#broken winged butterfly who stared kindness in the eye.

[write-here-n-now]

What to do when you've crossed a line?

C.(S). Jeonghan x Reader | WC. 821 | G. Angst| Pt. 1/? |

Part 2 | Part 3

You were used to your best friend’s antics. His “cheating”, the pranks and general everyday shenanigans but also the kind-hearted soul and caring nature he hid behind every antic. You didn’t know where along the way your feelings matured into a storm of butterflies whenever he came in sight. You could kid yourself into thinking that everyone cared that much about their friends, best friends even, and the feelings would pass. How many months does an average crush last? At least 37 months, right? You were simply guessing and definitely not keeping track of how many times he caused you to stay awake thinking of a fantasy future. 

Having feelings for your best friend was one thing, holding yourself back from giving the side eye to every person who flirted with him was another feat. How often had these moments been replayed, hot person flirts with Jeonghan, he entertains them, and you remain in the corner, out of sight, silently seething but ultimately unable to do anything. 

If he asked you to fly him to the moon, you would do so without question. Hide a dead body? All you needed to do was grab a shovel, but be a bridge to him and whoever he wanted to go home with that night. You could take a rain check. 

You got out of it often given how many of your mutual friends were present at the events and parties you all attended but it seemed that your luck ran out. Tonight, most of your friends either ditched the party early or had skipped out completely, leaving you to find a plausible excuse as to why you, in love with your best friend, could not talk him up to someone so said best friend could go home with them whilst you were left behind wondering what it would be like if you two went home together instead.

You became standoffish, faked fatigued, and pretended to be tipsy but he saw through your antics, confused with your behaviour until he resorted to tugging your arm repeatedly, pestering you to go over and rizz him up to some good-looking person who had been eyeing him all night.

Why did he need a wing person anyway? It's not like he had any trouble talking to people given his charm, mischievous aura and drop-dead gorgeous looks, he attracted people left and right, like a thirst-ridden nomad to an oasis. 

His persistence, on a normal day, would have eventually broken you down until you might have just walked up to whoever he needed you to, but something snapped inside you the longer you stared, wondering if you would be at the end of his affection. His eagerness shattered your short-lived fantasy but also wrecked your mood, unable to withstand being in that space, you pulled your arm out of his grasp and stormed out of the party. 

You didn’t stop to look back, walking out of the party room, out the building and towards your apartment, a mere five-minute walk. The chilly autumn weather would have caused you to mentally nitpick to have worn something thicker but your anger fuelled the passion to speed walk to the only safe space you could think of. 

Jeonghan had come after you, yet his hollers of your name fell on deaf ears as you were determined to block out all the external noise and finish your trek back home.

Catching up to you, he grabbed your upper arm, both fumbling you in your step and spinning you around right into his chest. 

“Y/N what the hell is the problem?” 

You avoid his eyes, cross your arms and look anywhere except directly at him.

“Are you going to stand there pouting or tell me what's wrong? Why did you storm out?” He waits for an answer, a fruitless endeavour against your current ego.

The sigh that leaves his mouth signals his own frustration at your lack of cooperation. He begins again hoping you answer at least one of his questions.

“Was it the tugging? I’m sorry if it bothered you too much…” Silence... “Are you drunk? Are you feeling sick?” 

His questions increased, asking you about the day, the party and even whether you liked the vibe of who he was trying to go home with to understand what the issue was, and that got on your last nerve

“I’M IN LOVE YOU DAMN IT!”

It's like a weight on your heart had been lifted but his expression only brought on a much heavier boulder on your heart and a knot in your throat. If you stayed here any longer you would begin crying and that was the last damn thing you needed tonight.

“Forget it, you don’t even care…”

You shake off his grip for the second time that night and storm off to your apartment with more urgency than before because now you’ve officially crossed the line in your friendship.

[cressidagrey]

Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours- Chapter 5: Hyacinth, Florist

Summary:

5 Times Cassian thought that Azriel had feelings for somebody and then 1 time he finally met the girl his brother was in love with.

Warnings:

Rhys Bashing

Notes:

I put a lot of world building into this. If you don't recognise it from canon, I probably invented. Or I forgot that canon existed.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

Azriel showed up bright and early the day after his break ended. For a week Cassian had heard not even a peep from Azriel. 

