, twitching. She’s not sure if he’s in pain, or if it’s his body’s nerves acting on their own accord.

For a second, Azula is surprised. Her eyes are wide. She’s not upset, just surprised. She had wanted to rattle her brother with the death of the waterbender. She’d wanted to make her victory sweet by breaking Zuzu. She didn’t want to just beat him, she wanted to defeat him.

But Azula smiles. This turn of events is okay. Zuko’s death was inevitable, and Azula had always been flexible with plans.

Katara is stopped from rushing to Zuko by a blast of blue flame. A sickening laugh is loud over the explosion a collision makes. Katara just manages to get out of the way of another blast, rolling to her feet as debris pelts her face.

Azula bends lightening again, taunting Katara as she does. But Katara bends a wall of water as her shield.

It’s not enough against the lightening. Katara still feels painful ripples of shockwaves course through her, as if she’s been hit by a weak blast. It hurts, and it stings, and her arms are red already. Water conducts electricity, but water is all Katara has at her disposal.

There’s a pillar that Katara makes it to, just in time to feel the heat of blue flames on the other side.

“Zuzu, you don’t look so good!” Azula mocks from atop a roof.

Katara peeks her head out just in time to see Azula bend lightening once again. She looks at Katara and smiles, full toothed, hair wild. Unhinged.

And aims the lightening at Zuko instead of her.

This time, it’s Katara who screams. She’s too far from Zuko to take the hit, or even to lessen it with her water in the way. There’s no time to do anything.

Anything but react.

“What?” Azula screeches as her hand jerks to the side. The bolt of lightening misses Zuko by mere inches, but Azula’s aim has always been true.

She looks at the waterbender and notices that she’s in an unfamiliar stance. Her eyes are determined as she takes a breath and focuses on Azula.

Azula knows she’s faster. She bends the lightening again and aims it at both Katara and Zuko.

But suddenly, mirroring the waterbender, Azula’s hands move up to the sky, and the lightening misses again.

Katara can hear Hama’s voice again. “The choice is not yours. The power exists. And it's your duty to use the gifts you've been given to win this war.”

Then, she hears Aang’s from the first day they met. “If you want to be a bender, you have to let go of fear.”

She’s no longer afraid of Azula. She’s no longer afraid for Zuko. And she’s no longer afraid for herself.

Surprised, almost, by her actions and resolve, she glances at the sky. It’s not a full moon. It’s not possible.

“You’re stronger than Hama,” Aang had said to comfort her. He’d meant it that Katara didn’t need to worry, that mentally, she was stronger than Hama. But the words ring true for a different reason. Katara is a waterbending master. She’s stronger than Hama. Hama needed the moon to bloodbend.

Katara doesn’t.

“What are you doing to me, you filthy peasant?” Azula screeches, jumping off the roof when Katara lets go.

Katara has never done this without the full moon, so all she can manage is the twitch of an arm, not the full control of every action as she’d done in the past. It’s enough to surprise Azula though, and Katara feels a brief twinge of disgust before looking at Zuko once again.

He’s lying there, the front of his shirt burned off from the heat of the lightening. There’s a hole in his skin that reminds her of Aang’s wound that nearly cost him his life. She wonders if Zuko is close to death, if she can still get to him in time to save him. If the only chance of that is bloodbending.

Azula looks like she’s given up on lightening for the moment, but she charges at Katara with all four of her limbs lit up like the flames that propel the airships.

Katara runs, bending the water into a wave and then freezing it before skidding her feet along it to escape Azula. The heat from her flames melts the ice behind Katara, and she uses that to her advantage, bending the melted water into a whip that strikes Azula and knocks her back.

The move gives Katara enough time to get in front of Zuko, to protect him from anything that Azula can throw their way.

But Azula isn’t in front of them anymore.

She’s behind them.

Katara only knows this because the firebender cannot stop laughing whenever she feels giddy or that she’s done something right. It gives Katara the time she needs to turn around and see the flames coming at them, and she bends a wall of water to stop it.

Azula is relentless to the point that Katara can no longer remain on the defensive. She shoots ice picks at her, and uses the octopus form just to try to knock her off balance.

Zuko knew he’d need Katara’s help to beat Azula, and now, Katara realizes that she too needs Zuko’s help.  But he’s barely breathing behind her, shallow breaths that are getting fewer and farther between. And Azula has broken through every defense, leaving Katara with no time to heal Zuko.

She hears a particularly strained breath from Zuko and realizes that there’s little other choice. She reaches out and feels Azula’s blood, really feels it.

The first time, she’d been acting on instinct, stopping Azula from killing Zuko. This time, her motive is the same, but it is no knee-jerk reaction. Fully understanding the repercussions, fully aware of what her body was about to do, Katara widens her stance and bends the water near her, drawing strength from its constant flow. It is as soothing as it is strong, and that’s the same energy she channels into her bending as she reaches for Azula.

It’s easy now. She’d been sensing her friends’ blood all the time. It called out to her in a way that was entirely foreign, yet altogether too familiar. So here, she can find it easily. The water is distinct, and she starts in the easiest place to reach: Azula’s fingertips. Following the line, she is at her wrist, and Katara stops there, contorting Azula’s wrist away so that she can’t properly bend. But that enrages Azula, and fire is shooting out of her feet as she kicks.

Katara moves further down, one hand of hers focusing on holding Azula’s wrist while the other searches for her leg.

She’s sweating with the effort, disgusted by every action she takes and every second she’s holding another down with waterbending. But how is this any different from when she’d frozen Jet against that tree? How is it any different from restraining anyone? It’s the same, she tells herself so she can get through this.

Azula is screeching as she slowly starts to lose control of muscles.

Katara struggles to breathe, feeling like how Zuko must, as she maintains her form. Her hands and feet are precise as she lowers Azula to her knees and holds her there.

It’s hard enough to maintain the control without the fill moon, but she takes strength from inside herself instead, her unbendable resolve. Katara lets the water on the ground flow slowly from her to Azula, wrapping around her legs and turning to ice, slithering up to hold her wrists in the same place. Katara sees chains, and hastily rushes to replace the ice that Azula can melt with the unbreakable metal that only Toph could have torn through.

Azula is wild as she tries to break free, finally resuming control of herself as Katara lets go.

She’s dizzy, but she stumbles to Zuko and bends water around her palms before placing them on his chest, closing her eyes, and calling strength from the exact same place she’d just been to bloodbend. It’s jarring, how two contrasting actions—controlling someone’s will and healing their wounds—can be summoned from the same strength. Her desire to save Zuko is above all thoughts of herself or her morals.

She can feel heat on her back, but when she checks, she just sees Azula breathing fire as she sobs and writhes on the ground. It doesn’t distract Katara for long, and she returns her attention to Zuko.

His wounds close beneath her hands. It’s something she never got to do for Aang, but she’s glad she can do it for Zuko. His body stops shaking, and for a moment, Katara thinks she’s killed him with her tainted hands, that this was her punishment for using bloodbending. But there is no such punishment. Zuko tentatively opens his eyes and smiles.

“Thank you, Katara,” he manages. And she knows that there is more to this thank you than the healing. He’s thanking her for so much more.

“I think I’m the one who should be thanking you,” she says tearfully. And he smiles, because like her, he knows that this is more than a shallow thank you for their actions that day.

Katara helps him sit up and lets Zuko rest his head on her shoulder while he gathers his strength. She wouldn’t have minded if he stayed that way. She is tired, and so is he. They could both use a rest.

But he pushes himself to his knees, and then to his feet, keeping a steady arm wrapped around his waist.

They both watch Azula as she no longer speaks in full sentences, only incoherent screams. Tears run down her face, and she is rolling on the floor. She’s not even trying to escape anymore, but the hysterics have taken hold, and it’s like she’s being bloodbent again: no longer in control of herself.

Zuko, as much as he wants Katara near him, moves away from her touch to kneel in front of his sister. She tries to breathe fire on him, but he waves it away as though it were nothing. “I feel sorry for you,” he says earnestly. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

Azula screams some more, but Zuko has said what he needs to. He returns to Katara’s arms, and leans against her while he cradles the painful reminder of his wound. Though Katara healed it, there is still some way to go.

“We should try to find Aang,” Katara breathes, looking up at the red sky.

“No, he has to face my father alone. We should try to stop the fighting down here.” He turns to those observers, the ones who were ready to crown Azula Firelord.

“They’ll listen to you, Firelord Zuko,” Katara says with a smile. But it’s melancholy as the words register in her ears. Still, there’s nothing to do about it now. “They’re now your troops. You can stop this.”

Zuko nods, but before he can take a step, he grabs Katara’s hand. “I wouldn’t have been able to do this if it weren’t for you. I can’t thank you enough.”

Katara blushes, but she’s still reeling from everything. She knows her high from the win will crash soon, and she’ll remember the feeling of Azula’s blood in under her control for days. She knows it’ll give her nightmares, and make her feel powerful. She’ll remember how it came from the same source that her waterbending came from, and that will have her conflicted.

“Zuko,” she says, moving her hand up to his arm. “Please, don’t tell anyone what I did. Don’t tell them I was bloodbending. They wouldn’t understand.”

Zuko’s eyes search hers for a moment before he nods. “I won’t tell, Katara. But you shouldn’t be ashamed of it. You just saved the fire nation and the entire world. I know it’ll feel like you paid a heavy price, but you just saved everyone. We can end this now that Azula isn’t the Firelord.”

“What about your father?”

“Aang will take care of him. The Avatar isn’t the only one who can save the world, Katara. You did, too.” He doesn’t say anymore as he hurries over to the fire priests. They both know that the time for talking is later.

For now, Katara gives herself five seconds.

One, she takes to mourn Azula. For everything she is, she’s still just a young girl who’s lust for power has corrupted her.

Two, she hopes that bloodbending doesn’t lead her down that same path; that she’ll be okay.

Three, she thinks of Aang fighting Ozai. She knows how scared he was, but he’s the Avatar. He was born for this. He’s ready.

Four, she thinks of Sokka, Toph, Suki, and her father. Mostly, she thinks of Sokka, and hopes that he’s staying safe, despite knowing him.

And five, she thinks of Zuko. That alone is enough to make her smile, but he’s here, and he’s alive, and he’s waving her over.

She knows now what she’d be willing to do for those she loved, and that alone was enough to displace any regret she had about bloodbending.

She’d do it again, if she had to.

For them. For him.

[kpop-zone]

My Favorite Person | Yves

Genre: fluff

Wordcount: 2,083

Request: can i request making out with yves or some fluff with her like gf yves?

“Why couldn’t they have just put me in a group of four?”

Sooyoung said to herself while letting her head hang in defeat.

The two of you rarely had been able to spend time together the past weeks, because of her busy schedule. But today the management had finally granted her a free day and she was able to see you. It was supposed to be a day filled with activities involving only the two of you to make up for the lost time. In this dorm, however, that seemed to be impossible.

Sooyoung had just left your side for a second to get some snacks in the kitchen when you were suddenly surrounded by Kahei, Yeojin, Haseul and Yerim. The maknae made the other members sit down next to you and was now excitedly telling you something while waving a skateboard in the air. So much for spending some alone time. Sooyoung sighed and grabbed the plates of food to bring them to the living room.

“Wow, Yeojin, that’s awesome!”

She heard you praising the youngest as she came closer, making her almost roll her eyes.

You were just too nice for your own good. Her members loved you because of that. Whenever you visited the dorm, they swarmed you and wanted to spend some time with you; time that was actually reserved for her. It wasn’t like she wanted her members to hate you, but maybe they should just like you a little less so that she could have you for herself when you visited the dorm. There was nothing wrong about a little small talk, but why did you have to play games with them, let yourself get entangled in an endless conversation about bread or agree to sit still for hours in order to get yourself drawn. Her members could surely do those things with someone else too. She, however, couldn’t find herself another Y/N. It was a dilemma. When she looked over at the couch, she felt her heart flutter because of how caring you were, but at the same time, she also felt jealous, because you weren’t giving her any attention at all.

