#and now you tell me teens are doing the same thing but with alcohol?

[anatomically-binding]

I just learned what a Borg is and I feel like the next generation has evolved past the milk jug challenge and are super human.

[chlorinecake]

A SUCKER FOR THE TASTE ✦— 𝐋.𝐇𝐒

▹ PAIRING — experienced husband heeseung x virgin f. reader

▹ GENRE — smut, fluff, newlyweds au

▹ SYNOPSIS — As teens, you were the uncanny duo that fell in love at first sight. Some odd years later, and you’re now a newlywed couple, spending your first night together in a fit of nerves as you navigate sex and other new feelings…

▹ WARNINGS — KINKTOBER SPECIAL, basically just pussy drunk!husband!heeseung making you squirt for hours on the night of your honeymoon, marriage themes (duh), mentions of food, dom and sub dynamics, kissing with tongue, overstimulation kink (reader cums multiple times), oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, petnames (baby, angel, pretty, sweetie), that’s all

▹ WORD COUNT: 3.3k — DAY 1

YOU AND HEESEUNG were like Romeo and Juliet; two people from totally different walks of life, and honestly, no one ever would’ve guessed you two’d end up falling for each other.

Sometimes, it’s hard to tell any time had passed between the first moment you met Heeseung with a hickey on his neck in the lunch hall to now as you sit before him on a king sized bed, ring fingers clad with beautiful bands to match as you stared into each others eyes, speaking a love song of unspoken words.

“You’re fine with waiting til marriage?” You remember asking him a few weeks after you first started dating as teens, “you won’t think I’m a prude for wanting to keep things traditional?…”

“Of course not, sweetie,” you remember him answering while cupping your face in his hands, “a girl like you is worth the wait—” He whispered in between kissing your lips, “—and so much more…”

Since that moment, you and Heeseung have stuck to your guns, not even so much as showering together to keep your purity intact until the right moment…

… That fateful day when you’d say “I do” and he the same, right before venturing off into the sunset on angel’s wings to explore another country together.

Another life, might I add, as a married couple on your extravagant honeymoon…

Everything was so magical in your head, too… but regardless of that, Heeseung was too big of a fucking dork to let himself be romantic for once.

Just an hour ago, he had told the hotel receptionist “you too” after she congratulated you both on getting married—

“Grrrrrrrrr,” he pouted, scrunching his nose at you.

“Did you just… growl at me!?”

“Yes, and I’ll do it again if you keep resisting,” Heeseung threatened playfully, pointing an accusing finger at your frame now.

Sighing, you raised your hands beside your head as a sign of compliance, parting your lips slightly as you held your head back for him.

“Alright, don't move this time, alright? We can do this!” He ordered more passionately this time, cradling a single grape between his fingers before angling his wrist backwards and launching it towards your mouth.

“Oh my gosh, I finally caught it!” You shouted with excitement, words coming out a bit slurred as you bit down into the sweet fruit, “Tastes like victory,” you continued, making Heeseung grace you with his thundering ovation.

“Brava!” He began to cheer, but the rest of his sentence was interrupted by his own burp, which only elicited a fit of embarrassed giggles from the both of you…

Two empty glasses of wine sat on the hotel nightstand beside the bed you were currently sat on, and if it wasn't obvious enough, y'all were already starting to experience the giddy effects of the alcohol dancing in your systems.

“So,” you smiled, a laugh still present in your throat as you fed him a white grape from the bowl between you two, “we're the couple that eats pie in place of dinner now?”

“Sure... but not just any pie,” Heeseung corrected, leaning closer to your ear as he whispered, “blueeeberry pieeee.”

You're not sure if it was the wine or the honeymoon high, but you can't help yourself from laughing out loud at Heeseung's behavior in this moment—

“You’re a legend for always vibing with my horrible sense of humor, y’know that?” Your husband remarked while tilting his head at you endearingly.

“Your humor is definitely one-of-a-kind, but I wouldn't want you to change a thing about it,” you returned tenderly, right before feeding him a fork-full of blueberry pie from the dish between you two, feeling your heart swell as he smiled into the bite.

The kind of smile you’d have a hard time getting out of your mind later—

“Thanks, babe,” he said, a bit of dark blue jam resting in the corner of his mouth now as his eyes sparkled with what you could bet was pure flattery.

You always liked it whenever you managed to get Heeseung all flustered before you, considering how he was usually the one to make you a blushing mess with only his words.

“You've uh...” you stammer slightly, “you've got a little something on your lip there...”

“Really?”

“Yea, just... let me get it for you real quick,” you continue, licking the pad of your thumb before leaning forward to dab at the jam on his mouth.

That's when you noticed his lips curving into a subtle smirk as he whispered in a low voice, “You got it, baby?”

“Y-yea,” you stuttered again, feeling your face heat up at his words, and if you didn't look so hot to him right now, he would've pinched your cheeks—

“Whoops,” Heeseung gasped facetiously, pouting at the streak of blueberry jam he very intentionally just smeared on your lower lip, “must be the wine making me so clumsy today...”

Your eye almost twitched at the sight of him licking his finger clean, a rush of nerves swarming in your stomach now

“I-it's okay, Heeseung,” you said while lifting your thumb to your mouth, “I've got it...”

“No you don't,” he chuckled at your shy demeanor, right before closing the space between you two, taking your face in his hand and kissing you.

And yes, you saw this coming, but it took you a few seconds to fully close your eyes, letting them flutter shut as you both sighed at the taste of each other, almost as if the contact relaxed you…

The kiss was slow at first, with you and him simply breathing against each other’s mouths as his velvety lips moved against yours.

But that pace didn't last long once Heeseung broke from the kiss to move the bowl of grapes and pie out of the way, a few of the glossy green ovals hitting the ground with light thuds as his right hand found the small of your back, pulling you even closer to him.

The kiss grew more intense from there as both your heads were tilting into each other, wet smacks filling the room now as his tongue prodded against yours with every passing second.

“God, you taste so sweet,” Heeseung groaned, desperately clinging to your waist which only made you moan in response.

You and Heeseung had made out countless times in the past, but you could tell something was different this time... you never felt this worked up with him before, and you knew it wasn’t just gonna end with a kiss—

“Can’t wait to taste other parts of you, too, baby…” he hummed, kissing along your neck while pinning your delicate wrists above your head.

And that’s when you felt it…

The twitch between your legs and the heat rushing throughout your entire body…

You were wearing a plaid pajama skirt and white top that matched Heeseung’s plaid sweatpants and long sleeved shirt, as you simply expected to only eat some dessert, discuss the rest of your honeymoon plans, and head straight to sleep right after.

Now though, you knew you wouldn't be able to get much rest with your emotions like this… at least not comfortably, that is…

You’re between his lap at first until he guides you onto your back, kissing down your neck, between your breasts, and down your stomach as he lifts your top, stopping at the waist band of your skirt given the way your body tensed up suddenly.

“Is everything alright?” He asked softly, glancing back up at you with a swollen look to his pouty lips, given all the kissing they had just done.

You knew what was happening right now..

Heeseung was doing exactly what you had asked him to do, and as much as your body craved it, your mind kept fighting it for some reason…

FLASHBACK —

“Just… don’t make it too… formal, okay?”

“Formal?” Heeseung repeated with a slight chuckle as you sat beside each other on the plane that morning.

“Well, yea… I just don’t want to make a big deal out of it—”

“But it is a big deal, baby,” he cut you off by placing his hand over yours. “We’ve been waiting a long time for this, y’know?… Not just to have sex but—” he leaned closer to you as he whispered this in your ear, “—to make each other feel good… in all kinds of ways…”

His breath tickled your ear in that moment… similarly to how his lips were tickling you now as you laid before him on the mattress, his head hovering over the space between your thighs.

“We don’t have to go any further until you’re ready, love—”

“I’m ready, Heeseung,” you said while nodding, but he waited to continue, knowing in his heart that there was still something you needed to get off your chest.

He backed away, pulling your shirt back over your stomach and sitting on the bed normally now.

“Heeseung,” you said again, drawing his sparkly doe eyes back to you.

“I’m listening, love,” is all he replied with, offering you a warm smile, “what’s on your mind?”

What’s in the way? You internally asked yourself right after, knowing deep down that you had no reason to feel so nervous with him right now…

Heeseung had never alienated you because of your inexperience with sex before, and was always very understanding of your moral and sexual boundaries.

But now, things were different; you were a married couple, and one of the many perks of that was being able to explore each others body in a comfortable way…

Turns out though, it was all just your own insecurities clouding your judgment, and you hated that you couldn’t shake the nerves bubbling in your stomach…

“It’s just that,” you started nervously, fidgeting with your manicured nails, “I… I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Yeah, I know,” your husband nodded sarcastically, trying his best to resist the urge to kiss you again—

“And…well, you have a lot more experience than me with this kind of thing,” you continued, lowering your head.

“So what?”

“What if I don’t meet your expectations?…”

“Expectations? What do you mean, ____?”

“Well, you’ve been with a lot of other girls and what if I’m not as good as them? What if you don’t like sex with me?…”

Heeseung’s heart would’ve otherwise dropped at your words, but instead, he smiled softly, taking your chin in his hand and lifting your head towards him. “You’re nothing like those girls I was with in the past, ____, and that’s my favorite part about you,”

You looked into his eyes as he continued, “I’ll be happy with whatever happens tonight. You wanna know why? Because I did it with you, and I love you with my everything, princess…”

“I love you too, Heeseung,” you replied meekly, flashing him a soft smile as he kissed your cheek.

“No expectations tonight, then… okay, baby? I just wanna please you,” he whispered, slowly guiding your body back down against the mattress with a secure hand. “I wanna make you feel so good,” he continued, placing another kiss to the center of your lips. 

Heeseung started by letting his plush lips wander all over your body again, lifting your shirt up once more to leave open-mouthed kisses all over your stomach.

“You're so beautiful,” he murmured with warm breath against your skin, caressing your inner thighs with his hands until you naturally craned them open, inviting him to your pulsing core.

Your breath hitched once you felt his nose burry between your clothed folds, but your little sounds only excited him even further, and he wasted no time in removing your panties completely now.

“Heeseung,” you whined, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he spat on your cunt, toying with the moisture there using his middle and index finger.

“Just relax for me, angel,” your husband cooed with a soothing tone, and you're not sure if it was the alcohol or the petname he just called you in his bedroom voice, but your head was starting to feel very dizzy.

And if you weren't so horny, you would've felt bashful in front of him like this... half-naked, and trembling when he's hardly even touched you yet.

The coldness of his wedding band against the warm flesh of your thigh sent shivers down your spine, and he wasted no time in inviting his fingers into your sopping hole, one at a time until your walls practically sucked him in.

He then started to leave kitten licks against your sensitive bud, complimenting the pace by pumping his wrist towards your pelvis with his digits still exploring the gummy walls of your cunt.

Admittedly, you had tried fingering yourself in the past, but it never felt as good as the way Heeseung worked wonders inside you right now, but you still needed something...

Something to hold onto… something to grab, and Heeseung could immediately tell once your nails started weakly nipping at the bed sheets, your pussy throbbing more and more—

“Hee,” you moaned, feeling his fingers curl deeper and deeper inside your tight cunt, “need to touch you so bad...”

“Yea? Wanna hold my hand, pretty?”

All you can manage to do is nod desperately, making him chuckle slightly at your neediness.

“If you hold my hands, I need you to promise to keep your legs open for me on your own... can you do that for me, love?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered, and with that, Heeseung got to work on licking your slick from his fingers before finding your hands in his.

But your core was already missing the stimulation, making your hips rise up and down as if thin air would provide enough friction to ease your craving.

And that's when he licked his first stripe up the center of your pussy, and you're sure your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the sensation.

It didn't take long for the pleasure to escalate from there, either.

His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked you in like a starved out man. His tongue was applying pressure in all the best ways before sinking into your hole, filling you up just enough to have you arching your back on the bed.

You felt your first orgasm wash over you, but you knew your husband had no intention of stopping so soon.

You were mewling beneath him at the overstimulation, thankful that he at least slowed down the pace of his tongue, even though he was still very earnestly slurping at your juices…

“Could eat this pussy for hours, princess… you’re just too delicious…” he groaned, and you felt the bed shaking from the way he was rutting his crotch against the mattress, furrowing his eyebrows as his kept eating you out.

“Come on baby, let me hear you,” Heeseung practically begged, his tone sounding so hoarse, so drunk as the vibrations from his voice only tantalized you even further, “tell me how good it feels...”

“F-feels s-so fucking good, baby,” you moaned, words coming out in fragments given how cloudy your brain was becoming, and you're pretty sure you had your second or third orgasm shortly after as your hands squeezed his, so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

His tongue was licking between your folds so well, the textured muscle making your skin tingle all over but in the best way imaginable.

Heeseung didn't plan on any of this to happening, which is why it felt so good in the first place. It was natural, raw, and so so messy…

Your own cum was dripping all over his chin and lips, and he was loving every single second of it.

He was obsessed with it. The way your clit throbbed against his lips, the way you squirted your juices all over his face, the way your thighs squirmed while struggling to stay open, and your angelically desperate cries of pleasure as he drew out orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.

He wished he could watch your face contort with need as he fucked you with his face and tongue, but he couldn't look back up at you no matter how hard he tried… He had to keep his face buried between you…

Your strength eventually gave out and your grip released his hands that soon found one of your tits, gripping the mound of flesh in a way that only drew you even further over the edge.

Your hips had even developed a mind of their own, humping against his face like a bunny in heat as he whispered filthy nothings against your cunt, as well as sweet somethings that you'd hear for the next hour or two that Heesueng spent with his pointy nose brushing against your clit.

“You're so fucking wet for me, angel...”

“Love it when you come all over my face.”

“Pull my hair, baby... harder than that...”

“So so beautiful, and just for me.”

“Keep those pretty thighs open just like that, baby…”

“You taste so fucking divine...”

“Please don't tell me to stop... just one more, baby... I know you've got it in you...”

He found just as much enjoyment being between your thighs as you did in having him there, making you cream on his tongue again and again until you finally hiccuped the words, “N-no more, Hee... p-please, I can't t-take anymore...”

But your begging only made Heeseung even greedier, letting his fingers find your clit where he applied enough pressure and stimulation to break that last orgasm out of you, leaving you a shaking mess as he kissed you down, harder than a bullet in his own pants from getting to see you like this so many times and for so long in just one evening.

A series of shaky whimpers filled the room now as your husband crawled back over you, kissing you with his swollen lips while caressing the side of your fucked-out face. “You did so good for me, baby... especially on your first night...”

“Th-thank you,” you said with a weak chuckle, still feeling your orgasms fresh in your hips and thighs as he kept soothing you with his touch, your breath shaky in your chest after hours of coming undone with him…

That's when he moved over to lay beside you, and your eyes almost immediately caught sight of the thick bulge resting behind his pants, and you couldn't help but feel a little bad now given how he didn’t get much action the whole time.

“Do you want me to...” you started timidly, moving your hand to touch him up til he stopped you.

“Not tonight... we can have fun with that tomorrow,” Heeseung smiled, making you giggle again as he changed his position to make the bulge less noticeable, “for now though, let's focus on getting you cleaned up... sound good?”

“Better than good,” you replied tenderly, kissing him on the cheek before he got up from the bed and headed toward the hotel bathroom where he planned to run you a nice warm bath.

“Wait!” Your husband called out suddenly, just as he caught you trying to get out of the bed on your own.

Running over, a confused look remained on your face as he picked you up from the mattress bridal style, carrying you to the bathroom.

“I didn't forget how to walk, Heeseung,” you giggled, keeping your hands secure at his shoulder as he cradled you into the tub.

“I know,” he laughed, helping you get your top off and over your head as the water ran in the background, “I just didn't want my precious wife accidentally stepping on any of those grapes I dropped earlier...”

It went without saying that Heeseung had always been a loser, but he was your loser, and that fact alone was the bandaid that covered up every preconceived notion of him you ever created in the back of your mind…

You didn’t see him the way other people saw him… as the former man whore, troublemaker, or hopeless goof from high school, ‘destined’ to never change…

You saw him as the adorable nerd who accepted you for the things you saw as flaws… as the guy who still wore character themed PJ’s every once in a while that you now get to call “Hubby,” “lovey,” and “mine…”

⋆♱✮ Huge thanks to everyone who read this little fic of mine, which actually concludes DAY 1 of my Kinktober Event !! If you're interested in reading more works like this, feel free to check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist by clicking one of these links !!

⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:

@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash

@yourmomscuntis2tighy, @wonbinisbabygurl

@watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr

⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:

@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs

@mheretoreadff @skzfelixlove @inishij

@yaorzu-blog @andromedawillburyyou @ramyeonzprincess

@zaihypen @simjaeyunns @gardenwonnies @hynier

@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings

[fumifooms]

Chilchuck’s wife and family - Facts, theories and headcanons

I want to keep this as a sort of masterpost on Chil’s family situation if I can, but if we get a lot of information on it (in the additional content that Kui is gonna make) that renders this more or less useless I probably won’t update this anymore. If you find other crumbs of information or I've said anything factually incorrect please do tell me! I'm planning to edit this as we go since I want to compile most if not all of the information and pages we get about this topic on here, and if I just wait to post it perfection paralysis will nip this in the bud. It focuses a lot on Chilchuck and Chilchuck's wife relationships, but the daughters and Chilchuck's own parents and siblings are talked about as well.

CW/disclaimer: This post talks about messy family dynamics and such, there’s no outright abuse I’m implying anywhere, but alcoholism and neglect are mentioned and discussed. I’m not here to demonize anyone! I love every character involved and I just want to theorize about the topic as a layered issue that involves complex characters. Also, I try to use very transparent language as to when I’m citing or analyzing canon information and when I’m giving a personal interpretation or headcanoning.

Abbreviated table of content:

Timeline and circumstances

Possible strains on the marriage

The hair question. Confirmation on what his wife looks like?

Other family dynamic & post-canon theories & headcanons

Parenting style + misc in a reblog addition (new)

Let’s start with the facts, shall we?

Timeline and circumstances

So, we see that Chilchuck and his wife are childhood friends, and they married at 13 years old and had two children in that same year. Since half-foots reach the age of maturity at 14, they seem to be what we'd call teen parents. It's a bit debatable though, since Laios says the age of maturity for tallmen (humans) is 16 instead of 18 or even 21, so what's considered to be the age of maturity is a cultural thing and isn't fully reliable when we want to compare to our irl understanding and what developmental stage it perfectly aligns with. Also, during the succubus chapter Chichuck says that his daughters were all now of age to be independent, and Chilchuck's wife leaves to live with Flertom, which would mean that Puckpatti was independent at age 10 and lived away from home as well (since she's the third/last daughter). Ah yes another interesting thing to note is that we don’t know the pregnancy periods for the races, since Meijack and Flertom were born the same year. It could be tight timing or it could be something else, but I don’t think they’re twins, they keep talking about them being the oldest and the middle child, them being twins is definitely the sort of thing that would get mentioned.

Him starting working on the island notably happens just one year before his wife leaves him. I don't remember the other instances of him mentioning it though I feel like it happened, but since he started working at the Island's dungeon, working as a dungeon diver and then forming the half-foot guild, that probably means he started being away for longer periods of time and having a less reliable schedule on when he'd be coming back home. It is said that he went back home somewhat regularly iirc, though he usually ends up sleeping at the half-foot guild quarters. I'm not sure if Kahka Brud is also where he lived with his family, or just since he rented someplace new after she left him. He and his timeline state that he was born in a small village "northeast of the island", which he left at 14 one year after being married, but it isn’t stated where they go after so it’s unsure how far his home was from the island if it wasn’t in Kahka Brud. We don’t know when his father died so if that factors in to him leaving his village we have no clue.

Chil also says that he hasn’t seen or spoken with his wife nor daughters since the incident, which would mean he's gone 4 years without contact with his family during the events of canon. I don't remember if Chilchuck is said to exchange letters with his daughters, beyond the initial one from Flertom saying her mother was with her, so I've been assuming he hasn't.

He also says "For about ten years I’ve been travelling to dungeons in various areas and doing work" which considering he’s turning 29 that year would mean he started around 19 years old? The panel also gives details what sort of work he’s been doing. Either way it’s confirmed that Chilchuck travels for his work a lot.

In addition, since Chilchuck has the seal of approval of the bicorn + says so himself, he has always stayed faithful to his wife. So that means that unless he's had previous adventures before he was 14 and got married, he's never dated anyone else in his life, nor had romantic or sexual encounters/experiences with others in his 16 years of marriage right up to canon (year 514). I feel it’s safe to say that it’s implied that during all these years starting from when they were married, Chilchuck's wife was a housewife whose main job was taking care of the kids and the house.

Marcille's take on what happened is unreliable, as Kui even takes the time to directly say so in the Adventurer's Bible, so I don't want to use it as a baseline even if it offers some insight on what could have happened (her feeling out of place, leaving to test his love, etc etc).

What Chilchuck says seems to be accurate though since it pertains to his perspective of the events! Unlike how Marcille's theory flows, Chilchuck was aware that something was off before she left since she "suddenly fell into a bad mood".

Piecing everything together, my theory: Chilchuck and his wife were childhood friends and have always always sort of danced around of each other, the classic movie love story with childhood sweethearts, until they ultimately confessed and got together. While dating, Chilchuck's wife becomes pregnant and they're both unequiped to deal with the situation but decide to marry, either a bit forced in order to cover it up or hopeful to make the best of it. They make it work as they can and Chilchuck works to provide for the family while she takes care of the home and the kids, which means that even though he's not a deadbeat father (he cares, he was at least a bit involved in their lives and raising them since for example he knows how to braid hair after all) he ends up being rather absent from home. It only gets worse over the years, especially when Chilchuck starts working further and further away from home and coming home less often, and since Puckpatti left home Chilchuck's wife is alone at home most of the time, never knowing when Chilchuck would be coming and if to prepare the table for two instead of one, or even if he'd be coming back at all since his work is dangerous. The humdrum and lifestyle would get to her, they've grown into different people in these 10 years of marriage and she doesn't feel the spark or feels valued & seen anymore, so she leaves. He feels confused and betrayed which turns into anger so he doesn’t try to reach out and mend things, and with the way he says they’re estranged and he moves away I think he’s avoiding his family somewhat.

Possible strains on the marriage

Tfw all your daughters are independent and your husband is gone to work almost all the time and he barely even tells you that he loves you, is there even a reason to stay together anymore? Every day it’s just you and an empty house and chores to do, wondering if you have to cook for one or for two today.

Alright it’s analysis and theorizing time! Although there are more facts down in this post if you care about Chilchuck's wife's appearajce, Chilchuck's parents & siblings or the kids, the essential facts so to speak were all in the first part.

We don't see Chilchuck showing any discontent with his wife through the manga so I'm assuming that he was content in his marriage, happy with his wife, and with how he stayed faithful to her even in the 4 years after she left (and never stopped calling her his wife. Which also shows a weird stubborn attitude since he wasn’t planning on reaching out to her and mend things but I’ll put aside the possible entitlement/coping mechanism for another time) I think he truly loved her and still does. Since she left him and not the reverse, I'm putting a lot of emphasis on his wife's side of things. Especially since we do see how Chilchuck is at work quite a bit but never see how he is at home. I’ll be sounding harsh towards Chil on this but he’s pretty much the only party we can criticize since we don’t know her, I still side with Chil on the leaving issue though, he’s justifiably pissed if she left without a word what the hell even.

Alcoholism and health

Chilchuck’s favorite food as listed in the Adventurer’s Bible is beer, and it’s shown that he’s prone to drinking until drunk whenever he gets the opportunity to. A cheerful drunk is still a drunk. (Extra reading: if interested here's a oneshot FMA fanfic by a friend that goes in depth about this very topic that really illustrates what sort of family dynamic that can bring about. It’s not dunmeshi but it’s a good read.) Chilchuck is also canonically underweight, starving himself for a strict weight management diet (Extra reading: you can look at a short compilation post about that here). Did you know under eating makes one irritable? And this is on top of Chilchuck sometimes/regularly coming back home with "horrible injuries", since Marcille guesses it and he acts like she’s dead right on everything that far.

It’s rough seeing someone you love mistreat themselves, not being able to shake them out of that and having to stay to see them wasting away. It’s rough seeing them put their work above their own health. Putting their work even above their family. Putting alcohol over family time. It's not that simple, but there's always that element when asking someone you love to tone it down with things like alcohol or such, that if they refuse, then it feels like they value that thing more than they value your feelings or opinions. That they love alcohol more than they love you.

You know how there’s often this thing of "Well I’m providing everything for this family, so whatever else that I do you don’t get to complain." I do think that it’s something they’d have argued over a little bit, not that he’d say it that way, but the essence of it. "Chilchuck, you’re drinking a lot of alcohol often, I’m worried maybe you should ease up on it." "This is what I want to do in my free time, give me a break.", "Dear, your mood gets worse when you’re hungry, I really think you should stop dieting-" "Would you rather I die in a trap because I was too heavy?", "Honey I don’t like when you work so far away from home for so long" "Well what else can I do, do you have any better idea?". That sort of thing. Even if not being passive agressive or snappy, or even spoken upon, these situations can cause tension, or a feeling of powerlessness or imbalance in the relationship. Although I personally feel like they were both rather passive in their relationship (thus having little arguments), which itself can be a problem since yes they let each other live but they grew more distant and less communicative as a result, more on that later. Content and tolerating, rather than happy and fulfilled.

Workaholism and long distance

Spending a lot (or even a majority?) of time away from home for years and years obviously can strain relationships in many ways. Besides becoming more distant, both with his wife and his daughters, there's just that side that maybe you grow apart or you end up not knowing them all that well. Like the fictional dialogue excerpts I wrote just above, the way Chilchuck puts work above most things can by itself be the source of a lot of unhealthy habits and strains that could not only hurt himself but his relationships too. Devoted doesn’t mean attentive, even if Chilchuck 100% devotes himself to only her romantically and works in the goal to support her that doesn’t transfer into being there for her, even when he physically is.

An absent father isn't necessarily a deadbeat father, but an absent father is absent. And alright, we don’t know what his schedule was like exactly, but he was busy and traveled around, I think it’s fair to assume that if we were to make comparisons it’d be like parents irl who are often on work trips. We don't know what Chilchuck's wife's social circle is like, but regardless of how big or small or supportive it is it would be easy to get lonely I think. Besides raising the kids undoubtedly falling more onto her shoulders as well. Managing a household can be very hard and tiring even when not alone, I can imagine she felt like she missed the support of Chilchuck either as help or comfort oftentimes. We know very little about her, but I don't get the impression that she'd build up resentment over it except maybe her ‘falling into a bad mood’, but exhaustion? Absolutely.

It’s also implied imo, even beyond Chil not often being at home, that they rarely go out together. And that could very well be part of why she was mad after the outing. In Marcille’s theory she says that her wife felt out of place amongst all the cool adventurer coworkers, and if it’s a rare time that they go out together and it was supposed to be about her meeting his coworkers… I feel like what could have happened was that she felt out of place yes, and even moreso if she ended up not participating in conversations much because of it and no one really seemed to care, and the evening was all Chilchuck and his coworkers chatting it up as always and she was an outsider, if she sort of just faded into the background, if it felt like nothing would have changed wether she was there or not... If she felt like her presence didn’t matter on this special outing that rarely happened, it could have been the straw that broke the camel’s back for her to want to leave, definitely. He finally comes back after a long work travel and they finally go out and this is what their quality time is like? The outing that was supposed to be about her & them both ended up being all about him, and once more she was supposed to just orbit around him and his life without complaint or her own selfish wants like a devoted wife. With how Chil said that she got mad "all of a sudden" on the way home and he didn’t know why, plus that he was probably drunk (which may very well have made the whole thing worse), I feel like it supports that he didn’t pay her much attention during the evening, not that I’m assigning him ill intent at all, I’m sure that for him, it was a casual and fun night out and he didn’t think it'd been unpleasant or alienating for her.

That night

And all of this speculation in order to try and figure… What happened? Why did she leave? I've already gone into it a fair bit, but this is where I discuss it fully in depth.

We can’t rely on Marcille’s theory. Neither in the why she felt so out of place enough to want to leave, nor if her intention when leaving was to "test" him. I definitely agree that the reason why she left is layered and that the night/outing was the straw that broke the camel’s back more than the cause perse, but besides that it’s hard to say how much of it was impulsive and how much was because nothing else had worked to fix their relationship, or how long she'd been thinking of maybe leaving him.

Personally my favorite interpretation isn't that she found herself to be boring surrounded with Chilchuck's adventurer coworkers, or her reason for leaving is super centered around insecurity and if Chilchuck even loves her anymore, but that she sees how rich and eventful Chilchuck's life is and at the same time realizes how stagnant her own life has been. Chilchuck has adventurers for coworkers and they go out to bars and spend evenings together chatting it up, while she always does the same house chores every day and waits, and wonders, uncertain about when her huband would come back, and waits some more. She has a sort of passive role in her own life that gets pulled in one way or another by the people around her at their whims and needs, which is also a recurring theme in the manga: having a passive role in your own life, or a role that's devoted to others. Like with Falin who's always following her parents' directives or following Laios around, being the party's healer and eventually sacrificing herself for Laios and Marcille (she also doesn't seem to think much of marriage, as seen with Shuro proposing to her and her not having answered yet, which fits with how she was supposed to have an arranged marriage in her hometown too; a loveless marriage isn't something alarming to her). Izutsumi too, whose whole arc is about her gaining freedom and figuring out how to use this empowerment for herself and what she wants.