And then Azriel walked into the House of Wind, looking none the worse for wear.

“How was your break?” Cassian asked him, taking him in. Looking no different than he ever had before. Though not relaxed. The exact opposite to be honest. 

“Can we spar?” Azriel asked in response and Cassian’s brows rose. 

Ouch. That break had seemingly not gone that well. 

“That bad, hm?” he asked, though just nodded towards the sparring ring. “How’s your Ma?” he asked and Azriel just stared at him. 

“She’s as good as she can get,” he snapped back. Right.

His expression must have shown his shock, because Azriel held still for a moment, seemingly forcing himself to take a deep breath, closing his eyes for just a moment...

“ I am in a mood,” Azriel warned him, finally. “Don’t go easy on me.”

“I wasn’t aware that I ever did,” Cassian quipped. 

He should have probably taken that warning more seriously. 

He didn’t. 

Azriel nearly had him tapping out within the first few minutes. 

There was an aggression behind his fighting that Cassian had only seen very rarely. An aggression that belied Azriel just “being in a mood”. 

This wasn’t just being in a mood. 

This was feral levels of aggression. This was being so upset that Azriel needed to hit something to get it out and clearly Cassian was that something of choice that day. 

Azriel won. Of course, he did. he wanted it far more than Cassian did. 

“You broke my fucking nose,” he complained afterwards, spitting out the blood. The nose was thankfully the only broken bone. Though he was definitely gonna feel the bruises for a few days. 

Azriel seemed on a more even keel though, so Cassian would gladly take the broken nose. 

 “I am sorry,” Azriel apologised earnestly. 

And that was that. 

Az seemed back to his usual levels of weirdness, no longer randomly wanting his first break after 500 years, no more comments about table linens…and sometimes Cassian even thought that he caught his brother smiling softly, pleased at something.

He didn’t say anything but he couldn’t help but wonder.

Still, Cassian had more pressing problems. Like what he should buy Nesta for her birthday…Mor decided to tag along which was decisively unhelpful. How could a female who clearly liked shopping for herself be so completely horrible at choosing gifts for her family? 

“Wait, is that Az?” Mor said suddenly as they left another shop empty-handed. Cassian’s head swivelled around. 

And it was indeed Az, standing around at a flower cart, clearly chatting to the owner. 

By the cauldron, had Cassian been right all along?!?

Mor and him exchanged a glance, both of them narrowing down to their brother just a few feet away from him. 

“Which flowers?” Azriel asked at that moment, clearly contemplating two different bouquets. The female on the other side of the card was pretty, delicate with fluttering wings resembling a butterfly, and bright blue hair that was cropped close to her head. 

A Palote Fairy. Clearly far from home in the summer court. 

Maybe that was why Azriel had been keeping her a secret. Maybe it was some unfounded worry of her being a lesser fairie. 

Did Az and her take long leisurely flights over Velaris and go picnicking? Somehow that seemed like the kind of thing she would enjoy. Their children would probably end up being the most magical thing that Cassian had ever seen. He wondered what wings would turn out to be the dominant ones. The idea of an Illyrian with butterfly wings was definitely something, that much was certain. 

“Jasmine these days. She hasn’t talked about anything since you bought them the first time,” said butterfly girl told Azriel, smiling prettily at him. 

Cassian held back a noise that Mor would have never let him life down. Something akin to a squeal threatened to come out of his throat. 

Was this the female Azriel was stupidly in love with? 

She clearly seemed to be nice enough not to turn down his advances flat out, instead both of them happily chatting. 

“Thank you, Hyacinth,” Azriel thanked her as Hyacinth , which must be her name started wrapping a bundle of dark blooming jasmines for him. He handed her a couple of coins, as she gave him the flowers, not for one moment flinching away from his scars. 

“Will you be there on Friday?” Hyacinth asked him, excitement apparent in her voice. 

Where are they going to have a date? 

“I have been told that my attendance is mandatory. Because I need to learn how to swing my hips like a proper male,” Azriel responded, his usual dry humour apparent. Cassian could still only stare. 

They were going to have a date!

“You’ll have a fantastic teacher,” Hyacinth said with a wink. 