Grumpily she ended up standing behind you when she reached the couch because the seats next to you were already occupied. You immediately turned your head when you felt her hand on your shoulder and flashed her a smile before giving Yeojin your attention again.

“Ok, look guys, look. I can totally do a kickflip.”

Yeojin exclaimed way too loud before putting the skateboard on the floor.

Carefully she positioned herself on it before making sure a last time that everyone was watching her. Then she bent her knees to push herself off the ground, apparently with the attention of making her skateboard follow her. Unfortunately though, it side-slipped instead, causing Yeojin to lose her balance and fall to the floor with a loud thud. For a moment, the whole room went quiet in shock before everyone rushed to Yeojin’s side while pitying her.

“Are you ok?”

“Oh my god, are you hurt?”

“Can you move?”

Sooyoung watched the scene from the back. For a second, she was worried as well but when Yeojin started babbling chipperly a second later, she shook her head in disbelief. It was just not possible to spend a calm afternoon in this dorm.

Haseul and you carried the maknae to the couch with no regards to her protests.

“Let me try again!”

Yeojin whined, but you held her down on the couch.

“Definitely not. You’ve hit your head really hard.”

Responsible as you were, your parent instincts kicked in and you ordered Yerim to get some ice for Yeojin’s head.

“We have to keep an eye on you now. Who knows, maybe you have a concussion or something.”

Sooyoung felt bad because of the jealousy that flared up inside of her because of your comment. Of course, you were right. Yeojin could be seriously hurt. But she also knew that it meant that you would stay in the living room with the others instead of spending some time with her. She should be glad that you had learned to love her members that much and were willing to take care of them. Right now, however, she just wanted you to take care of her.

Sooyoung knew though that she could forget about that for now, so she dragged her feet to her room with a slight pout on her face. Yeojin seemed to be well taken care of and she really wasn’t in the mood to spend the afternoon with all the others. Therefore, she let herself fall on her bed where she immediately hid underneath her blanket in search for comfort. Boredom, however, soon started to make her feel even more irritated, especially because she heard loud laughter from the living room.

“I’m glad you’re having fun.”

Sooyoung mumbled bitterly before grabbing her headphones from the nightstand to start watching some videos on her phone.

It helped her to block out the noisy surrounding, but to her dislike, she couldn’t block out the noise in her head. Her thoughts kept revolving around you, making her jealousy grow with every second that you spend with them instead of her. One video after the other flashed over the screen without Sooyoung paying any attention to them. She was caught in her own head where she rummaged through all her memories with you to find the last time, the two of you had spent some quality time together without interruptions. She had to dig deep and was only catapulted back into the present time when a movement to her feet made her jump in surprise. Slowly she took out her headphones but kept hiding underneath her blanket.

“Jagi?”

Your familiar voice sounded in the room and Sooyoung could hear a little insecurity in it, but still decided to stay quiet.

“Is everything ok?”

You added after a while, making her huff in frustration. How could you be so oblivious?

“Of course, I am. You can go back to the others.”

She responded annoyed, causing the room to turn silent for a while. You didn’t say anything, but Sooyoung knew that you hadn’t left the room yet. You were still sitting at the foot of her bed, probably confused as to why your girlfriend was behaving so weirdly. Eventually, you shifted a bit and Sooyoung thought that you would be returning to the living room, but instead you piped up again.

“Baby...”

Your voice was soft, but Sooyoung also imagined having heard a little amusement in it.

“Are you jealous?”

You suddenly asked, causing Sooyoung to gasp offended. How dare you? Theoretically you were right of course, but she surely wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of admitting her jealousy. Grumpily she pulled away the blanket from her face to glare at you.

“No.”

She responded firmly before sulkily turning her head to the side.

“Hm...”

You nodded understandingly, but in the corner of her eyes, Sooyoung could see that you were suppressing a smirk.

“Such a pity. I wanted to prove to you that there is no need to be and show you some things that I only do with you.”

Sooyoung’s heart skipped a beat because of your statement, causing her to whip her head around. You smiled sweetly, but your insinuation was unmistakable when she watched you crawling on top of her.

A blush creeped to her cheek. Nevertheless, she couldn’t stop an excited smile to play on her lips.

“And what would that be?”

She feigned innocence, causing you to chuckle.

“I’m not great at explaining, I think I’ll better show you.”

You grinned mischievously before starting to leave featherlight kisses on her neck all the way up to the corner of her mouth. Sooyoung’s eyes fluttered close as you managed to make her forget about everything that was surrounding her with every caress of your lips on her skin. Reflexively her arms looped around your neck as you leaned back to look deeply into her eyes, silently asking for permission to continue. Without hesitation, Sooyoung pulled you closer to capture your lips with hers. Although her anger from before had fainted by now, she still couldn’t choke down the jealousy that was bubbling inside of her, making her deepen the kiss immediately to claim you, causing you to  squeak silently in surprise before falling into the steady rhythm of her lips.

Despite Sooyoung’s sudden burst of emotions, however, your kisses soon became slow and lazy as you laid beside her and entangled your legs with her to minimize the space between the two of you. Subconsciously, Sooyoung let her hands wander, slipping them underneath your shirt to graze your abdomen softly, making you hum into the kiss.

She had missed this. And she never wanted this evening to end.

Sooyoung promised herself to not let anything get between the two of you today, not even her lips that were swollen and probably incredibly red by now. There was just too much that she wanted to make up for. Once again, however, one of her members thwarted her plans. While the two of you were still laying tightly intertwined on the bed, the door of the room suddenly flew open.

“Y/N! Do you want salty or sweet- oh my god!”

Yerim squealed loudly as she realized what she had just walked into.

Sooyoung quickly pushed you away a bit and whipped her head around to see the younger member standing in the door with her eyes covered and a bright red face.

“Um... I’m so sorry... I-“

Yerim stuttered as she walked backwards and stumbled out of the room.

As soon as the door fell into the locks again, Sooyoung looked at you, causing both of you to start laughing loudly. She let her head fall to your chest and sighed dramatically.

“This dorm will be the death of me.”

You chuckled in response while patting her head comfortingly until Sooyoung swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

“Well I guess that was our cue then...”

She mumbled while trying to get off the bed to join the others.

Suddenly, however, a force pulled her back, causing her to yelp in surprise.

“Y/N! Shouldn’t we stop and go to the living room?”

Sooyoung asked perplexed, figuring that you probably owed an apology to the poor Yerim as well. But apparently you had other plans.

“No, why should we? They have been warned now to better not enter the room. That’s our chance.”

You shrugged causing Sooyoung to slap your arm.

“You are unbelievable...”

She muttered but didn’t put up a fight when you entangled your legs and started to devote your attention to her neck again. Sooyoung immediately started to relax and was willing to forget about the others when you suddenly pulled away. Confused she looked at you, thinking that you might have changed your mind.

“You know that you will always be my favorite person on this planet, right?”

You asked while stroking the outline of her face gently, causing her heart to flutter.

“Yeah, I know. I just wish that we could spend more time together.”

Sooyoung admitted and you nodded understandingly.

“Don’t worry, there will probably come a time when you’d be glad to finally get rid of me. For now, you should enjoy living your dream as long as it lasts.”

You responded, causing her to giggle. She wondered whether the other members would still annoy her in the future, even when Loona wouldn’t exist anymore; secretly, she wished that they would, because it would mean that they would always stay together. But she didn’t want to waste this evening, overthinking. Quickly she shook her head to get rid of all distractions and gave you her attention again.

“Well for now, I want to enjoy this a little longer.”

Sooyoung motioned between the two of you with her head, causing you to grin widely before leaning in for a kiss again.

Lovingly, you started stroking her sides while Sooyoung ran her fingers through your hair, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. Maybe the two of you didn’t have tons of fancy dinner dates or romantic walks by the river, but Sooyoung knew that she wouldn’t want to have it any other way. No hardships in the world could make her want to have a different life and as long as she was your favorite, every memory with you was worthwhile.

[toosicktoocare]

@bloodyfeverdreams: Okay I know this is totally unrealistic- but imagine Geralt singing a lullaby to a sick!Jaskier. like he's been sick for a while and Geralt knows the tune from his time among humans and his hearing and memory have always been incredible so when Jaskier falls ill, when he can't sleep on the ground because he's so uncomfortable because of the fever, just imagine Geralt getting close to Jaskier and softly singing and that calms the bard until he falls asleep? Just thought you'd like that- ily

For you, my sweets, a little drabble!

The fever hit with little to no warning, an almost sudden, rapid rise in body temperature, and Geralt’s been biting the inside of his cheek and clenching his fists to hide his trembling hands because he doesn’t want to show Jaskier how concerned he is, not with the bard fading in and out of panicked consciousness.

While Jaskier’s complained of being more tired than usual the last few days, neither expected him to be struck down by a gripping fever that just will not let up, no matter how much rest Jaskier gets nor how many cool, damp cloths Geralt smooths across Jaskier’s over-heated body.

It’s a fever Geralt’s heard tales of, one that’s relentless, unyielding, boiling the brain from the inside out and burying those who’ve succumbed to it. Unfortunately, Jaskier’s also heard many stories from grief-stricken widows and inconsolable mothers about this fever, so when he manages to wake with a semi-clear head, only so often, he wakes to fear coloring his eyes, to weak hands gripping at Geralt’s arms, and Geralt can only shush Jaskier and try to make his eyes glow with confidence despite feeling anything but.

Nightfall on the third day leaves Jaskier tossing and turning on the cold ground, gritting his teeth and grunting as he shifts from curling in on himself to stave off the chills to tugging weakly at his shirt when a hot flash whips over him. He’s lucid, sort of, and Geralt cannot decide if he can let his guard down a fraction, if he can take Jaskier’s weak struggles as a good sign or not.

“Geralt, I feel dreadful.” Jaskier’s voice is rough, a rasp unfitting for a bard with such a powerful voice, and Geralt cocks one brow, hand dropping to Jaskier’s forehead to feel the heat.

“You look it, too.”

“I can only pray that no one worth a coin stumbles upon my rather undesirable state.”

Geralt only grunts, swallowing back the biting chide to scold Jaskier for caring about his appearance and not if he’ll even beat this fever. He brings another cool cloth to Jaskier’s forehead, letting it rest there for a few moments before sliding it down his flushed cheeks.

“I cannot for the life of me even begin to understand how you sleep on the ground regularly,” Jaskier whines, and Geralt clings a little too hard to the clarity in his rasping words. He frowns when Jaskier jerks to the right, then to the left, then back to the right, before huffing out a deep, hot sigh.

“Jaskier, you need rest. Stop squirming around so much.”

“I can’t,” Jaskier draws out, cracking one, glassy eye open. “The ground is equally too cold and too hot, and it’s very much too hard on my aching joints.”

Geralt sighs, taking muted pity on the bard he’s grown close to, too close in his conflicted opinion. He drags his gaze around their small campsite, quietly contemplating, tuning out Jaskier’s soft groans until he’s setting the cloth aside and easing himself to the ground, lying flat on his back beside Jaskier.

“Come here,” he mutters, and Jaskier whips a too-fast gaze toward him, both eyes now open and widening.

“Geralt of Rivia! That is a scandal waiting to happen--”

“Jaskier,” Geralt growls, and Jaskier’s lips snap shut.

“It’s for your comfort. You need sleep to break this fever.” He holds Jaskier’s gaze, unwilling to back down, and then Jaskier’s glancing around the wooded area, as if looking for a wandering eye, before he’s scooting toward Geralt, curling on his side against him and dropping his cheek to Geralt’s shoulder.