So she'd sit there, not knowing anyone except Chilchuck and not being able to follow their conversations about dungeons, and think about how this is a world she's totally apart from. How she knows so little of the world compared to him. She'd realize that while she's always waiting for Chilchuck to come home, dedicated to him and their family, Chilchuck's world doesn't stop and end at where and when he sees her, that while she's waiting he's living and experiencing things and being self-fulfilled. She's so passive and devoted and her tasks seem almost senseless now that the house is empty except for her, and in that time he's formed half-foot unions and she understands so little of what his life has become outside of her sight. This isn't a diss on Chilchuck or his attitude, I just think that it'd make her ponder about happiness and lifestyles, what's worth it and if she's content with her life. I think she'd find that her and Chilchuck aren't on the same page anymore, and probably they don't communicate much or even that they don't know how to communicate with each other anymore.

Other factors

They really do seem to be on different pages and not know how to communicate with each other well, since for example Chilchuck thinks that on the way back home she "suddenly" fell into a bad mood and seemingly left it alone, or otherwise they didn't talk until he knew what was wrong. Or like how she left and Chilchuck never reached out to her to talk or mend things, just like she never reached out either. According to Marcille it could be that she wanted to "test his love" and see if he'd even care if she was gone, but Chilchuck just got angry that she left like that and never reached out to her, so if that's true they definitely have incompatible expectations or ways to deal with things like that. Maybe she thought of leaving as something he should react to by trying to win her back, but Chilchuck did nothing and let her do her thing, and tbh if that were me I'd also have waited on her to reach out because I figure out that if someone leaves me they want space from me idk. He seems to be rather passive when it comes to interpersonal relationships and how they can mess up, made an analysis post here that talks about it, so the way he reacted by not reacting doesn't feel surprising, maybe she didn't know/remember that part of him, or wanted to shake him out of that tendency. He has no clue why she left, and there are just so many misunderstandings here that it's impossible to know what happened and how she felt and what she wanted for the future.

Also, we’re shown that younger Chilchuck, when he started dungeon crawling, is much more "innocent" and optimistic, less closed off on himself and bitter, and maybe he hasn't even developed his famous "sarcastic retorts" and "abusive remarks" yet as is plastered on all his character introductions and stats. Chilchuck has definitely changed a lot over the years, and some would argue not for the better. Staying with someone for so long has implications that they'll change and be different of course, but signing up for marriage with someone can still leave you questioning that choice decades down the line when they're so different

We get to see his freckles fade in sync with his corruption arc /j

Tfw when you can’t recognize the man you fell in love with.

The hair question

Edit 1/13/2024 leak!!!! Things aren’t officially confirmed but this is a safe bet. You can still read this section to see my reasoning to thinking she had black hair prior to this tho haha

It's not all that important rationally, but the community's been split on the topic: is Chilchuck's wife blonde or not?

Kui highlights Chilchuck being attracted to blondes a grand total of three times, and many assume that his wife is blonde due to this. However, the only vision we see of Chilchuck's wife is Marcille imagining herself as a halfling, so it's up for debate! Flertom has black hair, and that's mostly been the key clue that has people arguing.

I'm not an expert in genetics but black hair is a dominant gene, but it also doesn't mean a black haired parent can't have a brown haired kid, or that two brown haired parents can't have a kid with black hair. As long as one of the parents have it in their genetic code from somewhere in their family tree, it's possible, if not maybe unlikely.

People have been taking Flertom having black hair as evidence that Chilchuck's wife has black hair, but it could be Chilchuck that has the gene and could pass it on. Although...

That seems unlikely. We don't know what Chilchuck's elder brother's hair color was, and his elder sister does have a darker brown hair color, but in the case their parents had black hair or the gene for it, it seems highly unlikely if not impossible for the dominant black hair gene to miss this many amount of time in the gene russian roulette game.

And so I shall now call a witness to the stand, and you reader shall be the judge… Dandan.

You know, this guy? He makes appearances throughout the whole manga, but only has one spoken line in an easy to brush over flashback iirc. He's most often seen hanging out around Chilchuck and other half-foots, but it's unsure how far back he and Chilchuck go.

Now. Remember how Chilchuck and his wife are childhood friends? What if, and hear me out, what if Dandan is related to her. A cousin, or a sibling. Or maybe he's Chilchuck's cousin, even, if we go the reverse route.

The chapter cover

Look at the chapter cover below! We see each member of the main party at a table that's meaningful to them and their history, mostly showing themes of family, community and routine. Laios and Falin sharing a meal by themselves, Marcille at a meal in the cafeteria at the magic academy, Senshi by himself cooking in the dungeon, Izutsumi with Inutade at the Nakamoto household, and... Chilchuck, surrounded by much more mysterious and unknown characters and surroundings.

The only face we see besides the infant is a young one on the left which strikes me as looking a ton like Chilchuck! I doubt it's Meijack or Puckpatti, or someone else, especially since Chilchuck left his hometown pretty early which must make family gatherings harder (and routine is implied with the others’ panels). If it were Meijack I think Kui would have drawn it to more closely match her too, and have her usual freckles. I also don't think it's just Chilchuck and his own family, since if that's Chilchuck the only sibling with black hair he could have is his elder brother and the infant in the middle is clearly, well an infant.

My thoughts are that the table is shared with family friends, or at least members of the community. The elderly person implies that either there's extended family or it’s a gathering, especially if Chilchuck's grandparents don't live with them. Community is implied to be very important with half-foots imo, and if Chilchuck is from a small hometown like he says that would surprise me even less. Childhood friends are often brought together as friends because of circumstances, such as proximity or their families being friends! Doesn't that kid almost off-panel on the right, with a Flertom-like hairstyle and black hair, look to be the same age as the Chilchuck on the left? 👀

Also… Notice the dragon plush she’s holding?

Passed down from mom to daughter? The "most likely belonged to his daughters" is interesting too

If he is related, Dandan could be the infant. I suppose he doesn't end up mattering all that much in the end if you theorize that the Flertom-like kid is his wife on its own though haha. But wether or not you think that this is convincing enough, it's all we have on the topic for now.

Ah yes! Lastly, I've seen the sentiment around that his wife should be blonde, that Chilchuck's taste for blondes, if not the thing that brought them together, should be an acquired taste from loving his wife. That if that's not the case, then Chilchuck's type being blondes is either out of place or insuting or unromantic, etc etc. I can't help but disagree! I think, especially with how Chilchuck and his wife are domestic and all about knowing each from a young age, familiarity etc etc, that it would be so sweet if she wasn't his type! Loving someone so deeply, even if they aren't an idealized type... Which is a common theme/story & character beat in Dungeon Meshi.

Family dynamic theories

Meijack is the most capable, takes after her father the most, seems to have her own business as a locksmith but has a stable steady life. Flertom is the most social, she works at a tavern which seems stable and is ambitious with marriage plans, she has a caring side to her since she sent her dad a handmade gift. Puckpatti is the most upbeat, though she has the most unstable lifestyle, seemingly doing odd jobs.

His daughters do seem well adjusted, which encourages me in that their family seems amicable on the whole and (at the very least) decently functional. We don’t hear what they think of Chilchuck but presumably none of them are on bad terms with him or each other. Flertom does say that "half-foot men are stingy" which, gee, I wonder what half-foot man would have made taught her that- though it does also seem to be a racial stereotype in general, with how for example Namari also says to "steer clear from stores with half-foot clerks".

Flertom seems to be the only one who reached out after their mother left (the only one who's mentioned to have done so at least), and it's because she was the one who took in her mother. It’s not implied that they exchange letters regularly too iirc, it possibly was the only letter they've exchanged since then. I wonder if the daughters even know the full story, if their mother told them all about it or very little. Maybe some are pretty out of the loop, or more distant.

It strikes me that they don't seem to be very close. We're not shown anything that leads us to believe they don't like their father, but I think they're so used to him being absent for work that such distance is normal for them and they don't really long for a deeper relationship or to see him often. They were already out of the house and it seems like they didn't see each other much at that time either so for them it would be just a bit less than the regular amount of Dad time. It's been 4 years Chilchuck what are you doing... But yeah! From what we see they seem mostly unaffected, almost indifferent, not that we can truly tell. I imagine Flertom is the one most attached to Chilchuck with how she sent him a handmade cowl, and I think he rubbed off the most on Meijack teachings wise (besides her attitude, she’s also the one who still wears braids, and we see that Chilchuck braids hair). It makes sense, since they're oldest, and on the contrary I think Puckpatti is the one that knows her father the least. It'd fit the timeline with him working away more while she grew up imo.

Wouldn't it be interesting then that she's the one that Chilchuck says is carefree, in the official translation "doesn't treat life real seriously"? That she's the most optimistic, the most go-with-the-flow, out of the bunch? To me that sounds like a result from her being the youngest and Chil being the most often at work, thus her getting raised by her mother without as much involvement from Chil. Far be it from me to say Chilchuck would raise his daughters to be unhappy btw, not at all, we just all know what down-to-earth values he wants others to have so he doesn't have to worry about them.

Although… Puckpatti spotted?? Seems like he wants to stop her from buying something? His heart meter for her is full <3 (Note: I’ve seen it be argued that this could be his wife. I disagree, since the "stop them" and way that the long haired one is off-center compared to everyone else gives the sense that it’s many of his daughters, and the fact that it’s styled after a dating sim doesn’t mean it’s romantic love as we see with the others. Otherwise imagine being her wife and he tells you not to buy stuff when you go shopping together rip)

Headcanons time:

When naming the daughters, together they choose a pool of names they’d like but only one has the final say, and they alternate between who that is. Chilchuck sticks around more near the end of her pregnancies, and he hasn’t missed any of their births. I don’t have any opinions on who named who right now, but there could be some interesting stuff to theorize with Puckpatti, like them taking extra care picking the name together because they settled on her being their last daughter for fluff, or it was supposed to be Chilchuck but he was so busy that he ended up not picking in time and she was the one to name her for angst.

Actually scratch that I have a new theory : What if it’s actually customary for each parent to pick one half of their half-foot kid’s name? So then each would have chosen half of each girl’s name… And this could be why Chil calls Puckpatti Patti instead of Puck which is her first name, because he’s stubborn since Patti was his pick lmaoooo. Pattipuck doesn’t have the same ring to it alas, his wife was so right

Chilchuck liked to do activities with the girls when they were young. He's not opposed to relaxing at home with them perse, but he likes to do workshops with stuff like arts & crafts to develop their agility some. I don't think they'd do much outings to places like restaurants or theatres for money reason, and I don't think Chilchuck is much of an outdoors type, but he could accompany them to nice fields to play in, or in winter places to play in snow and sled, and organize some activities at home. He's not home very often so when he is he likes to take it easy as a break from work and values the time he gets with his family.

Chilchuck would sometimes work from home as a locksmith, say, unlocking a chest for a customer. In those times, Meijack would take interest and watch him work, even handing him the tools he needs as he goes. In this way, Chilchuck taught her a lot about the work of a locksmith over time. He's also the one that would oil door hinges or do renovation around the house- when he's available.

Like the plushies under his table in his home that we see in illustrations, Chilchuck has a lot of mementos from his daughter (and his wife) he keeps around. Sometimes they take a bothersome amount of place, but throwing anything out isn't something he's seriously willing to consider. Flertom's the most artistic and she used to help with sewing clothes back together, so he has a cheap ceramic mug painted by her when she was really young and small embroideries around.

Imo Meijack would be the most distant in the present. Flertom makes efforts for her parents and is pretty involved, and Puckpatti's distance is more out of being a bit airheaded and being busy + not having a great grasp on time or what's a normal amount of family contact, but Meijack's the one who knowingly and intentionally keeps some distance. I think she’d be the least optimistic about their family situation, and although she’d be hopeful when Chilchuck reached out to them again she’d be a but hesitant. I think Meijack would hold some grudges, being the one most critical of their parenting, both grateful to her dad for working so hard for them and saddened that he wasn't in their life more. Since Flertom was born in the same year I think it’s possible that Meijack was pushed aside a bit to take care of the younger baby more, out of necessity rather than lack of love. Her mom probably needed a lot of help around the house too. Flertom wasn’t blind either, and she cared about & noticed her mom’s emotional states, but she’s on the whole more hopeful and forgiving.

This is my most far fetched one but it is a hc after all, but I think it'd be interesting if one of them had food hoarding tendencies/stress. I like to think it's Flertom, because she's the middle child and would get told that her older sister and younger sister are "growing and need the food" so she wouldn't be allowed to take as much refill or such, add that to them not having much money to frivolously spend on food and that makes a kid who's worried about not eating to her hunger and tends to be possessive over food (I'm projecting). Differential treatment is inevitable in families with many siblings, and it can manifest in small or big ways, maybe they realize it maybe they don't. Working in a tavern has helped eased that tendency of her though, and while she does diet a bit she always leaves a meal feeling satisfied.

When they were younger, Flertom was a real firecracker, loud and spirited with some troublemaking tendencies! She was the daughter that got in trouble & got scolded the most. You can still see slivers of it now that she’s an adult, but she’s much more poised and diligent. She has much more acquaintances than friends, but she has a couple of best friends and usually gets along well with most people. Puckpatti was always a bit head in the cloud, very kind if not gullible, and tended to make friends somewhat easily but didn’t keep them for long, preferring to keep meeting new people and not keeping in touch well. She isn’t super talkative but tends to ramble when she does. Meijack is very introverted, she has more trouble making friends, she has a good handful though they don’t meet up often, her friendships tend to last and she’s close to them. She’s grown more confident over the years, less repressed and more quiet. Meijack as the big sister tended to be the listener for her younger sisters who had more social mishaps. Flertom has dated once before and it only cemented to her that she was going to have very high standards from then on.

Meijack wears thigh-high boots because she hates when sand, dirt or snow gets in her shoes. She wears practical clothing but avoids anything frilly or flashy. Puckpatti also dresses practically, but she does enjoy pretty clothes, it’s more out of necessity and due to not having enough money to indulge. Flertom has a social stable job and she loves prettying herself up (especially as she’s in search of a husband) so she’s the one who gets the most and nicest fashionable clothes and accessories.

Chilchuck is hinted to have had a rather dysfunctional family himself (alcoholic father, distant siblings, etc). So he doesn’t really have the best model on how to raise someone and such. I imagine it was a sort of neglectful home situation, where the kids are encouraged to be independent. If they didn’t have to work or help around much, then free range parenting sort of thing. We do see how the family has full and warm feasts, where someone cleans his mouth with a rag, so it’s not like he didn’t have a caring circle or a tragic childhood though! I don’t remember if it’s explicitely stated, but he’s heavily implied to having grown up poor, as most half-foots, and I just think it's the hardened hardworking family type of childhood where just like he does with others they instill somewhat harsh life lessons in him, which in turn encourages him to indulge in the simple pleasures of life like alcohol and sex, or at least women’s beauty and crass jokes. We do see he seems more optimistic when he's younger in flashbacks, so a bunch of his harsh view on the world is still likely learned and earned rather than taught. I still think he inherited many flawed views from how his father acted, like his attitude about excessive drinking not being a big deal and worth it. That work hard play hard, enjoy life die young mentality he has, shown mostly in the "alcohol" section of his Adventurer's Bible profile, could very well be partly a result of the general poverty half-foot communities are that he grew in as well, like how he doesn't hope for things to be as best as they could be and contends with good enough. As far as I remember, his mother is never mentioned, but I doubt it implies she was out of the picture. She was probably a regular sort of mother that took care of the home as well and was still around when his father died. It looks like there’s a good age gap between one sibling to the next, that could be interesting to dig into too.

A part of Chilchuck’s character is that he takes responsibility for safety and actions of people around him and is very often looking out for them to not do faux-pas wether socially or literally with stepping onto traps. The way he says "I’ve got three people to think of here" makes me think that’s also how he’d think about having to provide for his family, and that could be a source of stress and insecurity for him. Caring for others is a pretty integral part of his character and we see time and time again that his family is very important to him, in any case.

Post-canon

This pic has so much to say!! It’s the ‘thank you for reading’ double page spread where they’re going to a big dining table at the castle with Laios and the main gang. First family gathering in 4 years perhaps?! I’ll say, not feeling very hopeful that his wife isn’t in this, not even implied to be just off-panel with a hand or anything… I imagine before this he still talked to them at least a bit and figured their family situation out, but I think this is still in the early stages of reconnecting. Haha imagine being one of them and receiving a letter saying "Hi it’s been a while… I want to introduce you to my ex-coworker the king and his friends, you up for that?" I don’t want to reconsider all my hcs for this yet, but this pic does seemingly show an eagerness from all the daughters to reunite and reconnect! Meijack’s could be seen as more hesitant, but I think it’s just awkwardness from meeting so many new people, of high status no less. Chilchuck does seem awkward and somewhat self-conscious though, and while that could be just from say Marcille and the others meeting his daughters and him not knowing how to act, I think that also shows that Chilchuck is unsure how to act around his daughters too. Can’t blame him, I’d be stressed too. Anyways, the daughters are all dressed up! Puckpatti even brought flowers! And I doubt it’s just for Senshi, or just to be in with the king. Oh also also, Puckpatti chides Meijack here, seemingly on manners?, so that implies new/different family dynamics there~

We know with the succubus chapter that he does plan on reaching out to his wife again and shooting his shot, and when Marcille was dungeon lord he told her she could help think of a plan to make up with her together at which point Marcille showered him in gifts and flowers intended for her and his daughters. So we do know that whatever happens and however it happens, Chilchuck definitely will at least reach out to her to win her back or worse case scenario get closure on the situation.

-

These are his plans before it’s revealed that the Island is… Well, not an island but the golden kingdom, so the news that Laios is king and that might have changed them a bit, but I think he’s still gonna stick around to help with the half-foot guild for a while.

My personal ideal post-canon Chilchuck life is that after around a year or two of helping around in the golden kingdom, especially regarding half-foot working rights, he gets his shop and finally settles down. He prioritized the whole half-foot guild because there are changes to attend to and people to help, but also used that to procrastinate a bit on getting in touch with his wife again. He does send a letter though, and when she replies they then meet face to face. They explain how it was like on their end, their grievances and their feelings, and they do reconcile. But… It’s been 4 years and his wife has frankly moved on. She’d rather they stay as friends, and Chilchuck has mixed feelings on it but is ultimately fine with it. He was halfway resigned to not reconciling with his wife in canon after all. But no longer do they have cut contact! They get together with the girls for the holidays and the ambiance is nice! He starts exchanging letters more regularly. He also gets a second family of clingy asses with Izutsumi and the main gang and so though he lives alone in his shop he’s well surrounded and well loved, and his daughters visit to check up on him every so often.

I really like the… Maturity of Chilchuck’s plotline, if that makes sense? To me the ending that fits the most is him and his wife reconciling, but not getting back together. I like that they could still be adults about it and at least amicable even after divorce, and that that wouldn’t be treated as a tragic ending. In the end, they were childhood friends and teenage parents, they rushed things a bit and I genuinely think they’re just not that compatible. If not then, at least having it be a gradual process, getting back together and making it work until they’re truly comforatble with each other. Destroy the relationship to better build it again stronger!

Although, his arc in the manga is to allow himself to form connections and be optimistic, which would fit well with him and his wife getting back together. I def think Chil would get healthier post-canon which could fix the issues they had in their relationship though. Like for one he starts eating more, which improves mood & irritability & health, and also after the whole half-foot guild he plans to settle down with a shop so it wouldn’t be long distance or unstable anymore which would definitely give his wife some peace of mind. If they still do some long distance at first while he gets the half-foot guild stable, it’d be really cute if he sent pressed flowers with his letters to her… That could make a nice fic concept, like over time all the pressed flowers and exchanged letters hehe (oh shit that’s a nice title)

My post-canon timeline is Chilchuck lives a nice life living alone in his house except his friends all visit him and care and even tho he likes living alone it’s also bittersweet and every corner of his life is haunted by mementos of the ones he loves and the moments he had with them. But then it’s also like the shared duty of everyone to pass by his shop when they can and keep the old man company and sometimes that means many people come at the same time like if both Meijack and Marcille came the same day~ Cozy life, no regrets except a lil regrets still. That’s it that’s all I want.

Misc

I didn’t know where to put this, so new category time! Family truly is a central theme of Chilchuck’s character. His reaction to learning more about how life gets made is so awed by the wonder of the world. Life indeed…

The implication of this page is that Chil didn’t know about the science side of how procreation works, though of course he did know about the practical side of it. This is speculation, and we have no clue how widespread the information of how reproduction scientifically works lol, but I think it’s fair to think that half-foots’ education especially in smaller communities is handled by the parent, school of life style, or if there are schools then the education is very general and it probably ends early. I think this is supported by how for example half-foots’ jobs we’ve seen are based on experience rather than knowledge, like being a locksmith. Of course any job has its fair share of specialized knowledge to learn, but jobs you learn on the fly pretty well. This sort of dynamic contrasts a lot against elves many tallmen communities, like with the magic academy, where education and knowledge are valued almost above experience, this is what the mandrake chapter was all about after all. Poorer communities tend to have poorer education systems as well irl, it’s a whole issue.

So I already said my piece about his wife not being blonde and it being nice and romantic because literally you don’t need someone to be a beauty ideal to love them and that’s fine and normal and even more romantic imo. But!! I do have an headcanon, now that his wife’s appearance is all but explicitly confirmed. While their hair is blonde, yes their hair is wavy and the ‘main’ one has deep-set eyes, not unlike his wife! Now this is a ‘which came first the egg or the chicken’ question, but while most people seem to be assuming that he got with his wife because she was his type, since they’re childhood friends I feel like it’s his love for his wife that shaped his preferences in that deparment. Like ok he loves golden hair and hers is black, but isn’t it so much more romantic that he has so much love and devotion for his wife and has stared lovingly at it so much over the years, that it’d become his ideal? He loves her eyes <3

Conclusion

Reminder that I’ve got more observations and tidbits compiled in a reblog addition now.

More stuff I should workshop for the masterpost:

Compile more info on Chilchuck's father and his other family. Edit: I compiled all I had pretty neatly here in a speculation post, but there’s no other concrete piece of info other than what I’ve covered here sadly. Same with stuff like Chilchuck’s past work schedule and exchanged letters, there seems to be no other bits of evidence, except…

On the chapter cover and extra where he’s in his basement room we can see one letter and a few papers across his desk. Maybe family letters? Wether his daughters or relatives. Seems too few to me, could just as well be job descriptions, but truly who knows, it’s hopeful.

Excellent analysis on half-foot culture here by a friend that I should read and incorporate the good info into my own meta~

And thus I leave you with a lil web weaving I made about Chil & his wife’s relationship~ And this is where I’d put panels of Chilchuck’s wife… IF THERE WERE ANY

Should we even call Chilchuck's wife Mrs. Tims... We don't know dunmeshi marrital traditions though, and half-foot already have somewhat complex naming conventions... I hate that we don't really know if the daughters' last names are Chils or Chilz. Although that seems to be a japanese to english translation issue, since japanese used the suffix zu and not su, likely to imitate the english S sound at the end of a word. Oh yeah the last names change each generation, that’s odd right? But in english it sounds like saying Chil’s, like, [father]’s, so I think this also supports how half-foots communities tend to be tightly knit and live in the present, for them to be like "Ooh so you’re [father]’s little one eh? I know who that is and this is insightful as to who your family is to me!". Iceland’s a place where last names are like this, though I don’t know about pros and cons of it in that context. It’s called a patronymic.

Ah and I have a bittersweet spotify playlist about her and Chil too, here if ya want. That’s it the post is over

[anki-of-beleriand]

A Heart Made Of Glass ch.15

Summary: Ten years ago you left Wanda and the Avengers to heal your broken heart. You never stopped being a hero, just as you never stopped being in love with her. But life had to go on.

Now, after all that time, she is back and with her is a young woman needing help and an enemy that may not be as afraid as Wanda to lay a claim on you.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Powered!F!Reader - Scarlet Witch x PoweredF!Reader - Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision - CarolxF!Reader

Warnings: Angst, drama, mentions of cheating, fluff, violence, smut, Switch!Reader, internalize homophobia, hurt, comfort, Wanda being a complete mess, anger management issues, jealousy, Requited/Unrequited love, idiots in love, swearing, mentions of alcohol. More tags as the story progess.

Author's Note: This story is a continuation of Dirty Little Secret I was really surprised at the response I got for the story, I did all the tags you guys ask for but if I forgot someone please do not hesitate to tell me. Thank you for the support.

Reader has some decisions to make, Wanda is just confused, and things are finally looking up for the both of them.

Please, do remember English is no my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Epilogue

Chapter 15

From Kamar-Taj

Time didn't stop after Wanda left.

Days and nights came by without any significant changes, the different agencies that had come to help during the dome incident had long gone and you were left alone once more. 

Tony had stayed behind long enough to ensure you and the others would be fine. And Monica had stayed to keep Carol company before going back to her normal duties; life in general went back to what it was.

Like the waters of the ocean surrounding Ulsteinvik, there was only calmness and the people in the city had forgotten and forgiven the small disruption in their lives. You were still as welcome, as the first time you got into the city to help those in need. 

The holidays had been welcomed by the inhabitants of the city with fireworks and a party that lasted a full weekend. You had enjoyed the admiration and sheer happiness on America's face whenever she went from one stand of food to the other, when she got in contact with teens her age and soon found herself living a life she hadn't enjoyed so far.

A bell sounded to your left, the door of the restaurant opened with a twirl of cold wind sneaking inside the place. You shifted on the chair leaning against the wall, your eyes following with amusement the discussion America started with Yelena. 

“She is unbelievable, you would think she is the same age as America.” Natasha snorted when Yelena slapped the table pointing to the street, soon the both of them left to prove a point missed by you and Natasha.

“I think they like to mess with one another far too much.” You shrugged, grabbing the glass of wine you had been drinking and taking another ling sip. 

It wasn't until then you noticed you had been left alone with Natasha. The Widow smirked, quivering a brow at you, her hands placing themselves on the table with her eyes never leaving yours, you knew what was about to come. For more than two weeks everyone had been trying to get a hold of you and the letter and know exactly what the young witch had said to you.

So far, you had been successful in pretending that letter never happened, making sure you were never alone with Natasha or Yelena.

“Well, are you going to tell me?” Natasha asked, leaning back on the chair, her clear eyes studying you. “Whatever it was, it really had an effect on you. Should I be worried?”

You exhaled placing your closed hands on the table, the steam coming from your mug covering your chin. Natasha scrutinised your posture and your facial expressions, it was something she had been doing in the last couple of weeks knowing that whatever had happened with Wanda was still affecting you in ways you didn't want to. You had been standing on the outlines, trying to disappear behind your shadows while zoning out whenever everyone was sharing light conversation at the dinner table or a mission was being shared. 

“Wanda told me what she did after the funeral,” you started the story, your head tilting to the side while your hand made a gesture to the waitress for the woman to bring another round of coffee.

“It is a rather long story, Tasha.” You smiled when the other woman raised a single eyebrow at you.

“So I see, I'm going to finally get the full story? The real one?”

You chuckled, shrugging while taking a long sip from the cup.

“She went back to the compound, went through my room until she came across the small trunk I kept in the wardrobe.”

You could see as realisation hit Natasha in a second, her eyes went wide with a slack jaw marked by the disbelief of what Wanda found inside that place. You nodded smiling bitterly at her 

“Yeah, she found everything and then, she just wanted to see Westview and the area where the place was supposed to be.”

From there you told Natasha everything you heard from Wanda and whatever blank spaces you filled in with some digging. You knew Tony had helped Wanda at some point, then she was contacted by Strange to help with the case of America which led her to your doorstep. Even after that, it was obvious something had happened, and that was the moment in which Agatha entered the story.

Agatha had worked in the shadows lurking Wanda to the spot she had been looking for I'm Westview. She had made it possible for Wanda to break down, with the enchantment she had placed before Wanda's arrival, she had worked her way into the fantasy guaranteeing that she could control some aspects of the fantasy.

Pietro and Vision had been some of them.

“Do you believe them?” Natasha finally asked, she squinted her eyes reading your reaction at her question. “It sounds convenient that Agatha could only bring dead people, so Visions being there was a coincidence meant to manipulate you. Convenient.”

The door of the café opened and closed again, the conversation around your table was suddenly louder than it had been moments ago. You scolded thinking over what Natasha was just saying, it was something you had thought but it was far too elaborate for Wanda to just make it up.

Right?

Besides, Agatha did admit to the manipulation. Your eyes hardened, you clenched your jaw tilting your head until your eyes focused on the world outside. Whatever doubts growing in your mind stopped when you remember childish laughter and then non-stop babbling from the twins.

“They look like me.” You mumbled turning to Natasha. “You should have seen them, Tasha. Billy and Tommy have some resemblance to me and Wanda, their eyes, the colour of the hair, the smile, some mannerisms…”

“Is this why you have been acting weird since you came back?” Natasha leaned over the table, she didn't miss your behaviour in the last couple of weeks her concern for you had been latent at all times but she had always respected your space allowing you to just come to her to talk.

You purse your lips grabbing a napkin, the frown deepened with your eyes flickering between confusion and nostalgia.

“Partially.” 

It was so easy to pretend you were still angry at hurt by what happened ten years ago, to just turn your back on the young woman you had met on a mission angry and scared that ended up becoming your life. Never before or after her did you feel the same for anyone, not even Carol. And when Wanda came back, hurt, scared, tired and asking for help your heart trembled with the same love you thought you had buried in the past. 

But love was not enough.

“She is still in love with you.” It was a statement, Natasha drank her tea glancing out of the window. “I don't think she never stopped loving you.”

“Love is for children.” You smirked amused by the roll of Natasha's eyes.

“True, but sometimes love should be enough.”

“It's never enough.” You leaned back scratching the back of your neck. “I could experience first hand what it would be like to be with her.”

Natasha softened at your words, she heard as you narrated every single detail of what you lived in the other universe. How you became a parent to the children that seemed to love you even though you were a different mom to them. How your other self would glance at Wanda and how that Wanda would look at you.

For the first time ever since everything happened you opened up about your fears, your hopes, and your wishes. It hadn't been easy to come to the conclusion of what you really desired, of what you really needed. But, here you were, pouring your heart out to Natasha, the only woman apart from Yelena that could beat some sense into you.

“What did the letter say?” Natasha finally asked, you hesitated before putting the letter from your pocket and handing it to the other woman.