“Oh, I expect nothing less,” Azriel agreed.

A fantastic teacher. Was Hyacinth going to be the teacher? 

Mor dragged Cassian along with a hand on his arm, calling for Azriel. “Az!”

“Mor. Cassian,” Azriel greeted them, not seeming surprised at all at their sudden appearance. Nor particularly displeased about it or hesitant. 

“Don’t you want to introduce us to your girlfriend?” Mor said, sounding giddy as they arrived at Azriel’s side. 

Yes, Azriel, introduce us to your girlfriend, Cass mentally agreed unable to keep the bright grin off his face. 

What he hadn’t expected was for the blue-haired female to burst into laughter. 

“ Hyacinth is married,” Azriel said drily. “And definitely not my girlfriend.”

And Cassian’s hopes were shattered once again. 

“I am very much spoken for. He is too,” Hyacinth responded, still trying to starve down the laughter, and failing horribly. 

Damnit. 

“What brings you two here?” Azriel asked, still holding onto his flower bouquet.  

“Well, Cassian needs help with a gift for Nesta,” Mor said brightly. “I offered my help.”

Azriel stared at him like Cassian had grown a second head. 

Quite frankly, it was understandable.

But Mor had offered her input and he hadn’t been able to politely turn her down. 

“What’s in that bag?” Azriel asked, nodding to the one lone shopping back that Cassian held, sounding like he didn’t want to know. 

“Well…” Cassian started but Azriel just shook his head. 

“You know what, I don’t want to know. Come on,” he said drily, the flowers disappearing from his hand, being whisked away by his shadows somewhere. “I’ll see you on Friday, Hyacinth!” He called over his shoulder, Hyacinth waving them off the ring to the next customer. 

“Where are we going?” He dared to ask, trailing after Azriel, who walked around the Rainbow like he knew every cobblestone personally. Maybe he did. Goodness knew what Azriel’s shadows got up to when they weren’t busy spying for Rhys. 

“We’ll buy Nesta a proper birthday gift,” Azriel said with a roll of his eyes. 

Mor stopped at a clothing store, staring at a dress in the window. “I’ll catch up with you!” she said brightly and off she went, leaving Cassian with this gift debacle.

 “Mor, really?” Azriel asked with a sigh as soon as she had entered the store.  

“Who else was I supposed to ask?” Cassian gave back defensively.

“Feyre? Elain? Emerie? Gwyn? Rhys?” Azriel suggested drily. “Hell, Amren would have been better.” He muttered under his breath. 

Azriel stopped at a smaller store, the dark blue signage proclaiming it an understated “ The Goldmine”. 

He had never even noticed the shop when he had been in the Rainbow, though a giggling group of young High Faes was leaving it. 

Clearly, it was well-liked in the community. 

Azriel pushed open the door, waving him through.   

“Good Morning,” Azriel greeted the High Fae at the counter, a rounded female with green eyes, a pale complexion, and curly light brown hair. She was very pretty in an unassuming way and greeted Azriel wide-eyed. 

The Goldmine was clearly a jewellery shop, with merchandise laid out in the glass cases on the walls and in the middle of the room. 

Cassian was already feeling slightly overwhelmed and he hadn’t even been asked to pick out anything yet. 

“Oh, I am so sorry, she isn’t there currently,” the High Fae blurted out, blushing as soon as she saw Azriel.  

“I know,” Azriel agreed, looking not surprised in the least. Cassian wondered who they were talking about. “She’s out shopping with Briony. But that’s not why I am here.” That also didn’t answer any of the questions he was having. “Cassian, that’s Penelope,” Azriel introduced Cassian.  “Penelope, Cassian, my brother. Cassian needs a birthday gift for his mate,” Azriel explained patiently. Cassian approached the counter that Azriel was leaning against with some trepidation. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Penelope greeted him. “What does your mate like to wear as jewellery?” She asked, all business and Cassian drew a blank. 

He could write whole books about what Nesta liked and disliked. He could. 

But right now, he had no idea. 

“Hairpins that double as Stiletto Blades,” he blurted out. Penelope stared at him, green eyes wide. 

“We…We don’t really sell that?” she offered up hesitantly, while Azriel next to him was silently shaking with laughter before he swallowed it down and decided to be helpful. 