Jaskier’s still moving too much against Geralt, still struggling to find any sense of comfort, so Geralt brings a hand to Jaskier’s damp hair, willing the restless movement to settle under the weight of his steady hand.

“Geralt--”

“Hush.” Geralt’s eyes flick up to the dark sky, gaze flicking from star to star as he begins to very gently card his fingers through Jaskier’s hair. Jaskier’s still at his side, but he can hear the too-quick heartbeats fluttering in the bard’s chest.

He recalls an old lullaby he’s heard an elderly woman sing to her grandchild on a cold, November evening years ago, and he begins to hum, choppy, rough notes that slowly smooth over into a deep, soft melody vibrating low in his throat.

“Close your eyes with the promise, that the sun will rise in the ‘morn. And dream of rivers and lilies, a cloudless sky, and a breeze so warm. And when you rise, I’ll meet your eyes with smile, so sweet and so adored. So just close your eyes with the promise, that the sun will rise in the ‘morn.”

Jaskier’s heart is slower, steady, and his breathing has calmed to deep, sleep-driven breaths. He nuzzles his nose against Geralt’s neck, a content sigh slipping from his lips, and Geralt smiles a hint of a smile toward the sky, his deep voice echoing softly throughout the woods.

(In case you guys wanted to hear this short lullaby I made up in, like, three minutes, here you go!)

[chilling-seavey]

Passchendaele WW2 Extension - Apologies & Forgiveness

T/W Mentions of PTSD, suicidal thoughts, death, and way too many emotions that honestly made me cry while writing so good luck

Charles Christian,

 ...

August 10, 1942

Daniel sat at the writing desk in his bedroom, right under the window, with the curtains open wide so the mid-day sun streaked bright warm light over the surface. He stared blankly at the two simple words he had written at the top of the page. Charles Christian. Two simple words that meant more to him than just sixteen letters in a specific order.

He had written those two words a few months earlier, always finding himself returning to the desk and the same paper and staring down at his drying ink until the hours melted away into evening. Elizabeth didn’t push him – even when she found the paper with the two words while cleaning their room one day – and she just let her husband take his time. It was hard for him but they both knew it needed to be done.

Daniel held the black pen in his right hand, leaking a little puddle of ink onto the corner of the page dully, his forehead resting in his other hand. He breathed steadily. He was sick of himself. Sick that he couldn’t work himself up enough to write his own son for three years. Charlie hadn’t written nearly a word to him in a while and Daniel didn’t blame him that he was acting like he didn’t even have a father. It was what Daniel deserved; at least that’s what he thought.

With a heavy sigh, Daniel slid the pen to the left side of the page and let his hand write for him without thought.

I’m sorry that I have been too much of a coward to write you.

He blinked down at the blunt words that were scribbled in his neat handwriting. Daniel exhaled lightly as if writing that single line was emotionally troubling to him as he re-read it a few times before resting the pen back down on the paper.

I’ve dealt through so much loss in my life of those who were closest to me and I suppose my brain has been trying to convince me that putting space between us would make it easier to cope if – God forbid – something happened to you. I don’t want you to die. You’re my whole life…the reason my heart beats…the reason I get up in the morning…the reason I didn’t kill myself after the Great War. I would be dead and nothing without you and I have made the terrible choice to try and shut you out. I’m sorry.

Daniel sniffled back his tears as his hand scribbled over the paper like it had a mind of its own, pouring the pent-up emotions from his brain onto the paper like therapy.

I’m not a good father. I don’t say that to guilt you, I say that truthfully. I didn’t watch you being born into this world, I didn’t want to hold you while you took your first breaths, and I couldn’t even let myself be alone with you for the first near year of your life. I’m a broken man who somehow raised a son to be everything better than I ever could be. It’s been three years of you fighting for us and yet each of your letters sound just as sweet and joyful as the very first one from training. I was fighting for only barely months and I found myself shattered.

A tear dripped onto the paper and Daniel startled at the realization that he was crying. But he only wiped his cheeks with the back of his left hand and continued to write.

I never told you much about the war while you grew up. I didn’t want you to ever have to ever experience the things I did, even through stories. I didn’t want you to have to experience your friend bleeding out in front of you, or your best mate blowing himself up to save you until his blood dripped down your face, or having to hold your brother in your arms and see the fear in his eyes while he took his last breaths. I wanted to protect you from the horrors of the world and the terrible disgusting things that humans can do to each other. You’re my little boy, Charlie. I would have held you in my arms forever if it meant you’d stay innocent and untainted by humanity. But I couldn’t, and part of me feels like I failed as a father for that.

Daniel took a shuttering breath and he dropped the pen from his hand to hold his face in his palms, choking out a sob through the ache in his heart. Evelyn was at work and Elizabeth was hanging up the laundry outside and Daniel was alone in the house, staining a piece of paper in salty tears until the ink nearly smudged. He got up from the desk for a moment to compose himself, trying to take deep steady breaths like Elizabeth always told him to as he paced the wooden floors of his bedroom, raking his fingers through his hair until it was a mess on top of his head.

He stopped for a moment, eyes catching on one of the small photographs that Elizabeth had taped to the side of the mirror at her dressing table. She had many; some of her parents and sister and friends, a wedding photo, and plenty of their two children, but Daniel’s eyes locked on one in particular. It wasn’t anything large and honestly the lighting was quite dark in the composition but he shifted closer to the mirror and gently tucked a finger under the bottom of the photograph to get a better look.

It was a photograph of himself, standing by that very window in their bedroom that he now wrote a letter in front of, the winter sunlight casting him in almost complete dark shadows from behind but the camera was angled just so that his face was recognizable. He was younger – a good twenty-four years younger – and he held in his arms a tiny newborn baby boy. The hesitation on his face was obvious, the camera picking up the nervousness in his eyes and through his brows, but the calm smile that was forever set on his lips was overpowering. It was a smile of nothing but the strongest love.

Daniel tugged the photograph off the side of the mirror and took it over to the writing desk again as he sat down, tossing the image gently onto the paper as well before picking up the pen. He started a new paragraph.

I have to remind myself that your name carries power with you wherever you go. I hate the word ‘brave’ for my own reasons, but I suppose it’s truly at the root of your existence. Your Uncle Christian was more than my brother; he was my best friend, my comfort, and the one I looked up to most in life. He and I had a connection that I can’t even put into words, but I loved him, and I nearly idolised him, and he truly, in all honesty, was the bravest man I knew. War changed him and it took me until his death to realize that it wasn’t his fault that he became so cold. You have more than his name, Charlie, you have his heart. You have his good heart and his loving and protective nature and I see him in you every single day and, yet, I can so obviously see that war isn’t changing you the way it changed him and the way it changed me. You’re braver and stronger than both of us. You know this well as I tell you often, but he’s your protector, your guardian angel, and I swear to you he’s following you wherever you go to make sure you’re safe and that you will come home to us. He’s a part of you, Charles Christian. More than I am, I hope.

I pray you can forgive me. For not writing, for shutting myself away, and for not being what you deserved. I pray you know that no matter what, I love you. I may not know how to show it very well, but I do love you, so strongly. My heart beats for you since you saved my life. I only pray I could give you half of what you have given me.

Your protector, always and forever,

Dad

Daniel folded the paper into even thirds and slipped it in an envelope that he pulled from the drawer beside him. With one final glance at the photograph he dropped it in with the letter and sealed it, finishing with a steady hand as he wrote the RAF address he had memorized on the front.

August 18, 1942

Elizabeth greeted the post office attendant with a smile and her usual friendly ‘good morning’. They shared niceties as her mail was collected and passed over the counter to her before sharing farewells and Elizabeth was headed back towards home. She smiled down at the thin stack of envelopes in her hand as she walked, her name and address written on the top one in her son’s familiar printing. She flipped to the second, the only other piece of mail for that day, and stopped walking for a beat. Her husband’s name was staring back at her, also in her son’s familiar printing.

Elizabeth knew Daniel finally wrote to their son but honestly she was expecting a bit of a cold shoulder on Charlie’s part. He was, as usual, a very opinionated and passionate young man and if something angered him, he didn’t get over it easily. But she was pleasantly surprised and hurried home to read her letter and deliver the second to her husband.

Daniel was still in bed when she returned – it’s been mentioned it was always hard for him to get out of bed in the morning – and Elizabeth called for him as she slipped off her shoes at the front door and headed for the stairs. Daniel barely acknowledged her when she approached him still tucked up in bed.

“Your son wrote you.” she stated softly.

Daniel’s head whipped around to look at her, his eyes flicking down to the two envelopes in her hand.

“Did he?” Daniel went to grab them but she pulled them out of his reach.

“You can read it after you get up and get dressed and have a good breakfast.”

“Lizzie.” Daniel frowned.

“Up and at ‘em, darling.” Elizabeth leaned down to kiss his lips before heading back out of their bedroom.

Daniel huffed in annoyance but pulled himself out of bed to get ready. He was excited to hear that Charlie wrote him back but, at the same time, he was incredibly nervous. He was preparing for an angry response and by the time he got downstairs after being cleaned and dressed and shaved, he was contemplating not even opening it in fear.

Elizabeth set him at the table with tea and breakfast and watched him take a few bites before she would pass over the letter into his waiting hands. She returned to the kitchen to give him a moment to read his letter in private while she could have a moment to read her own too.

Daniel tore open the envelope and carefully slid out the paper. He took a deep breath before unfolding the paper and began to read.

Dad,

I missed you. I know I’ve sent you angry things these past three years and that was wrong of me. You probably know better than anyone the constant uncertainties that come with being away from home to fight and I was still trying to figure out how to get them all under control…hell, I still barely know. I don’t know if I’ll make it to see tomorrow’s sunrise yet alone the end of the conflict. You’ve always been the one I look up to most and I never saw you as less than a superhero. Maybe I was too young to notice, but I never saw your hesitation or your fears or your guilt as I grew up. I only ever saw my Dad. The man who was a bit over protective but the one I could go to when I had a nightmare or the one who would help me with my homework or who would eat the peas off my plate when Mum wasn’t looking because you knew I hated them. (Seems I had to force myself to like them anyway since the RAF canteens love serving peas on nearly a daily basis). You were my first best friend, my first protector that I could really truly feel, and honestly a bit of my partner in crime. I idolised you, Dad.

You hold Uncle Christian up on this pedestal and honestly, I don’t blame you; he’s your big brother and someone you lost tragically but who deserved to live a long life. I’m more than proud to have his name and I do truly thank you for giving me that, for loving me enough to pass on the one thing that honestly meant the world to you: your brother. But, Dad, you can’t hold him up to this angelic standing if you’re only going to tear yourself down at the same time. War is hard and terrible and really fucking sucks and you are so honourable to have survived that whether you were there fighting for two weeks or four years. It doesn’t make you less of a soldier that you lived and didn’t die; and it doesn’t matter that it left you with some scars – it certainly doesn’t matter to me because I still love you just as much now than I did when I was small and had no clue about the world. It’s not about you being able to protect me and keep me away from the horrors that humans can do to each other, but it’s about being there for me when I realise it, live through it, and come home scared out of my mind. It’s about you being strong enough to watch me walk into danger and still hold me when I get hit down. That’s what makes a father, and you are all that and more. You let me go to fight despite how fucking scared you were, and you read all my letters even if you didn’t respond, and you loved me enough to share your real, raw, uncensored fears and feelings with me.

You may say that I saved your life but, without you and your own strength to brave your hardships and trauma, there wouldn’t be me. You saved yourself, Dad. You have overcome a world of fear and terror and gave me a life that was happy and safe and loving. I don’t know much, and I don’t claim to know more than I do, but one thing I’m certain of is that I wouldn’t trade you as my father for anyone else.

I love you. Always and forever, Dad. I promise.

Your son,

Charles Christian

P.S. I already taped our first photograph to the dashboard in my plane. Uncle Christian may always be with me, but now you are too.