“That love should be enough to start again.” You replied, focusing your attention on the people walking down the street. Natasha concentrated,reading the letter left by Wanda on the day she went away. 

Dear Y/N,

I’m not good with words, and I don't even know how to say everything I wish to tell you. My words had been trapped inside my head for over a decade, and I wasn't sure if approaching you with them was a wise thing to do. I knew of your anger towards me, and I knew you were probably feeling a hatred I didn't want to see in your eyes. I just couldn't deal with you not looking at me with love and happiness, the way it used to be.

I made many mistakes. But the biggest one was to let you go.

I asked for forgiveness once, but I wanted to say it once more.

Please, my love, forgive my weakness and my indecision. I should have never acceded to what was easy, to what my parents would have wanted, to what everyone was expecting of me. I know this doesn't make it any less stupid or hurtful, and that I should have never hurt you in such a way.

You are my world, and ever since you’ve been gone I have been so lost.

But I push myself to continue because I cannot give up, I have to discover my worth to be able to reach out to you once more.

I don't want to keep going knowing you are out there and that I am not with you, and I don't want to live with the past above my shoulders afraid of at least tried to be with you. After what we lived in these last week's I realized, I don't want to.

I understand if you are no longer interested, and that you already have someone else in your life. If that's the case, I would step aside but be there for you as a friend.

If not, then…I won't give up on you. I love you, I am still so much in love with you that sometimes it is hard to breathe and my chest twisted painfully knowing you and I could be…in another time, in another universe.

I will leave, not because I want to, but because I need to.

But I will wait for you, if this is what you want.

Love should be enough for now, right? This time around I promise you I won't let you go without a fight, my heart is already yours, Y/N, it has been for more than a decade. Please, just…give us a chance.

With love,

Wanda M.

Silence followed Natasha just as she placed the letter on the table. The only sounds breaking into their shared space were those of cutlery and low conversation in other tables, everyone was oblivious to what the two women had been sharing and even the weight of the circumstances leading them to the situation they were in at the moment.

You rested your chin on the back of your hand, your eyes dancing around the streets following patterns with your mind going back to the letter. You had learnt it's contents a long time ago, ever since Yelena gave you the letter. 

“The only one that can do something about this is you, you know that, right?”

“I know.” You faced Natasha, your lips curving upwards. 

“I've been with you all this time, Y/N.” Natasha chose her words with care, never once letting go of your stare. “I've seen the good and the bad, I've seen you fighting against your own pain and becoming the woman you are right now…and I have seen Wanda as well, she wasn't as lucky as you were.”

“I know.” You whispered, Natasha offered a tender smile placing a hand on top of yours. 

“I want you to be happy.” Natasha squeezed your hand winking. “I think it will take time but, perhaps, a friendship is not a bad idea.”

You opened your eyes at those words, your heart leaping inside your chest.

“You think…it is possible?”

“It's what you want, isn't it?”

You didn't answer, but if you were honest with yourself, it was what you wanted and what you had already decided to do. You were still afraid, going back to Wanda would it mean to face a past that was not completely erased and buried, and it was also a chance of falling harder than ever and not being able to go back from these emotions anymore. But, now that you knew what could happen, you couldn't say no to just give her and yourself a chance.

Before anything else could be done or said a tap on the window called your attention, Yelena and America were grinning through the window pointing to some bags they had on their hands. You snorted turning to Natasha who was still looking at you with tenderness.

“I guess we should go.”

“Let's go, the .”

Natasha didn't ask, and you didn't elaborate, but the both of you had come to the same conclusion and now it was a matter of time for you to step into the road leading to Wanda Maximoff.

________

She could hear the shower running, the sound of your voice singing a random song from your playlist. Carol smiled, closing the door of the room behind her, her footsteps taking her to the bed where she saw your clothes scattered around the bed. The blond-haired woman went to pick them up, thinking about the domesticity of her life in recent weeks.

The whole fiasco with Wanda had made her feel insecure, Carol had seen the conflict in your eyes but as soon as the other woman had been out of the picture it was easier for you to go back to Carol. It had not been easy, and Carol had been patient enough to know that it was time for her to make the proposal.

It was something the both of you had talked about before, Carol still had a duty to the Galaxy and she would be more than happy to share her travels with you.

Carol grabbed your jacket, her eyes flickering around until they fell on the white envelope inside your pocket. Without thinking too much about it, she grabbed the envelope looking at its contests before sitting down to read the letter.

The warm water rolling down your back felt heavenly, you lifted your face to the shower while letting the notes of the song overwhelmed your senses. It had been a long day, America was about to start school once more and Yelena was supposed to leave for New York the following week 

Your conversation with Natasha left your soul lighter, while your heart trembled with anticipation of what you would do. A part of you knew what should be your next action, while another part dread the conversation you needed to have with Carol Danvers.

When the both of you started the relationship, you never left space for romance. It was physical more than emotional, yet Carol had become a close friend and someone you could trust with your life, it was only fair for you to be honest with Carol. You didn't know what would happen with Wanda, but Carol was too emotionally involved with you for you to just leave things the way they were.

You excited the bathroom with a towel covering your body, your hands stopped midair just as your eyes fell on the woman sitting on your bed. 

“Carol! Hey, I didn't expect you here so soon, I thought you were with Monica.”

Carol winced, lowering her gaze, she pressed her lips together before facing you. You cocked your head, blinking slowly at the seriousness from the other woman.

“She had an important meeting, it didn't make sense for me to stay behind.” Carol stood up, her hand holding a familiar envelope.

Your eyes opened slightly, your eyebrows shooting upwards while the other woman stretched her hand in your direction.

“I never have a chance with you,” she stated, you opened your mouth ready to say something but the other woman shook her head. Tears welling up in her eyes.

“No, don't say anything, I know.” Carol shook her head looking away, “you told me, hell even Natasha told me, but I just thought she had hurt you enough for you to stop feeling anything for her.”

The conversation was turning out to be something uncomfortable with you dressed only on a towel. You tried to hold onto it, while trying to be as serious and as clear as possible.

“Carol, this has nothing to do with Wanda.” You started almost wincing when Carol narrowed her eyes at you nodding to the letter.

“I think it has everything to do with her.”

Silence followed such declaration, you stood there undecided as to what to do or how to proceed. The hand holding the letter was heavy, while the one holding the towel had been shaking all this time. You could see the hurt in Carol's eyes, how lost and really brokenhearted she was feeling at the moment.

It was something you had lived once that you wouldn't want anyone experiencing the same situation as you did. 

“Yes and no.” You stated trying to look for the right words. “I have been running from my emotions for a very long time, from my past and this mission…I never thought I would be facing everything I thought I didn't need or even want.”

“So now you're going back to her?” Carol couldn't help but press the subject, her eyes never leaving yours.

“I’m not sure as to what do I want to do or what it is exactly that I am looking for,” this time around you stepped forward, your hand left the towel to grab Carol's hand. “I just know that I have to do something about it and…see what will happen.”

Carol wanted to add something else, she wanted to say something but whatever she might say would sound hurtful and resentful. You stepped closer waiting to see if she rejected your proximity but if anything Carol seemed to give in. 

“I'm sorry.” Your voice was above a whisper, her hands soon wrapped around your waist and you could feel her warm breath on your neck.

“I never wanted to hurt you, Carol.”

“I know, I just wish I was enough for you.”

Without thinking too much, or actually planning on doing something different your cupped her face leaning in to share a goodbye kiss. Carol sighed, kissing you harder, pressing you against the closest wall trying to imprint in her mind the last memory she would have of you.

______________

Three months later

The rain was falling on the roof with constant tapping breaking the silence in the room.

The heavy aroma of incense and myrrh impregnated the air in the room, the placed was decorated with earthly colours and there was a single chair that had been occupied by a strange man wearing a dark orange Kasaya. The man had been there ever since you arrived at the temple, his eyes dancing around a book he was reading with attention.

Your feet took you to the closest window, the world right outside was a full range forest that was being clouded by the falling rain and the darkening sky. Thunder broke into the valley, and you winced hearing the rumbling sky right above your head echoing its rage with nothing to quiet down the sound. Your eyes flickered to the sky, and for that moment, your mind drifted to the last couple of weeks in which your life had change so drastically.

After Carol found Wanda’s letter in your pocket, she decided to leave for good.

It was a tough decision, and a part of you regrated the way she had to leave and how things ended up between the both of you. It hadn’t been fair with the other woman, but you never made any promises that you couldn’t keep. In the end, Carol understood this and after one last goodbye, she left to comply with her mission to the Galaxy.

You always thought you would go looking for Wanda after that, but you didn’t.

Instead of just going where your heart was telling you to go, you stayed behind to fix and organise your life the best way you could. Natasha and Yelena kept up with their mission, the brought former Widows and some hurt powered individuals that you helped to go back on their feet while teaching America about her powers while giving her a taste of a normal life.

It had been working just fine, America had been getting used to her life with you and she was getting into the whole high-school adventure the best way she could. Life in Norway had always been a quiet experience, and something that you had fallen in loved with ever since you got there; that was the reason you never left. But in the midst of all of this, and life going back to what it was you found yourself going back to the letter and to Wanda.

It became quite the habit for you to just sit outside or go to the lighthouse to think and overthink about Wanda, the letter, and what you should do next.

“Why do you keep pretending to think about what you’re going to do when you already know?”

Yelena had been the first one to question you, and you didn’t have a complete answer to that. You just gave a vague answer dismissing the young woman before going back to ignore the tug at your heart, and the memory of Wanda inside your head.

“I talk to Wanda yesterday, she wants me to tell you that she really is grateful for the book you send over, help with the boredom.” That time it had been America, and the teen had come at you with a frown and narrowed eyes. “Did you really send her a book? Why didn’t you go to her? Or wrote to her? Or even call her?”

You didn’t have an answer for those questions, so you just shrugged and proceed to ask America about the girl you saw her talking to the other day. America had blushed and soon had forgotten her questioning of your actions, you merely smirked keeping the words Wanda had sent to you closed to your heart.

“Everyone is tired of you being an idiot, so Tony sent his jet that it is waiting for you. You’ll leave at midnight, go pack your stuff.”

Natasha had not been as subtle as the others, and she had gone on full commanding mode before setting everything up for your departure. That was how you ended up at the other side of the world, with just a single backpack and waiting in the lobby with a storm happening right outside the window.

Ever since you went into the plane your heart had been leaping inside your chest, shivering while awakening a hoard of butterflies in your lower abdomen. You had been trying to control your nervousness, and your thoughts had been protected by a dark cloud ever since you arrived at Nepal. You didn’t know what you were going to say, but you did know that the time to fix everything had arrived.

“Y/N, this is really a surprised.”

You turned around to see a smirking Strange standing by the door, you returned the smirk walking towards him with your hand stretched out.

“Strange, I have to say I was forced to make up my bag and come here.” You shrugged making a face, “didn’t have much of a choice.”

“And yet, this is the place you want to be, right?” Strange chuckled tilting his head, “took you long enough.”

“Is there everyone talking about me behind my back?” You grumbled shaking your head, Strange shrugged stepping aside to show a long hallway.

“We were merely speculating and hoping.”

“Hoping?”

Strange walked beside you, his face a mask of complete peace. The man had not age that much, and yet he seemed to carry with him the weight of the world and a duty that came to him when he needed it the most.

“We were hoping for you to make the right decision.” Strange stopped at another door, this time around those eyes of his hardened while they pinned you to the spot. “Wanda has made great progress here, you know? I know things between the both of you were not easy when you were younger but things are different now.”

“I know that.” You scowled lifting your chin, “that’s the reason I’m here, things are different now and I think it is time for me to just…”

You waved your hands around, the gesture trying to replace the words you didn’t dare to say to this man. Whatever you had come to Kathmandu for, it was something you would discuss with Wanda alone. For a moment, Strange gave you an odd quizzical stare before his face relaxed again and he opened the door.

You opened your eyes impressed by the sight, right in front of you there was a huge yard filled with training grounds that were completely empty under the rain. In each corner of the squared Yard there was a fountain decorated with mythological animals pouring water with a melodic fall. Your eyes went from the yard to the ceilings and the sky, then they finally focused on a young man standing by the closest column waiting patiently for something.

Strange cleared his throat presenting the young man to you.

“I have set up a room for you, Carlos will take you there.” Strange dedicated you along stare before speaking again. “Everything had been set up, and when you’re ready you will know where to go.”

“Thank you for having me here, Strange.”

“Don’t mention it, as I said, I think this is necessary and I think it would be beneficial for you and her.” Strange waved at you, turning around. “Just…don’t break her heart.”

Those words shoot a cold, sharp pain through your heart, your eyes opened and your mouth was already formulating a retort to such words. However, you stopped yourself when the sky ignited into a bluish-silvery light and thunder growled through the valley.

You jumped startle turning your eyes to the sky.

“Sometimes silence is better than no silence at all.” Carlos smiled gently at you; he bowed showing the opposite side of the hall to you. “Shall we, Mrs. Y/L/N?”

The young man led you a room in the far corner of the compound, it was under the shadow of a mountain while facing the forest and the far-away city of Kathmandu. The room was quite simple, with a single bed, a bedside table, a desk, a bathroom and a wardrobe it was something that reminded you of your younger days.

“I hope this is of your liking, Mrs. Y/L/N, dinner usually is served at 7pm, and breakfast at 6am, after those hours you are very welcome to use the kitchen at your own discretion.” Carlos explained while allowing you to se the room. “If you need anything else, please do not hesitate to reach out to me. I am in charge of you for as long as you stay here.”

“Thank you, Carlos, you are very kind.” You offered a single smile; Carlos bowed his head but before he could go you called out to him. “Carlos, wait.”

The young man turned around tilting his head with a frown on his face.

“Do you know…where can I find Wanda Maximoff?”

Carlos frown deepened and it looked to you as if he didn’t know for certain where the woman was or who you were asking for. Then, his eyes opened slightly with a glint of understanding in them.

“She usually spends her time in the Meditation Chamber, it is located it on the left wing of the compound. Near the pass to the mountain range.” Carlos hesitated before bowing again. “No one likes to go there when she is using the small chamber, Y/L/N, so please be advised of this.”

“Thank you, Carlos, I will be careful.”

The young man nodded and finally left.

You stood in the middle of the room for a while before dropping your backpack to the ground and falling to the bed. You closed your eyes, your heart beating a tad bit faster while your hands got all sweaty; there was a tingling void in the pit of your stomach making you tensed around the shoulders.

What the hell am I doing? Why am I even here? What if…what if this doesn’t work?

These thoughts danced around your head, your body regulating your breathing until you finally fall asleep. The last thought that crossed your mind was that Wanda would be in for a great surprised, and you just hoped that love really was enough.

You woke up with a start.

The room was submerged in darkness, not a single sound could be heard inside or outside your room. You sat down noticing the clothes you had arrived on, and the unmade backpack on the floor. You had fallen asleep, tired for the trip and the emotional rollercoaster you had been as of late.

You were also running from what was to come.

With a quick glance to the watch on your wrist, it was past four in the morning. You stood up and made your way to the bathroom, your mind going over the dream that had woken you up abruptly. The memories mixed with the dream of what could be, the anxiousness of a meeting you were not sure how it would turn out to be.

You took a deep breath enjoying the morning breeze that caressed your skin. The rays of light sneaking through the heavy clouds gliding above your head, it was a cold morning with little light following your stroll down the hall in the direction of the kitchen. All around you the morning routine for the inhabitants of the temple had started, with one single thought in mind, you went straight to the kitchens for a coffee before meeting with the woman you had come to see. Your lower abdomen was already filling up with butterflies, and your body tingled in anticipation.

*****

There was a small cabin located at the outskirts of the compound.

Wanda had chosen this place because it was the only place in which she could hide from the judging stare of the rest of the inhabitants in Kamar-Taj. In the last couple of months, she had been focusing on learning more about her powers and about herself, she had tried to reach out for some sort of peace while getting her powers under control.

It had worked, to some degree.

What she really found difficult to overcome, or to actually face with a cold heart was her past. And more exactly, her feelings for you. The memories mixed inside her head, the possibilities along with her desires and her hopes brought a new kind of longing to her heart. The letter she left behind had been her fighting effort to be a part of your live, she was conscious of your anger but also of your willingness to forgive. 

Wanda had hoped that perhaps…

The sun raised on the horizon, this time around the yellowish light broke into the sky bathing that ground with light. Wanda rested her elbows on her knees, her eyes lost on the mountain chains spreading through the valley. She had found peace in Kamar-Taj, and after three months of uncertainty, she had given up seeking to heal her broken heart.

“You surely know how to pick these places.” Your voice broke any silence spreading through the house, Wanda jerked awake turning sharply to the source.

You stood rather awkwardly at the door leading to the yard, your hand scratching the back of your head but your eyes completely set on Wanda.

“Y/N?” Wanda whispered in disbelief; with heavy limbs she turned completely standing up. “You…what…”

The words went missing in her mind, she was dumbfounded never thinking it was possible to see you once more. To actually have you there, standing casually in front of her. You raised a brow, lips curling in amusement, you stepped closer observing as all defenses broke and Wanda stood vulnerable in front of you. Why didn't you see it before that day?

There was some hesitation on your part but, after a brief moment, you stepped closer hugging Wanda, holding her closer to your chest. 

“Hey there, little witch.” The nickname rolled out of your lips with a  familiarity you hadn’t lost and Wanda wrapped her arms around you tightly hiding her face in the crook of your neck.

This moment crossed your mind several times, each scenario had been different every time and sometimes the outcome had not been pleasant. But at that moment, it was everything you were looking for and Wanda was needing.

The sunny morning had changed rapidly into a snowy one, the sky darkened with cold breezes breaking into the temple forcing its inhabitants to seek refuge inside the quarters of the temple.. 

Wanda had been talking non-stop, it was unusual of her to just make small conversation but she had been nervous enough to have you there to just stay quiet and not say anything at all. Her hand grabbed the teapot, pouring the warm water into the small mugs she had fixed on a tray.

“Strange thought this could be good for me, he told me the offer had been on the table by the time Thanos was defeated but…” Wanda lifted the tray making her way to makeshift living room.

“But America and Westview happened.” You finished helping her out, Wanda smiled nervisouly shrugging while locking her eyes to yours. “You never have a rest, haven't you? I mean, as far as I know, you have been facing difficulties from day one and…”

“Losing you left me lost.” She mumbled sitting down, conscious that your eyes were on her. 

This was the first time she referred to that moment, Wanda grabbed the mug with both hands frowning lightly.

“I was afraid of everything I was feeling, everything I was experiencing with you.” She whispered only for you to hear. “You were everything I wanted and I was…I wasn't no one, Y/N, why would you want to be with me?”

You pierced together every single moment surrounding the break up, the treason before and after, the happiness and the heartbreak. At that time, Wanda had been completely alone, having lost Pietro had been difficult and then she was trusted into a life she hardly understood, and people that were more afraid of her than anything. It was not an excuse, but you understood what Wanda was saying.

“You broke my heart so bad, Wanda.” You spoke, noticing the hardening of your voice, Wanda winced but you didn't stop there. “I was in love with you, ready to give you the world, ready to help you with the weight you were carrying…but I never saw how hard it was for you.” Wanda broke into a bitter smile, “did I ever tell you about the beginning of the war?”

The question caught you by surprise, the change of topic was so sudden you were tempted to press further into questions about the cheating and the reasoning behind it. It was the shadows crossing Wanda's face that made you rethink your options, and the fact this was the first time she spoke about Sokovia.

“You never spoke about Sokovia, or your family. Not really.” You replied, earning a simple nod.

“My family was complicated, mom lost dad when we were children and she married soon after.” Wanda spoke with the weight of memory in her voice, her eyes drifting away until the found yours once more. “My stepfather was a religious man, and mom was a school teacher that had never forced her beliefs on us until then.”

You fixed your position on the sofa, your eyes never leaving Wanda. It was the first time Wanda really opened up to you, a story and a background you didn't know and that was showing a side of Wanda that had been unknown to you.How many times did you really talk to her? How many stories had she told you about herself?

Why did you fall in love with her?

Why were you still in love with her?

“He was really tough on me, Pietro would get away with almost anything until the first bombs were heard in the outskirts of the city.” This time around she softened the corner of her eyes, her lips twitching upwards, “he was so mad he wasn't allow to go to the soccer match, that he dragged me out of the house and we both tried to get to the field. We almost died that day.”

You straightened up leaning in with eyes wide open.

“You did?”

“Yes, one of the first conflicts broke out in the neighbourhood where the field was located.” Wanda made a face, “I had never been so afraid as I was at that moment.”

“What do you miss the most about Sokovia?”

The question caught Wanda by surprise, whatever shadow of war and memory dropped for a moment giving way to a different expression. 

“I loved the libraries.” 

“You did?” You chuckled watching as Wanda leaned forward all giddy telling you about the public library near her home, how the books were organised on different shelves and the sight of so many books she could get her hands on had always been so tempting she found peace and happiness in these places.

“After my parents died, I was so busy trying to survive and to make my way through the world with Pietro I just forgot about it.” Wanda lowered her face, her eyes on the floor. “I was angry, lost and afraid…then, Hydra came and I didn't want to be a victim anymore.”

You purse your lips remembering those first days in which you met Wanda. An angry and dark teenager that was angry at the world for everything that had happened to her.

“I guess it must have been hard to see Pietro again.” You said all of a sudden, Wanda nodded curtly tears forming in her eyes.

“It was hard seeing everyone, everything I could have but…”

“We don't know if we could have.” You finished placing the mug on the table, tilting your head, your eyes focused on the window, glancing at the world outside. “I guess things could have been different, perhaps worse…”

“Or better.” Wanda followed your eyes to the window, it was raining with some snowflakes swirling around.

You shrugged, lowering your eyes to the watch on your wrist. It was past midday, lunch was already being served back in the main temple and your stomach was protesting from the lack of food. 

“You could stay.” Wanda proposed following your stare to the outside, you teared your eyes from the window glancing at Wanda that was blushing lightly. “I mean, it is raining and the main temple must be full, and it is so far and…”

Wanda gasped tensing when your hand fell upon yours, your lips broke into an easy smile. 

“I was thinking the same, but perhaps you have something to eat? I'm starving.”

The change Wanda had was almost surprising, her whole face lit up and she stood right away stretching her hand towards you. You glanced at her hand, then at the grin adorning her face before taking her hand in yours standing up and letting her guide you through the small cabin.

“Oh, you're in for a huge surprise, I've been dying to show these new recipes to someone but…” Wanda trailed off, her enthusiasm almost diminishing until you squeezed her hand smiling encouragingly at her.

“I've been on my own in this place ever since I came here. Not many are very open to share a conversation with me.”

“Why's that?” You inquired frowning lightly, Wanda shrugged looking away from you.

“They are afraid of my powers and…how powerful I am.”

Silence followed her words, but soon there was no more conversation needed it as you two reached a small kitchenette located at the back of the cabin. Wanda pointed to a dinning chair near the island counter, her happy smile was back on making sure you were seated before she started working around.

“You really are excited about this.” You commented chuckling lightly, your cheeks burning when the other woman winked at you, carefree and grinning.

“I just…” she bit her lower lip, her eyes glancing everywhere but at you, “I'm just happy I'm not alone, that I have someone to cook for.”

Wanda turned quickly busying herself with the past and the knives putting the food from a cupboard and a fridge.

“When did you learn to cook?” You asked resting your elbows on the counter, your eyes never left the form of Wanda observing the tension on her shoulders, or listening to the trembling on her voice.

“When we have to go on the run…after Lagos.” 

“Those were difficult times,” you recalled the conflict and the drama, Natasha trying to balance her public life with her life as a spy, then Steve and Tony arguing like children while the world divided itself without any reason.

“You signed the treaty, though.” 

“I did but it didn't matter.” You cocked your head, smiling as the other woman scowled openly at your words. “They needed the idea of control, and that's what we did. But they never got a chance to actually controlled us, our abilities and the danger that has always lurked in the dark wouldn't allow them to actually have any control. Or power.”

Wanda opened her mouth ready to argue your position, she had been at the other end of the conflict being accused of horrible crimes while being called names that had broken her at some point.

You softened your stance, sympathy showing in your eyes.

“It was different for you, wasn't it?”

“Everyone thinks I'm a monster.” She replied flatly, “I'm starting to think they are right.”

It was not only Lagos, it was Edinburgh and Sokovia, it was her working for Hydra and then coming back from the snap with anger and sadness in her heart. It wasn't easy for her, and you were just taking noticed of the external factors that had pushed Wanda over the edge on more than one occasion.

“You're not a monster.” Your replied was supposed to be encouraging but your voice hardened this statement, you winced noticing the hurt flash crossing her green eyes.

“I guess it doesn't matter anymore.” Wanda turned around busying herself with the food. “I'm here now, away from everyone I could ever hurt, trying to just control myself and learn more about my powers.

Alone.

She didn't say it, but for you the word resounded perfectly after her statement. Soon after all conversation died and the only sounds were those of Wanda moving around the kitchen preparing the lunch she had been so eager to show you moments ago.

A little restlessly, you stood up walking around the kitchenette taking noticed of the appliances as well as the actual construction of the cabin. The place was at the outskirts of a temple that had exist before any civilization had a chance to flourish. Your sight lifted to the mountain chains hovering above the valley, the dark clouds of a storm along with the drops of water covered the plain making the resto of the world invisible to prying eyes. The cabin was on the perfect spot for anyone to disappear for a while.

You turned around observing the furniture and the few things that were Wanda's. You took notice of the books, and the notebooks, her clothes and her blankets, the shoes on the floor and the pictures on the coffee table. With some trepidation, you approached the table, your eyes going wide open as they fell on the picture right on the top.

It was a picture of you and her.

You two were younger, the smiles and the closeness were evidence of what was starting to happen between the both of you. It had been a happy moment, right before the both of you escaped the watchful eye of Tony, Steve and Natasha and went out of your way to have fun and find so much needed love.

“I love that picture.” Wanda appeared out of nowhere, you jerked around finding her standing by a cabinet, her eyes far away submerged in memories. “That day you went out of your way to make me laugh, to try and make me happy…it was…”

“After your birthday.” You mumbled, smiling softly while approaching her. “I remembered.”

You stood right in front of her, the heat from her body comforting the cold ess in yours. Her eyes filled with uncertainty and hopefulness, your heart shrank at the scene wanting nothing more than to give in. Wanda wrapped her left hand around her right forearm, tension growing around you two…waiting…

“Lunch is ready.” Wanda was the first one to break the silence, the tension broke with a splash of cold water and soon there was only awkwardness.

“Good, I'm starving.” You declared touching your abdomen, Wanda smiled nodding to the kitchen.

“I…I hope you like it.” She stated stepping back an dreading you back, whatever was happening, whatever was about to happen put to a rest while you and Wanda tricked yourselves into denial.

—-----------------------

The rest of the afternoon went by without any major incident, Wanda was afraid to ask about your life but you didn't need any questions since the silence was becoming unbearable. With some select stories, you told Wanda what you had done ever since you left the Avengers, you told her about the many adventures and those tragic events that had surrounded your life. She had filled in the spaces with her own stories, but the strained that had been growing since lunch was still there lurking and waiting to explode.

You stretched out tilting your head to see the rain had stopped and the night was filled with stars and a bright, silver moon. 

“I think I should go.” You mumbled but did not make any attempt to move from your spot.

Wanda followed your eyes, biting her lower lip.

“It's late.” She stated with some hesitation, “you could…you could stay the night. I mean, the walk to the main temple is long and in this darkness could be dangerous, and it was raining so …”

“You do know that I can moved through the shadows once I know where I am going, right?” You replied amusedly, Wanda blushed opening and closing her mouth.

“Yes, yes of course I know, I…” Wanda trailed off, lowering her gaze.

I don't want you to go.

You nodded briefly standing up and completing your stretching routine. Your eyes never once leaving the form of Wanda.

“Then, I'll leave. We can continue this tomorrow, if you're up to it.”

“Yes!” Wanda stood up rather fast almost falling on you, she couldn't stop blushing cursing her own inadequacy and cowardice. “I mean, that would be nice.”

“We could train and you can show me what you have learnt in here so far “

“Sure, that would be…nice.” Wanda bounced lightly wanting to say something else but unable to do so.

You turned around but, right before you were consumed by your shadows you leaned in placing a single kiss on Wanda's cheeks.

“Have a good night, Little Witch.”

You left and Wanda was left frozen on the spot, her face warm with a single hand brushing against the spot you had just kissed. With some hesitation, she wrapped her arms around herself and went to bed, thoughts of you dancing inside her head. There was just a single thought tormenting her, and it was the question that kept her most of the night awake.

What was going on with you and that sudden visit?

_____________

What Wanda thought would be a couple of days turned into a couple of weeks.

The questions tormenting her mind never stopped, but she didn't dare to voice any of them for fear of breaking the status quo of her relationship with you. Idhe was happy with what she could get, even if that meant she would think about it at night unable to sleep wondering just what the hell was happening or why you were there. She would remember your smile, your words, the conversations that made her laughed or know the Y/N she had missed all those years; and then she would turn around put her knees to her chest and let herself feel the twist of her heart thinking of the cruel torture that was seeing you and not being able to be with you.

It was difficult, but Wanda was just happy with what she could get from you. 

“You have to lift your arm…yes, just like that.” 

Your voice and the soft touch of your arms broke Wanda's thoughts, she felt her cheeks colouring red at the closeness of your body, the sweet torment of your warm breath on her ear.

“There you go, let's do it slowly. First learn this form before channelling the energy.”

You smiled satisfied when the young woman followed your instructions, Wanda had been distracted in the last couple of days and her frustration had grown to the point she was always tense when trying to follow up your instructions. You stepped back watching before joining her with your own exercises, taking a deep breath while enjoying the silence that echoed through the valley.

“When did you learn all of this?” Wanda huffed tiredly, she turned around to see the teasing smirk dancing on your lips. “This is…difficult.”