“You had new hair combs coming in, didn’t you?” Azriel asked and for one moment Cassian wondered why Azriel knew what kind of new shipments a jewellery store got. 

“We did!” Penelope agreed immediately, pulling out a tray from behind the counter. 

Cassian heard the bell ring behind him, and Azriel waved off Penelope apologising as she started to take care of the newest customer. 

Instead, he took the tray and pushed it in Cassian’s direction. 

“How am I supposed to pick?” he asked with no small amount of trepidation at the dozen choices laid out before him. Every style imagination, in gold and silver and whatever other metal there were there. 

“Pick one that reminds you of Nesta,” Azriel said easily. “And if you only like the shape of one, the gems can be easily changed out,” Azriel assured him, as he picked up one comb, turning it around in scarred hands. 

Cassian went back to staring at the hair combs. 

Every single one of them was a separate work of art. Some more intricate than others. Some with careful engravings, some set with stones, others letting the metal do the talking. He didn’t dare to touch them, even when Azriel carefully turned them in his hands and checked them over. 

“This is moonstone and yellow gold,” Azriel explained softly as he pointed out one with a row of milky-white stones set in yellow gold. “This is amber. Probably from the beaches of Summer Court…This is white opal,” he said as he pointed out another two. 

Cassian’s gaze kept being pulled back to intricate designs with swirls set in diamonds and some kind of red stone, too dark to be ruby. Azriel followed his gaze. 

“You could have the garnets replaced with your siphons,” he suggested evenly. 

“They can do that?” Cassian asked surprised and Azriel gave a soft smile.

“Of course.”

“How did you find this place?” Cassian asked curiously. This wasn’t…Azriel had never worn any kind of jewellery. or at least none that Cassian had ever seen…Azriel picked out the comb that Cassian had picked, turning it over in his hands…and for the first time Cassian saw a thin bracelet stretching over his wrist. It was so black that it would would easily sink into the black of his fighting leathers, so of course that would have made sure that Cassian didn’t notice it. But right now Az wasn’t wearing fighting leathers but a simple dark shirt, and so it stood out more against his skin. 

“I know the owner,” Azriel answered the question, his voice quiet. His scent changed suddenly, to Cassian’s surprise from contentment to happiness. 

“Did you ever buy anything from here?” he asked and Azriel hummed. 

“Of sorts.”

“How can you buy something from sorts?” Cassian wondered. How did that even work? 

“If the person doesn’t let you pay in money, does that count as buying?” Azriel gave back with a shrug. 

What? “How else would you pay?” Cassian asked. How? 

“I get a special discount,” Azriel told him sagely. 

“For what?” Cassian asked and then his jaw dropped when…suddenly it…Was Azriel paying for whatever he bought with sex? 

His brother hit him on the back of his head with zero hesitation. 

“Not that ,” Azriel told him drily. 

“I didn’t say anything!” Cassian snapped. 

"It was written all over your face," Azriel replied, rolling his eyes. “I know the owner. That’s why I get a special discount.”

Fine. 

Still, the hair comb was a way better gift than anything that anything he had come up with lately, so he thanked his brother for that. 

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” Azriel responded easily.

Cassian should just really give up trying to figure out who was Azriel’s special somebody. He was never going to get it right.

[jar-of-maise]

She takes his hands gently, cradling them in a manner that made Lyney unsure of how to respond. Those hands could never lie. They shook with an awful tremble, like the last flutter of a dying butterfly's wings.

“I’m sorry for loving you,” she says softly, her eyes filled with unshed tears. 

That was the burden of the unsaid, you never once thought that nightmares could be dreams too, until they were there in front of you.

Dread settles in Lyney's chest, it drops like a heavy stone into a still pond, sliding in without resistance. It sinks to the bottom of his chest where it's weight aches with a dull pain, “Don’t say that," he clears his throat awkwardly, "please, don’t say that.”

She stares back at him, unseen dread haunting her dull eyes, “What?”

Lyney swallows thickly, his breath shuddering in his chest, rattling like fragile marbles in a glass container, “don’t say things like that,” he whispers.