Taglist: @randomlimelightxxx​ @hopinglimelight​ @jonahlovescoffee​ @hiya-its-amber​ @chanelwonders​

[dr0wning-in-hell]

Admitted - Alex Summers

Summary : Y/N and Alex are always competing, and after losing to Y/N Alex is a bit upset. When he goes to tell her something out of annoyance feelings are admitted, starting something they were both waiting for.

Word Count : 1.6k+

Warnings : competition, sMuT, fingering, oral (f), langage, fluff

Pairing/Characters : Alex Summers x reader, Jean Grey, Scott Summers, Hank McCoy.

Prompt : “ could you pls do an alex summers smut where the reader and him always try to compete with each other and the reader finally gets sick of it, they both realise they have feelings for each other and then have sex? akskjdskjdsk.” Anon

A/N : IM TRYING TO GET AS MANY IMAGINES/REQUESTS WRITTEN BY TOMORROW  SO BE PREPARED.

New Masterlist | Prompt List

Y/N and Alex had been at this game for months now, constantly competing against the other to see who was better. Everyone thought it was just a game at first so they jumped in and cheered on their friends and then tallied up the scores. It was a tie about 99.9% of the time. This game began to grow old and people stopped participating, except for Alex and Y/N.

“Think you can beat me, Y/L/N?” Alex grinned as you two were about to go on a run for training. The rest of the X-Men were there of course and all groaned loudly at how childish the two were being. 

“Oh I know I can.” Y/N smirked back as she stretched. 

Hank stepped out onto the field with them, “Let’s go.” And so they went. It was more like a leisurely jog at first and then Alex caught u with Y/N who was at the front talking with Jean. 

“You’re too slow, Y/L/N.” He was just trying to get under her sin at this point, rile her up and make her angry. 

“Don’t listen to him to Y/N.” Jean said as they ran, “You’re better than him.” 

Y/N looked over at the blonde, “Yeah I am better than him.” Her strides grew and she was running faster than everyone. “Which is why I’m going to beat you!” She yelled as she was now further ahead then the others.

Alex groaned and picked up his pace to meet hers. It didn’t take long till they were neck and neck, running at the same pace. Both of them would be lying if they were to be asked if they had feelings for each other and responded with ‘no.’ They liked each other and everyone knew it, they knew it too but they didn’t want to admit to it. It’s why they’re always competing. 

As they ran they made rude remarks to try and piss off the other one, which only spurred on the competition. Y/N was determined to win, so when she saw Alex slowing down because he was getting tired she sped up and beat him. It was only minutes later that he caught up with her, tired and out of breathe. 

“Looks like I won, Summers.” Y/N smirked. She blew him a playful kiss and winked before going into the mansion to clean herself up.

“You two just need to fuck and admit your feelings already.” His brother, along with the rest of the team were sitting on the grass in front of the doors. 

Alex looked around with furrowed eyebrows, “How did you- did you guys even run?” He panted. 

“Once you and Y/N ran off we just decided to come back and see who would win.” Scott said, “We all agreed that Y/N would.” He smirked at his brother. Alex rolled his eyes as he went to go walk by them.

“So are you going to go do it?” Jean asked. Alex looked at her with a confused expression, “Are you going to go admit your feelings to her?”

Alex sighed and shook his head, “There’s no feelings that need to be admitted.” He walked into the school and headed to his bedroom, which just so happened to be across the hall from Y/N’s. There was music playing from her Vinyl and it echoed into the hallway. Alex was already annoyed so the sound of her music just annoyed him further. He went to go tell her to turn it down but was greeted by something else.

The door was cracked open slightly and even though he knew he should knock he just didn’t. He peeked through the crack and saw Y/N standing in front of her mirror, wearing only a pair of very short Nike shorts and a lace bralette. Even though he said there were no feelings to be admitted, the sigh in front of him made him want to tell her everything.

Y/N looked up into the mirror and saw him peeking through and screamed, grabbing the first thing near her, - which was a book - and chucked it at his head. 

“Jesus! Are you fucking watching me, you pervert!” Y/N screeched as she went to pick up her book. Alex was now looking everywhere else but at Y/N. She grumbled to herself as she put the book back, the boy was still just standing there. “Do you have something to say, Summers?” She asked with an irritated tone.

Alex looked at her, the butterflies in his stomach seemed to have their own butterflies since he couldn’t find a single thing to say. Y/N went to push the door shut but then Alex said something he never thought he would say. 

“I like you.” He blurted out, pupils wide and cheeks flushed. 

Y/N’s mouth hung open, “Y-you what? Did I hear you correctly?” Her eyes were wide, she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. 

Alex gulped, “I really like you.” He stepped just a little closer to her and she did the same until there was no more space between them. There were no words shared as she cupped his face and pressed her lips to his. Alex was shocked at first but then it felt like the weight of the world had just been pushed off his shoulders. She liked him back, and those feelings were finally admitted.

The two stepped into Y/N’s room, the door shutting behind them as Alex swiftly lifted Y/N and her legs hooked around his waist. The kiss was heating up, their hands were roaming each other’s bodies, tugging at the other. Alex laid Y/N on her comforter, pulling away to rest his forehead against hers as he caught his breathe.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He said in a soft voice, his hands were stroking his arms gently, as if she would break. She nodded, mumbling a soft ‘yes’ before her hands were tugging his shirt over his head, Sure she had seen Alex shirtless countless of times in training, but this was different.. They were seeing each other in a new way. His hands caressed the material of her bra and she couldn’t help but chuckle at him.

“Just take it off, Summers.” Sitting up she unhooked the back and let him take it off the rest of the way. Goosebumps littered her skin as he drank in the sight in front of him. Their heated makeout session continued as their hands gripped the others skin, her nails raking through his hair and down his back, and his hands groping her breasts and pulling out the loveliest moans from her.

After making out for a bit longer the rest of their clothes had been discarded and they were breathing heavily. “Gonna make you feel so good, promise I’ll take care of you.” Alex mumbled softly as he gave Y/N’s lips a quick peck and then left hickies and love bites down her chest, stomach, and the insides of her thighs. He had barely touched her and she was already soaking wet for him. He already knew how aroused she was just from the slight movements of her bucking her hips up against his lips. At first it was just soft kisses around where she needed him most, and then his middle finger slid up and down her folds to spread her wetness. She let out a shaky breathe, trying to stay calm as she was eagerly waiting. 

Y/N let out a long moan as Alex finally slid his thick fingers into her and slowly filled her up. He watched as Y/N’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as she was swallowed up by the ecstacy. He moved his finger at a steady pace, his eyes trained of the girl above him to make sure she wasn’t in any pain. When he thought she was okay he slid two more fingers into her soaking cunt.

“Fuck.” Y/N moaned out, her hand slapping over her mouth as she kept in her screams. “Feels so good, fuck- so good.” She mumbled breathlessly against her skin. Alex smirked, a sense of pride filling him as he was making her feel this incredible sensation. His actions continued, his fingers would curl until his was knuckles deep and he was scissoring her walls.Y/N’s hips were bucking against his hand, her thighs quivering as she was getting close to release. 

“Wanna taste you,” Alex said when he felt her walls pulsate against his fingers. He leaned his head down and attached his mouth to her throbbing clit, the feeling so overwhelming that Y/N came quickly on his tongue and fingers. She was letting out soft whimpers of his name as she rode out her high.

When Y/N opened her eyes again she watched as Alex was smiling down at her as he licked his fingers clean of her juices. “You taste so good, just like candy.” Y/N blushed and her heart did a backflip in her chest. “We can continue this later, I think right now we need a power nap.” Alex said as he laid next to her, pulling her close to him. 

“But that’s not fair, you didn’t cum yet.” Y/N protested as she tried to sit up.

Alex pushed her back down before nuzzling his head in her hair, “Later, I promise. Just wanna hold you right now.” He sigh tiredly. Y/N just smiled softly and snuggled up against him, their breathing soon even as they fell asleep.

Hopefully when they woke up they were ready for more fun.

[irwen-s]

Hi I love your regressed Joohyun stuff. I was wondering if you could write how Joohyun is when the little is in a good mood with the other four girls at home. I imagine she has fun and plays with yerseuljoy but always takes time to get cuddles or to make sure her Wannie is nearby. Thanks! I love your writing!

i am here to join the train of baby joohyun writing that has been happening lately 

when in a good mood, joohyun regressed comes off as a peaceful, docile little thing. but after spending so much time with her, her unnies and seungwan have come to understand that there’s more to joohyun than just muted calmness.

joohyun almost always wants to be held, or to at least maintain skin contact with one of the others, and so most of her play time is spent in one of the members’ laps. other times she’s on the ground, sitting between someone’s legs, because she can always be sure she isn’t alone when there’s someone pressed against her back or playing with her hair. she’s naturally a clingy little, one in desperate need of physical affection to remind her she’s being cared for.

the others don’t mind this at all, of course. joohyun doesn’t fuss around much if there’s nothing bothering her, so she’s quiet and tranquil when at ease. she can easily be kept occupied with one of her stuffed toys or even a few fabrics of clothing that are fresh out of the laundry; seated in one of the member’s laps and instinctively suckling her paci, she’ll nose into whatever soft item is in her arms, looking completely enamoured by whatever interesting smell it has. it’s kind of endearing to watch. 

she also doesn’t require that much attention. joohyun is perfectly content with just resting in one of their arms as she listens to them talk, feeling the vibrations of their voice against her back as the arms wrapped around her waist absentmindedly pat her stomach. sometimes she’ll look up and follow whoever’s speaking with her eyes, as if she’s trying to participate in the conversation, though the rest of the members aren’t sure how much of it all she’s actually able to understand. 

at the same time as joohyun appears fine with just listening and being near the others, though, her unnies and seungwan still pour their attention on her all the same. and it’s clear that even if joohyun never asks for it, it makes her incredibly happy whenever they do.

 sometimes when joohyun has just woken up from a nap, she’s picked up in sooyoung’s arms and carried out into the living room where a few of her toys have been laid out. they’ll sit on the floor together with a few toy building blocks and begin to build random things together. joohyun has no real idea what she’s trying to build sometimes, but she loves how the pieces fit together in so many different ways, and sooyoung is always there to help guide her along when she’s lost on what to do next. it’s a relaxing activity that they can both enjoy in peaceful silence, with occasional happy gurgles from joohyun and sooyoung’s answering chuckles. 

other times sooyoung might set up some jenga blocks. joohyun at first didn’t exactly understand how to play the game, but then sooyoung pulled out one of the middle blocks until it was stuck halfway out of the rest of the tower. she nudges joohyun forward then, and when joohyun tentatively pulls the block out, she squeaks excitedly behind her paci to see that despite an obvious gap in the tower, it remains standing.

it’s absolute magic to her. she makes sooyoung do it again and again, picking out blocks for joohyun to pull the rest of the way out, as many as they can until the jenga tower inevitably collapses. joohyun is practically bouncing in her lap by the end of it, beyond pleased and begging sooyoung with little whines to play again. and with a laugh, sooyoung begins to set the tower up again.

once in a while, the rest of the members will join them in playing. the middle blocks are exclusively reserved for joohyun, which means she basically almost always ends up winning. she always bursts into giggles whenever the tower collapses as a result of one of the other members, clapping excitedly and gurgling nonsensically as they groan in defeat. but there are grins all around, seeing how happy joohyun looks, surrounded by the rest of her members, together as a family.

when yerim and seulgi sit down with her to doodle, seulgi’s hands helping guide joohyun’s more clumsy ones as she draws on scratch paper, her cheeks flush from both concentration and excitement as she focuses intently on her artwork. 

yerim likes to tease her about her doodles sometimes, and although joohyun doesn’t really understand what she’s saying, she watches as seulgi says something in protest before giving yerim a light smack on the arm. it leads to yerim elbowing her back, and joohyun just sits there giggling and clapping her hands between them as her unnies get into a funny play squabble. 