You shrugged, finishing the final movement before scratching the back of your head, you step closer to Wanda standing right in front of her. It was easy to see when her breath caught in her throat, how her eyes dilated and the muscles of her body tense completely. Your heart shivered lightly, your arms stretching with the palms of your hands turned to her, Wanda furrowed her brows watching as you joined her hands with yours.

“I was angry at the world, violent and a little confused when Natasha first took me in,” you explained, never looking away from Wanda while your hands alongside hers lifted and started a new form of Tai Chi. 

“This technique gave me peace, but it wasn't until I left the Avengers that I realised I need to really learn about my powers.” You furrowed your brows, the memories breaking inside your mind, Wanda couldn't look away her heart leaping intensely while her body submitted herself to you.

“This helps me understand the shadows and the darkness inside my heart, besides…” your smirk grew, your eyes gleaming mischievously, “it is giving me an opportunity to be close to you, right?”

Wanda couldn't help the blush growing on her face, nor the smile that showed on her lips. You chuckled, leading her for at least fifteen more minutes before the training session was over. 

The morning had been cold, and the rain had become a constant occurrence in the time you had been in Nepal. That morning had been not an exception, and by the time the training had been over your clothes were completely drenched; you made a face grabbing your jacket and the boots while looking around for your backpack. The downside of coming all the wat to where Wanda was staying was precisely that your stuff was all in the room up in the main building.

Wanda could see your hesitation and annoyance, your eyes going from one piece of clothing to the other while your hand massaged the back of your neck. The young witch chewed on her lower lip, thinking on how to proceed before stepping closer her hand placing tenderly on your shoulder.

You turned around tilting your head while furrowing your eyes, Wanda offered a tentative smile nodding to the cabin.

“I have hot water and some spare clothes, it you don’t mind.” She said tentatively, “that way you don’t have to go all the way to the temple and…well, you…you can finally take my offer of staying here.”

You pressed your lips together thinking over the offer, you hadn’t dared to tell Wanda that night would be the last one you would stay in Nepal. That day you had planned to finally have a serious conversation with her right before leaving; the last couple of weeks had been amazing and you had given in normality instead of facing the real issue that had brought you all the way to Kamar-Taj.

“I mean, you don’t have to and if you want…” Wand started babbling waving her hands while trying to hide her nervousness, you realised you had taken far too long to answer her and she was now trying to cover up for something that might not be what you wanted.

“Hey, that’s okay I was just…” You hesitated straightening up, the same nervous gesture of your hand at the nape of your neck present, “look…I just think we must talk.”

“Oh.” Wanda stepped back placing her left hand on her right elbow, her face fell only to change into a grimace that she tried to make look natural, “right, I mean you have Natasha and Yelena, and America is there and…and Carol. Right I just, I thought…”

Whatever Wanda thought got tangle in her throat as she found herself mere inches away from you, your hands had been placed tenderly on her hips and you were trying to catch her eyes in your to make sure that whatever you were going to say was not lost in misunderstanding.

“I have to go back, yes.” You started taking care of the words you were using, “Natasha and Yelena got news of something unusual happening in France and wanted my help, America is still at school so I have to make sure everything is arranged and Carol…”

A swift breeze formed around them, Wanda was frowning crunching up her nose while her eyes gleamed a single flash of red. She stepped back lifting her hand when you tried to approach her.

“I know, I get it. I never expected you to stay longer than…than what you should, I mean I don’t even know why you came here.” Wanda finally said looking away from you not really understanding what was happening, but hating the fact she was feeling so heartbroken.

“Wanda…” you started but the redhead shook her head breaking into a sad smile.

“Go take a bath and I will prepare the clothes and something to eat then, we can talk.”

You opened your mouth only to close it again nodding curtly.

“Okay.”

Without looking back at you or saying anything else Wanda turned around and left you alone feeling the coldness of the morning now more than ever.

_________________________

The sound of the shower filled your ears while the warm contact of the water heated your skin. You closed your eyes, your hands working on the knots on your back and arms moving through your shoulders and your neck whatever place you could reach. Your body was letting go of the tension, but your mind and heart were deeply tormented by what had happened in the last couple of weeks.

You had come to Nepal with a single goal in mind.

Seeing Wanda after almost five months had brought back all the love you thought you had stopped feeling for her. On that first day you had thought of just talk about what had happened and her letter, but things didn’t turn out the way you expected them and, as the days passed by you realised the conversation could wait as long as you had a chance to pretend that Wanda and you were okay.

Wanda had set up the food in the small living room, she had a laptop set up while a mug of hot chocolate rested in her hands. Her face lifted in your direction, her eyes were swollen and her cheeks were red, the smile she gave you was one of pure sadness and the sight alone broke your heart.

You approached her taking the spot beside her on the sofa, the table had been filled with another cup of hot chocolate, bread and some cheese.

“I thought you may be hungry as well, and I just thought well you told me you haven’t watched this movie and Strange got it for me under illegal circumstances.”

It was a silent offering that you took with a smile, you sat down grabbing the chocolate.

“I bet he did, don’t worry Tony has a specific program for this kind of activities as well,” You fixed your position on the sofa.

Wanda pulled on her blanket, a huge dark blue fleece she had bought on her way out of Norway. She stretched out making sure your legs were covered, her warm breath so close to your face that it sent shivers down your back.

“I just thought if this is going to be my last day with you, I would love to spend it like this.” She whispered, chewing on her lower lip before sitting closer to you.

“It is not your last day with me, Wanda.” You replied lowering your gaze furrowing your brows. “You left with a goodbye and a letter that left me confused.”

“It was not my intention.” Wanda leaned back, she was hoping for the conversation to not take place to perhaps evade the inevitable heartbreak but it seemed as if you were decided to continue without any consideration.

“I wrote that because…” Wanda brushed her hair shrugging, “I never thought I will meet with you again, Y/N, and the circumstances of this meeting make me face my past, and what I lost, what I could have.”

“You weren’t the only one, Wanda.” Your voice dropped shaking your head, “I never thought I will see you again, but when I did…”

“Why did you come here, Y/N?” Wanda finally dared to ask afraid of the answer but far to eager to know, to finally understand what had happened in the last couple of weeks.

You were looking straight ahead, your thoughts twirling around in a maze of uncertainties. Leaning to your right, you found Wanda was just as confused and nervous as you were feeling at the moment.

“I never stopped loving you.” You confessed unable to look away from those green eyes, “I tried several times to just forget and ripped away my love for you.”

Wand winced her heart clenching inside her chest at those words.

“But I couldn’t and then…” You snorted shaking your head. “Then everything happened, you come back and I just…”

“I love you.” Wanda whispered, her lips quivering and her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “I never stopped and it hurts so much knowing that I messed up so big that you…I don’t pretend you want to be with me, and I know after everything things are…”

“Confusing.” You cut in; you took a deep breath before glancing back at Wanda.

Silence fell afterwards, the tension built like an invisible force that was threatening to explode in the outcomes Wanda was afraid of. It wasn’t until that moment that she understood she had been afraid to know the answer to her question, why were you there could have many responses, but Wanda had only written two possibilities: a possible friendship, or give Wanda a chance.

Both outcomes were equally terrifying, and the silence coming from you was the most disturbing thing for her.

Wanda opened her mouth to speak but the words tangled in her throat, you had shifted your position coming closer to her the back of your hand caressing her face and your eyes, those eyes that months ago had looked at her with hatred and anger, were now looking at her with tenderness and confusion. There was something else in there but Wanda was afraid to put a label on it, hope could be such a fragile emotion.

“I thought about your words, Wanda, I haven’t been able to rest since you left.” You furrowed your brows your hand moving away but your face coming closer to Wanda’s. “Tell me, what should I do?”

Wanda found herself lost in your eyes; her throat completely dry while her heart leaped painfully on her chest. Her abdomen filled with butterflies while she tried to find the right words to answer your question.

“I came here because I needed to see you, because I missed you.” You confessed your words hitting Wanda straight in her heart. “But the real reason, Little Witch, is because I don’t want to lose you. Not again. Not anymore. So, tell me, Little Witch, what should I do?”

Time stood still.

Wanda was still trying to process your words, her heart beating really fast with her mind wrapping around what you just said. She could feel your warm breath on her face, the smell of her shampoo on your hair and the sweet scent of chocolate on your breath. Wanda had waited far too long for to give her a chance and now that the opportunity was here she was afraid.

“You…You could stay with me.” Wanda whispered cringing at her response, thinking herself an idiot for not being straightforward.

You snorted shaking your head, Wanda was afraid to see anger or disappointment, but when you put two fingers under her chin and lifted her face slowly all she could see was amusement and…love.

“Whatever you want, Little Witch.”

The nickname rolled out of you sending shivers down Wanda’s back, something shifted at that moment but Wanda wasn’t sure what it was; but even though she was afraid and unsure, she leaned in closing the distance melting as soon as her lips touched yours.

It was like the first time you two kissed.

Tentative and timid, a single touch of lips moulding to the other with trembling hands holding you to Wanda. You missed this feeling so much, her soft lips, the taste that was purely Wanda, how she just gave in without thinking too much; the world fade away and the only person that existed was Wanda.

The kiss broke too fast for you liking, Wanda rested her forehead against yours tears rolling down her cheeks.

“What so you want, Wands?” you asked softly, your hand caressing her cheek and face.

Wanda fluttered her eyes closed leaning into your touch.

“If this is our last day, I just want to be with you.” Wanda’s eyes opened wide, her cheeks burn an intense red while you wiggle your brows teasingly.

“My, Wanda, but give us at least another cup of chocolate.” You chuckled when she slapped you playfully on the shoulder.

“I didn’t mean… I just …ugh, would you stop it?” Wanda tried to hold back her laughter, but with you looking at her amused was kind of difficult.

“You have a dirty mind.”

“You’re the one with the dirty mind, I just said I want to be with you.” She retorted rolling her eyes but without getting away from your closeness.

“So movie and some snuggles?” You inquired fixing your position on the sofa, Wanda nodded playing the movie while crawling to you.

“This is not going to be our last day, Little Witch.”

“I know.” Wanda said with a flash of doubt crossing her green eyes, you wished there was something else you could tell her but for now your words should be enough. “Can we…watch the movie?”

“Whatever you want, Little Witch.”

You moved on your back, putting the movie while letting Wanda decided where she would rest. It didn’t take her took long to crawl to you resting her weight on your body cuddling closer with her eyes turned to the screen her ear placed tenderly on your chest hearing the beatings of your heart. Wanda sighed contentedly when your own arms wrapped protectively around her, and at that moment she knew she was falling in love with you again and this time around things would be different.

______________________________________________________________

Next Chapter: You meet with Wanda once more, this time around a different place and a different, as the world continues its existance you and Wanda are finally giving one another a chance to live. America gets in some trouble, Yelena brings back up, and Natasha can believe she is ready for retirement.

[lokativa]

People calling Hobie×Miles (punkflower) shippers proshippers as if we didn't ship them for longer than the movie even came out will always be crazy to me.

I've seen lots of people sending threats, or reporting people because they made punkflower, goldenflower (pavxhobie), ghostbyte (gwenxmargo), flowerbyte (margoxmiles), etc, arts or videos. Going to assume that it isn't because most of these ships are POCs ships, there's just literally no point to do that.

First of all, there's no confirmation of hobie's age. If ur basing urself of that one interview, then it was of the CONCEPT of hobie, and even so remember it was only one person who said it. Its heavily implied thats he's a teenager throughout the movie. (Also in the art book, its said that he's slightly older than Miles).

For the thing about him going to the pub and all, minors can and will go in pubs, (not saying that its always legal) are yall living under a rock or just dense on purpose? Teenagers do wtv the fuck they want, even when theyre not allowed to. Youre all going to tell me teenagers respect the rules of not drinking and go to clubs becuz theyre underage? Come off it. Also hobie literally merked his president and u think he'd draw the line at drinking alcohol as a minor? HA.

Aside from that, to be fair to everyone, the directors keeps on changing what they're saying about hobies age, one day they'll say and imply he's a minor and the next second say he's an adult. It's like they all have different idea of this character's age. So, nothing is really comfimed, and his age is really up to interpretation.

Now that we're past THAT point, the other kind of people talking about his age are people saying "oh but he looks old" "that man is most definitely 30yo" "there's no way he's underage" things of the sort, u get it. And I'm just over here like??? Why is it impossible for you to think that this guy could be a teen? Is it the air? The wrinkles? What makes it seem like for you that there's no way he could be around the other teens' age? And 30??? Cmon. People often assume black people are older than they look, which is a universal experience for all of us. Did none of u ever see a blk teen who doesnt have a baby face? Because thats literally what hobie looks like to me. To others we can seem too "mature" for our age, or just look too "old" to be the age we say we are, so is it really impossible for him to be a teenager? Think about it.

(Speaking of him being black, this discourse turned into some kind of racist thing that honestly was not unexpected at all. Yall come over here shitting on people talking and educating u about a character they relate to cuz hes like them, and the representation is making them go bonkers. I don't know why yall can just sit ur arses and listen for a bit, its not that difficult tbh. And dont get me started on the mischaracterisation of his character. Marking him as "an angry black man"? Really? Be. Fucking. Original.)

Same goes with Margo?? Yeah in the comics she's in college, but cmon now u guys know damn well she's a teenager in atsv😭. Gwen is also much older in the comics but i never see anyone talk about it, so what does that mean???The only reasons I can see that you all don't want Miles & margo to be together is because you're all stuck on the milesxgwen ship. News everyone, other ships exist, not everyone is going to like the same ships as you, so either move on or stop being on the Internet.

Also, the thing about pav being 13 is bonkers, where'd u even get that from? I need to know asap. "Oh, but he has a gf!" Yeah? Well he has two hands. (Idk why u all act as if that has ever stopped anyone)

Everything just seem like a race thing to me tbh.

The movies might be inspired from the comics, but not everything is going to be 100% the same. For exemple: gwen is 2 yrs older than Miles in the comics, but in movies she's only 15 months older, Jess Drew is white in the comics and black in the movie, Miguel O'hara is white passing in the comics, compared to his version in atsv where he has brown skin, lyla's disign is also different.

You get it? Things are going to differ as much as things are going to be the same, because (get ready!!) this is the multiverse! Just as earth-616 is just one universe in all the marvel comics, atsv is another universe.

All in all, im not saying u can't view them as adults, or wtv u want, thats ur interpretation, but don't go around being pissy at people around u cuz they have different point of views.

[kinardsevan]

Okay, prompt. Tommy and Buck are having slow shifts and one of them decides to call the other.

consider this as existing in the same timeline as to can’t outdrive pain (someday it’s gonna take the wheel)

we survive

Tommy sighs, pushing a piece of paper across the table.

“Riley, you have to at least try to make your art not be derogatory,” he states in a gentle but firm tone. “Miss Sidney isn’t going to let this fly.”

Riley rolls his eyes, tossing a conte crayon onto the table. Charcoal scatters as it cracks in half, and the teenager crosses his arms. Tommy frowns, reaching out for the crayon and setting it back inside the box he’d brought with him.

He’s no stranger to Riley’s moods six months into this endeavor. What had begun as a way to fill some time after breaking his elbow and having to miss weeks of work has become part of his weekly ritual now, occasionally twice a week when he can swing the extra time. Evan has joined him a number of times when the time off has lined up, but today he’s alone.

Riley Collins was almost sixteen and had a rough background, one Tommy could relate to only too well. His mom had died when he was three, and he was left with an alcoholic father who cared so little that at seven, he’d been found digging in a neighbors trash can for food. That had begun the teen’s childhood in foster care, but it hadn’t been the end of it. He’d cycled through multiple foster homes with while struggling with attachment issues. There was a year-long period when Riley was eleven where his father had gotten sober, regained custody, and things seemed like they might get better. Except, Riley had been the ringer by that point. He’d lived in homes with emotional and verbal abuse. He’d seen parents hit each other, and occasionally hit the children. He’d seen sexual abuse through the tiny window of where his blankets didn’t completely cover his eyes when cries of his foster siblings woke him in the middle of the night. He’d faced some of those situations himself, and by the time he cycled back into his fathers home, he wasn’t the same little kid who had learned to become self-sufficient when his father was lost to the bottle.

Either way, Riley’s father made it six months before his sobriety with Riley back home went to hell. There was a DWI, and then an occurrence where Riley showed up to school with a black eye and bloodied nose. Then he was locked out of the house. CPS was still so involved at that point that he was quickly placed back in foster care, but the writing was on the wall at that point. Even though he’d been placed with a family with good values, he was a mess. There were stolen things, broken possessions, a flirtation with breaking the law. Ultimately though, it was a full-on brawl he got into with an uncle which led to his placement in the group home. And the thing was, he was a great student. He could stay invested in his school work and the routine it required without a problem. But when it came to people…he was a mess.

Tommy couldn’t help but reflect that back to his own childhood.

“This is so fucking lame anyway,” Riley bemoans.

Tommy raises an eyebrow at him. “Really? You seemed to think it was cool three days ago.”

“What the fuck do you know, old man,” Riley replies, scowling at him. He shoves away from the table, and Sidney is up out of her chair quickly, already calling after him, but Tommy raises a hand to her.

“Let me go,” he tells her softly. Their group is usually a bit bigger, but with school being back in session, half of them have signed up for extracurriculars, so there’s only three today, and Sidney has the other two pretty well covered with whatever they’re drawing.

She looks at him with a hint of apprehension, but then nods, settling back into her chair.

Tommy picks up his sketchbook and moves around the table, walks out the back door toward a picnic table where Riley is pushing a stick into the aged wood, trying to peel a piece of loose long grain with it. He dares a glance up at Tommy and then sighs, looking back down at the table.

“Hey kid. You wanna tell me what that was all about,” he asks, crossing the space between them but still staying a few feet away.

Riley huffs but doesn’t answer as he keeps pushing at the picnic table with the stick. Tommy frowns, taking a few more steps forward and sitting down on the opposite side of the table. He reaches into the pocket of his shirt and pulls out a tin of Altoid Sours. He pops one in his mouth and then offers one to Riley. When the kid doesn’t immediately take one, Tommy rests the tin on the table between them.

“You know, I used to make a lot of really violent art,” Tommy states. “Still have some of it. Drawings of people getting stabbed, gunshot wounds.”

“Bet Miss Sidney would love to hear that right now,” Riley states sarcastically.

Tommy shrugs. “Probably not. But it was how I dealt. Especially with the people who hurt me when I was your age.” He flips his sketchbook back to the front before setting in front of Riley on the table. The first few pages have older, yellowed paper taped in. It’s been crumpled and some of it is shredded, but Riley looks up at it, skims over the images. He sets the stick down and flips a page over as something that looks suspiciously like comic paneling tells the story of a child and his abusive father. He watches the way Riley runs his fingers over the paper, touches the images.

“What do you know about abuse anyway, old man,” Riley murmurs softly, anger still present in his voice.

“More than you’d think, kid,” Tommy replies. When the teen looks up at him, Tommy raises an eyebrow at him. “First of all, I wasn’t always this built or lean. And me at thirteen, on the huskier side and gay? That didn’t go over all that well in my home.”

Riley doesn’t let on his emotional response to Tommy’s explanation, but he keeps flipping through the pages in the sketchbook. A drawing of a war zone. Drawings of mass military graves. Dog tags. Bloodied fists with colored pastels.

“Least you got out,” Riley comments after a few minutes of silence. “Had someone to help.”

Tommy gives a haughty laugh. “I went to the military to get out. I didn’t have anyone waiting at home if I made it back from Iraq. Everything I’ve done, I’ve had to do on my own.”

There’s still a scowl on Riley’s face, but the ire seems to sink out of it as he listens to Tommy.

“I was not cool when I came back, either,” he adds. “I was really shitty to people I now consider friends. Spent a lot of years alone because I couldn’t figure out how to just connect with people.”

“Least you found people who wanted you around,” Riley grumbles, his voice still soft, like he doesn’t actually want Tommy to hear him. “I got two years.”

Tommy sighs. He’s not sure whether saying something is a good idea. There are still too many what ifs and probabilities for him to be sure.

“You know, Evan and I have been talking to Miss Sidney,” he states in a quiet tone. Riley finally reaches out and takes one of the altoids, pops it into his mouth. His eyes slowly raise, though he doesn’t look directly at Tommy. “But we can’t do anything if you keep showing this kind of attitude in program. They won’t consider it a good placement.”

Riley’s brown eyes meet his then, his sandy blonde hair half hanging in them. He stares at Tommy with a bewildered expression.

“Hailey is-..”

Tommy shakes his head, cutting Riley off. Of course the kid would think they’d want a young child. “Hailey doesn’t fit in our home. She’s six. She needs a mom.”

“Dakota-“

“Doesn’t like fire trucks,” Tommy comments, in reference to another one of the younger kids.

Riley looks up at him, brow furrowed. “Shouldn’t you two want a baby?”

Tommy lets out a small laugh. “Do you know how long the adoption process is for an infant? Never mind surrogacy.” He can’t help the warmth in his chest at the fact that for all of Riley’s questions, the idea of living in a house with two men in a committed (carnal) relationship isn’t one of them.

Riley is quiet again for a few moments as he closes Tommy’s sketchbook and places it back on the table.

“I age out in 798 days,” he mutters.

Tommy takes a breath and shrugs again. “Well. I guess that leaves us roughly twenty-two thousand more to have you around with us, five of take a few thousand,” he states. “You know, if you want to.”

Riley looks up at him through his eyelashes with an expression that’s trying suspiciously not to reflect any kind of hope. Tommy recognizes it from the one he had when he’d been told he was going back to live with his father at thirteen. He narrows his gaze slightly as he reaches out for his sketchbook.

“You know, Evan makes a mean shepherd’s pie,” he comments, sliding the book back over. “I could probably get him to whip one up tonight. He’s supposed to be off shift soon.”

“T-tonight,” Riley stammers.

“Only if you want to,” Tommy replies. “And if you apologize in front of Miss Sidney. I kinda promised her you’d be a good fit and you’re making me look bad right now.”

The slightest bit of an upturn happens at the corners of Riley’s mouth. Tommy nods, reaching out for the altoids tin. He closes it and pops it back in his pocket.

. . .

Hours later, in the silence of their home, Evan rests his chin on Tommy’s shoulder as they stand in the doorway of what they expect to become Riley’s bedroom. The teen is sprawled across the Queen-sized bed and a pillow that Tommy finds to be suspiciously similar to one from his and Evan’s bed is wrapped tightly in the teen’s arms.

“Dare I say, he’s a little attached to us,” Evan whispers to Tommy.

Tommy chuckles, pointing up to the T-shirts tacked up to a cork board on the wall. “That was his idea.”

Both shirts are worn and faded, one from the 118 and the other from Harbor. The vinyl is half-peeled from the shirts, and only the outline of Tommy’s last name remains on the shirt that belonged to him from how much use it’s seen.

“Who would’ve thought he’d like us that much,” Evan jokes. He tilts his head, resting his cheek on Tommy’s shoulder.

“I think he feels seen. Understood,” Tommy murmurs back. He takes a breath, looking down at Evan. “He asked if he could take both last names.”

Evan smiles wearily at Tommy. “He can have whatever he wants.”

Tommy lets out a soft chuckle, although he stiffens when Riley moves on the bed, only to settle a few seconds later with a contented sigh.

“And this is why you’re not in charge of the budget right now,” he comments. “He’ll have you talked into a car and three gaming systems in under twenty-four hours.”

Evan scowls at Tommy, turns his head and bites his shoulder. Tommy grunts softly, turning toward him. He pushes Evan gently out of the room, across the hall into their bedroom, easing the door shut quietly.

“Let’s not traumatize the kid on his first night home,” he states, framing Evan’s face with his hands before he dives in for a heated kiss. Evan moans softly into his mouth, fisting Tommy’s shirt.

“Well then, I guess you’re just gonna have to drown me out with the shower,” Evan replies, tugging Tommy back towards the en-suite.

And he does.

[8-rae-rae-8]

CW: Referenced/implied abuse, past abuse, thoughts of worthlessness, unconventional self harm. AgeRe content.

Simon who gets tense around people who don't hurt him. Throughout his whole life, even when he was safe bouncing around squads in the military, people roughed him up. Insults, punches, mocks. No matter his size, attitude or status. So when the 141 doesn't do it, he waits. He waits thinking they will eventually, waiting for the other shoe to drop. The most they do with him is spar or tease him about things that don't hurt. They don't go for his soft spots. He doesn't understand why they don't want to hurt him, he doesn't get that it's because they care.

So he tries first. Why won't they fight back with more than a snort and a pat on the shoulder? Why don't they argue?

Price doesn't show more than a slight sadness about Simon's attempts to get someone to hurt him. He pulls out the only thing he thinks will do anything. The mama voice. He can't fight with Simon, not when he can see that Simon feels soft. Breakable.

Fragile.

Why is Price so gentle when he sits him down? Called him in there with his title anyways. This was it, right? They'll fight, like he's been wanting. To prove what? That he doesn't deserve softness? That he's bad like Roba and his father instilled in him?

But Price doesn't yell. He sits in front of Simon on his desk and talks to him. How can he feel safe and threatened at the same time? Was it Price's gaze or his stance? Was it how he was so obviously the weaker of the two, or the hands that would pick him back up that made him feel that way? Price couldn't get angry and hurt him, but he doesn't. He's slow, patient and kind. Something Simon is hardly used to. His heart squeezes in his chest.

The mama voice is what makes Simon tear up. He's not being scolded, but it still feels so firm. Not mean, but with an edge to it. He looked down at his hands. Bad. Unworthy. Rude.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you." His mother and father would say. But Price softens as he looks at Simon.

"We don't have to talk now, Ghost." Ever so gentle with how he handles Simon. Respecting his wishes to not say his name but Simon ached to hear it out of his Captain's mouth. To hear his name softly said, without anger or malice. Especially without the slur of alcohol consumption.

"Are you going to get rid of me, Sir?" Simon's voice breaks. When Price pauses, his shoulders tense. Is this it? Is he done with him?

"Simon..." There it is. His name a soft sound on Price's lips. Warm, coated in concern. Don't leave. Don't leave. Please don't go.

"We're a team. No one gets left behind." Words Simon would later repeat to Johnny in the los vaqueros safe house.

"Why?" Simon questions. He hears the slight pained sound Price makes as he asks. I'm sorry. Don't go.

"We don't want to leave you... You're stuck with us." Price tries to be light-hearted, but stops when Simon frowns behind the mask. So expressive, usually when he doesn't want to be.

"I'm sorry." Sorry for what? Being argumentative? Being distressed?

...Being?

"Hey," Price crouches down next to him, following the way Simon's eyes dart to look anywhere but him, "You didn't do anything wrong." Gentle, guiding him like a child.

He felt like a child. Small. Weak. Breakable.

He hasn't heard anyone say it was okay before. No one comforted him like that. Not as a kid. Not as a teen. Not with his superiors. Because it hadn't been okay. Because he did do bad things.

And now he wasn't bad, it was okay. His mind didn't know how to deal with that.

Simon flinches as Price's hand rests on his knee.

"Simon, you're okay here. What can I do?"

Simon shakes his head. What could Price possibly do? Hold him? Tell him it was okay until it felt like it was? Let him cry it out like a kid? God he felt like a kid. Smaller and smaller the more Price talked.

He'd seen Johnny and Kyle small around him, but never let himself break. He always left as soon as he could. Now he wonders if it hurt them when he left so fast.

"'m sorry." The words come out faster, broken in the syllables. Forced and rushed. Will the other shoe drop?

"I know, Si, I know..." Price murmurs, looking up at him from his crouched position. It can't be comfortable, but neither comment.

Simon wants to fall forward into his arms the longer he looks at him so sweetly. Like Simon wasn't damaged goods. Like he was just as small as Kyle and Johnny. He feels smaller.

"Help..." He weakly mutters. He says it on the off chance that this won't hurt. That he'll be okay.

And Price doesn't leave, he promises to stay and help. Never pushing further than Simon wanted to go. He waited till he was okay to hold hands, then waited till he was okay being picked up. Then until he let himself cry. Price didn't have to work hard to notice just how small Simon made himself, how easy he could break. Simon, not Ghost. Price vowed to protect him once the sobs died down and Simon fell asleep on his chest. There in his office, on the couch in an uncomfortable position. Like he was a cat, Price didn't go anywhere.

Price gains another little that day, but he didn't bring it up until Simon came to him. Until Simon needed his help again. It's all on his time, Price doesn't push. He's the most giddy he ever had been when Simon crawls into bed with him and falls asleep safely. Cooing in his sleep. Price hadn't felt that happy before about being needed. Simon came to him for comfort. For safety. He holds it to the highest honour.

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 9: Empty Rescue

his and mine are the same | @cascigarette Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,510 Main Tags/Warnings: Post Canon Fix-It, Dean Winchester Has Abandonment Issues, Alcohol, First Kiss, Newly Human Castiel, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel and Dean Winchester Use their Words Summary: Dean rescues Cas from the Empty. They end up having to talk about that final confession.

Two lesbians, two bicons, and their cat walk into super turbohell | @nuttysaladtree Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2,038 Main Tags/Warnings: crossover with She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, the Empty, Fix-it, first kiss Summary: And they bury one person and zero gays. 15x20 "Carry On" finale fix-it that Castiel deserves. Mentioned Bow/Glimmer. Sam Winchester shows up, too, as well as the OTP Dean x pie. Melog is best kitty, and good riddance to the Empty/Shadow/Cosmic Entity and Horde Prime.

sometimes you just don't know the answer (wait for me) | @cassiecasyl Rating: General Word Count: 7,992 Main Tags/Warnings: Canonical Character Death, Episode: s15e18 Despair - Castiel's Confession Scene, Grief/Mourning, Album: evermore (Taylor Swift), Grieving Dean Winchester, Episode: s15e18 Despair, Alternate Ending, Inspired by Orpheus and Eurydice (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Reunion, Castiel in the Empty (Supernatural), Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Angst, Hope vs. Despair, Love Confessions, Angst with a Happy Ending, Inspired by Hadestown, Song: Doubt Comes In, The Fates (Hadestown) Cameo, First Kiss, Reunions, Epic Love Summary: As Dean grieves, Jack tells them of an old story, one that has been told and sung over and over again anyway. Two lovers challenge the universe to escape death. They walk the long way home, but the one in front is not allowed to turn around for the whole way. Every entity of grand power knows this, for the pact has to be respected were it ever to be attempted again. Of course, Dean goes to find Castiel, because if anyone can do this, it's them.