She drops his hands, where they hang like dead weights. She searches his eyes for something she can't find, for something she won't find. It was like the sun, desperately trying to reach the moon, yet finding only it's reflection in the burning daylight, “Things like what?”

She does not want to know the answer to that question. But a burning sensation compells her to ask. Perhaps, with a single word, an entire tragedy could be rewritten.

Looking at Lyney now, she knows that the feeling is mutual. That is an awful realisation to come to, she turns her head away to avoid looking in the mirror.

Lyney, the other half of her, the mirror that she never needed to look in. Lyney, who was the only one who could attune to her soul. Her Lyney who had never been lost for words like he was now, who'd never fumbled or been uncertain.

"Things like what?" She cries, when met with silence. Her hands twitch uncontrollably, and then she's lunging forwards her hands reaching out like desperate claws which latch onto Lyney's shoulders.

These hands of hers were gentle, they were kind. So now, seized by grief as they were, her fingers could not quite grasp the hatred that she wanted them to.

They were strangers to force yet they exerted a violence that was comparable to a monster, "tell me!" It's not a scream, by the time the words drag out of her mouth, it's a mangled, broken tangle of words.

"It's not fair, it's not fair," she says hoarsely, "why do you- you can't-You don't get to do this to me!" She yells, and it's a sound that wretches at Lyney's heart.

"Answer me! What things?! What things shouldn't I say?" Her hands were not made for violence, they were crafted with love in mind. But they tightened on Lyney's shoulders, trembling all throughout.

“Things,” Lyney finally chokes, blinded with tears, “that make it sound like loving me was a mistake,” his hands reach up clumsily, with none of the dexterity or reflex they usually moved with.

She was silent, tears streamed down her face in long, ugly rivers. They fractured her face and drew shadows across her face that did not belong there.  

“It’s not a mistake. This wasn't a mistake,” Lyney whispers desperately, not trusting his voice, yet continuing treacherously.

This is a one way path, a lonely dark road with no return tickets, “you loved Lyney, just plain Lyney. You would never lie," he pauses as his voice wavers, "you didn’t take me by accident, you chose me…didn’t you?” 

“I don’t know,” she admits, lowering her head, she had never admitted defeat. Giving up was not an option, yet she could not conquer this mountain. The shadow of its height, and sheer slopes rendered the fire in her heart cold and frigid.

“I don’t know you. Do I really love Lyney? Who was I in love with?” She asks herself, there is no reply.

This is another question that she doesn't want to know the answer to. But perhaps there is no answer, she's left grasping for strings that have already been broken. The gray cannot be defined, nor described, and in the face of such uncertainty, she doesn't know what to do.

Neither does the magician standing before her. His face is the image of forced apathy, like a puppet with no strings.

"Lyney..." Regret, and immutable yearning surge into her chest, where they mix together like a tapestry woven wrong. The strings are tangled, and the only remaining option is to cut the fabric entirely.

"Perhaps the greatest tragedy of it all is, the more I talk to you, the less I know of you..."

[41eb-yuu]

Gazes from Afar

I met a man with whom I have grown to appreciate

Heart bursted in a symphony from a song he initiates

A rhythm turning havoc inside the ensemble of my brain

Yet I only wish to watch through the broken glass stain.

No longer do I wish to chase after the butterflies

Let my stomach acid burn them and kill what electrifies

No longer do I wish to let anything spark within me

I only wish to stay away and be in my own company

No longer shall I swoon and giggle with delight

It is time to shut down any happiness found in his sight.

No future is promised and I shall not take any risk

For the creation of a sand castle can fall in a brisk.

There is no point in pursuing a man of high honor

Lest I let my heart once more fall victim and be a goner

For I've been here before and wish to be a fool no more

Tis better to be longing than to leave my heart sore.

Perhaps it is best to leave everything to the imagination

Of what could be and simply feed into the delusion

One might be happier living life with an empty heart

Rather than let love consume me from the start.

But even through it all the pain and suffering in love

I know I am not a perfect candidate to be someone's dove

My flaws and broken dreams outweigh the best things

Forever chained to the ground by the cupid with wings.

A bundle of anxious attachments with an overactive mind

Consumed in my own thoughts that I simply go blind.