(yerim is always the one who saves all of joohyun’s doodles though, and occasionally she hangs a few of them up around the dorm.) 

when joohyun is with yerim, there is almost always something to do, because yerim just includes joohyun in whatever activity she’s in the midst of. if yerim happens to be in the middle of a book at the time, she’ll pick joohyun up and seat her in her lap, then begins to read out loud instead.

at some point she caught on to the fact that joohyun loves listening to the others talk mainly because of the soothing sounds their voices create when joohyun is pressed against them. it always helps her relax, and she grows drowsy just from feeling the vibrations through their chest. it doesn’t seem to matter what they’re saying either. even if joohyun can’t understand, she just enjoys hearing them talk. yerim ends up being the one she goes to whenever she seeks this kind of comfort.

other times, yerim has joohyun in her lap as she settles down in front of her keyboard and sound mixer. it’s a bit too complex for joohyun when she’s little, of course, so yerim usually lets joohyun play around with just the keyboard, since all she has to do is press different buttons and listen as they produce different sounds.

although joohyun isn’t able to actually create any real melody, she seems incredibly pleased every time she presses down on every key and listens as a new sound is emitted. yerim plays along with her, sometimes taps out a little melody and then watches amusedly as joohyun clumsily tries to repeat it with her own fingers, huffing quietly in concentration. 

sometimes it’s seulgi that scoops her up and carries her off, joohyun giggling as seulgi plops them both on her bed, joohyun flopped down on top of her. seulgi usually just likes to listen to music or nap, but joohyun seems to be completely fine with spending time with her despite not really doing anything. she’ll suckle her paci as she squeaks and gurgles, nuzzling her nose into seulgi as seulgi props her up on her chest, coddling her back, equally affectionate. 

eventually they’ll settle in, joohyun resting quietly on top of her and listening to the steady beat of her heart as seulgi scrolls through her phone looking for good music to play on her speakers, humming absentmindedly. 

if one of the other members happen to walk in a while later, they’ll end up seeing seulgi and joohyun dozing away peacefully, seulgi snoring softly, her arms wrapped protectively around joohyun as she snuffles in her sleep.

and with seungwan, joohyun is just content with knowing she’s there, always right around the corner. 

at the end of it all, joohyun usually begins to whimper softly, looking around as if in search for something. that’s usually when her unnies know she wants to spend time with seungwan. seungwan is most often somewhere nearby as a result, always ready to scoop her into her arms whenever joohyun whines for her. once tucked against seungwan’s chest, joohyun breathes a sigh of relief, relaxing in her arms as she nuzzles into the side of seungwan’s neck, taking in her scent. 

it’s clear to everyone in the dorm that seungwan is joohyun’s primary caretaker, the one she always needs to be near. so whenever joohyun ends up regressing, seungwan always makes sure to be home in order to take care of her. 

the two of them spend time together in pretty ordinary ways. when joohyun is little, that’s usually when seungwan chooses to haul out the pile of fresh, dry laundry into the living room. she carries joohyun out and plops them both down on the couch, and joohyun begins to gurgle excitedly behind her paci as she reaches toward the pile of clothes, nuzzling into it happily as she breathes in the scent of newly washed fabric. while seungwan begins to iron and fold all their clothes, humming softly the whole while, joohyun takes a strong interest in sniffing each article of clothing that passes through seungwan’s hands. 

she also watches curiously as seungwan carefully folds shirts and pants, smoothing out wrinkles and tucking in sleeves. seungwan bursts out laughing whenever she sees joohyun trying to copy her, hands firmly patting out the corners of something seungwan herself might have missed.

seungwan also bakes more often, knowing joohyun always wants to watch her whenever she’s doing so. the kitchen is usually avoided since it’s a bit too dangerous for joohyun when she’s regressed, but seungwan will set up her supplies at the dining table and sit down with joohyun in her lap. 

joohyun gets a little mischievous then. seungwan might be singing softly while measuring out some flour, only to squawk in surprise at having some smeared across her nose. when she looks down, she sees joohyun giggling with her paci nearly falling out of her mouth, her palm stained a telling white. 

seungwan, of course, smudges her cheek back. then she has to stop joohyun from trying to knock the rest of the flour over in an attempt to pour it all over seungwan. the dining room is always filled with laughter on those days, and if the other members come in to see the place is an utter mess, at this point they aren’t really that surprised.

as a result, seungwan’s attempts at baking are admittedly not always that productive whenever joohyun is regressed. but neither of them seem to care.

joohyun’s favourite way to end the day is spending time together with all of her members. it usually consists of watching a movie together in the living room, everyone seated around the television, joohyun usually wrapped up in her blanket and tucked warmly in seungwan’s arms.

yerim converses with seungwan about what film is appropriate for joohyun to watch while seulgi and sooyoung banter over which side of the couch they’ll each take, only for seulgi to let out a yelp as she’s dragged into sooyoung’s lap anyways. joohyun squeaks in surprise as she’s jostled by their movements, but then yerim tickles her chin and plants a little kiss on her nose, easily diverting her attention away. seungwan watches on with exasperated fondness, running her fingers through joohyun’s hair. 

the lights will be dimmed, so that they’re all huddled close together and watching the movie. at some point during the film, feeling safe and coddled in seungwan’s hold, surrounded by her unnies, joohyun will grow sleepy and eventually nod off, soothed by the easy rhythm of seungwan’s heartbeat by her ear. 

it’s a peaceful ending to another day spent with the people closest to her. and joohyun feels so incredibly loved.

[sora-writes-things]

In My Blood

Cryptid AU Oneshot

Content warnings: Cursing, blood (minor), and a small bit of body horror (technically?? idk, you be the judge lmao).

This one focuses on Vampire! Luca’s transformation into a vampire after Aesop attacked him and took enough blood for him to become affected by it. This is also one of my favorite oneshots that I’ve written from this AU, so enjoy!

————————————————————————

Luca absentmindedly rubbed at his neck with his hand, wincing as his touch caused the puncture wounds on the side of his neck to sting a little. He was still a bit freaked out by the whole thing, since he’d been practically ambushed by someone he thought was just trying to be friendly...

And that person just so happened to be a vampire, and he’d sucked out a good portion of his blood.

The blood loss wasn’t significant enough to be fatal, but it was definitely enough to make him feel incredibly drained.

He had been completely spaced out when he felt a light tap on his shoulder, causing him to flinch. He turned to look at who tapped him, relieved to see Tracy settling down on the floor next to him.

“... Are you okay? You seem a little pale...”

Luca hesitated. Should he tell her what happened? Or should he just keep it a secret, like Aesop had asked him to do?

“It’s all good... I’m just... tired...” Luca finally said, flashing her a dreary smile. It wasn’t entirely a lie- he was extremely exhausted.

Tracy nodded, though she looked unconvinced. “Okay... You should probably get some sleep if you’re super tired...” She stole a glance at him, concern flashing in her eyes. “You really don’t look so great...”

Luca hummed softly in response before he felt the exhaustion completely take over, his consciousness slipping from his grasp as he fell over towards the mechanic, instantly falling asleep.

Tracy flinched, surprised by the suddenness of his actions. She stared down at him for a moment before managing to stand without disturbing him. “Well... This isn’t a great place for sleep... I should take you to your room...”

Luca twitched, but didn’t wake up. Tracy sighed, slightly reluctant to try to drag him, but not seeing any other method of getting him where he needed to be.

The mechanic gently moved him away from the wall he was propped up against before picking him up from under his arms and attempting to drag him, though it was incredibly difficult with how much larger he was than she was.

“Jeez Luca... You couldn’t pass out closer to your room?”

She continued to drag him, though her progress was slow due to her lack of strength, until she finally reached her adopted brother’s room, allowing his limp body to slump to the ground as she opened the door.

Luca groaned quietly as he stirred slightly, his eyes still closed. Tracy turned back to him with a renewed look of concern in her eyes. “Luca... Are you sure you’re okay...? You’re really pale...”

The other survivor didn’t answer, still not fully conscious or capable of giving a verbal response. Tracy sighed again, picking up his front end once more and dragging him into his room.

She propped him up against his bed before heading back towards the door, considering leaving for a moment but eventually deciding to stay with her brother. He was acting really weird, and she was worried about him.

She closed the door and turned back towards Luca... Only to stop dead in her tracks as she noticed something different about his appearance.

His eyes were half-open, and the very edge of his irises had shifted from their usual gray color to a bright purple hue... And the color continued to change with the longer she stared.

“...Tracy..?”

The mechanic flinched as her brother spoke, though his voice sounded slightly rougher then normal. “Yeah...?”

“...Can you stay here with me? At least for a little bit?”

“Umm... Yeah? What’s wrong?” Tracy cautiously walked over and sat down next to him, her concern rekindled once again.

Luca was quiet for a moment before he answered. “I feel... really weird...” He put a hand to his forehead, exhaling shakily.

Tracy didn’t respond, not wanting to bring up what she had seen out of fear that he would panic. She stared down at her feet, not wanting to look into her brother’s unfamiliar eyes.

Luca leaned into the mechanic, his head resting on her shoulder. “I’m not sick... I’ve felt fine all day... So I can’t be sick... Can I?”

“I mean... It’s possible? You could be dehydrated or something...” Tracy replied, glancing over at him and biting her lip.

Luca shook his head. “No no... It’s not that...” He sighed. “I don’t know what’s wrong... All I know is that something doesn’t feel right.”

“Well... It’s kinda hard to help you when I don’t know exactly what’s wrong...”

He laid down next to her, laying his head down against her leg and closing his eyes. “I can’t explain it... I’m really tired... My neck is sore, my head kinda hurts... I’m hungry....” He paused, fidgeting for a moment. “There’s this spot between my shoulders that feels really weird... And my mouth feels weird too...”

He covered his eyes with his hands, exhaling slowly. “I really don’t know what’s going on...”

Tracy didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t sure of what was happening either, and she didn’t know how to help. “...Should I get Emily?”

“No- Uhh... I mean, I think I can h-handle this on my own...” He forced a grin, but his sister could see right through it.

“Clearly not, if you’re so insistent that I stay,” Tracy pointed out, idly running her hand through Luca’s hair as she tried to think of what could be wrong.

“We don’t need to bother Emily... We can figure it out...” He opened his eyes, which had fully shifted to a bright violet color. “...Right?”

Tracy shrugged, averting her gaze once more. “I guess... I’m honestly thinking you just need some sleep...”

Luca sat up, rubbing at his damaged eye with a blank expression. “Sleep has never really been that big of a deal with me...”

A moment of silence fell on the two adopted siblings, with Tracy staring mindlessly at the door and Luca gazing past the mechanic with a hazy look in his eyes.

Tracy’s attention was soon brought back to her brother as he suddenly twitched, reaching back towards the space between his shoulders with one arm.

“You good..?” Tracy asked, raising an eyebrow slightly.

Luca kept rubbing at the spot, narrowing his eyes as if he were fiercely concentrated on something. “What...?” He suddenly froze, the irritated expression on his face being replaced by a look of pure horror.

“Luca...?”

His breathing became hitched as panic began to settle in, although Tracy has no idea why. “What the hell..?”

The mechanic’s confusion turned into concern once more, and she turned to face her brother, though she stopped herself from doing anything else. “What? What’s the matter?”

His breathing continued to escalate, and his other hand slowly rose up to cover his mouth. “Wh-What the fuck?!”

Tracy couldn’t see it, but beneath Luca’s hand, he could feel a strange lump emerging just behind his shoulder blade, and he could only assume that the same thing was happening behind his other shoulder as well.