Can't Stop Lovin' You | @teeparadigm67 Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 9,512 Main Tags/Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Castiel is Saved from the Empty, First Kiss, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Happy Ending, Fix-It, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, Dean Winchester Saves Castiel from the Empty Summary: On paper, the plan seemed simple. Jack opens the portal between the worlds. Dean walks into the Empty and makes it loud enough to wake the dead. Drag Cas’s feathery ass out of there. Simple, right? Cloaked in Cas’s grace, tape deck in hand with Van Halen blasting out its little speaker, he plans to bring the angel home and tell Cas all the things left unspoken between them for all these years. Now they have a chance, he can’t throw this all away. The only problem is, the Empty has other ideas. It doesn't stop Dean however, it’s his turn to be the one who drags Cas out of perdition. Inspired by: Van Halen - Can't Stop Lovin' You

Bring Me To Life | @Taymarpigeon Rating: Explicit Word Count: 10,960 Main Tags/Warnings: Post-Canon Fix-It, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gratuitous Smut, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Dean Winchester Calls Castiel "Angel", Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Castiel (Supernatural), Interrupting Sam Winchester Summary: In 2008 Dean Winchester met a man who changed everything; he says a man, Castiel Angel of the Lord was so much more than a man and not just because of the whole halo and wings thing. November 5th 2020 Castiel sacrificed himself to save Dean and by extension the world, but not before turning the hunter's life upside down one last time. In 2025 Dean was... moving on, let's put it that way. He hadn't forgotten Cas, spending the past five years trying to be all the things the Angel said he was in that teary goodbye. He put one foot in front of the other, day by day, because as Frank Devereaux once said: 'that's what you do'. This life only ends one way for most hunters though and Dean was no exception. Skip four months into the future and he's back, only this time he's done playing by the rules, done pretending his life didn't end with Cas that day in the dungeon. He's done. Time to do what he should have from the beginning...

stay | @thisisapaige Rating: Explicit Word Count: 15,073 Main Tags/Warnings: Fix-It, Post-Canon, Minor Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Light Angst, Happy Ending Summary: Standing on the bridge beside his brother, Dean looks around. Something’s wrong. Because this Heaven, this place Dean supposedly deserves, just seems so... empty.

The Little Issue with the Mission to Perdition | @amaranthhiding Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 16,460 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Universe, Post-Ep 15x19, Jack and Amara Try Fixing Things Together But Make Everything Worse (at first), Amara is Part of Team Free Will, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Temporary Major Character Death, Angst with Happy Ending, First Kiss, DCRB 2023 Summary: Chuck is defeated and his power now belongs to Jack and Amara. They struggle with adjusting to their newly-shared existence, and with big questions such as, how can (almost) all-powerful beings avoid becoming what Chuck was? What even is all that power good for when it doesn't allow Jack to save someone from the Empty who absolutely deserves being saved? Who thought it was a good idea to hand all that power to two beings who, together, have spent less years on Earth than the average human child? ...And why is there suddenly black goo everywhere?

Until the Moss Had Reached Our Lips | @alulangel Rating: Mature Word Count: 20,543 Main Tags/Warnings: Fix-It, Everybody Lives, Lake House, Saved from the Empty, Groundhog Day Loop, Castiel’s True Form, Castiel’s handprint, Creepy forests, Inappropriate use of pie Summary: After everything with Chuck went down, Dean thought he deserved some time off. Not a retirement, just a break. A little cabin by a lake. Fishing. Baking. Time to process and reflect. Except he doesn't remember exactly how he got there. And he doesn't know why he can't leave. And there's something about the woods around the cabin, creeping closer and closer and closer every day...

one working part | @mittensmorgul Rating: Explicit Word Count: 40,051 Main Tags/Warnings: Inspired by It's a Wonderful Life (1946) Episode Fix-It: s15e19 Inherit the Earth (Supernatural) Angst and Fluff and Smut POV Alternating Not Canon Compliant with Episode: s15e19 Inherit the Earth (Supernatural), Human Castiel Summary: Wherein they actually inherit the earth. Again. Because I will never be done retelling the end of their story in more sensible and satisfying ways. This time, via the power of a classic holiday film... with a slightly demonic twist.

Empty Earth (WIP) | @amaranthhiding Rating: No Rating Word Count: 102,437 Main Tags/Warnings: Post-15x18, Epic, Plotty, Angel True Forms, Consensual Possession, Enochian, Apocalypse, Rebellion in Hell, Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Witch!Sam, Destiel and Samwena, Jack & his three fathers, Crowley & Jack Summary: After Castiel's confession, Dean carries a spark of hope telling him this can't be the end. This spark is the strongest weapon for Dean, Sam and Jack in this final war. The enemy is God. The battlefield is an Earth devoid of humans, a Hell in rebellion against its queen, and a Heaven betrayed by its creator. And the stakes are everything and everyone they have ever cared about.

[hannigramislife]

for my own gratification bc i just ran into nie mingjue hate in the wild, would you mind making a post that defends my poor good boy? he worked so hard and got gaslit to shit before getting murdered terribly ;; literally everyone sat there telling him "youre being too harsh" and he's just responding appropriately. like yeah, if you witness a murder, ya kinda got to do something about that as a clan leader. its kinda your responsibility, even when you care about the person who did the murdering. he was also a really young when he took on the role of clan leader and idk, it just made me rlly sad to see people dunk on him cuz wtf he's literally just trying his best in an impossible situation WHILE being perpetually fucked over by his clan's own traditional cultivation cuz now the stronger he is as a leader, the closer he is to going literally insane and dying bc of it. (mingjue did nothing wrong i will die on this hill) ((sorry for going on a tirade, im just sad and defensive of my good boy rn))

Oh no! I'm so sorry you had to go through Nie Mingjue hate! Truly tragic. I went through that once when in the beginning of me reading the books, when I still had no proper opinions, and never again.

I'm more than willing to make a post about Nie Mingjue! I'm always down to talk about Nie Mingjue tbh, he's my heart and love and if I were to have been given the opportunity to be his right hand person, I would have simply never betrayed his trust and married him. Rip Jin Guangyao but I'm different.

Anyways, I, huhhh, actually think you?? Covered it all??? Pretty much?? Yet I will talk about it. This will be long and non-coherent, because I don't have the books rn to find quotes in them and honestly, I could write essays on Nie Mingjue either way.

Nie Mingjue is a central piece of the narrative, despite the limited amount of appearances he made, and the fact that he wasn't close to the main characters at all. The entire second part of the plot revolves around him- it happened because of him. His murder is a tragedy; literally, by greek standards, man has Cassandra Curse all over him, so I don't get how people can tell me, confidently, that his death was warranted. I've been told the man had asked for it, and this has mostly been by Jin Guangyao apologists.

So let me make something real fucking clear.

Nie Mingjue did not deserve to die. Let's get that out of the way, anyone can fight me on that. Nie Mingjue had more good qualities than half the people in this fucking story, despite his flaws. After his father was brutally murdered when Mingjue was only in his teens, Nie Mingjue stepped up as clan leader. We can only speculate the hardships that await someone leading a clan at such an early age. Yet, political challenges weren't the only thing he had to battle; Nie Mingjue knew about his clan's harmful cultivation, and he knew he was going to die young. So what did he do? His best. Literally his best, always. He was always giving 100% of his abilities, because that's who he was.

Let's talk about who Nie Mingjue was, shall we?

When Jin Guangyao, still Meng Yao then, describes Nie Mingjue, he finds himself perplexed, because Nie Mingjue isn't like other men. He is not frivolous, and he has no vices; Meng Yao describes how Nie Mingjue never showed an interest in arts, or alcohol, or women. All he did was train, and fight the Wens during the war. It shows that he had a one-track mind from the start, and has got a strict discipline; yet this strictly disciplined man, leader of a clan that prizes strength, continuously indulges his lazy and undisciplined half-brother, his one and only heir, despite not understanding his interests. We gather, pretty quickly, that Nie Mingjue is a bleeding heart for his brother, and for the ones he loves in general. We see the same softer side displayed in the presence of Lan Xichen, and of course, for some time, Meng Yao.

People seem to think Nie Mingjue took Meng Yao's betrayal too harshly. As if somehow seeing a man he thought to have been just and honest commit premeditated murder, then cover it up, was something he was just supposed to get over. To this day, I can't believe how Lan Xichen was so understanding of it. But not only did Nie Mingjue catch him in a cowardly act - Meng Yao proceeds to manipulate him, using the fact that Nie Mingjue cared about him, to stab him in the back. Or front, however it happened. I get that Meng Yao was in a difficult position, that he suffered at the Jins, that he felt backed in a corner; but Nie Mingjue was a man that had extended his help to Meng Yao before, and even then, he went to find Meng Yao in righteous fury, ready to help him again. To Nie Mingjue, the idea that Meng Yao "had no other choice" but to kill - to kill in the manner he did - it could have been nothing but a betrayal.

One thing that I personally highly respected Nie Mingjue for was the fact that he did not judge Meng Yao for his background. This is not up for debate; Nie Mingjue stood up for him, quite publicly, quite vocally, when Meng Yao was being insulted over it. And not only that, but he promoted Meng Yao to be his right hand man, just like that. Because he's impulsive, and to prove a point, but it was still huge of him to do. Not even Lan Xichen would have done that - In a society built on power dynamics between social classes, Nie Mingjue was one of the few characters who did not let that define his actions. It wasn't because he was born privileged (though he was) but because he he didn't let anything other than his judgment direct his actions. Nie Mingjue also never shied away from anything; if it had to be done, he did it, no matter the cost.

Nie Mingjue was decisive, and had an iron will. When Meng Yao killed the Nie disciples in Qishan, he wanted to kill Meng Yao. Meng Yao told him, paraphrasing, that "don't you understand that if I hadn't done that, it would have been your corpse up there?" and Wei Wuxian takes it to mean "Translation: I saved you so you can't kill me, because that would mean you're in the wrong." So Nie Mingjue hesitated for a second, then said: "Fine! I'll kill you, and then take my own life!" And the only reason he didn't, was because Lan Xichen was there. Otherwise, Nie Mingjue would have killed his former friend, then followed him to whatever afterlife awaited.

Nie Mingjue is often portrayed like he doesn't understand stuff, like he's stupid, simply because of his black and white sense of morality. That's not correct: Nie Mingjue understands motive, but he doesn't accept the ends justifying the means. Scratch that, he doesn't accept or justify either, if they're unjust. The murder of the Jin commander, the murder of the Nie disciples, not executing Xue Yang - how can Nie Mingjue possibly understand Meng Yao's decisions, when Nie Mingjue would rather die, any day, than live thanks to vile actions?

And then, Nie Mingjue starts falling into qi-deviation. We know that it affected his temper the most, and his judgement. I don't understand how it works, really, so I don't know by the end how much was Nie Mingjue and how much was the mess that the spirit made of him - maybe a combination of the two. But what is certain, is that the rapid qi deviation changed him.

But I could write a hundred more pages on him, meticulously going over every single scene he has ever appeared in, because I find him that interesting. I find him the most interesting, and the most appealing character, because in a story where the navigation of the cultivation world's complex politics and hierarchies with tact and diplomacy is crucial, Nie Mingjue stands uncompromising in his principles, choosing duty and honor over anything else, even when it's hard.

[bokettochild]

if i may ask, for febuwump if u don’t mind, day 15 twilight asking “who did this to you” to a whumped legend? and then protective big brother mode activate

Oh boy, I had SO many ideas for this one! Apologies for it being (checks wrist only to realize I'm not wearing a watch) late? By....time? Anyways, here's some brotherly bonding! (And copious amounts of Twilight having friends because I can!)

Rating: Teen

Wordcount: 5,792

Summary: Being a big brotehr is stressful, and sometimes, Twilight just needs a break to go and be a person. When one of his brothers needs him most though, he's willing to drop everything. Although, in the end, it's not all bad.

(Warnings: References to alcohol and social drinking)

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As a rule, Twilight loves his little brothers. 

No matter who it is or what they’ve done, or even how much they might drive him up the wall on any given day, he loves them all the same and will always be there for them. Still, he’s only a man. Sometimes, as much as he loves those who he’s found as family, he also wants to get away for a bit and be not just a big brother, but more. 

At Telma’s, he’s the hero, but he’s also the country boy who doesn’t know the city well yet. He’s the daredevil, because they've never met Wild or Warriors and they don’t know how much worse it really could be. To his friends, he’s the wild one, and for once, he’s not responsible for watching out for any of them. In fact, if he didn’t know any better, he’d guess they all feel the need to keep an eye on him. Ashei definitely does, all things considered, and Auru likely does as well. Considering he’s the youngest of the group though, son to one and young enough to be the child or grandchild of two others, it makes sense. 

So, naturally, after a long day on the road with the other heroes, one where Wild has been not quite a pain in his ass but definitely a challenge, no one can blame him from wanting to get away from the champion a bit. 

“It’s not that I don’t love the kid,” he tells the others, “But Ordonia’s Horns, does he try my patience some days.” 

“What did he do?” Ashei’s dark stare flicks over him, lips twitching in what, for her, is a greatly amused smile. “Climb up a freezing mountain without proper gear and nearly get killed?” 

His tankard hits the table harder than is really necessary, and he’s definitely not pouting as he stares back at her. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?” 

She just blinks at him, face unchanging. 

Twilight sighs, running his free hand over his face and shaking his head at the same time. “No. He’s a smart kid, amazing at survival an’ he’d never make that kind of mistake. Well, not now.” Brows raise, but he quickly explains. “I’m sure near the start of his adventure he had to learn somehow, but as young as he is, he’s pretty exceptional in all things survival.” 

The familiar clucking of Shad’s tongue announces the arrival of the scholar, who drops without a care into the free seat beside him, smile loose and, to anyone else, haughty. Twilight knows that smile though, knows it means mischief, and he’s not wrong. “And yet we got stuck with you, when we could have had someone so capable!” 

Maybe, in the earlier days, he would have smacked the other for those words. In the early days he certainly would have wanted to, and he would have meant it too. Now, the urge to jostle him like he does with Warriors when the other teases him is still very much there, but he resists it. Shad may be close in height to the captain, but he’s not accustomed to taking blows, and a smack from the ranch hand may or may not actually leave him still sitting in his chair.  

Instead, he settles for knocking his boot against the man’s ankles, staring at him pointedly. “Yeah, I’d love to see him launch yer skinny ass up to the sky islands. Don’t know if you’d survive the trip though.” 

“But he’s a hero, saved a princess didn’t he? You expect me to believe he doesn’t know how to handle other living people?” 

He snorts. His understanding of the younger hero is filtered through uncanny dreams that, apparently, show him things that actually happen between them in the future, in the cub’s era, but even if he doesn’t hold them as memories of his own (not quite yet) he does know how Wild treats his princess. “I once saw him push his princess down a mountain, so...” 

“What?” Auru stares at him, and Twilight is abruptly reminded that their present company is not just people his own age who the shock factor works on, but also elders who might actually experience heart failure at some of the stories he could tell about his cub. “She was standin’ on a shield an’ they were doin’ this thing called shield surfin’. Worst she got was a face fulla snow when she skidded into a bank.” Somehow that doesn’t assure the elder very much. “She was laughin’ when we got her out, and she pushed herself down the next time.” He adds, watching Auru relax at least slightly at the words. 

“Well then, it’s clear they were doing it in good fun,” Shad answers. “He doesn’t sound so bad.” 

“Are you a princess?” He teases back. “Gee, Shad, I must have missed the tiara! Where you been keepin’ it?” 

Unlike himself, Shad takes no issue with smacking him for his jesting. Unfortunately for the scholar though, he can take a hit, and at worst it just feels like a slight stinging from the impact. Shad, on the other hand, cradles his hand like it’s been broken. 

Ashei shakes her head at the man, sipping from her tankard with a sigh. “You really should know better by now.” 

“I forget!” 

“You forget he’s a wall of muscle when you’re looking right at him?” Telma teases, waltzing over with a drink for Shad and offering a warm smile to all of them. 

Twilight takes the opportunity to flip the glasses of his friend’s nose. “You need a better pair of these if you’re that blind.” 

Shad squawks, fumbling for the fallen spectacles. It takes a moment, and his flailing almost ends up with them falling in his drink, but Ashei catches them neatly and offers them back. It's only when they're on the scholar’s face again that he turns to Twilight, huffing. “Why must you do that?” 

“Because I can.” 

And this is just what he means. He’s not the elder sibling here, he’s not in charge, he’s not the reliable one. To these people, he’s the young pup who beat Ganon, the country bumpkin up from Ordon who sees the city as a wonder and a giant. He’s just Link. 

Not that he resents his brothers for needing him. No, he’s glad to have a place and to know what’s expected of him, to be able to do something for them. Still, sometimes he doesn’t want to be the level-headed, well-behaved example for the younger ones to emulate. Sometimes, he wants to be as crazy as his protege. The problem is, he can’t do that with them watching, he can’t when doing so jeopardizes the trust Time has in him to help keep the younger ones in line and out of danger from their own crazy exploits. 

Here, he can be a bit crazy. Here, he can let loose. Here, no one can see him being a wild young man in his twenties. So, he enjoys it. He laughs and he teases and he and Shad go back and forth for the next hour or so with jabs and jests that have the others all rolling their eyes or sighing at them, stares heavy but not nearly as cold as they might appear to a onlooker. 

It’s a good night all told. By the time they’re all getting up to leave, Auru’s already gone home, and Telma’s getting a start on cleaning up the bar for closing. Shad’s had a bit too much, although not enough to leave him a babbling mess, just a tired one, and Twilight and Ashei are left to shoulder the scholar and haul him back to his own home. 

“I could haul him myself.”  

“I don’t doubt it,” Ashei hums from where she has Shad’s other arm around her shoulders, “but we’d never hear the end of it if he found out you princess carried him down the street like a maiden.” 

He sniffs. “If his pride’s that sens’tive, that’s his fault.” 

Her lips twitch into a little half smile. For Ashei, that’s the equivalent of a cackle. “It’s bad enough being seen with a country boy who could crush him, being treated like a woman as well hardly helps his masculinity.” 

“Again,” he chuckles, maybe slightly tipsy himself, “ain’t my fault he’s fragile.” 

Dark eyes slide to stare at him, but his friend says nothing ore on the matter. There's not much more time to say anything either, since Shad lives relatively close to the bar anyways, so getting him home is hardly a lengthily journey. Getting into his place to drop him off is a bit of a mess, as Twilight does have to support the scholar long enough for Ashei to pat him down for his keys, but once she’s got them and unlocked the door, he does take the chance to sweep the smaller man up in his rms and carry him through the door, even as the swordswoman watches while shaking her head.  

Once Shad’s laid in his bed, shoes off and tie loosened only because Ashei is a dear and not because of any kindness on Twilight’s part, they step back out into teh street together, pulling the once more locked door closed after them. 

“He’s going to be pissed.” 

He chuckles. “He can live with it.” 

A gauntleted arm nudges against his, protected against impact unlike the scholar’s hand, and much stronger too. “You say that because you’ll be gone by morning and don’t have to deal with it.” 

“You could be too,” he reminds her, “he’d never dare follow you up into the mountains.” 

This time, the rough nudge actually makes him stumble. Maybe he is tipsy. He’s about to protest at teh rough treatment, or tease, he’s not sure exactly what it is that’s on his lips because it slips away in an instant when a soft noise, a familiar sound that is his utter weakness, sounds on the flagstones of the alley not far from him.  

Ashei must see his ears prick up, face turning towards the sound, and she already knows, because one perfect brow raises with all the grace and authority of the captain. “Cat?” 

His moving feet are his only answer. 

She sighs. “Do you have to pet every one of those things that you see?” 

“Yes.” 

Despite her protests, she trails after him, watching as he peers around the alley, crouching low to find the fluffy creature. “I don’t understand why you like them so much. Aren’t you a wolf? Shouldn’t you prefer a dog’s company?” 

“I can enjoy both!” 

Ashei sniffs. “Dogs are better.”  

He turns to her, affronted and maybe, slightly offended. “They are not!” 

“You turn into a dog,” the words are flat, “shouldn’t you take that as a compliment?” 

“I’m not a dog,” he sniffs, “I turn into a wolf, and I’m still me under the fur, so it’s different anyways. Most dogs don’t act like that.” 

“You chase your tail.” 

“I had to learn to blend in so people wouldn’t suspect anything!” 

He doesn’t deign to meet the look that’s fixed on him, but he knows precisely what it is: brows raised, chin lowered, eyes flat and simply waiting for him to cave and admit she’s right. Uli pulls the same face on Rusl when he says something dumb, and he’s seen Telma do it too. He’d say it’s a woman thing, but he’s pretty sure he’s seen Warriors do it too, and Four as well, so saying that would be a very good way to get his ass kicked. Shad might be unable to do much damage, but Warriors can and has thrown his ass across the camp, and could probably do it again. 

Instead of saying anything, he keeps his eyes open, ears flickering about to catch any further hint of where the critter in the alley is hiding he thinks it’s a cat, but it was a muffled and very brief sound to begin with, so all he knows for sure is that it’s something small with paws. Crouching low and clucking his tongue softly usually draws them out, but this time there are no such results. He’s almost about to give up and accept that the sweet little thing had maybe slipped away already when Ashei’s hand catches his shoulder suddenly, grip firm. 

“What-” 

“Look,” her other hand points down at the flagstones underfoot, “blood.” 

Playfulness and excitement bleed away to a firmness he usually only takes on in battle, and he turns his attention to the spattering on the stone rather than the slight shuffling he’d thought before, although he doesn’t dismiss the noise either. “Fresh too.” 

Dark eyes meet his own, a silent question. 

Usually, he’s against using his crystal in public spaces, but it’s late eough at night, and in a seedy enough part of town that he doubts anyone’s lingering around the area to see, and if they are, they’re no good anyways. He shifts, fur and claws taking over in a now familiar twisting and aching. It doesn;t hurt anymore, no more than like stretching an unused muscle, and it only takes a moment to settle into the wolf’s body that’s as much his by this point as the hylian one he prefers. 

“I’ll follow you.” Ashei tells him, hand drifting to her hip and the sword hanging there.  

She’s ready for trouble, and he is too as he sets his nose to the ground and tries to follow the trail that is invisible to human eyes, but clear as day to him as it winds and twists around the small space they linger in. Whatever left the trail isn’t human, he knows that quickly. The scent trail springs off of walls and rubble in the streets in ways only the most skilled of fighters could achieve, and even then, likely not when injured. It’s fresh still though, like he said, so it’s not as though it fades out quickly, and it’s only a few minutes before he finds it’s end amidst some fallen crates around the corner. 

Something from within the pile of discarded containers shuffles, the same slipping of paws against stone, and rapid little breathes that sound in time with a pitter pattering heart. 

He shifts back. Wolf form is easier to use to track things, especially when his head is slightly fuzzy from alcohol, but for small animals, it’s not always the most welcome sight. A hylian with kind hands and gentle eyes is easier to accept in his experience. 

“Here?” Ashei asks, brows raised. 

He nods. “Not human.” 

She relaxes. He doesn’t. Animal death isn’t anything she worries about; she’s a warrior, a fighter, if the animals die, then they do. People are her priority. He, on the other hand, would prefer to avoid any unnecessary death if he can help it. Maybe it’s because he knows what it’s like to be on both sides of the matter, but unless strictly necessary, he doesn’t care to be a witness to or cause of death.  

Her hand slips from her sword and she stays back as he crouches low again, carefully shifting the crates and clucking softy. “Hey there, little ‘un. You okay?” 

The air seems to go still for a moment, and somehow, he knows his voice has made the creature freeze, but a moment later, as he shifts the boxes, wary lest they suddenly shift and crush the little injured thing, it seems to settle again, and the softest little questioning ‘mrrrp?’ sounds from within. 

“It’s okay,” he soothes, voice lowering, a soft rumble that rolls gently off his tongue and through his throat. Usually, it works on most animals, unless they have bad experiences with men specifically. Here, it seems to have the preferred result, and the softest brush of paws on stone touches his ears as he moves another crate. 

As the wood lifts away, he nearly drops it again at the sight that lies before him. 

“What’s wrong?” Ashei’s hand is moving to her sword again, likely as a result of the tension that’s jumped back into his shoulders, the way his ears have flicked back to press against his skull in horror. 

He doesn't answer her. Instead he’s all but throwing the crate away and reaching into the space between splintered wood. The motions are maybe too sudden, he reminds himself belatedly, for handling an injured creature, and the flinch away from his touch drives the point home. His heart wrenches somewhat at the way long ears press back and little paws stutter against stone, violet eyes squeezing shut in a wince. 

Two thoughts flicker in his head. How is Legend a rabbit, and what is he doing looking bleeding out in an alleyway as a rabbit? 

“Shhhh,” he tries to soothe, “it’s jist me, jist me, okay?” His eyes flicker over bloody pink fur to dark eyes that stare up at him, shining with a fear he’s never seen from the other before as a fluffy little chest rises and falls with breathes that would be dangerously fast for a hylian, but even for a small rodent are concerning. 

There’s a lot of blood, and he means a lot. 

“Who did this to you?” He can’t help the soft sigh in teh words, the almost coo. Small animals are most definitely his weakness, and small injured animals, even if they’re actually grouchy teenage boys, are definitely worse. His brother just looks so breakable and delicate, and the crimson matting fur together and staining the stone is just making his heart clench up even more as he reaches out. 

From behind, Ashei’s feet pad softly over, wary, but knowing her, she’d know he wouldn’t address anything threatening in that sort of voice. Still, she does recoil slightly, shock briefly flashing across her face as he manages to get a hold on his brother’s changed form, carefully lifting Legend up into his arms. “Is that a pink rabbit?” Her voice catches slightly, which is frankly impressive; she’s usually never so expressive. 

He nods, and while last time Legend had protested loudly at being picked up and handled like an actual rabbit, this time the animal form of his brotehr nestles down into his arms with a soft shudder, head resting on the crook of his arm even as wary eyes lift to stare at the swordswoman who’s likewise fixed on him.  

“What in Hylia’s-” 

“He’s hurt bad.” 

“It’s a rabbit in Castletown, are you shocked?” Reason seems to be slipping over to cover shock as she turns her eyes, flat once more, up to stare at him instead of the critter in his arms. “There’s dozens of dogs in this neighborhood, and while most have probably ever seen a rabbit before, they’re still hunters by nature.” 

The words twist in his gut. Not because he hadn’t realized; he’s changes into a wolf, he knows what sorts of urges come with the canine form, and while he might laugh it off, there’s still a part of him that, when in that form, lunges at the chance to chase small things, to get his teeth into them and shake them. He’s more man than beast of course, so he doesn’t really give into it unless he’s starving for food and a hunt is truly needed, but even then, there’s still part of him that recoils at his own actions. He’s been the one hunted before though, chased and tracked and lunged for by those who’d rather use his pelt to warm their families then let him so much as walk past them in the street. 

Still, as a wolf, he’s got teeth and claws to fight back, if he wanted to. The creature in his arms, his brother, doesn’t have that option. Legend's teeth and claws can barely draw blood, and by the time he’d gotten close enough to even try, a dog’s teeth would already be snapping around him before he could do anything. 

His arms tighten around the shivering form in his arms. In the back of his head, he can almost hear Uli, back when he was a kid still new to Ordon, still new to trees and animals and anything that wasn’t sand and swords. He shouldn't scare little things, ever, she’d told him. She’d been holding a rabbit in her arms, one she’d somehow managed to catch while they were out having a picnic in the fields with him. He’d been in wonder of the glossy fur and tiny paws, but moving too fast, too harsh, and it was hiding it’s head in her arms to avoid him. ‘They’re not made to handle scary things,” she’d murmured to himself and an equally awed Colin, who was only three at the time. ‘their little hearts might explode if you scare them too much.’ 

It’s slightly an irrational fear, considering Legend isn’t actually a rabbit, just transformed into one, but the words still ring in his head as he cradles the broken little body in his hold. 

Ashei’s stare is blank as it turns back to his little charge, lips twitching downwards briefly. “You’d be better off putting it out of its misery, Link. It can’t survive here, and you can’t take it with you.” 

The very idea makes his stomach, heart skipping up into his throat as he recoils from his friend, body shifting by instinct alone to shield his little brother from her cold stare and colder words. “No!” 

“Link...” 

“He’s not just a rabbit!” 

“How much were you drinking?” 

The implication hurts a bit. He can hold his alcohol better than that, and he hadn’t had very much at all. He knows better! He knows Sky would have words for him if he came back drunk, especially after the trouble they’ve been having with keeping certain heroes sober. “No, I’m serious! He's....” the words slip outr of his head for a moment as he turns his gaze down to dark eyes that are squeezed closed in pain. “He’s...” 

“I’m not a rabbit.” 

He’s never seen Ashei’s eyes widen that much in his life, nor her move so quickly, sword half drawn and feet scrabbling back in shock at the fact that rabbit in his arms just spoke. 

“He’s like me,” he tries, soothing one hand down blood matted fur, and realizing at the same time that he should probably do something about the damage done to the vet.  

“A shifter?” 

“A hero,” he corrects, attention now on finding the source of the blood. “And yes, he transforms when exposed to dark magic.” 

“Can he turn back on his own?” She moves closer, apparently assured by his words, even though her eyes are still fixed on the pink rabbit that can talk, likely wondering how much more insane her night is going to get. 

Twilight shakes his head. “Not without a source of light magic.” 