I lose sight of good memories of the past and present

Leaving a self pitying selfish jerk to live in resentment

Insecurities shine through a broken kintusgi pot

Dusted with gold, it shall never be thrown out to rot

Yet there is no worth in dressing up my shortcomings

For there is not enough glue and gold to hide my unbecoming.

I wish upon no one to be vowed to the person I've become.

For in a world full of someones, I only wish to be no one.

I am beaten and broken, nothing left of me but a crumb.

And to the darkness I stare as I slowly succumb.

I've accepted my peace to be seen as someone unloveable.

So I keep my walls up and be perceived as unapproachable.

For no one could ever love the worst parts of me

Other than the person who has lived every memory.

And yet the tug of my heart has only gotten stronger

The butterflies in my stomach have only gotten plentier

You smile my way and I am left to be defenseless

And my brain can only scramble to make sense of the messes.

Your gaze has consumed my soul like a wild fire ablaze

Eyes, whether soft or with furrowed brows, I am amazed.

For the loudest sound around me is the silence you entice

Paired with the quickened pace from my heartbeat's race.

Talent through your veins, your hands a source of magic and wonder

Your rough calloused fingers dance along the strings of your guitar.

Inciting the most gentle of melodies, a show in mastery of your art.

And with such proficiency, you managed to tug at the strings of my heart.

Your being; a person of kindness and hope that is beyond compare.

Albeit mischevious with a hypnotic grin and jokes to spare.

Raised with the morals of God through the hands of your mother.

And growing to be your greatest version: a man of high honor.

Your humanity has no competition, and that goes without question.

Your smile, your gaze; a sight to be amazed with no further discussion.

Your soul is pure in a day and age where this characteristic is quite rare.

Perhaps in due time, I can be worthy of you, but for now: I do, adore.

[pixelated-whump]

@ailesswhumptober Day Thirteen - Crushed

TWs: Child death, Minor Whumpee, Kinda graphic violence and stuff, please be careful and don't read if you can't handle this kind of stuff

Contents: Aside from everything up there, broken bones, suffocation, all that jazz, and again, Mabel is a minor and dies in this

Characters are Mabel (Aka M, She/Her, Around 12), Riley (Aka R, She/Her, Around 12), C (It/He/Whisker, Around 15), and F (He/Him, Around 14), all refs can be found here.

Also posted on Ao3!

Final warning, I rated this as Mature on Ao3 for a reason, please proceed with caution.

There’s a creak above Mabel’s head. She looks up nervously, gently tapping her sister’s shoulder. “Riley, we really shouldn’t be here-”

“It’s fine!” Riley huffs, tossing something to the side. “I’m almost done, anyways. Like I said, we’ll be in and out in no time at all.”

It takes a few more minutes for the fox hybrid to get done gathering supplies, flinging the front door of the abandoned house open and walking out. Mabel pauses for a moment, and hears the sound of wood cracking. Oh no.

Before she can even get her limbs to move, the wooden supports of the building collapse in on themselves, and wood and brick comes crashing down onto her. Mabel vaguely hears the panicked voice of her sister, but it’s overshadowed by the painful pressure on her entire body, minus one arm. She screams as there’s a sickening crunch of various bones.

The cat hybrid screeches as the debris shifts slightly, ending up with more burying her. She can barely breathe, hyperventilating uncontrollably and sobbing.

A hand grabs her own exposed one, trying to pull her out. Mabel screams again, panic washing over her in waves as her breathing gets shallower.

“Mabel!” Riley sobs somewhere in front of her, pressing Mabel’s hand to her face. “Oh my god, Mabel!”

In one brief moment of clarity, Mabel realizes that this is it. She’s dying, and there’s nothing she can do about it. Tears slip down her cheeks, only able to hear the sounds of her sister’s sobs and her own shallow breaths.

She closes her eyes and waits to die.

---

“-ello? ...Hello?”

A voice makes its way to Mabel’s ears. It doesn’t sound like Riley, not at all. She lets out a groan, opening her eyes and lifting her head.

There’s a black- no, very dark blue cat looking down at her. She’s in a plain white area, though the ground underneath her is solid. The cat smiles in relief. “It’s been so long since we’ve gotten a new... visitor to the Void.”

He reaches out his paw and she takes it, stumbling as she stands up. “Who... Who are you? Where are we?”