“Luca, please...” She put her hands on his arms, hoping she could get him to look her in the eyes. Luckily, he seemed to get the message, and he glanced up, a terrified gleam in his violet-colored eyes.

She felt her heart wrench a little at the sight of Luca’s distressed expression. She’d never seen him so distraught before. Whatever was happening certainly wasn’t good.

“I want to help you, but I can’t do that if you keep trying to hide things... So please..? Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“I-I don’t...” He glanced back, lifting his hand for a brief moment before covering the spot back up after realizing that the lump was continuing to grow larger, pressing against the fabric of his shirt a bit.

He shuddered before looking back up at Tracy, the fear in his eyes becoming increasingly prominent. “I don’t know what’s going on... But I’m scared, Trace...”

The mechanic felt a chill crawl up her spine at his words, not used to hearing such tangible fear in his voice. “I-It’s okay... I won’t leave... I’m here for you, alright..?”

A reluctant smile appeared on his face for a brief moment, though he didn’t seem any more relaxed despite his sister’s attempt at comforting him. “Okay...”

After a few moments, Luca was able to calm himself down, still keeping his hand over the strange lump behind his shoulder for a short while after before he decided to let it go, seeing as his panic wasn’t helping anything.

He could handle this.

Sure, whatever was going on was incredibly weird, but he was certain he would get through it.

He was probably just imagining it.

After all, he was extremely tired. All sorts of crazy stuff could happen when you’re sleep-deprived.

Luca had just managed to calm himself down completely when his shoulders suddenly twitched involuntarily, just before he felt something push up from where the weird lumps had formed behind his shoulder blades, causing him to yelp in surprise as he lurched forward towards his sister, gripping her shoulders as if to steady himself.

Tracy didn’t notice anything immediately, but she jumped at Luca’s vocalization and sudden movement, along with the brief sound of fabric tearing. “Luca?!”

Luca didn’t look her in the eyes, moving a hand to his mouth once more. “Oh my god...”

He didn’t want to look back. He had a vague idea of what had happened, but he didn’t want to confirm it.

“Luc...” Tracy trailed off as she caught a glimpse of something moving out of the corner of her eye, causing her to steal a glance over her brother’s shoulder.

What she saw made her heart skip a beat.

Folded against Luca’s back was a pair of small black and midnight-purple wings, resembling those of a bat.

“T-Tracy... I-I’m really freaked out right now... Wh-What’s going on..? What’s happening to me?” Luca’s voice broke with undeniable fear, clearly struggling to keep himself from panicking in the situation.

Tracy hesitated before she spoke. “Do you want a hug..?”

Luca nodded, allowing his sister to pull him into her embrace. The terrified survivor immediately felt comforted by the mechanic’s presence, resting his head on her shoulder. “Thanks, Trace...”

He closed his eyes for a moment before he suddenly became aware of something else.

It was something he hadn’t noticed before, but he could feel the mechanic’s pulse from where his head was positioned.

He wasn’t sure why, but he began to feel a strong sense of hunger gnawing at his insides... and that pulse of life that was just in front of his nose was becoming strangely tempting.

In that moment, something primal began to take root in Luca’s mind, and he turned his head so that he was facing the mechanic’s neck.

All he could think about was that overwhelming hunger he felt inside. Everything else seemed to fade away to the back of his consciousness. Anything rational that would have spoken up was instantly shoved away by the promise of blood- which his thoughts insisted would satisfy his starvation.

He wasn’t aware of his canine teeth rapidly growing into sharp fangs as he lost all control over himself, suddenly lunging toward the side of Tracy’s neck and biting down, breaking her skin and drawing blood.

“Ow!! Luca, stop! That hurts!” Tracy yelped loudly in both pain and shock, struggling for a moment and kicking out her legs, managing to strike the other survivor in the gut and prompting him to let her go.

Luca released her, scrambling backwards and growling slightly while holding a hand to his midsection, where he’d been kicked. The feral gleam dissipated from his eyes as he stared at her, horrified by what he’d done.

The smell of blood hit him like a bullet, at the same moment he caught a glimpse of a tiny trickle of blood running down his sister’s neck. He held a hand to his mouth, sickened by the knowledge that he’d done it.

Tracy glanced at him with a hurt look in her eyes. “Wh-Why did you bite me...?”

Tears welled up in the corners of Luca’s eyes as the words left her mouth. “Oh my god... I-I’m so sorry...”

“Luca...” Tracy kept her tone as gentle as she could, trying not to freak him out even more.

“I... I attacked you...” He gnawed on the fabric of his glove, continuing to back away from the mechanic as his breathing escalated once more. “Holy fuck, Tracy...”

The scent of blood was overwhelming. It was simultaneously both nauseating him and feeding his uncontrollable hunger at the same time, and it was becoming too much for him to handle.

He stole a glance at the door for a brief moment before looking back at Tracy, his eyes wide with horror.

“Luca... It’s alright... I’m fine...”

The terrified survivor hesitated for a split second before he suddenly jumped to his feet, his newly-developed wings fluttering as he made a beeline for the door, throwing it open and bolting into the hallway.

“Luca, wait!” Tracy shouted after him, but it was no use. He was already far gone by that point.

He heard her call, but didn’t slow down. He didn’t want to. He had to get away as fast as he could, before that awful hunger took over and forced him to hurt her once more.

He blindly ran towards the main lobby of the manor, hoping to find someone he could feed off of, at least enough to satisfy his need for blood.

He burst into the room, panting heavily as he looked around, his violet-eyed gaze resting on Freddy.

The wererabbit was staring off into the distance, though his expression implied that he was deep in thought. Luca crept forward, instantly picking up on a pulse of life that was similar to what he’d been tempted by earlier... Except the voice in the back of his mind wasn’t protesting against what he was planning to do.

So, in one quick motion, Luca shot forward with a feral hiss, grabbing ahold of the lawyer and pulling him out of his chair, which fell to the floor with a loud clatter as he pinned the other survivor against the wall, biting down on his neck and letting the taste of blood wash over his tongue.

Freddy had let out one small, shrill screech before Luca slapped his hand over his mouth, silencing him. He pulled away from the lawyer’s neck for a brief instant, his lips stained with blood as he glared at the wererabbit.

“Don’t scream. Let me take what I need, and I’ll let you go without draining every ounce of blood from your pathetic body. Understand?” The vampire growled, his eyes alight with feral bloodlust.

Freddy, his face almost completely colorless, barely managed a nod, his heart racing a mile a minute as Luca bit down on his neck once more, greedily taking as much blood as he could in the moment he had before...

“...Luca!”

The newly-turned vampire pulled away at the distant sound of his sister’s voice, and he quickly bolted off towards the door to the gardens. Once he got there, he sat down on the edge of the fountain, as far away from the door as possible.

Gradually, he felt the gnawing hunger in his stomach begin to fade, leaving him to think about what had happened.

“Holy shit... I’m a vampire...” Luca murmured, his wings fluttering slightly.

The motion grabbed his attention, prompting him to think about himself for a moment. He began to realize just how weird his whole situation was. Since when did vampires have wings?

He stared back at the small bat wings, pondering it for a moment. Did Aesop have wings? And if he did, how did he hide them so well?

He sighed, bowing his head and staring at the toes of his boots, trying to take his mind off of everything.

His moment of peace didn’t last long though as he heard the creak of a door opening, followed by the sounds of cautious footsteps.

Luca frantically turned his head to catch a glimpse of whoever had come into the garden, his violet eyes wide with alarm. However, his panic quickly faded as none other than Aesop stepped out into the open, his blood-red eyes gleaming silver in the moonlight.

Luca felt an intense anger begin to boil up within him, his expression furious as he locked gazes with the other vampire. “Why are you here? Haven’t you done enough?!”

Aesop halted in his tracks, glancing back towards the door. “...I didn’t think I’d find you here.”

“I didn’t think you’d come to find me after what you did earlier,” Luca’s voice shook with poorly suppressed rage, his blood-stained lips pulled back to reveal his sharpened fangs.

Aesop huffed under his breath, continuing in his approach towards the angered survivor. Luca visibly tensed with the closer Aesop drew to him, much to the silver-haired vampire’s annoyance.

“Relax. I’m not gonna take any more blood from you.”

“Of course you aren’t!” Luca practically exploded, causing Aesop to flinch. “You fucking turned me, you idiot!”

The embalmer went silent, averting his gaze once more, clearly regretting what he’d done. But Luca didn’t stop there.

“Well, guess what?! Because of you, I attacked my sister! I fucking turned on her and bit her! And it’s all your fault!”

Aesop winced, finding himself completely consumed with guilt. “Okay... First of all, I never intended to turn you... Second of all...” He trailed off for a moment. “There’s not much I can do about it now.”

“Are you kidding me?! I attacked my goddamn sister! And if you hadn’t done this to me, it woulda never happened!” Luca snapped, unable to calm himself down.

Aesop said nothing. He had no idea of how to respond to anything the other survivor was saying. He felt guilty as hell, and honestly? He had good reason to.

He had let himself get far too carried away with taking Luca’s blood. He had been incredibly greedy, and this was his consequence.

And so, because of his guilt, he allowed the other vampire to keep chewing him out, not really sure of what else to do in the situation.

“I could have killed her, Aesop.” Tears had begun to well up in Luca’s eyes once more. “I could have killed her, and she would have been dead! And no one could fix it!”

“You literally couldn’t kill her, you weren’t hungry enough, and I doubt you could even take that much blood so early...” Aesop mumbled under his breath, not wanting to actually speak up about it because he knew that Luca wouldn’t be in a good frame of mind to actually listen.

“I woulda had my sister’s blood on my hands! My fucking sister! She’s one of the only people I actually care about in this hellhole! I-I don’t know what I’d do with myself if anything happened!” He sniffled, his shoulders shaking. “There’s a difference between killing a random person and killing someone you care about... And I don’t wanna be reminded of what that feels like... Not again...”

Aesop was quiet for a moment. “Luca, nobody’s dead. Sure, that could’ve happened, but it didn’t. The past is in the past, and you’re just gonna screw yourself over more if you keep reflecting on it.”

When Luca spoke again, his voice came out as a bitterly broken hiss. “Aesop, you don’t understand! If I did it now, who’s to say I won’t try to do it again?? I might kill her next time! All because you decided that you wanted a snack!”

Aesop became defensive at the accusation. “I was starving, Luca. I didn’t realize it would turn you. And if you listen to me for five goddamn seconds, it won’t happen again.”

Luca’s wings fluttered for a moment. “Why should I listen to you?! For all I know, you’ll find a way to make things worse somehow!”

Aesop sighed. “Look. I know for a fact that you’re still hungry. Give it a week or two, and you’ll be after Tracy again. You’ll end up putting her in the same situation I ‘put’ you in. Do you want that to happen?”

Luca was silent, though the intensity of his violet-eyed glare didn’t lessen.

“Hurting people is, for the most part, optional. So if you don’t want to hurt her, you’re gonna have to listen to me.”

Luca huffed irritably before responding. “Fine. I’ll listen to you... But if I still hurt her, I’ll make you regret being born.”

The embalmer rolled his eyes at that statement. “Yeah, you have fun with that.” He glanced over at Luca, narrowing his eyes as he noticed that the other vampire was glaring sourly at him. “Don’t give me attitude, I swear to god. I’ll kick your ass.”

“You shoulda thought about that before you turned me into a fucking vampire,” Luca retorted angrily. “And I’d like to see you try to attack me again.”

Aesop snickered. “You think I would purposely give you immortality? Fuck no! I don’t want to deal with you any longer than I have to.”

“Well, too bad for you, ‘cuz you’re stuck with me now!” Luca sneered, sticking his tongue out at the other vampire. “Besides, it’s all your fault anyway.”

“Why are you so insistent on that?”

“Because it is!”

Aesop raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Please, elaborate on how preventing myself from starving to death is cause for you to hate me with such a burning passion.”