“But you-” 

“I have control over the crystal, and practice. He’s...different.” 

There, he’s found it, the source of the blood. His heart twists up more, somehow, when he identifies the familiar marks left by sharp teeth. It could be his own work if it was a size or two bigger, and that particular thought has his stomach lurching yet again. There’s more bites than one too, and one paw seems to have been crushed, hanging oddly and when he jostles it there’s a bitten off cry of pain from his brother’s altered form. 

“He doesn’t look good.” Ashei states grimly, ow crouched at his side and staring intently at the injuries and violet eyes that squeeze closed as rapid little breathes shake the tiny body in his hold. 

She’s right. “Is there some sorta animal doc ‘round here?” 

Raised brows. “We aren’t a country town, Link.” 

“But even city folk have horses and shit, right?” 

Ashei frowns, gaze slipping free of his own. “Horses, yes, but smaller creatures-” 

“What about Agitha?” 

A flat look. “She’s a child, and her interest is insects.” 

“Small beings that she believes are magic,” he corrects, already shifting to his feet, cradling the fluffy form in his arms with all the care he’d use with Uli’s littlest. Legend doesn’t protest the movements either, although that might just be because he’s in too much pain to do so. “A talking pink rabbit is going to make her night.” 

Following his lead, the swordswoman stands, dusting herself off with a little sigh. “It’s worth a shot, I suppose.” 

The path to the self-proclaimed princess’s house is a short one, which is the main cause of his choice to see her, that and, like he said, her love of small magical beings. A rabbit and a butterfly are very, very different, but he’s counting on the quirky nature of the girl to overrule that logic like it does with most things. Sure, putting his hopes on a twelve-year-old with questionable logic isn’t maybe the best choice he’s made in his life, but considering he took the advice of a warrior killed in battle on how to beat Gannon, no one can exactly argue that his logic is sound either. 

If anything, Agitha is awake, and when Ashei knocks at the door, it swings open quickly, revealing swinging pigtails and a bright smile that’s just slightly off-putting. “Ah, brave knight! You’ve returned!” 

The look Ashei levels him with could probably kill a lesser man. 

The bug princess swings the door open wide, smile even wider as she cocks her head on one side. “Welcome! The Princess of Bigs is happy to let you enter her kingdom!” 

“Thank you,” he bows his head slightly. The best course of action here is to play along. He’s not sure why Agitha is like this, but going along with her game doesn't hurt anyone, even if it used to drive Midna crazy. Still, she’s a kid, and he’s used to kids, good with them too. “I come seeking the princess’s help.” 

“A knight needing help from a princess? How queer!” She giggles into her hand, but then stops. It’s like her whole person stalls for a moment, eyes falling on the bundle of pink in his arms. “Oh my, what’s this you’ve brought here?” 

He exchanges a look with Ashei, and in return, she just stares. 

“This is an enchanted warrior,” he tells the girl, “he’s been cursed into this form, and injured badly. We thought, since you are princess of the creatures of the small kingdoms, that maybe you might be able to aid him, even if he isn’t one of your subjects.” 

He can feel the groan building up from his companion, but she doesn’t release it, thankfully. Agitha probably wouldn’t notice if she had though, gliding forwards slowly with features pinched up into an honestly adorable pout. “Oh, the poor, poor little warrior!” She coos. “Yes, I am not princess of the mammal world, but I do not have a heart of stone. Here,” her arms are thrust out, open and waiting, “allow the Princess to help him!” 

He’s more hesitant than he’d like when handing over the vet’s beaten form, but Agitha handles him with surprising care, shushing and cooing as she strokes back long ears, whisking around to head off deeper into the room. Twilight trails after, leaving Ashei at the door, as the woman does not appear to be at all interested in plunging further into the insect castle. He’s cautious with where he puts his feet and keeps his distance, also wary of his surroundings. Meanwhile, Agitha lays the vet’s rabbit form on a tabletop and, with quick kiss to the brow that would be very ill advised considering the blood there, she darts off to grab something from one of the many nooks and crannies about the room. 

It’s honestly impressive, considering her age and the general doubts he has for her sanity, how efficient the insect princess handles the injuries presented to her. She shows little worry for the blood that gets on her dress and many accessories, humming softly to herself as she set bones with ease that’s almost scary and binds up wounds with care that he’d almost mistake for the skill of an actual healer. Once she’s done though, she’s scooping up Legend’s little body and settling him back in Twilight’s arms, a smile on her face as she winks up at him, one finger pressed to her cheek with a coy little smile 

 “Lucky for you, Mister Captain Hero taught me a thing or two on treating wounds! He’s all fixed now! Make sure to let him rest and give him lots too eat, okay? And lots of pets!” She claps her now blood stained hands, smile still shining. “He’s such a darling thing! He deserves all the pets in the world! Oh, I wish you could pet bugs, but there’s so little of them to pet, and butterflies die if you pet them...” 

His smile is stilted, but he manages to bob his head in thanks all the same. “Thank you, princess.” 

“Of course, brave knight,” he’s answered with a charming smile and a little curtsy, one that leaves bloody fingerprints on pink skirts. “If ever you find another such wounded warrior of the magical world, do bring them here. Princess Agitha will take care of them!” 

Ashei hurries them out the door before ‘Princess Agitha’ can say much more than that. Honestly, he’s thankful. She’s not a bd kid, but she’s kind of off-putting if he’s being honest. Legend’s face buried in his arms indicates that he too finds the girl somewhat off-putting, even if he hadn’t spoken at all since they alley. 

“That child is insane.” Ashei pronounces once they’re safely away again. 

It’s strained, but he finds himself laughing slightly, hand dragging over long ears as he walks and resisting, strongly, the urge to rub his face into long fur. “Yeah, prob’bly.” 

A side glance is fixed on him, feet not stopping on the well known path back past the bar. “Will you be going back to your inn now?” 

He nods, glancing down to find Legend is staring up at him as well, gaze hazy from either pain or exhaustion, he’s not sure. “Yeah. It’s pretty late, an’ i still need to get him changed back before the others realize he’s missin’.” And then, as an after thought, he adds, “I know the way back.” 

“You had a bit to drink.” 

“Ashei,” he laughs, strained, “no one’s gonna try anything on swordsman wearing wolf’s pelt, not if they have an ounce of sense! ‘Sides, it’s not far off.” 

Her stare is heavy. 

“I’m fine. If anythin’ as the man here, I ought to be offerin’ to walk you home!” 

Weight is nothing in comparison to the sharpness in those eyes. “Watch it, Ordon.” 

“Yes, miss.” 

She shakes her head, dark hair somehow not so much as swishing with the motion. “Have a good night.” And then she’s heading off, not even bothering to wait around for his echo of her farewell and instead disappearing around a corner up ahead, pace faster than his own as he tries to keep steady and not jostle the brother in his hold. With her gone though, it’s just Legend and himself, violet eyes truned up to stare blearily up at him. 

“We are gonn talk about this later,” he warns, even as he sets off towards the inn again. 

Legend shifts, ears flicking slightly in answer, but he doesn’t talk. If anything, the rabbit in his arms curls in tighter, defensive.  

“I’m not mad,” he’s quick to assure, foddling long ears gently, “but you scared me there, vet.” 

Still no answer. He resigns himself to silence as his feet carry the two of them down the mostly quiet streets of Castletown and back to the inn, one hand still running through silky fur, careful not to catch on where it’s still matted with blood.  

“Here’s hoping Sky doesn’t have our heads for wakin’ him.” He sighs as they come to the door, and he has to stop his petting of pink fur to push it open. “Hopefully the rest are also asleep, cuz I ain’t got an answer for any of this.” 

The rabbit in his arms snorts, but th head that’s been lolling into the crook of his arm raises to butt against him gently. It startles him. 

So many years ago, Uli said that was how rabbits indicate affection, or ask for more pets. Good grief, how out of it is Legend: Mister-Don't-Touch-Me-I-Will-Bite-You? There’s no way to know though, but he doesn't look a gift bunny in the mouth, and he’s only too happy to continue his petting as he takes the stairs up to their room, nodding briefly to the wide eyed inn-keeper as he goes. 

Tomorrow, he will have to ask Legend what happened. Tomorrow, he will have to adopt being a good, responsile big brotehr who gets to the bottom of things, but for tonight, he’s simply content to try and turn his brother back to a hylian, get a potion down his throat, and head to bed, leaving the adult stuff to future Twilight. That’s easy enough too. Sky has questions, but is too tired to slur through them, and while feeding the vet a potion is hard with the other slumping against him so heavily, but they manage. They manage and then he’s slumping himself back into the bed left open for him. He sort of expects Legend to slip away after, but belatedly, he realizes that’s just impossible. Maybe it was the petting, since he’s been there and he gets how much it turns his muscles into jelly, but pink hair hits his chest the moment his back has settled into the mattress, and the hand that catches in the front of his tunic further cements that Legend isn’t going anywhere. 

Ah well, if Legend’s going to take up space in his bed, he reserves the right to keep running his hands through fluffy pink. If Legend doesn’t tell him to stop, he won’t. The vet doesn’t eitehr, just hums softly, curling in on himself and nestling into his side with a soft sigh that would almost, almost fool him into thinking his brother was still in his beast form. 

Tomorrow will be interesting. Explaining the blood on their clothes, where they’d been, and all else won’t be fun. But for tonight they can have a little more peace. The scare is over, and Twilight’s free for just a little bit more. And hey, the brief panic was worth it, especially considering he’s getting cuddles out of the deal! 

[aftersamu]

THE EXIT PAIRING: r.suna x gn!reader GENRE: angst + exposure of the bet trope (enemies to lovers to enemies)

it gets personal at the end, and this has such a different energy to anything i've written before. like there's harsh words, fucked up tropes, and it's definitely more 2010 teen drama. proceed with caution <3

a party.

people crowding the living room and backyard of the house, 20+ bottles of alcohol, red cups lining every table and surface, casual hookups, and girls rushing to the bathroom to throw up, and others blacked out on the grass.

you lost suna throughout the night, got invested in a conversation with a girl you've never spoken to before. and once you realised he was gone, you searched for him.

asking around for his whereabouts, getting closer and closer to finding a distinct location. osamu told you where to go, and you went. ducking underneath the velvet rope blocking off steps, and heading up.

turning every corner, trying to open every door, with a ear pressed to each closed surface. and down the hall, at the corner, a small ray of light illuminates the hallway.

you walk forward, starting to hear the hushed conversation and walking on your toes, holding your breath in your chest as you approach the slightly opened door.

back pressing against the wall, hiding in the shadows you listen. maybe it's nothing serious and you're being nosey, feeding off drama that might not even involve you.

until you hear your name.

"so, how are things going between the two of you?" atsumu, his voice is easily identifiable. "it's been a couple months since they've stopped hating you, i take it's a good sign."

"look, i don't think this is a good idea anymore." suna sighs, "it was fun for a while, but it's getting pretty serious now."

"you going soft rintarō?" atsumu teases, "i thought you hated that bitch, now you're sympathetic? what happened?"

"i don't know man, my fucking morals kicked in, i guess." suna quips, he's frustrated. you can see his shadow pacing around. "look this was fun, the games, but i don't know if i can do it anymore."

"so... you fucked?" atsumu bluntly remarks, "come on mate, i'm not stupid. you wouldn't be backing out unless you two fucked."

"yeah, well, it happened and now i'm screwed because you're a dickhead and i'm an idiot." suna scoffs, "it ends now, i'll give you the money, i don't want to do this stupid bet anymore."

bet. of fucking course, how cliche of them. how naive of you to think of giving suna a chance, he's a dickhead, you knew that. but, there's no way he spent six months trying to get in good with you for a bet.

no amount of money could have him commit for this long. or at least you think, it was a moment of boredom and a way to make easy money. two rich kids who have nothing better to do other than drop a grand on a bet.

a gambling scheme.

with twist and turns, challenges and money rewards. to keep them both interested in the little plan, one that has been pulled straight from a reality tv show.

"you're backing out now? it's been half a year, i think it's too late to feel remorse now." atsumu states, "do you need a recap of how much money we've bet? do you know how much money has been exchanged during this entire ordeal?"

"no, i don't, and don't be a dick." suna snaps, "you are just as much a part of this as i am."

"yeah, but i wasn't the one who brought it up." atsumu retorts, "i wasn't the one who stood up, and bet that i could get in good with them. that i could manipulate them with my killer charm."

"yes, but you proposed those sick side bets. bring them to the party, kiss them on this day, get them to make the first move within a week." suna mocks, "you're no better than me."

"so what? you going to go down there and tell them that you've been manipulating them for a little extra cash? that you've been fucking around with others the same time you've been buying them flowers, and making them eggs in the morning?"

your heart is beating hard against your chest, is it the anger, sadness, or alcohol that's giving you vertigo? is it the betrayal that causes all feeling to escape from your body, or is it how you feel like a complete idiot that sends you barging into the room.

you kick the door wide open, face red, and eyes already watering. the look of shock on suna's face and fear that paints it, and atsumu's smugness ever so present.

"don't even try." you say, holding up a finger to stop the brunette from saying anything. it's so funny, you can't seem to stop the manic smile from growing on your lips.

"let me explain–"

"oh, yeah sure. i don’t hate you babe, i never hated you, i love you, you’re everything i need. you’re the only one who understands me, and sees me. i can’t hate you." you mock, bringing up the words he spoke to you. "shut the fuck up suna."

it's as if those months have vanished, and all you feel is pure hate and rage towards those eyes that you thought you loved.

"you definitely outdid yourself with this one, this whole fucking twisted six month plan of yours.” you dryly laugh, bringing your hands up, "oh, but love, i don't feel that way, i tried to back out." you mimic. "go fuck yourself."

god, you seem so delusional.

"it's not like that!"

"yeah, and i like totally care." you say, rolling your eyes, "you don't mean shit. so pay miya what you owe and move on, because you lost! that's what you get for being a fucking cunt."

"love, you're drunk." suna sighs, taking a step towards you.

"don't come near me," you deadpan. "you manipulative, sick fuck. you will never be good enough for anybody, no one will ever love you, your sister doesn't even want to see you. i see you, and you're an insecure, needy, fucking freak."

you want to strike a nerve, and you know you have. you want to cause pain, regain some dignity that you've lost. you may have seen the worst of him, but he has not seen the worst of you.

"i'm done with you, i fucking hate you... and you're friends are hotter."

[lixiesfreckless]

The Way You Shatter | h. js.

➸ synopsis: you should love him. you do love him. but not like this.

➸ starring: han jisung x female reader(ft. a mention of another skz member)

➸ word count: 1.6k

➸ general content: probably the angstiest thing I have ever written. unrequited love, established relationship, mentions of metaphorical blood

➸ warnings: alcohol consumption, no real happy ending

➸ rating: teen+

➸ author’s note: a fic I wrote after I broke up with my boyfriend a few years back. I always see people talking about how hard it is to have your heart broken, but no one ever mentions the pain of knowing you have to break someone's heart, to do the right thing. so I wrote this to cope and process my feelings, in the hope that maybe this would help someone going through a similar situation. you are so not alone.

♫ recharge- yasumu

“I don’t wanna break up with you.”

Somehow, these are the scariest words that have ever been uttered to you.

For the first time, someone has given you their heart; something so precious and invaluable, fragile and vulnerable, and you don’t know what to do with it. You don’t have a clue.

He’s looking at you with watery eyes, the same eyes you once saw long nights and baby names inside of. A future. Something to build forever upon. 

Now all you see is dark umber rimmed with red.

You’re supposed to say something back, you realize. People don’t give others their heart so they can zone out and stare at the wall, leaving the blood to seep out between their fingers.

You know exactly what you’re supposed to say to make the tears stop. You want to rub the space between his eyebrows until the wrinkles that lie there smooth out, until the corners of his mouth lift in relief. You want to run so far away from him; erase any chance of you hurting him again. Invent time travel and stop yourself from saying yes too quickly.

“I don’t wanna break up with you either.”

The words taste so vile in your mouth. You hate yourself for every syllable you speak. Liar, you hear yourself say in the back of your mind. 

You almost don’t recognize your own voice; thick with tears and stress and yet so devoid of emotion. There are robots with more character. Again but with more feeling, the director in your head screams at you.

But Jisung doesn’t seem to think any of that, no— he lets out a broken sigh, squeezing your hand in his, and it feels as if you’re being suffocated. As if the thumb caressing your knuckle is slanting against your windpipe, stopping you from saying the words you desperately need to tell him.

You feel yourself continue talking. Reassuring him that you’ll get through this, that you can work through this together. That you’re just going through a dry spell. You can’t tell who you’re trying to convince anymore.

Please stop talking. Please, you’re only making it worse.

Even the people pleaser inside of you is wincing, knowing that this cannot last for long. That you cannot pretend for another second. That your words are more hollow than sparrow bones.

Please don’t believe me. Please figure it out so I don’t have to splinter your heart by hand.

Your eyes meet with his and you finally notice it. How his eyes don’t penetrate past your physical appearance anymore. How the idea of love isn’t immortalized in his irises. 

It finally clicks once you stop talking, but not in the satisfying way legos do. It manifests in your stomach dropping, the thought that no, this cannot be remedied, you have crossed the point of no return but will not be paying the price.

You have effectively shoved shards of glass into the heart in your hand. With every sentence you spoke, you mindlessly wove together a world where you could continue, with him. With his chestnut hair and round cheeks, his sweet songs and guitar melodies, his full laugh, his doc martens.

You should love him. You do love him.

But not like this.

And so the world you wove together takes its strings and wraps them around your neck, all of the promises working together against you, and you curse your tongue for being so quick to please, his eyes for begging you to make the pain go away.

“I love you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper as he looks up at you, eyes expectant.

You must say it back. After everything you’ve said, you have to right? Maybe the feeling will come back, if it was ever there. Maybe you won’t compromise yourself to ensure a smile again. Maybe you’ll repeat the words back and it won’t feel like you’re removing a shard from his heart, and shoving it right into your own.

But it’s in saying the words that you realize what a mistake you’ve made. You wonder if Jisung could finally tell you about the thing each of his songs talk about. Looking into your eyes, he is bound to figure out what love is.

After all, you’re much more likely to notice something when it’s not there.

“I love you too.”

In its absence.

…

“As long as you love him, I think you guys will be okay.” He raises his bottle to his lips, half expecting you to nod your head, say something, have some sort of reaction.

But you sit across from him, lifeless, and instead of waiting for the cold soju to hit the back of his throat, he tips his head forward, setting the bottle down beside him.

“Y/n,” he says with a hint of concern, “you do love him, right?”

Your eyes dart to his, big and brown, half expecting there to be worry, fear, anything to be swimming in those coffee-colored irises.

Instead you find Hyunjin looking at you with a blank expression, tracing the rim of the bottle opening with his index finger. He’s so carefully neutral about the way he looks right now, which only tells you one thing.

He already knows how you feel.

About Jisung.

You hesitated for a second too long and now you are glass, so perfectly see-through for Hyunjin to dissect and psychoanalyze. 

It only takes those two seconds of silence, your hesitation, for Hyunjin to see, to know what has been plaguing your thoughts.

“Yes.” You gulp hard. “Yes, I do love him.” Does love sound like a forced phrase?

Hyunjin is one of those friends that likes to surprise you. With his talent, his paintings, his dances, his outbursts of laughter. He is a constant in your life and yet, you never know what to expect from him.

“But you are not in love with him.”

You did not expect Hwang Hyunjin to read you so easily on the floor of his living room, to explain your situation in the simplest most detailed way possible.

Your mouth opens to fight his suggestion, because in your head, he is wrong. In your head, it is crazy that he would assume such a thing. You kiss Jisung hello and goodbye, you already have his birthday gift, you love his dog, his family, his smile, his laugh. Isn’t it obvious? Isn’t it enough?

Your heart knows it isn’t. Your mouth closes again.

Hyunjin knows what to expect from you, which is why even though he just made a statement, he left it open ended. Open for you to admit that it went wrong, somewhere. There’s no judgement in his eyes; part of you wonders if he’s been here before. Teetering on the line between obligation and feeling. You hope he’s never been here.

But you’ve been here, you feel like you’ve lived a million lifetimes here, and now it feels like the tear rolling down your cheek is the first step down off the tightrope you’ve called home.

You don’t want to admit it. But what’s the use in hiding it— if Hyunjin could see it, who’s to say no one else has? You don’t want to indirectly break Jisung’s heart like that.

Eight words is all it takes for him to break the glass that is you. And you shatter all over his floor.

Hyunjin doesn’t say a word when you sniffle. He picks up his bottle and walks over to you, bunny-shaped slippers stepping on the scattered splinters of you on the floor. He crouches next to you, hooking the cuff of his hoodie around his thumb so he can swipe away the wetness on your cheek.

“Y/n. He will be okay.”

It’s no use, the dam breaks, and Hyunjin catches you as you start sobbing, releasing all of the pent up stress and worry you’ve been holding for weeks. You try to speak but it’s barely understandable, but it’s met with soft hushes, whispers of it’s going to be alright, you didn’t mean to hurt him, you tried, you tried, you tried.

Hyunjin doesn’t say a word when you take his bottle of soju, and down the rest of it in one go. He doesn’t speak when you start stringing your tears into sentences. You let him into the darkest corner of your mind and he doesn’t snoop, he just sits and waits for you to show him around.

And you show him everything. How you never got butterflies when you kissed. How you haven’t felt your heartbeat in months. How you think Bbama understands you better than he does. How he’s never done anything wrong, but the more you try to love him the more you start to resent him. And how the thought of resenting Jisung makes you want to throw up.

You remember the exact moment you realized you weren’t in love with him, how you looked into his eyes and asked yourself, how did it get to this point?

“I don’t want to break up with him,” you whisper out shakily, and Hyunjin nods back at you, still drying your tears with his sleeve. “I know how it would break him. I can’t do that to him.” Not after you reassured him. Not after you splintered his heart and stabbed your own.

Hyunjin has a couple things he could say back to you. He could tell you that it’s no good leading Jisung on from here. That lying to yourself will make you bleed from the inside out. That he doesn’t want to see his two closest friends in tears either. 

But the sorrowful look in his eyes tells you all of that already.

“I know,” he sighs, eyes just the tiniest bit more glassy.

What more can be said, really?

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 17!!!

Okay, it's been a bit so quick recap: We just spent the evening at a dive bar singing karaoke and learning that 1) Jesus is a 13-year-old rich white kid with rich parents living in L.A. and 2) Muriel is missing. The Angel of Sardis gave us a lovely fishbowl (alcoholic drink since no one in this world has bothered to ask Reader's age because I have more room to play that way) as a reward for singing Taylor Swift (Shake it Off). We pick up our story The Morning After.

Also, since the poll about Sardis tied, I'm taking it to mean that everyone needs/wants more time with him to figure him out. Fortunately people also voted to bring him along, so we get to have LOTS OF THAT!! :D

Brandenburg Concerto No. 3 in G Major for anyone who's curious.

What music do you think Anathema likes??

Let's do this!!

Beginning || Previous || Next

**********************************

The next morning you sit at the table in the dining room of the massive Ritz hotel suite, staring into your coffee. You have a headache, and no one else seems to be faring too much better. If only it was just a hangover. A miracle from either Aziraphale or Crowley could fix a hangover, but there was no way that a miracle of any size could make your situation any less bleak.

Aziraphale, angel that he literally is, had thought to order in breakfast from the kitchens. You look from your coffee to the waiting plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon, heaving a sigh. Jesus, if and when you find him, is an entitled teen. Muriel, friend and precious, is missing. Things are...well, it’s hard to feel happy or optimistic right now. Your companions aren’t faring much better as far as you can tell. Crowley is staring at his phone with a frown, the sound effects of Candy Crush drifting across the otherwise silent table. He’s playing at non-chalance, but you know Distraction As A Coping Mechanism when you see it. Aziraphale has barely touched his food, focusing more on alternating between stirring his tea, and sipping it only to add more sugar. The drink must be nearly syrup by now. Anathema keeps dangling her pendulum, pausing, then setting it down to re-cast her rune stones. You’ve noticed that they keep landing up the same way. Well, you need fuel in your system if you’re going to deal with all of this, so you reluctantly cut a slice of pancake with your fork and bring it to your mouth.

The silence stretches. Well, except for the ambiance; Candy Crush, spoon stir, runes cast, pancake slice. Candy Crush, spoon stir, runes cast, pancake slice. Candy Crush, spoon stir, runes cast, bacon – mixing it up a little. Candy Crush, spoon stir, runes cast

BAM!!!!

The door of the suite slams open, and there stands Sardis with his foot in the air.

He kicked the door down. What...on….earth…

“I FOUND HIM!” Sardis stomps into the suite toward the table, waving his phone in the air, “I FOUND HIM! I knew I’d seen his face somewhere, and I found him!!”

Crowley sits up straight for once in his life. “Who THE FUCK gave him a key?!”

You avert your gaze. The fishbowl was delicious, and he patted your head afterward and told you everything would be okay! Not your fault….entirely.

There isn’t much time for you to contemplate your guilt because Sardis has turned up the volume on his phone, and pressed play on a Tik Tok video. He turns his phone so that you all can see the screen. A boy with dirty-blonde hair is smiling out of it. His hair is longer in the middle and pouffed up with what is probably a standard-teenager’s worth of hair gel, and the sides are very short with...dollar signs shaved into them. It’s just a Tik Tok video, but you can smell the Axe body spray from here.

“Hey guys!” The smiling teen calls, waving at the camera. “It’s me, ya boy Jeremy. I’m bringing back my most popular series. That’s right! You asked, and I’m answering your prayers! Time to bring back Let’s See What I Can Get Away With Because I’m RICH.”

Your face twists in disgust, and you hear Anathema groan.

“I think we’ve seen quite enough,” Aziraphale says, speaking for you all.

“Are...are you sure that’s Jesus?” You ask. Honestly you’re hoping it’s a joke. You’re hoping beyond hope that this...this...caricature of a person is not the same person who you need to convince to help you save the world.

“Oh yeah,” Sardis replies, “That’s him. Right name and everything.”

“Wot? Jeremy?” asks Crowley with an edge of salty sarcasm.

“No,” Sardis says, “His true name. I know everyone’s, remember? It’s the right kid, you have my word on that.”

Truth be told, you’re still not exactly sure what his word is worth, but for now it’s a lead. You glance at Anathema, who shrugs.

“Fits the bill,” she admits, “All my readings have been...unsettlingly clear about the kind of kid we’re looking for, and I mean...” She gestures helplessly at the phone and the video that Sardis has, thankfully, paused. You blink, dumbstruck. Aziraphale said something last night about Heaven cutting corners. Apparently they had cut the corners so thoroughly they’d made a circle.

Great.

******************

Breakfast suddenly became easier after that. Maybe it was because Sardis was the only one who wasn’t completely despairing over everything, and maybe it was because he was suddenly helping himself to the plates of excess pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Suddenly, you noticed Aziraphale wave a finger and the food was hot again – trying to impress company, or be a good host, or both no doubt. You found that your appetite had suddenly returned, along with your need for caffeine. Even Crowley had grabbed some bacon now that, perhaps, there seemed a less likely chance of him having the choice if he waited any longer. Sardis did most of the talking, explaining that the shortest driving route would take 28 hours. Best to get started asap then.

“I am not listening to anymore of your….Us songs!” Crowley growls at you as soon as you get in the car.

“Not all of them are love songs!” You protest.

“No! No breakup songs either!”

“Fine, fair, but what about -”

“And especially no End-of-the-World songs!” He snarls. You’re pretty sure he’s halfway to hissing at you now. “We have enough of that to deal with assss is!” Ah, there it is.

Ever-so-gently, Aziraphale takes the phone out of your hand.

“Perhaps it’s about time someone else had a turn,” he says. Ah, so he’s finally gotten tired of humouring you and your taste in music. Well, it had to happen eventually.

Unfortunately, this means that you all end up listening to Brandenburg Concerto No 3 in G Major. Well, it could be worse, you figure. At least this song has movement to it, even if it does feel endless based on your musical standards. Crowley is driving and silent, Aziraphale is waving your phone around in the passenger’s seat like a conductor’s baton. The backseat is as follows – You, Sardis, and Anathema.

Yes, Sardis is there. Considering the way he found Jesus – or, Jeremy – so quickly, and the way he seems to be single-handedly keeping everyone’s morale afloat, it seemed a waste to leave him behind. Besides, both Crowley and Aziraphale had tried to make him leave, but he just….stayed. In the end, you pouted, they gave up, and now he’s sitting in the middle of the backseat, because you and Anathema have seniority.

Speaking of Anathema, you notice her very pointedly staring out the window. She looks...stiff. Maybe classical music isn’t her thing? Your suspicions are confirmed approximately nine minutes later when she practically jumps up from her seat and grabs the phone out of Aziraphale’s hand and presses stop. The music comes to a halt and silence fills the SUV. Aziraphale looks shocked and appalled.

“Anathema!” The angel exclaims after a moment. You can practically hear him clutching at his non-existent pearls. You can see him resisting the urge to clutch at his bowtie. “We weren’t even finished the Allegro!”

Anathema takes a deep breath. You’re able to count out a solid beat of ten before she speaks.

“I...am not...listening to classical concertos for 28 hours. I don’t care what key it’s in or how many allegros it’s got!”

Crowley snickers and snorts. “Concertos don’t work like that.” He says. You see Aziraphale gently pat the demon’s knee as if to say ‘that’s my man.’

“Well what would you rather?” Is what Aziraphale actually says, “More bebop?”

“Try me, and I’ll play death metal, I swear I will.”

“Um,” Sardis ventures cautiously, “Can I see that for a minute-- thank you.” He plucks the phone out of Anathema’s hand. After a minute or two of swiping, he taps the screen, and the car fills with songs from well-known musicals. Now, although this isn’t exactly to everyone’s taste, no one can find a good reason to outright hate it. No one can manage to find a good reason not to put up with it, and so by the time Music of the Night has melted into Seasons of Love, everyone has settled down and accepted that things aren’t actually all that bad.