“You could have chosen anyone else. But no! It just had to be me, didn’t it?”

“Really? Name literally one person I could have gotten away with.” A challenging gleam appeared in the embalmer’s blood-red eyes. “Name one person.”

“Let’s see... Freddy and Kreacher off the top of my head. Nobody cares about them. I fed off of Freddy myself just a few minutes ago,” Luca replied, a snarky tone in his voice.

“They’re both cryptids,” Aesop pointed out. “Unless the victim is 100% human, neither of us get jack-shit out of it.”

Luca looked away with a scowl, crossing his arms. After a moment, he spoke again. “Fine. Who else is human around here?”

“Nobody, as far as I know.” The silver-haired vampire paused. “Tracy and Helena are. But we both know why both of those people are terrible ideas.”

Luca cursed under his breath, not wanting to admit that Aesop was right.

“Tracy’s got an army of robots to defend herself with, and Helena’s got at least half the manor on her side, including two werewolves and a literal Mother Bear.”

Luca shot a glare back in Aesop’s direction, remaining silent.

“What? I’m right, aren’t I?”

The other vampire still didn’t answer. He knew Aesop was right, but he was far too ticked off at him to admit it.

Under his mask, Aesop had a smug grin on his face, and it didn’t take Luca long to pick up on it.

“Stop,” Luca hissed, his eyes narrowed.

“What?”

“C’mon. I know you’re smiling under that stupid mask.”

Aesop hummed in amusement, raising an eyebrow. “Hm. I have no idea why you’d think that, Luca.”

“I can see it on your face!” Luca insisted, his wings flapping slightly.

Aesop barely held back a chuckle. “You can’t see shit.”

“I can see shit, and I know you’re smiling! I’ll rip that dumb mask off your face to prove it!” Luca threatened, inching closer to the other survivor with a devious smirk on his face.

“Oh no, you will not.”

“Yes I will!”

“If you touch my mask, I’ll make you regret it,” Aesop growled, putting a hand to his mask defensively.

Luca snorted, unconvinced by the embalmer’s threat. “Ah yes, I’m so scared.” His wings fanned out behind him in a mocking display.

The two vampires stared at each other for a moment, with Luca looking as smug as ever and Aesop looking completely irritated.

“Seriously, don’t touch it. Please.”

Luca snickered, his wings folding against his back once more. “Alright fine. I won’t touch it... At least, for now.”

Aesop sighed, silently cursing himself for the millionth time that day for turning the other survivor. Luca smiled, enjoying the small victory he’d gained in the moment.

They were silent for a few minutes, before Aesop decided to speak again.

“Oh, and uhh... Just one thing.” He paused. “Just wanna make sure you know... You are still going to have to take blood.”

Luca scowled. “And if I refuse?”

“You’ll starve, you’ll go feral, and you’ll attack someone,” Aesop responded, his expression serious. “It’s why I attacked you. It was because I was starving.”

Luca fell quiet for a moment. “Then why didn’t you eat before that?”

“...Like I said, cryptid blood doesn’t work.” The embalmer averted his gaze. “...I didn’t really have any other options... I had meant to just take what I needed from you and get out of there, but... Things got out of hand.”

Luca didn’t seem to be entirely satisfied with the answer he got, but he didn’t push the subject further. “I guess that kinda makes sense...”

There was a moment of awkward silence.

“...You okay?” Aesop finally asked, looking over at Luca.

“You mean besides spontaneously growing wings out of my back, getting the sudden urge to suck out my sister’s blood, and then being forced to feed on a rabbit man to try to satisfy that same bloodlust? Yeah, life is just fucking wonderful right now,” Luca replied, though his tone was slightly less salty than it had been previously.

“Sorry I asked...” Aesop grumbled, slightly irritated that the other vampire wasn’t letting go of his grudge.

Silence.

“Soo... If Tracy and Helena are the only two humans here... Where the hell do you get blood now??”

Aesop laughed sarcastically in response, throwing his hands up in the air dramatically. “No idea!”

Luca narrowed his eyes, slightly annoyed.

Aesop noticed his glare and shook his head, sighing. “There’s probably someone else. I just gotta go around and check.”

Luca’s expression turned to one of utter disbelief.

“What?”

“You don’t know?!” Luca exclaimed, surprised that Aesop wasn’t more well-organized with this whole ordeal, considering how he was about literally everything else.

The silver-haired vampire glared at the other survivor. “If I had known of someone else, I wouldn’t have gotten this screwed over.” He thought for a moment. “...Worst case, you can always take a little from Tracy while I figure it out, but I have a feeling you’re going to get mad at me for suggesting it.”

He paused, his gaze and voice softening a bit when he spoke again. “She’ll probably let you if you ask.”

Luca sighed, his wings drooping a bit. “I really don’t wanna take from her... But I know she’s probably gonna suggest it herself...”

“Don’t worry, you won’t hurt her. She might be a little bit tired for some time after, but it’s nothing rest can’t solve.”

Luca was quiet, thinking for the first time since the conversation had started. Aesop watched him for a moment before looking away, his gaze shifting to the night sky outside the garden window.

“So... When are you gonna have to get more blood? I’d rather you not get that hungry again,” Luca asked, though he still didn’t look the other survivor in the eyes.

“It’ll be around a month. Hopefully I can find someone before then,” Aesop answered, though there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “If I don’t... I’ll just be really off until I figure something out.

“I hope ya do. I’d rather you not do anything to my sister, and I don’t think anyone wants to find out what would happen if you messed with Helena.”

“Usually, when I go feral, I end up going after someone who won’t change anything. You’re not really in your right mind to figure that out. You know that,” Aesop pointed out.

The embalmer really wasn’t entirely sure on anything he had suggested. He didn’t know how Tracy could be affected by any sort of blood-taking for an extended period of time, and he didn’t know for a fact that there even were any other humans in the manor to feed off of.

He just had to act like he knew what he was doing, and hope that Luca believed him. He could figure it out later.

Luckily, the other vampire seemed to understand, and he nodded solemnly. “I guess you’re right...”

Aesop was quiet for a moment. “Trust me, it’s not all that bad. You’ll get used to it.”

Luca shrugged. “Yeah...”

The two vampires avoided eye contact, sitting in silence for a few moments long before Aesop finally stood up. “Well... I’m going to sleep now.” He glanced at the other survivor. “You should... probably get some rest too.”

Luca sighed. “Yeah... I think I’m gonna sit out here for awhile. Try to get my head on straight.”

“Makes sense.” Aesop paused. “I’ll... See you tomorrow at some point? I mean, it’s kinda impossible to avoid you around here.” He chuckled, though he didn’t meet Luca’s gaze.

Luca said nothing, but simply nodded in agreement.

Without another word, Aesop left, leaving Luca alone once more to reflect on all that had happened that day.

[sunflowerhazzavol6]

Pacific Coast

A/N- This is probably the first time I’ve sat down and written an entire piece in one afternoon and I actually really enjoyed writing this one, so I hope you all love it as much as I do! I’ll probably start getting to your requests tomorrow, but please feel free to put one in if you haven’t already! I’m excited about what I’ve seen in there so far and I can’t wait to get to writing.

Y/N is with her sister in Malibu, CA to grieve their father and to continue a tradition that he had carried on from their childhood. While there, she meets a familiar stranger and finds herself to be more confident and comfortable with him than with anyone else before him. 3,500 words of pretty much pure fluff with a Jamaica-esque Harry :) Marijuana usage and cursing.

She knew it was the right decision as soon as she let herself relax in the driver's seat, her hand nonchalantly placed out the window as the air blew through her fingers. She had forgotten how beautiful and familiar the Pacific Coast Highway was. Her father had taken her down here a few times during her childhood to relive his younger days as a beach bum surfer, and she treasured those memories more than anything else. Now she was older and understood the pull; Malibu made it easy to escape your boring, corporate life and fall into the easygoing nature of the tide.

Her sister sighed dreamily as she rested her head on her hand, her elbow propped in the window. “Dad would love this. His two girls, off on an adventure.”

“Sure he would. Which is exactly the reason mom would hate it.” Y/n smiles over at her, propping a joint between her lips and leaning into her sister’s hand as she lights it.

“Mom would hate this more than anything else.” Elise was two years younger than her but probably one of the most level-headed mature people she knew. Y/n would never say it out loud, but she felt incredibly lucky to be related to her best friend.

“Hate what? The weed?” She sucks in a drag, relaxing back into the seat as she blows it out and passes it back to her sister.

“Well, yeah. That and the irresponsible spending of money.”

Y/n lets out a syllable of a laugh, the last few traces of smoke escaping her lips. “Fuck it. We’re young. And if all goes to plan, we won’t be spending any of our own money on drinks, which is the biggest expense of all.”

Elise rolls her eyes but smiles, ashing the joint out the window. “So what's first on the agenda? Sunset surf?”

“Not tonight. We need to wax the boards later, though, so that we can tomorrow.” She exits the highway, following the familiar road to their favorite beach spot. The sisters pass the joint back and forth until it’s nothing but a roach, stamping it out in the empty Altoids box in the center console. Y/n can feel herself start to get giggly, the marijuana working its way through her system to relax every muscle in her body. When she looks over at her sister she sees the same thing mirrored back at her, squinty eyes with crows feet in the corners from the pure bliss.

By the time they find a parking spot she immediately jumps out of the car, running to the sand with a happy yell. It's warm from the SoCal sun, and she sighs at the familiarity of it between her toes. “ ‘Lise, grab the blanket!” She calls over her shoulder, reaching down to feel it run through her fingers. Coming to the beach always felt just as warm in her insides as it did on the outside. She could feel her father here, hear his laugh. If she closed her eyes she could feel his hand ruffle her hair, saying, “come on pumpkin, get in the water. Can you smell the salt?”

Her feet carry her forward before she has time to think about where she’s going, magnetized towards the foamy surf. If she could just feel the bubbles around her ankles, then maybe he would make an appearance, he would be right-

“Oi!” She collides with something solid and wet, and she gasps before opening her eyes. “Watch where you’re going!” A strong hand reaches out to steady her by her shoulder, and then she feels it shake with laughter. “Ah, right.”

“Fuck, sorry.” She takes a step back, blushing. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Or you’re stoned.” He secures his board under his arm and then runs his hand through his dark brown hair, dotted with the light grains of sand.

“Er, yeah. Sorry.” She turns an even brighter red, and prays to dear god that he would just think it was a sunburn.

“No need to apologize for being high. You and every other person here. Just maybe get some eye drops if you want to be inconspicuous.” He lets out a deep but raspy laugh, holding out his hand. “Harry.”

She grasps it in hers, giving it a firm shake. Something about him was familiar, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. “Y/n.”

“Right. Y/n. You from around here?”

“Uh, no. I drove here with my sister from Oregon. Our dad used to bring us here in the summers and he just…” She trails off, biting her lip. “Anyways, we’re here for a long weekend to surf and get away from our lives back at home.”

“Malibu is the place to go for escaping.” He sets the end of his board down in the sand, leaning against it. She can see the stretch of his brown skin across his abdominal muscles as he does so, her eyes following the tattooed ferns on his v-line to where it disappears into his dark wetsuit, the arm sleeves tied around his waist to obstruct her view of anything else. She clears her throat and stands up straighter, hoping that the stare only felt drawn out because of her state of mind.

“Is that why you’re here?”

Harry smiles at the boldness of her question, dimples indenting into his cheeks. “Precisely why I’m here. Much harder to feel the pressures of life when your only responsibility is to make sure you don’t drown.”

“That's a funny way to look at it.”

“Is it?”

“Pretty existential if you ask me.”

He laughs again, his smile going lopsided. “Well, y/n, I guess I’ll leave you to your stoned reflections. See you around?”

“I think you’re in control of whether or not you see me around.”