“Impressive,” You mutter, basking in the semi-content vibe. Everyone is still a little on edge, but it feels less intense now.

Sardis smirks. “Six siblings,” he says to you with a small nudge.

“What happened to the others?” Anathema asks, tuning in to the conversation.

“Well,” Sardis sighs, “Of the seven of us - myself, Smyrna, Pergamum, Ephesus, Philadelphia, Thyatira, and Laodicea - Smyrna and Philly were the only ones who didn’t get hate mail. Smyrna was always super into the doctrine. She drank the kool-aid, as the humans here would say, and felt it her calling to ‘return home,’ as she put it. Bullshit, honestly. We weren’t born angels, we were made alongside the churches of Christ. ‘S one of the reasons why they don’t actually give a shit about us.”

“And why you worried that your miracles might get taken away,” You add, putting some of the pieces together. Sardis nods. “Wait, a minute,” You say, “You were made??”

Sardis laughs. “Alright Little Moth, you need to pick a lane here. Do you want to hear about my siblings or how I was born human?”

“You were BORN HUMAN?!” You are practically bouncing right now. What...how… “But you said that you can’t change your species!”

“I said your Miracle Enabler can’t change your species,” He replies with a twinkle in his eyes, “Not that it can’t be done. The seven of us were all born human. We made the first seven churches, so we were made guardians, lower angels. Like...lower than whatever the lowest type of angel you know of is. But we weren’t created as angels like your friends in the front seat.” Movement catches your peripheral vision, and you notice Crowley shifting a little in his seat. No doubt that’s a touchy subject that only Aziraphale is allowed to go anywhere near, but he says nothing. “So they all pretend we don’t exist, and look down on us whenever they need to deal with us. Sort of like we’re --”

“Oh, don’t worry,” You interject, “I read enough fantasy to understand the way magical societies view human-born magic users.” You can imagine that being An Angel of God would probably get old real fast if everyone who was supposed to welcome you actually hated you and made sure you knew it. Goodness knows it got to Aziraphale eventually, makes sense that a human-born angel (a huboan? You’ll work on it) would get sick of it a lot sooner.

“And that’s why I like you Little Moth,” Sardis says with a chuckle and a wink. “Anyway, so I know Smyrna went to Heaven. Philly stayed here. The two of us have always been really close, she stuck with me and we messaged and called and visited all the time until recently. I got some messages from her when the world went nuts during the first apocalypse, but I haven’t heard from her since. She stopped replying to my messages.”

Now it’s your turn to shift uncomfortably in your seat. Your eyes drop to your feet and start to fill with tears, so you change your view to the one outside your window.

“I can relate,” You say after a moment, holding back a sniffle and a sob. Deep breath. “Well, I’m glad you’re sticking with us.” You plaster a smile on your face and turn back to him. “Maybe we can find her.”

He smiles. “That’s what I’m hoping.” For a while, everyone is silent. After a few minutes, Anathema offers to put together a playlist with everyone’s favourite songs. The mood shifts considerably as the five of you spend the next few hours excitedly making musical suggestions.

It’s the best collection of music you’ve ever heard.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

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[toomanythoughts2]

Dethklok Agere HCs: Pickles Edition

🍹🐙🥕🥁🎤🧑‍🎤🍺🫂🍷🍸🥂🥄💉🩲💳💊🚬😡💥🧨🖕💆‍♂️

I wanted to do Pickles 🍹 next because I think he encompasses a range of age regression that isn't your typical shining poster-boy version. I have many thoughts on him that I needed to share before the others. Nathan and Skwisgaar are coming up next, but for now, this is for Pickles 🍹!

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(Pickles, the longer I look at you, the more I realize just how fine you actually are. Like, damn. Anyway...)

🍹 Pickles to me is an older regressor. He's around the pre-teen ages, so around 9 - 12. Just to note, In "Snakes N' Barrels", the old musician that gives Pickles his first guitar said that he was "no more than 16" when he came in. So, if we follow his back story, this is around the age where Pickles was becoming accustomed to drinking heavily. So this is a very tender age for Pickles.

🍹 Like I said with Murderface, Pickles is an Age Dreamer, meaning his regression is voluntary. Pickles can learn to utilize his regression in ways that can help his mental health, but he won't be able to do that until he realizes he regresses.

🍹 Like Murderface, Pickles did not understand at first that he was showing signs of regressing until Toki.

🍹 Because Pickles is one of Toki's main CG, he did not accept or humor the idea that he to could be a regressor. He's been the caregiver for such a long time now that if someone brough it up to him, he would tell them to knock it off. Toki is his main priority at the moment and he needs to be there for him.

🍹 Like Murderface, his regression is not the cute, wholesome stuff that we usually stereotype with regression. His is linked heavily to his past drug and alcohol abuse, his toxic home life, and a very chaotic teenage and young adult life. Thus, creating a very violent regression output.

🍹 It was Dr. Twinkletits that first saw signs of regression in Pickles. It was during one of their own Rock Talks, where 2 and 2 came together. Pickles completely discarded him, but the fear of him being a regressor overcame him in the night, so he drank and smoked till he couldn't lift his head up anymore. The next morning, the thoughts were still present, so he decided to do some of his own research to make them stop.

🍹 How Pickles regression manifests is through violence and abusing drugs and alcohol. I'm not saying that everything adult Pickles does is regression in reference to this, but when it comes to certain situations and how/why he does it, then it can show cast regression. For example, Pickles started drinking at a very very young age to cope. Regression is coping. When Pickles drinks or gets violent after a seriously uncomfortable situation ("Fatherklok") he's doing it because that's how younger him would cope. Being violent came from the chaos that surrounded him, because no one ever listened or paid attention to him. He's violent because that's what got him answers as a kid, so when he beat up Murderface in Fatherklok, that was a form of regression. Same thing in Dethfam when he strangles Seth during his wedding after being bullied the whole day by him and his friends. Both of those episodes also brought up parts of his past, such as Seth being his regular asshole self big brother and Murderface reminding him of his own father and being neglected. Pickles only acted in violence and abuse because of the context in which he was in. In short, it was a trigger. Violence and alcohol abuse are apart of his regression.

🍹 Pickles can be pretty level-headed and the voice of reason when he wants to be. He can be a professional. He can follow his intuition. I think after his own research, he goes back to Dr. Twinkletits and demands to know what he can do to get rid of it. I think because he believes he has to be Toki's Caregiver, he can not allow himself to regress. It's not about being sober, it's about making sure he doesn't accidently slip because of his own problems when (he believes) Toki's problems are way worse. (Trauma Olympics) Dr. Twinkletits helps him but does consult that maybe if he confronted it and told the band, it would be alright. Pickles is very much against that idea.

🍹 He's the hardest of the group to admit it. It takes a good year before Pickles realizes that it would benefit him and the band if he did just come out and say it, because despite trying to "will it away" he keeps slipping back into it. He calls a band meeting and tells them, then threatens them that this doesn't mean they (Toki, Murderface, Skwisgaar) can stop listening to him.

🍹 He has a personal conversation with Nathan about it. He's initially scared by it. Doing it and not knowing about it vs. doing it and knowing about it are two very different feelings. Nathan gets it (Doesn't realize that he also regresses at this point) because he knows that caring for Toki and the band are what's the most important to him right now. Toki and the band are the most important things to Nathan too. But Nathan tells him that no matter what, he's here for him. They've stuck it out through all of this shit, this new piece of information won't frighten him away.

🍹 Toki and him also have a conversation about it. Toki is pleased that Pickles is also a regressor but also very worried. To him, he's scared that Pickles won't want to take care of him anymore. It's frightening to him, he just got his support system back. But he's supportive. Pickles reassurances him that he's not going anywhere, that they are a family. Toki jokes about when he has to take care of Pickles, he'll let Pickles have all the candy he wants, which is something Pickles won't let Toki do. Pickles honks his nose in response.

🍹 Stay with me with what I'm about to say. I believe in order for Pickles to get the full benefits of his regression, he needs discipline. And I don't mean a scolding. I think Pickles had a very real and serious conversation with the guys and Charles that a part of his regression is to do things that are "bad", be punished for them, but still be loved afterwards. He wants the feeling of being cared for enough that someone put rules in place for him to keep him safe and will enact punishment when those rules are broken. As seen in "Fatherklok", Pickles does bad things for attention (Punishment) but in his real life, even running away did not get him the attention he hoped for from his father. He wants to relive those moments, that feeling, that someone cares enough about him that they are willing to be the "bad guy" to keep him safe. While they do have a conversation about more positive ways of seeking attention and reassurance that they are paying attention to him, he's firm in what he wants.

🍹 That being said, I think the different ways Pickles can be disciplined are typical to a regular mid-western suburban up bringing. That means, he wants to be scolded, he wants to be spanked, he wants to be in time out, he wants to be grounded from his hobbies. What he does not want is to be smacked across the face or given the cold shoulder. Both of those are ways he was disciplined that are too close to the real deal. Now, when it comes down to who is giving out these punishments, it depends on the punishment. I think Nathan is the only one that Pickles will listen to in the band (He won't listen to Murderface, Skwisgaar he listens to a little bit, and Toki usually joins in whatever he's doing because it looks like fun.) so most punishments come from him, except spankings. This is where the band is divided the most. None of them want to actually harm Pickles or are uncomfortable doing it, so the only one who will do it is Charles. Charles takes this responsibility very very seriously.

🍹 All of this are just the details to a much deeper want, which is structure. Pickles needs structure in his regression big time. From a young age, his life has been so chaotic and unpredictable with drugs, women, and rock n' roll. He wants to be able to have a space where he knows what's expected of him, what's expected of others, that there is a time and place for activities, that there are rules. He wants to know there there is a hierarchy of people to talk to, that people know what they are suppose to do, with themselves and him. But most of all, he wants to be apart of the structure where he isn't neglected, abused, or blamed.

🍹 Pickles regression, once identified, also forms into a lot of tantrums (Do you see the pattern yet?) Except Pickles tantrums are physically violent due to fear of losing attention. Murderface throws tantrums because he's worried and anxious and misconstrues people's actions and words. Toki throws tantrums because he gets triggered from past events that send him into fight/flight mode. They all throw tantrums for very different reasons.

🍹 Pickles tantrums, while violent, don't last long. They are short bursts of anger, usually destroying something around him, then dissolves into instant regret and sadness. It's a rollercoaster of emotions for sure, the band needs to be there for him when the eventual fall happens.

🍹 Pickles has a weird feeling toward motherly figures when he's regressed. He has a lot of want for his mother, despite his mother not really wanting him. That same kind of desperation bleeds into his regression, but at the same time, he hates that feeling. He wants his mom to notice him, love him, comfort him, see his accomplishments. He feels weird when he gets that attention from other women when regressed, like a female klokateer or even Abigail (if she's around.) To him, it almost feels like "cheating". Like it's soiled praise meant for someone else. They make him feel "weird", something he still isn't able to pinpoint with Dr. Twinkletits. The band and Charles have all decided that it would be best to avoid female interactions when Pickles is feeling regressed to avoid these feelings until they can be identified.

🍹 Any and all mentions of Seth are NOT ALLOWED! It sends him into a horrible rage than ends in a crying fit. It's completely banned.

🍹 When he regresses, knowingly, his accent gets worse. The only one who can understand him is Nathan.

🍹 A lot of common midwestern foods cause him to regress and he will request those types of food when he is regressed because it does provide a bit of nostalgia for him. In one of the special feature DVD extras, Pickles stated that his mom used to make bowls of mayo for dinner, so I see him asking for bowls of mayo when he's small.

🍹 I see him wanting to do things that he didn't necessarily get to do around this age due to either his internal rage, his drinking and drug use, or his unstable home life. Like stereotypical pre-teen things like riding bikes or having sleep overs or having pool/summer parties. He wants to experience these areas without fear and anger (and Seth).

🍹 Further note, he also wants to re-do a lot of things in his past. Specifically, Birthdays. He wants to re-do his 10th birthday because Seth managed to not only take over the entire party onto himself, he was also blamed for another incident in the house, which caused him to lose all of his presents and privileges. The band takes this very seriously and throw Pickles the best 10th birthday imaginable! Pool party with a blow-up castle, hot dogs and hamburgers, a sheet cake with buttercream frosting, and lots and lots of presents! Pickles is so happy that he starts crying half way through "Happy Birthday". Nathan gets him an all access pass to a vintage arcade. Murderface gets him an original Atari 2600. Toki gets him an Easy Bake Oven. Skwisgaar gets him Boggle. Charles gets him Rock 'em Sock 'em Robots.

🍹 Like Murderface, he wouldn't use any typical regression supplies but does like to get into comfier clothes.

🍹 However, because Pickles' regression is tied so closely to drugs and alcohol, he does still do those things when he's regressed. The difference is how he does it. He sneaks. He hides the beer cans under his shirt and smokes his joints in the bathroom with the window up and the fan on. It's a split debate amongst the band as they don't necessarily know if it's healthy for him to do these things when he's regressed. Dr. Twinkletits reminds them at Pickles is fully aware of what he is doing and his hiding and sneaking his substances is part of the regression, than it's best to leave it be. If Pickles were to decide one day that he doesn't want to be allowed to do those things when he's regressed, and wants the band to intervene, then that is when they should do something. If Pickles were in fact age regressing involuntarily, then it would be a completely different discussion, but it's not. Pickles voluntarily lets himself regress, therefore, he's in charge of how he wants it. Though, Nathan has talked to Pickles about limiting what he sneaks because he is worried. They've come to an agreement that Pickles will only use what he was already using at that time in his life, which were your basic beers and joints. It's a compromise they're both happy with. Pickles can still sneak and his regression feels more authentic and Nathan knows that he isn't going to walk in on Pickles regressed doing heroin.

🍹 Like Murderface, he hates SPF. Nathan holds him until he's coated three times before he lets him go outside and play.

🍹 Pickles is a little self-conscious of his freckles and hair color when he's smaller because he was always made fun of for it growing up. The jokes "Red-headed step child" really did a number on him in the 70's growing up. Also a lot of Ginger jokes made him self-conscious as well. The band works on giving him compliments and reassurances about those features in order to make him feel better. Toki is the best at it, since he has always been the most genuine compliment giver. Though Skwisgaar is able to give him very specific compliments that don't make him feel worse but they don't make him feel good either. Murderface tries but sometimes they come off a little flat, but the intentions are always good. Nathan gives very basic compliments, but they're always meant.

🍹 Pickles will deny his regression to anyone other than his bandmates and Charles. He will not let word slip about it outside of the group and will get viciously violent if someone makes a claim. It's not that he feels ashamed, but more about having to protect his other titles. He also does not trust people to understand him and his regression and does not want people putting their nose in his business. He saw what it did to Toki (hated it) and will not let it happen to him.

🍹 For my fellow Trans!Pickles truthers, this ones for you! 9 - 12 is the age range where Pickles first noticed that he did not like what was happening to him puberty-wise. Now, Modern-Pickles is already decades away from that stage and is happily settled in his identity. But when he is this age, those feelings sometimes come back. He didn't get the gender-affirming support from his family, so he used other methods to achieve it. But when he is regressed, the band puts things in motion to actively support his identity. That could come in all different ways like Nathan helping him pick out a binder, even though he doesn't need one. He never got the experience of having someone help him look, or to even look in the first place. They up the usage of masculine words like "Boy" "Dude" "Man" "Buddy" "Pal" "Guy" things that would help solidify that position in the group. Skwisgaar takes him out clothes shopping to help build a new wardrobe for his "special guy" (He can't say this to Pickles with Toki around because it will trigger his regression and then he will get jealous of Skwisgaar's attention. It's inevitable.) Murderface and Toki include him as "one of the dudes" in their dumb shit adventures, like sneaking out to go drink somewhere on the property or go smash something with bats. Pickles is always very grateful for this.

🍹 He reads so many comic books when he's regressed. Like a crazy amount of comic books. Especially Conan the Barbarian, Marvel and DC, Archie, Grimm's Ghost Stories, and MAD. He also loves Sunday comic strips. He will read them with the band on Sundays every morning during breakfast. It's their little ritual whether or not Pickles is regressed.

🍹 Warning, this one is a little explicit (??) Not sure how to label it but it's not anything bad. So this next one is a 50/50 HC with me, depending on how real I want this to get. Pickles did not have a normal childhood AT ALL, so I think his regression is very very very different from everyone else in comparison to what they do. Keep that in mind.

I know, as a former child, that 9 - 12 was when I was starting to discover my body, so it's probably the same age that Pickles would discover his. I don't think it's imperative to his regression that Pickle's discovers his body, but I think it will happen given enough time. Like how he sneaks with drugs and alcohol, he might also sneak off to explore himself.

If we want to get real, his own childhood is probably riddled with transactional sex for booze and drugs, especially since he has been drinking since he was 6. Remember, he started Snakes n' Barrels at 16, still a minor and only 10 years after he started. He is most likely a victim in some shape or form, even if he doesn't see himself as one (I HC they he has a hard time referring to himself as a victim in relation to anything that happened to him due to drugs and alcohol.) That could very well translate into his regression, where this might be the first time where he feels safe enough to explore himself without the lingering fear and shame. It could also be tied into taking back control that he once lost at that age. Where his body was a tool to further his substance abuse, and not something that he could just have to himself.

All of this is not talked about with the band directly from Pickles, but Pickles does talk about it with Dr. Twinkletits. Dr. Twinkletits in turn, tells the band as delicately as possible that this could happen, and if it does and you accidently run across it, leave him be. Do not interrupt or stop him. It's an unspoken acceptance that this is just something Pickles needs to work through. I know this is a more controversial take with age regression, so if you don't personally vibe with this, that's perfectly fine.

🍹 Pickles does not want a caregiver like Toki, who wants parental care givers, but he doesn't want to regress alone without them like Murderface. Pickles wants a Big Brother caregiver. Seth is a piece of shit but that doesn't stop Pickles from wishing he had a cool, protective big brother unlike Seth. So the band are all of his Big Brothers who look out for him but let him get away with shit. They tussle and fuss but also respect each other and love one another. He especially wants the feeling of being protected by an older sibling. When Nathan or Charles might be gearing up to discipline Pickles, one of the others will step in and try to talk Pickles out of it. Or they'll defend him and keep him close. It's a fine line of wanting protection from a older sibling and wanting discipline from an authoritarian figure. He does get a warm feeling when they help him with something or pass down "big brother advice" or think he's cool. It makes him feel smaller and softer.

🍹 He eats Play Dough. I think it would be the salt inside of it. He also eats chalk and newspaper. Charles has him checked out in case he is low on vitamins and is trying replenish them by eating non-food items. He's fine, he just likes the taste.

🍹 He does the middle finger when you turn around when he gets scolded. The others find it so funny because sometimes he isn't fast enough to put it away and gets caught.

🍹 Pickles rediscovers a lot of old books he used to read as a child but never finished. He spends a good amount of time re-reading them and actually finishing them. He finished The Outsiders, Carrie (Personal Favorite!), Who Censored Roger Rabbit (Personal Favorite!), Jaws (I want to read this one.), and Are You There God? It's Me, Margert, which I see being his "guilty pleasure" book that he would read over and over again. The others will offer him snacks during his reading time or give him a blanket if it's cold.

🍹 Pickles is a whiner. If doesn't want to do something, he moans and groans the whole way through. He doesn't want to pick up his clothes or put his dishes in the sink. He doesn't want to sit up in his chair right.

🍹 He has one stuffed animal that he keeps on his bed that Toki got him. It's a stuffed dog named Max. When he's not feeling small, he keeps him on his dresser to safe keeping.

🍹 He demands to have sleepovers in Nathan's room all the time, whether or not the others want to join. They get snacks and candy and watch R-rated horror movies and sneak a beer or two. It makes him feel giddy and playful and happy. He's having the fun he wished he could of had as a child with a friend, while doing things he's not suppose to with someone who won't tattle on him. He's also a cuddlier at these parties. A part of him just wants to be held while he sleeps.

🍹 Pickles loves to drum when he's small too. He played the drums as a kid, so he probably used it a lot to get out his anger and frustrations. It's not good playing, it's not meant to be. It's just a lot of him getting out his emotions and going through the motions. Like that scene from Hey Arthur where Francine is playing the drums and singing at the same time and is god awful at it. That's Pickles playing the drums when he's younger.

🍹 They have caught him from time to time trying on his old Snakes n' Barrels clothes. Kind of like dress up. He's always shy when it happens but the others don't joke him too hard about it.

🍹 He gets along with Murderface well when they are both regressed. They're just similar in age enough to be able to play peacefully, or as peacefully as two young children can play. Toki, not so much. He's usually too small to really play with them and it triggers a part of Pickles that needs to care for Toki, forcing him out of his regression. Because of that, Toki can't be around Pickles when they're both regressed.

🍹 Skwisgaar and Murderface take him to destruction rooms to get out his anger. It works very well but it's a pain trying to get him out of the room. He wants to stay there forever.

🍹 Pickles feels very "in charge" of his regression. He doesn't like the spontaneous nature of it and really only wants to regress in a controlled environment, like Mordhaus, and with select people, Dethklok and Charles.

🍹 Legos. He will sit and build Legos until his fingers bleed. He had a bin at home when he was much younger but they got taken away from him because Seth kept complaining that he was hurting his foot by stepping on them. Toki and Murderface take him to the Lego store as often as they can to get new sets. They all sit and build together, usually watching something or listening to music.

🍹 Pickles has a lot of musical knowledge. He loves talking about different bands and musicians and comparing songs. Nathan and Skwisgaar are the best with these conversations, as they can keep up with him. They talk shop and even formulate some new drum beats during this time. Nathan refers to it as priceless.

🍹 He does have a curfew but he also breaks curfew a lot. He's suppose to go to bed by 9, but he'll sneak a little to stay up till 10. This usually ends with Charles and Nathan putting him back to bed, tucked under the covers tightly. Pickles finds it funny. As a child, he would have been smacked or yelled at for be up so late, but this was nicer.

🍹 Very rarely will Pickles regression dip lower than 9. But it does happen. It usually happens after talking to his mother, father, or brother. He gets as low as 6, maybe 5, but it's only for a short while. This is when he needs the most support.

🍹 Toki is very protective of Pickles when Pickles is regressed. He knows how hard Pickle works to keep him happy and safe, and he wants to "repay" that somehow by making his regression just as safe. It's a little annoying but overall very sweet.

🍹 Skwisgaar will give Pickles impromptu guitar lessons when they are alone. They both get a bit of nostalgia when they do one of these lessons. It reminds Pickles of happier moments in his life when his actual guitar teacher was helping him learn. He likes the act of learning from someone who cares about him. The gentle encouragements, the finger placements, the thoughtfulness. It makes him feel good.

🍹🐙🥕🥁🎤🧑‍🎤🍺🫂🍷🍸🥂🥄💉🩲💳💊🚬😡💥🧨🖕💆‍♂️

I hope y'all can see the vision I'm trying to paint here with Pickles. He is a very unwell man who just wants to be loved. I think I channeled him well. I love Pickles, my little octopus. Obvi, if you have any HCs of your own, tell me about them! OK, love you, bye! 👋

[sserpente]

A/N: I had this idea a while back. It’s not necessarily that Christmassy so if you’re going to read this outside of the Christmas season or you don’t celebrate Christmas, you’ll be fine too. Have fun!

Words: 2892 Warnings: spiked drink/drug consumption, fluff

“I can’t believe you persuaded me to come.” Eddie took a puff from his cigarette, eyeing the ongoing party through his open van window up and down with dismay. People he knew from school but never spoke to crowded the place, some of them dancing, some of the snogging, some of them puking and all of them drinking.

Now Eddie wasn’t opposed to a few good beers and raiding his uncle’s spirit cabinet every now and then but the mindless High School partying had certainly never been his cup of tea—regardless of the fact that no one ever invited him anyway.

“You wanted to come!” Dustin exclaimed over the loud music. It was his first party since joining High School. Lucas had convinced the other jocks to invite him and his friends and now here he was, making sure little Henderson didn’t do anything stupid.

“I only came because you said there were gonna be drugs.” Plus, he wouldn’t say no to selling a few bags tonight himself. He could use the cash, especially after Wayne had confessed money was gonna be tight for the rest of the month.

“Look, I don’t like these parties either but Lucas wanted us to come and we’re gonna have fun and have a drink and dance…” Dustin offered him a goofy and innocent smile. Eddie smirked, ruffling the younger boy’s hair. He took a final puff from his cigarette and got out of the car. He’d get back home to his beloved guitar to practice some new tunes soon enough. Henderson wouldn’t make it past 1 am, he was sure of that.

-

You liked winter-break-Christmas parties. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself to not feel completely crazy and like an old woman. Loud music, teens rubbing their body parts on each other, underage drinking and sometimes, more often than not, destroyed furniture. Your social battery was running low today. In fact, it always ran low. But this was what you were supposed to be doing, right? Partying, enjoying life, enjoying your youth and doing stupid things before you had to grow up and do your taxes and shit.

Of all people, it had been your mum to let you come here in the first place, to meet new people and finally make friends because apparently, it was abnormal to move to a new place and go unnoticed for over a year. Well, you enjoyed the solitude and the additional time the loner method gave you to read and plan your next concerts.

At least the alcohol was good. You’d already had a beer and now made your way back to the hallway with a red plastic cup filled with an unknown mix of expensive spirits—the good stuff—in hand, too lost in thought to watch where you were going… well, actually you were avoiding looking people in the eye, when you bumped into a leather jacket and a washed-out Metallica shirt.

“Oh, sorry…” You choked out, your words swallowed by the loud bass of the music—and gasped for air when your eyes locked with a pair of chocolate button eyes. Eddie The Freak Munson offered you an apologetic smile and raised his hands in defeat. Not exactly what you had expected from someone who dressed like him and regularly brought the teachers at school to a white rage but who you were you to judge? Most people didn’t even know your name here in Hawkins.

The thing was just… you had spoken before. O’Donnells had made a habit out of pairing the two of you during her classes. You were both so equally horrible at Spanish that she must have given up on making an effort for you to improve and just let you do your grammatically horrendous thing. Eddie was doodling in class most of the time or singing and playing some song in his head but still, lessons with him were always… fun. In fact, Eddie was adorable. You’d long have made a move to ask him out if you had the guts to do it. Judging by his battle jacket, he did like the same music, after all.

“You okay?” Eddie tilted his head, his expression getting a little more serious. “You look a little uncomfortable.”

“I think I’ve come to the conclusion I don’t like crowds unless there’s a stage with a band playing right in front of me,” you said.

“Fair point. Why did you come?”

“I’m not sure… aren’t we supposed to like all this?” You gestured around the overcrowded hallway.

“Nah… being like everyone else is overrated,” he responded with a wink. Your heart skipped a beat.

Grinning and to conceal how flustered he’d just made you, you asked, “Why… are you here then, Munson?”

“Henderson. It’s his first party.”

“Oh. That’s… nice of you.” You leaned against your wall, taking a huge gulp from your cup. Whatever it was, it tasted amazing. Fruity. You drank some more. “It doesn’t feel like a Christmas party though.”

“The tree is missing. Definitely,” he agreed, sarcasm dripping from his voice. You looked at each other for a moment and laughed.

“How’s, uh… how’s your music coming along?” You asked, genuine interest swinging in your voice. You drank some more. The alcohol was making you brave. Made it easier for you to talk to Eddie. Well, perhaps that was also because you were not trying to speak to him in Spanish.

“Pretty well, actually. We play gigs at the Hideout now.”

“Oh, that’s cool!” Another gulp. “You should make some posters and plaster them outside of Hawkins to raise some attention.”

“Yeah, we should… we should.” You had a feeling he didn’t elaborate because printing posters cost a shit ton of money. You couldn’t blame him and you doubted they were getting paid for their gigs. You felt your cheeks heating up when he gave you a smile instead, his brown eyes drifting to your hand holding the cup for a moment.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot!”

“Could you… help me paint my nails sometime?”

“Your nails? Your nails?” You took a look at your own nails. You didn’t think you’d ever used a colour other than black.

“Yeah… I think it would look quite metal.”

You laughed. “Well… you’re not wrong. But if that’s the case, you should go all the way out and make your eyes pop with black eyeliner.”

Eddie’s eyes practically lit up.

“I can lend you mine,” you continued. “If you’re gonna get sweaty during your gig you want something that lasts, not the cheap stuff from the drugstore.”

“Is there a catch?” He asked, almost suspiciously. You shook your head.

“No.” Your lips parted when his expression hardened with a start and he stared at someone in the distance somewhere behind you.

“Everything okay?” Another gulp. Damn, that drink was really good. You’d emptied half of it already.

“Just… Carver and his laundry basket crew…” He turned back to you. “Hey, do you mind if we head to the porch for a moment?”

“Ugh… he still thinks you’re a satanic cult leader, huh?”

Eddie shrugged his shoulders as you followed him outside. You let out a sigh of relief when the sounds of the party got quieter, replaced by the peaceful chirping of the cicadas.

“I mean, what does he think you’re going to do? Dice them to death?”

His laugh went down like soft butter, caressing your ears and his grin… his grin made your heart flutter. Damn it. You weren’t about to develop a crush on this man, were you?

“Maybe… I could imagine throwing a D20 at people with full force hurts.”

“You should hide under the tribune during the next game and do that just to make a point,” you suggested, giggling to yourself. That drink was kicking in fast. Might as well use the liquid courage to have a proper conversation with Eddie.

“Tell me about your game. I don’t know an awful lot about D&D but it sounds creative.”

Eddie mimicked you when you leaned against the wall, crossing his arms before his chest. His boyish grin grew even wider as he began to tell you about his newest campaign that was going to “wreck the boys”.

You weren’t sure how many minutes passed, only that your cup got lighter and lighter—much like your head. You stumbled a little, blinking just a little too fast.