His grin goes even wider at her forwardness, and she seems shocked at it herself. “I suppose you’re right.” He nods to the boardwalk some ways away. “I’ll be at Rusty’s tonight. Come by and I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Hmm. Then I guess I’ll see you around.” She crosses her arms over her chest.

“I guess you will. Nice meeting you, y/n.”

“Nice meeting you, Harry.” He shakes his head with a laugh and then nods to someone behind her before jogging away with his surfboard under his arm. Suddenly her sister is next to her, giggling.

“That didn’t take you very long at all. I’ve never seen you flirt like that in my life.”

“My god. Is my heart still beating?” She yanks her sister’s hand and pushes her two fingers against where she thought her pulse should be. “Can you feel anything?”

“Very strong. Very fast.” She laughs, looking over her shoulder at his retreating figure. “Jesus. Look at that ass, too. Did you see his tattoos?”

“Did I see his tattoos? I was practically drooling over them.” She stands on her toes to look beyond her sister. Harry is talking to a small group of girls, all of whom seem to be overly ecstatic about the handsome man in front of them. Y/n gets the sense of knowing him again before shaking it off. “You’re sure my heart is still working?”

“Positive. What did he say?”

“I think he asked me out.”

“He did what?!” Elise drops the blanket in her arms onto the sand, grabbing y/n’s shoulders. “What exactly did he say?”

“He said he’d see me around, so I said that that was up to him, and then he said he’d be at some place called Rusty’s.”

“Y/n!” She shakes her older sister aggressively with a laugh. “He totally asked you out! Or actually, you asked him.”

“I did? Fuck, how much did I smoke?” She puts a hand on her forehead with a groan, but starts laughing immediately after. “I never would have done that if dad was here.”

“No, you definitely wouldn’t. Now let's get some sun, you beach slut. Calm you down a little bit before you jump someone’s bones.”

The sky is a dark hazy orange when she stands at the entrance of Rusty’s, chewing on her lower lip nervously. Her sister had insisted on the white crop top with the straight neckline, talking about how she had incredible collarbones and needed to show them off. Y/n had never considered the sex appeal of collar bones, but trusted Elise to know what suited her. She had paired it with high-waisted jeans that she had thrifted a year ago. They were her favorite pair- worn perfectly to fit the comfort she required with her clothing while also shaping each curve of her body. If she had her own pair of magical traveling pants, these were it, and her sister had agreed that they were the right choice if she wanted to seem nonchalant in her desire to get laid. Not that that was the goal. Although it would be nice to-

Her thoughts are interrupted again by Harry, though this time he's dressed in a mostly-unbuttoned blue floral shirt and yellow swimming shorts. Two sparrows on his pectoral muscles peak from behind the fabric, and she ignores the feeling in the pit of her stomach about what else the shirt was hiding. “Y/n. It seems like daydreaming isn’t just a stoned thing for you, eh?”

“Apparently not.” She reaches up to play with the gold chain of her necklace, a small garnet hanging from the end of it. “You know, most people wear more clothes when they’re on shore, not less.”

“Is that so? I wasn’t aware you had a particular dress code in mind for me to follow.” He smiles at her teasingly, crossing his arms over his chest. His biceps bulge at the contact but she pays them no mind, focusing instead on his eyes. What before had seemed like a sea-glass green were now more of a murky color, brooding and mysterious.

“I don’t. Just an observation.”

“Ah. Maybe you should tell me more of your many observations inside, yeah?”

“Shouldn’t you be so lucky.” She remarks with a smile. He laughs and follows her inside the bar, pressing a warm hand to the exposed skin of her back as he guides her through the crowd of people. She shudders at the contact, allowing him to bring her to the bar. She doesn’t even hear what he orders for them, soaking up the scene. It seemed busy for a Thursday night, most of the patrons either young people around their age or retired locals.  She had been here before, but hadn’t remembered it after so many years. She cranes her neck until her eyes find the booth that she had inhabited. For a second she thinks she can see the familiar sandy blonde hair of her dad, but as soon as she does it’s gone.

“I hope you like beer.” Harry holds up two full pints, both foaming at the top above the amber liquid. “They’re known for their drafts.”

“I love beer. But how do you even know if I’m 21?”

Harry raises his eyebrows and his eyes go wide. “Are you not?”

“I’m 22. But you didn’t know that. What if you were supplying alcohol to a minor?”

He shrugs. “Drinking laws in America are dumb as it is. But this would have been a very short date.”

She smiles, taking one of the pints from his hand. “A man of morals, I see.”

“A man with seemingly skewed morals.” He looks over her head and then back down to her face. “Want to go sit on the patio? The sun hasn’t quite set yet and I want to see if it flashes green tonight.” She nods, and again his palm finds its way to her back as he lets her lead them to a table at the edge with an unobstructed view of the skyline. He clears his throat and she laughs when he pulls her chair out for her.

“What an English gentleman.” She says as she sits, setting her beer down on the table.

“I’m nothing if not a gentleman.” He boasts, but his dimples allude to his teasing.

“My dad used to look for the green flash too. Mom used to lecture him endlessly for ruining his eyesight, but no matter what we were doing or where we were in Malibu, he would find his way to some cliff or beach to watch the sun set.”

“Used to?”

Y/n looks down, brushing her finger up the side of her glass to gather the condensation in distraction. “Uh, yeah. He died a few months ago. Cancer.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Harry puts a hand over her hand on the table, and their eyes meet. Usually when people apologized for her loss, they were sympathetic but otherwise empty. Harry’s were genuine, empathetic even. “I lost my step-dad a while back. It fucking sucks.”

She laughs a bit at his bluntness. “It does. There's really no other way to describe it. Because it affects everyone at some point, right? And it’s no one's fault. It just... fucking sucks.”

“So that’s why you’re here then? You mentioned earlier that he brought you here in the summer.”

She smiles at his memory. “Yeah. My sister and I didn’t want to halt tradition just because he couldn’t be here. Even as adults he insisted that we come along with, so it kind of just became something that we expected to do every summer for the rest of our lives. I don’t know. I guess we didn’t want to stop just because he was gone. If anything he’d want us to continue to enjoy the place he loved so much.”

“I like that. That you didn’t even really have to think about it.” He holds up his glass. “Well in that case, to your dad. May Malibu always be a place for him to be with you.”

Y/n feels tears sting her eyes as she holds up her own glass to clink against his. “To dad.”

She watches as Harry takes a swig of his beer while she mirrors him. Immediately he jumps into conversation, sensing her need for distraction while she reflects. He talks a bit of nonsense about how the surfing was that day, watching her face to read into where her head was at. He was always good at that, and could sense even the slightest change in someone's demeanor. Y/n seemed like the type to wear her heart on her sleeve, and seemed emotionally intelligent enough to the point where she would deal with her emotions when she felt them rather than pushing them to the side. When the clouds in her eyes seem to disappear he slides to sit beside her rather than across from her, casually slinging his arm over the back of her chair. “Look. Sun is setting. You know, I’ve been told that if you can see the flash, you get a wish.”

“Is that so?” She subconsciously leans into him, watching the skyline. The rest of the bar seems to settle into a gentle hum as everyone cranes to see the sun.

“Definitely.” He drops his hand to her arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth. She bites her lip at the contact, looking up at him. His features, while chiseled and structured, were equally as soft and kind. She could sense that in the future he would sport crows feet at the corner of his eyes while others would harbor insecurity over the frown lines in their forehead. Her eyes followed the slope of his nose down to his shell-pink lips, and then jumped back up just in time to see the bright green reflecting in his eyes. As soon as it’s there it’s gone, and his pupils dilate when they meet hers. “Did you see the-”

Now it’s her turn to cut him off, her lips pressing to his. His eyes widen in surprise before drifting shut, his lips softening to invite hers in more. He didn’t need to ask her to know what her wish was, and found himself drawing her closer, needing more, more, more. He had never felt a kiss like this before, one filled equally with passion and softness. He could feel the air of self-consciousness in her lips as she started to pull away, and just as quickly he brought her back in with the pull of his own lips, coaxing her into relaxation. When he finally does separate their lips she’s rendered speechless, glancing around. No one seems to have noticed, too busy discussing the phenomenon they just witnessed. Meanwhile she’s processing the phenomenon in her own head, eating away at the walls of her belly.

“Wow.” He breathes, scratching the back of his neck before looking around. When his eyes come back to hers he grins, the left side of his mouth quirked up higher than the right. “Wow.”

She clears her throat, taking a sip of her beer and raising her eyebrows at him over the glass. He laughs, and when she comes back up he kisses her again, gliding his tongue along her upper lip to collect the foam before pulling back into his own seat, the boyish smirk taking over his face. “Anyways.”

“Anyways.” She repeats.

“How was that?”

“I’ll consider giving a good Yelp review.”

He laughs and she can’t help but kiss him again. This makes him smile more, and he leans back into a stretch as she pulls away, clearly pleased with himself. “Well that concludes your tour of Malibu nightlife, anything beyond that is going to cost you a pretty penny. I suppose I could cut you a discount, since you’re grieving and all…” He trails off when she smacks him, and he grabs her wrist while he laughs. “If you’re going to be throwing yourself at me like that, at least buy me dinner first.”

“God, you’re relentless!” Her cheeks are a bright red now, and he slides his hand so their fingers are intertwined.

“Seriously, you want some food? They’ve got some mean burgers here. I won’t make you pay though. Although I do expect more of whatever that was afterwards.”

“Harry.” She hisses through her teeth. “God, I’m never kissing anyone off of a whim again.”

“I sure hope not. I liked that being just for me.” He waves at a waitress, who seems to know him. She mouths the word ‘burger?’ and he holds up two fingers. She nods before walking away.

“Do you always come here and kiss strange girls?” Y/n asks, laughing.

“No. You’d be the first. Usually I drown here in my loneliness and drink until the pain ebs away.” He takes a sip of his beer. “Not actually. But I do come here enough that they know my order it seems.”

“Interesting.” She smiles into her glass as she finishes off the beer.

“Wow. I’m going to have to keep up with you.” He finishes his own, before taking his sunglasses out of his hair and ruffling it.

“So, Harry, what do you do?”

“Hmm? Oh. I’m a musician.”

“You are?” She perks up a bit, folding her arms on the table in front of her. “What kind of music?”

“Any, really. Lots of rock influences, but I mainly just play whatever feels right.”

“Anything I would know?”

He smiles and she’s immediately frustrated by his coyness. “Harry.”

“What?” He grins even wider, playing with the napkin dispenser.

Suddenly it hits her like a truck. Her own familiarity with him, the girls on the beach. “Styles. You’re Harry Styles.”

He hums as a confirmation, running a hand through his hair. “So about that Yelp review…”

She can’t help but laugh, shaking her head and burying her face in her arms with a groan.

“What’s that about?” He snorts.

“I just threw myself on a world renowned rock star.”

“I licked beer off of your lip.” He points out, leaning down to rest his chin on his arms in front of her.

“Only because I suffocated you with my misplaced hormones.” She peeks out from her forearms, and he can see the blush on the tips of her cheeks.

“Misplaced? Hardly. You only jump started what I would have done later. Though I would have done it consensually, mind you.” He sits up straight while she groans and buries her face back into her arms. “Y/n, I’m teasing.” He laughs. She holds up her middle finger and he grabs her hand, kissing her knuckles. His voice drops to a hushed whisper. “Y/n, if I didn’t want to kiss you I wouldn’t have. Can you please come out of hiding now?”

She slowly sits back up, glaring at him. “You could have told me who you really were before I threw myself at you.”

“I kind of like that you agreed to go out with me without knowing.”

“So we’re inflating your ego now, are we? That’s at least one star deducted.”

He grins at the return of her playfulness. “What a shame. I suppose I’ll have to earn it back, hm?” He leans into her.

“I suppose you will.”