“You okay?” Eddie tilted his head, stopping his passionate retelling. The question was reasonable. You felt… funny, to say the least. Funny enough to throw yourself into Eddie’s arms and squeeze him tight. “You are sooo handsome, you know? I just don’t have the balls to tell you. Plus I don’t know how to say it in Spanish,” you giggled, pressing your cheek against his shirt. He smelled nice, minus the cigarette smoke.

Eddie caught you, almost losing his balance in the process. “Uh…”

“I’m soo happy you’re here. I’m soo happy I’m here!” You giggled once more, a lot more hysterically this time.

Eddie pushed you an arm’s length away from him, concern visible on his face. You didn’t register it properly but giggled when he cupped your face with both his calloused hands, his cold rings cooling your heated cheeks. He looked you deep in the eye, almost as if to inspect them.

“Shit…”

“Whaaat?”

“Do you feel… high… by any chance?” Your eyes widened.

“I’m high?” You screeched.

“Give me that.” Eddie didn’t wait for an answer. Unceremoniously, he snatched the red cup from your hand and gave it a sniff. Then he took a sip and spat it out only a heartbeat later.

“What’s happening to me, Eddie?” You giggled once more.

“Someone’s spiked your drink.”

“Whaaaaat?” You drew the word out even more this time. Granted, that would explain the funny feeling. You wanted to cover Eddie in kisses until he begged you for mercy—everywhere. His face, his hands and those damned rings, his chest, his thighs… his cock… oh fuck, you really were high.

“Yeah. And they didn’t exactly measure the dose by the taste of that.”

“How do you even taste that?”

“That’s… a question for another time. Come on… woah… careful.” Eddie caught you just in time when you lost your balance and almost collided with the ground. “Do you have a ride home?”

“Nooo…”

“What, were you gonna walk?”

“Not too far.”

“Not too far? You don’t live too far away, you mean?” Eddie sighed, frustration visible on his handsome and cute face when you only shrugged. He put an arm around you to give you support, reluctantly leading you back inside.

“Hey, Harrington, are you drunk?” He called out when he found who he seemed to be looking for.

“What? No.”

“Can you take Henderson home for me later?”

“Sure… what happened?” Steve eyed you up and down, his lips slightly parted. You chuckled. You used to have the biggest crush on him when you first moved here—much like everyone else.

“Drugs. Overdose. Drink spiked. Quite possibly Ecstasy.”

“Shit… Eddie, she needs a hospital.”

“Nah, that’s just gonna get her in trouble once she’s all sobered up. And me too, given that I’m the one who’d take her there. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen that, I’ll make sure she’s okay.”

“Alright… but call me if something goes wrong. I’ll be calling it a night soon.”

Eddie grinned at him. “You’re getting old, big boy.”

It was the last thing you remembered him saying before the world went blurry and all you could still think about was how you wanted to crawl under Eddie’s skin to cuddle him properly.

-

Ow. The headache was terrible. You woke up to a spinning room, your brain pounding against your skull. You sat up, making the spinning even worse, and opened your eyes, rubbing your temples in the process.

Weird. You didn’t remember taking your shoes and jacket off before you went to bed. In fact, you couldn’t remember going to bed altogether. And… since when did you have a Metallica poster on your door?

Confused, you looked around. This wasn’t your room. There were clothes scattered all over, a crazy expensive-looking e-guitar hanging on the wall next to two pairs of… handcuffs? Oh, and the surfaces of the desk and his nightstand were practically invisible. Were those condoms? You blushed. Oh… oh fuck, what if you…?

Your heart skipped a beat when the door opened and the man in question entered his room, closing the door behind him quietly. He froze when you realised you had woken up.

“Hi…”

“Hey… uh…”

“There’s some water on the nightstand. Don’t worry I put it there just before you woke up, hasn’t been sitting there for days. You gotta hydrate.”

“Thank you.” Taking him up on his offer, you reached for the glass and emptied it with but a few greedy gulps.

“What… what happened?” You asked.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Well… we talked… we went outside because you wanted to avoid Jason and the others… I… I think we were talking about D&D? The rest… the rest is all gone.”

“That drink you had was spiked with drugs,” Eddie said matter-of-factly. You’d never seen him so serious. You clutched the empty glass tighter. “Some stupid party game. They fill up a bunch of cups with alcohol and mix drugs in a few of them. Whoever gets ‘lucky’ to drink it up…” His hand movement explained the rest. Ends up like you. “I took you home as soon as I realised. But then I also realised that I have no idea where you live so… I brought you to my place. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. Thank you, Eddie. What was that in that drink anyway?”

“Ecstasy, I think. That shit is intense on its own but whatever asshole put it in your drink, they didn’t dose it right. That, uh… could have killed you. But,” he went on, sitting down on a chair the wrong way around, “you’re not vomiting your guts out right now so that’s a good sign.”

“Oh. Good to know.” You paused, biting your lower lip. “Eddie… we, uh… we didn’t… um… you know… right?”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Oh no! No, no, no, don’t worry, sweetheart. I just… got rid of your shoes and your jacket and tucked you into bed. Even slept on the couch like a true gentleman,” he responded, grinning proudly in the process.

“Oh good… I just thought…” You glanced at the condoms on the nightstand.

“Oh yeah… I… didn’t expect to have anyone over. Didn’t bother cleaning up a little.”

You nodded. His room was pretty much exactly how you’d imagined it. Full of metal stuff and records, plastered in posters, a little chaotic and messy but all in all, cosy and homely.

“What else… did I say… and do? I literally… I don’t remember anything.”

“Not much… Uh… you were giggling a lot on the ride here.”

“W-what else?”

The metalhead shrugged. “You were all over me… but you would have found a tree attractive in that state, so don’t worry about it…”

Your lips parted. Oh. So your high self had admitted to Eddie that you were crushing on him. Just great. “I don’t, I… I mean, I do… never mind.” Your head was still hurting way too much to confess your feelings, even if you longed to give him some confidence he appeared to be lacking with you. A tree. A fucking tree. Did he not realise how incredibly hot he was?

“D-Does anyone know I’m here?” You asked then, if anything to shut up your brain.

“Harrington does. But the police don’t have a clue about what happened if that’s what you’re wondering.”

You let out a breath of relief. “Thank you… my mum would have quite possibly killed me.”

Eddie smiled. “Yeah… well, your secret’s safe with me. To be fair, you didn’t know what you were drinking. Shit like that is dangerous.”

“I think… I think I do remember something though. How… how did you know I was high and not just tipsy?”

You watched him shift in his chair a little. Pleasant shivers ran up and down your spine when he spoke your name. “I, uh… deal. I know a thing or two about drugs and I know how to do it safely… more or less.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…”

Silence spread between you. Comfortable silence. Who knows what would have happened last night if Eddie hadn’t been there to recognise your symptoms and take you to his place to rest? You couldn’t believe people made him out to be a villain. He was most definitely one of the sweetest men you’d ever met.

“Eddie…?”

He looked up, a little unsure of what to say, so it seemed.

“You wouldn’t, uh… like to… go out sometime, would you?”

“Go out? With you?” He raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

“Yes…” You smiled. “Besides… I owe you some nail polish and eyeliner. After last night’s stunt, you can have both.”

Eddie grinned sheepishly. “There’s an amazing band playing just outside of Hawkins next week. I can get you a ticket?”

A metal concert—that sounded like a perfect date idea for someone like Eddie. You chuckled. “Of course. Let’s do it. I’ll bring the make-up, promise.”

-

A/N: I saw some videos of Joseph speaking some German words in Dortmund. I am deceased, he is adorable! Alright... I hope you enjoyed that, haha!

Also, my first novel is coming out! FINALLY! Check out my pinned post on my blog for more details! ♥

[random-imagines-blog]

All of the Feelings {Charlie Walker x FTM!Reader NSFW Oneshot}              

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 5064 Summary: You've always had a crush on the long haired nerd. When you get invited to a party at Kirby's, you have the chance to get more than a little close. Warnings: Some bullying, Transphobia, kissing, handjob, I think that's it?

Charlie had been one of the few people who never seemed to judge you for the transition that you started to make during your younger teen years. Woodsboro was a small town, so everyone seemed to know everyone. Most of the people that you went to school with now, you had gone to school with when you were Mommy’s little princess, being forced to wear the pretty dresses to school and to wear your hair long, no matter how uncomfortable it had made you. You got a lot of flak from your classmates. They didn’t understand, or they just thought it was a waste, or they thought it was disgusting. You learned how to tell just from the way that their eyes flickered at you. But Charlie’s? Never once did he seem to give you anything other than a curious look.  

When you were grouped together for class assignments, he never tried to complain to the teacher about needing another partner. He didn’t just dump all the work on you so that he didn’t have to spend any time with you. And to you, someone who felt lost and confused in their own skin until you started to take the testosterone and started growing into features that you had always wanted - appreciated that more than you could ever know. Not friends, exactly, even though you had joined his Film Club. But something a little kinder than just acquaintances.  

Developing a crush on the long-haired, shy boy was easier than expected. As you transitioned from a straight female into a gay male, your feelings and hormones were all over the place but the way that your heart started beating faster and how your words seemed to come out so awkwardly when you were around him, that never once changed. But unfortunately, one other thing that never changed was the fact that his blue eyes were almost always focused on Kirby Reed. 

Of course, he was a straight guy, so he was never going to look at you that way. But you could dream, couldn’t you? You can imagine that he was looking at you while talking about movies during the Film Club. Or that you were sitting beside him on a couch during the club nights at Kirby’s house, holding hands underneath the blanket. Or that you and he were sharing the same hot and heavy scenes that couples do in the movies before they usually get slaughtered by some slasher. You could dream and imagine. But it didn’t come without a little bit of hurt when you were snapped back to reality. 

And reality was crashing down hard today. The Film Club was having a party, not just a movie watching night. It was Kirby and Jill’s idea, and they were the ones that had put it together at Kirby’s large, and usually empty, house. You really debated going or not, standing in front of your mirror and trying on different outfits. This was totally different from the usual thing. Movie nights, you were all sitting in the dark, in different places on the couch or on the floor, usually wrapped in blankets. There wasn’t much talking until after the movies were done and that’s when you’d just see yourself out, no one really stopping you. But a party? With drinking and talking and dancing and who knows what else. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be discouraging me from parties?” You asked your mom, who was helping you to put together your outfit. Despite taking a little time to come around to your transition, she has become your biggest supporter. She was unrolling the collar from your shirt where it had gone into the neckline. “Teenage drinking, bad? Drugs bad? All of that sleazy sexy stuff, bad?” 

“You need a healthy dose of rebellion,” Your mother said, looking you over and then shook her head, going back to your closet. “Just don’t get alcohol poisoning, and don’t try anything harder than weed.” 

“Mom!” You groaned, taking off the shirt that you had just put on.  

“And remember, I put those condoms in your wallet. Don’t nag at me about not needing them either. I didn’t think that I needed one and look at what happened,” She hummed, and looked over her shoulder at you while tugging out one of your favorite shirts. “What about this one?” 

“Anything to get me out of here,” you said, snatching it from her and put it over your head. With your binder on to press in what little you had on your chest, it sat rather well, looking flat against your body. That and a comfortable pair of pants, and you guessed that you were ready to party. “Should I ... really go? What if they don’t want me there?” 

“They invited you, didn’t they?” 

“Maybe they meant everyone in the film club except for me. It’s not like I’m friends with them or anything, exactly.” 

“Isn’t this a good place to start?” Your mother said softly. “You can even borrow the car if you promise me that you won’t drink. That way you can leave when you like.” 

You sighed and let her give you the keys. She really was your number one supporter - and sometimes, MAYBE, on OCCASION, she made good points. Maybe you’ll finally be able to talk to Charlie tonight. It seemed unlikely given your promise not to drink but - it was possible. 

-- 

Music could be heard as soon as you got out of the car. You parked on the street since the long driveway was filled up to the brim. You put your hands in your pockets as you started to walk up towards the brightly lit house, pausing near the front door. What was party etiquette? You had never been here without knocking before. The music was so loud, there was no way that it would be heard if you did it now.  

Tentatively, you opened the door, and the music grew louder. There were a couple of people milling around the living room but most of the noise, and the action, seemed to be coming from the kitchen. You nodded towards the people that you knew and followed the sounds of the cheering.  

“CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG!” 

It was louder than the beat coming from the speakers, like a song of its own. A chant. A ritualistic calling out.  

It was Robbie that was doing the chugging. For some odd reason, this group had poured a bunch of beers into a juice pitcher, and he was drinking it right from the spout. The froth was all over his upper lip, coating the end of the nose, but he kept on going. Your own nose curled at how that must have smelt. Beer always gave you this feeling of going to sneeze.  

“Oh hey!” Kirby said, coming up beside you. From the smell of her, she had just been chugging too. “Did you - drive here?” She paused to hiccup. 

“Uhh - yeah,” you said with an uncertain nod. 

“Nooo,” She pouted. “I wanted you to chug too. Do you want to stay over? You can totally sleep over here, then we can really party tonight.” 

Now that was an invitation that you certainly had not been expecting. “Umm - my mom needs the car in the morning, I’d better not,” You lied quickly. 

“Come on Kirby, stop trying to pressure him,” Olivia said, saving your butt in that moment. And the way that she had just casually called you him ... it brought on a sort of fluttering feeling in your stomach. Maybe coming here wasn’t such a bad idea after all. “Besides, that means more booze for us!” 

“True!” Kirby said, lighting back up. “There are some sodas in the fridge if you get thirsty, I guess. Help yourself?” 

“Thanks Kirby,” you said with a light smile. You were going to do that, making your way to the large fridge and opening it up. The contents of it proved how rich Kirby’s family was. There was so much produce in there, good stuff from the farmers markets too, all packed up in neat containers. Not like the thin plastic bags from the grocery store that your own family used. Another wave of jealousy towards the blonde girl came over you and you took a can of your favorite soda down from the shelf.  

“Hey, can I get one?” 

The voice made you jump. You had just been closing the door to the fridge when it seemed like Charlie had popped up out of nowhere, right behind it. He chuckled a little at scaring you, running his hands through his extremely soft-looking, fluffy long hair. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, sheepishly. 

“It’s okay,” you said slowly, and grabbed another can before letting the door close completely. “Here.” 

“Thanks y/n,” he said, holding up the soda like he was giving a cheer, and then walked off to cheer on Robbie. You watched him go, that butterfly feeling from earlier increasing inside of your stomach. You quickly took a drink to try to drown those butterflies so you could act like ... well, a normal person. A normal guy at a party.  

Robbie finished chugging, and looked like he was going to blow chunks at any second. You winced as he opened up his mouth, expecting him to gag, but he let out a huge belch instead and patted his stomach. It was nearly as disgusting as you thought it was going to be. But everyone was cheering him on, like not barfing was something to be totally proud of. 

“Let’s play some games,” Kirby said with excitement, starting to pull people into the living room. You followed along, holding onto your can of soda, curious to see what kind of games she would be pulling out. “Everyone sit in a circle! Come on, everyone!” 

It seemed a little juvenile but ... you just wanted to be part of the group, so you sat down next to Olivia, who gave you a friendly smile. You returned it back, and watched as Kirby put a beer bottle down in the middle of the circle, making people groan, 

“Spin the bottle? We’re not in junior high,” Jill said, nudging the pretty blonde. 

“That’s why it’s a mix of Spin the Bottle and Seven Minutes in Heaven,” Kirby said with a big grin. “Come on, I’ve wanted to play this since we cleaned out that closet over there,” She motioned to what you had just assumed to be a broom closet. Oh god. Spin the Bottle was one thing but Seven Minutes in Heaven? Being stuck in a closet with someone. You made the moves to start getting up, already thinking about excuses but someone beat you to it. 

Trevor Sheldon. He never really liked you. And he had always made it perfectly clear. While most people at least tried to go along with your pronouns, or simply just forgot, he made sure to use ‘she/her’ while looking right into your eyes, making sure that it would hurt. He’d tell you that your ‘jugs were too good’ to be wasted on becoming a guy. Once, while drunk, he even offered to ‘treat you like a woman so good, you’ll forget all this boy nonsense’. Out of everyone here, he was the one that you disliked the most, but it was an avoidant sort of hate. Not a ‘mess with him’ sort of hate.  

“Oh, if that thing is playing, I’m out,” Trevor said, pointing directly at you, making your cheeks start to feel warm from the shame of being called out like this.  

“Oh, shut up Trevor,” Jill said to her ex-boyfriend.  

“Yeah, are you scared you’d like it if he was in the closet with you?” Jenny Randall said. There was drama between that boy and those two girls, so you’ve heard, so you figured that they weren’t actually sticking up for you. They just wanted to kick him down. 

“It’s okay, I can go,” you said, not wanting to cause a scene.  

“No, come on y/n, stay,” Kirby said, reaching out for you with grabby arms. “I want you to play with us. You never come out to these things. Trevor can fuck off; we don’t care about him.” 

Trevor scoffed, looking offended as the girls ganged up on him. You hesitantly sat back down with a little smile, mouthing a thank you to Kirby. She just gave you the biggest and brightest smile. She was really hard to dislike, but so easy to feel jealous of. She just had it all. She was perfect. You could completely understand why someone like her would keep Charlie’s head turned.  

“Fuck you guys,” Trevor said, shooting the middle finger. “I wouldn’t want to end up with any of you in the closet anyway.” 

“Thank god for that,” Jill retorted back. “Now that he’s gone, I’m going first.” 

She spun the bottle in the middle of the circle. To your relief, it didn’t land on yourself - nor did it land on Charlie. It landed on Robbie who turned beet red - which wasn’t that far off from the color that the alcohol had turned him, and they disappeared inside of the closet. 

“What are we supposed to do while they’re in there?” Olivia asked.  

“Now, we play truth or dare,” Kirby said, setting up a timer on her phone so she’ll know when to get them out of the closet. 

Truth or Dare was just as juvenile as it sounded. You picked truth, since you didn’t know what kind of dares they would come up with. The ‘truths’ were bad enough.  

“Are you a virgin?” - Yes. 

“What’s something you never told anyone?” “I actually like the sandwiches they serve in the cafeteria.” 

“Are you ticklish?” “Only when caught off-guard. 

Jill and Robbie finally get to come out of the closet after that. Robbie is still blushing, looking super bashful while Jill is trying to hold back a smile of some sorts. Something happened in that closet - but you felt you were probably better off not knowing. 

“I’ll go,” Charlie volunteered, a little eagerly. Almost everyone in the circle cheered. You just smiled a little uneasily, your heart starting to beat fast in your chest. It was just as likely to land on Kirby, his dream girl, as it was to land on you. Could also land on someone pretty, like Olivia. Or even Jenny. The perfect, pretty blondes. You balanced your elbow on your knee and leaned your head against your palm, trying to look unbothered. Trying to look bored. 

Until it lands on you. 

Everyone was looking at you strangely now, as if you had been the one who chose for it to land on you. Probably figuring out how something like this would work. 

“You can spin again if you want, Charlie,” Jill said, which made your heart fall right down into your stomach. The fact that she even suggested that out loud.  

“No, it’s alright,” Charlie shrugged, and held out his hand to you. “C’mon, let’s play this stupid game.” 

To tell the truth, the way that he said that didn’t make you feel much better. But you took the opportunity to grab onto his hand and get yourself up off of the ground.  

And he didn’t let go once you were up. That was the most noticeable thing. He was still holding your hand while you walked a couple of feet towards the closet.  

“Starting the timer!” Kirby said, grinning as Charlie closed the doors, leaving the both of you in darkness. It was still rather cramped, despite the fact that it was cleaned out. You could feel his presence in front of you, and you were still holding his hand. You just became hyperaware of everything that was around you, from the warmth of his body to the single coat that was hanging on the rack, a fake fur monstrosity.  

“Sorry you got stuck with me,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck. You certainly didn’t want to be the first one to let go of his hand. You didn’t want to make him realize that he was still holding yours too.  

“I’m not stuck,” Charlie said, the slight raise in his hand telling you that he was shrugging. “I - uhh - I was kind of ... hoping for this. Actually.” 

Oh. Oh lord. You were glad that you were in the dark now because the look on your face must have been hilarious. “You were hoping for this?” You prodded, hoping that he would continue. 

“Yeah,” Charlie said. His own voice sounded nervous. A bit shaky. “I wanted to umm ... talk to you, for a while now. There’s something that’s been on my mind.” 

“What’s that Charlie?” You asked, attempting to keep your voice somewhat level. 

“You’re ... a guy, right? Sorry, that sounds so stupid. But that’s what you identify as right, that’s what ... you are?" 

“Uh, yeah. That is what I identify as so ... that’s how I prefer to be ... perceived.”  

“So technically if I were to ... uh, like you, I would be gay?”  

This had to be the most awkward, and yet heart-pounding conversation that you ever had in your life. You weren’t even sure what to do, what to say. And his hand was still holding yours and you were sweating, and he was sweating and - 

“Uhh yeah - or bisexual, since you ... like girls too. Or pansexual? There’s like this whole spectrum thing, I ... have some books about it?" 

“No, that’s okay, I don’t want to read a book,” Charlie said quickly. His fingers fiddled with your hand, rubbing the back of it, before he pulled you in slightly closer. Your chest was against his. You could just barely make out his figure through the thin watery light coming through the gaps in the door. Mostly, what you saw was hair. “Are you gay, or bi, or the other thing you said?” 

Your words got caught in your throat, and you had to calm yourself for a couple of seconds before you answered. You had never been so close to your crush before. “I’m - gay. I like guys.”  

“Like - me?” He asked. It was definitely a question, not a statement, not at all cocky but curious, delicate.  

“Oh god, um -” You mumbled. “Yeah. Like ... you. Sorry, this is such a weird place to tell you thaa-” 

You were cut off, your words turning into a muffle by lips upon your own. Charlie’s lips. He tasted of the cola that he had drank earlier, still slightly fizzy almost. Smooth. Your eyes close, not that it makes a difference since you can’t see very much anyway, and you squeeze his hand as you kiss him back. As he pulls away, you can hear his breath getting heavier, and realize yours has joined him in that. 

The dark made Charlie feel brave. It always had. It’s when he could forget the mousiness of his appearance and act like the man that he knew he was inside. The more assertive one who took risks. The one who could do what needed to be done. The MAN. Not the boy.  

So he wrapped his other arm around your waist, keeping you close to him. “This okay?” He asked into your ear. You nodded the affirmative and he went in for another kiss. You weren’t sure what to do with your hands, this was your first make out session ... ever. Your thoughts were racing - did you put your arm around him too, or would that be too weird? No, you decided to go for the hand in the hair, pushing it away from his face, holding it back so it didn’t tickle your cheeks as you kissed him back.  

He kept surprising you. He moaned into the kiss, his hand wandering down slightly. Grabbing your ass. You gasped into the next kiss and he then he pulled away chuckling. “I don’t think I’m totally gay but - I think you changed my mind about some things.” 

“It’s ... good to be open-minded?” You said, struggling for words, the smile on your face so wide your cheeks are sore. 

His hand was so warm against your hip, so aware were you of it. And then he kissed you again - which told you a lot. He didn’t have regrets. He knew what he was doing. the closer seemed to warm up by a couple of degrees or was that just you? His lips were so completely soft, much like the rest of his appearance, much like his hair.  

And he was good at showing what he wants. He moved towards your neck, kissing it, making you moan slightly yourself, hiding it behind clenched teeth because you didn’t want anyone else to find out what was happening in here. You could hear laughter outside of the door - someone had done a funny dare. You were safe for now. But oh, his lips on your neck was starting to drive you crazy. “I don’t want to stop,” Charlie mumbled into your neck. 

“We still have at least five minutes,” You countered, your voice not shaking or trembling, actually sounding ... confident. You felt more than accepted. You were feeling invited. Wanted. Valid. 

His hand started to go underneath your shirt, and you froze only for a second. He felt something tight on your torso, which made him break away with confusion. “What’s that?”  

“My binder, to uh - make me look more masculine,” you told him. “Sorry, maybe I should have said something-” 

“No, that’s fine,” he said, laughing a little. “You could touch me instead?” 

You hesitated but only for a second. Fuck it right? This chance might not come again, and it was only a bit of touching. Your hands went to the hem of his light shirt, and then your fingertips pressed onto the pale, soft skin beneath. A shiver went through Charlie’s body, big enough for you to feel. It excited you in return, that you were having this effect on the boy that you liked. It made you feel bolder, hands slipping upward, the skin soft, hairless. And there were hints of muscle there too, which you wouldn’t have expected, and it wasn’t just skinny boy muscle either - he was more fit than you thought. His hand tightened back around your hip, thumb skimming over the bone. He went back to kissing your neck, your jaw, sloppy kisses but you weren’t complaining. Up your hands went, feeling small nipples which made you smile to yourself. There was just something funny about that. But then you realized that his body was trembling ever so slightly. 

Charlie was very reactive. 

“More,” He pleaded with you, his lips meeting your own once more, in an all-encompassing desperate kiss. So you acquiesced. You gave in, moving your hands to his back and let your short nails scrape down the skin there, making his tremor even worse, a breathy moan exiting his mouth and erupting into yours. His tongue then entered along with it, and you got a real taste of him for the first time. 

“More?” You asked him, during a slight breathing break, moving to kiss his neck now, giving him the treatment that he had been giving you. He let out a deep breath and nodded, unable to say anything more. You felt around his hips, those jutting hipbones from his thin frame and then lingered over the waistband of your jeans. You had come this far. Why not go all in? You unbuttoned him, slid the zipper down slowly. That was all that it took for him to push his hips further and you felt his arousal against your hand. “Whoa,” you said, feeling how hard he was already.  

“Come on,” He whimpered. “Been thinking of this forever.” 

“Me in a closet with you?” You asked, unable to hide the surprise. 

“Just you -” he said, and then started to stutter as you palmed him through his boxers. Your first time ever holding an actual dick. You both were aroused by it ... and jealous of it. It felt like the absolute perfect size. “P-p-please don’t t-tease me - need m-more.” 

“And you think four minutes is going to be enough?” You asked him, stroking the thin and soft fabric that was surrounding him. 

“Only gonna need one with you - please,” He pleaded. And if that wasn’t just the sexiest thing that you ever heard. You went back to kissing his neck, being careful not to suck on it though you wanted to. There was still a small part of you that didn’t want Charlie to get teased over being any sort of intimate with you. You were used to being the butt of a joke - he didn’t deserve it. But you did run your tongue over his Adam’s apple as you slipped your hand inside of those boxers and felt him entirely. He was so warm, so smooth. There was a bit of hair down there, but it wasn’t uncontrollable. It actually added to it, bringing out some contrast in the textures. A moan overtook him then, another shiver from head to toe. A very quiet “fuck” came out of him in a whisper. And a wetness against your fingers - pre-cum. You slid it across the head of his cock with your thumb, and then started to pump the way that you had seen in porn. You weren’t COMPLETELY innocent, after all. Just because you had never done this before didn’t mean you didn’t have some idea of what to do. 

And he was putty in your hands. His head leaned back, exposing more of that beautiful neck to your lips as you jacked him off inside of the closet. He was muttering your name over and over, which made your heart race. He knew it was you. Despite all of the darkness, where he could have been thinking or imagining someone else, he was sticking with the reality that it was you. His hands then suddenly, almost brutally, held your hips hard, hands clenching maybe leaving slight bruises, but you didn’t care. His mouth found yours again, and he used your lips to stifle the moans that came out of him as he came right into your hands. It was hot, sticky, thicker than you had imagined it to be. He thrusted up into your palm a couple of times with each squirt before he let his head down onto your shoulder, forehead digging into the bone. “Fuck y/n,” He whispered. “Your hands are so good.” 

“Thanks,” You breathed, still feeling his kiss upon your lips. “From what I felt of yours, they’re good too.” 

“Thanks,” he said, his tone shyer this time. You released your hand from him and put it down to your own side. You held onto the handful of sperm, suddenly realizing that you didn’t know what to do with it. As you heard him do his zipper back up, you tried to figure it out. The game wasn’t over so if you just ... let it drip onto the ground or wipe it on the only coat in here, it could be found. It would be weird if you just licked it off right? Plus, you weren’t even sure if you would like it. What if it tasted rancid? It certainly didn’t smell the most appealing. So, despite the awkwardness, you just sort of held it. Put your hands together behind your back, one under the other to make sure that it didn’t spill. 

“Fuck, I still can’t believe we did that,” Charlie said. You couldn’t see him much in the darkness, just an outline of movement, but you could imagine him pushing his hair out of his face now, his cheeks pink. “Do you think we could do this again sometime? But maybe not in a closet, with all of our friends outside. But a place where we could ... you know, not have to muffle everything?” 

Another round of laughter outside. As if they knew what was going on in here. And now all you could think about was what he would sound like without restraint. Those moans. Those whispered curses. All in that sweet and soft voice of his - you would be the one shaking like a leaf if that was to happen. And he wanted to hear you too. He wanted to bring out your own sounds.  

“It would be kind of nice to see you the next time too,” you said, chuckling lightly.  

“Yeah, definitely. So, is that a yes?” 

The door opened and bright light made you squint as you clutched your fingers together behind you. Charlie still looked a little bit red in the cheeks but apart from that, there wasn’t much that gave away that anything had happened in here. “Hickey check!” Kirby joked, moving Charlie’s hair to peek at his neck. You held your breath as she checked yours too and then pouted. “God, you two are boring.”  

“You would think you wouldn’t want people to hook up in your closet,” Charlie joked as he motioned for you to leave first. You did, hoping that the position of your hands wasn’t too suspicious. But no one really said anything about it.  

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you said, eager to wash this off of your hands so you could use them like a normal person. But before you left, you caught Charlie’s eye, and you nodded as an answer to his question. He smiled back widely, and looked away from you before he would start to blush, but his eyes returned to your ass as you walked away and hoped that you would sit next to him when you came back.  

You did. And everyone else was exchanging looks throughout the rest of the night, knowing how it felt like you two were at a party totally separate from theirs. Kirby was already taking pride in being a matchmaker, just because it happened in her house, taking all the credit - especially when a week later, you and Charlie went public.