“I’m C. You’re in the Void, although...” He pauses, pursing his lips. “Do you remember anything?”

“I thought I died,” She says, gasping and looking around. “Riley? Riley?!”

C rests his paw on her shoulder. “Easy, your body is still recovering.”

Mabel stares at him with wide eyes. “I need to find my sister!”

“She’s not here, as far as I know,” C explains, voice gentle. “Can you tell me your name?”

She falls silent for a moment. She doesn’t even know where she is. “It’s- It’s M-Mable.”

“We usually take one-letter names around here,” C says, gesturing for her to follow him. “How’s M sound to you?”

“It’s... fine, I guess.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it,” C reassures her, though it doesn’t really work. “It took me a hell of a long time to get used to it, too.”

“How did you find me?” M asks, tail swishing behind her.

“Well, normally I’d find you while doing my daily rounds, but...”

“Why hello there, my good friend Copycat!” A creature interrupts him, someone with sharp teeth and seemingly no eyes, but with a closer look, it seems they’re just hidden.

C sighs. “Hello, F. I’m showing our new friend around, if you’ll kindly buzz off for a bit.”

F hums, floating around M and almost examining her. “Oh, now I remember!” He exclaims. “You’re that cute butterfly-cat-human-thing I found.”

“...Butterfly?” She asks, head tilted. As if on command, wings on her back flutter.

“Yeah, the Void tends to corrupt its residents,” C explains, giving her a pitying smile. “It’ll take some time to get used to. C’mon, let’s go finish the rest of our tour.”

And M follows, because... she has nowhere else to go now.

M, Mabel, Mercy, was now a resident of the void.

And as selfish as it sounds, she hopes her sister will join her.

[shiningdesignersreflections]

Chapter 3: Love and Devotion

Narrated by Envoy Reza.

Narrator: The evening prayer bell rang after the Queen and her servants boarded the carriage back to the palace.

Narrator: I began praying in an empty room.

Narrator: I lit a candle, knelt before the statue of God, and recited the holy texts.

Envoy: God will tell us what is the utmost purity and beauty...

Narrator: Under the moon and candlelight, I knelt in peace, enjoying God's salvation in silence.

Narrator: The silence was broken by murmurs.

Narrator: Sweet sighs, words in a seductive tone, accompanied by an unfamiliar yet intoxicating scent.

Narrator: The scent enveloped me in the flickering candlelight.

Narrator: I could not focus on my communion. All I heard was the Queen's alluring murmurs.

Narrator: Not just that night, not just that time.

Lilith: Is she one of the chosen?

Narrator: The angelic smile concealed demonic whispers, with every word prying apart my soul.

Narrator: It could not possibly be her. The sheltered butterfly had never been baptized by God.

Narrator: She would never pray every day, much less devote her life to God.

Narrator: God will never choose her.

Narrator: I'm the one who's thoroughly dedicated to God.

Narrator: I stopped my prayers, raised my head to see the statue was smiling, then closed my eyes again.

Choose either "Do you feel any bitterness?" or "Do you still believe in God?"

If "feel," ...

You: Didn't you feel any bitterness?

Narrator: A pious follower should never feel that way.

If "believe," ...

You: Do you still believe in this so-called god?

Narrator: Of course. I'm the most devout envoy there is.

--

Narrator: A few days later, as I passed by the garden, I noticed the "butterfly" came to the abbey again.

Narrator: The fluttering dress, careless laughter, and the flowers all seemed even more lively.

Narrator: I stared from afar and thought the excess beauty was... Disgusting.

Narrator: If only I could break her wings.

Narrator: I muttered, then shuddered that my mind could conceive such an idea.

Narrator: I returned to the church and served tea to the Queen here to pray, and to Arwen, who was next to her.

Narrator: The duke's daughter...

Narrator: I glanced at Lilith, but she wasn't looking my way, just chatting with those around her.

Narrator: I went back to my room after afternoon tea. Nothing happened.

Narrator: The carriage left and it was time for evening prayer. I stoically unfolded the prayer sheets and knelt before my god.

Narrator: The angels on the stained glass were still detached as ever.

Envoy: God will tell us what is the utmost purity and beauty...

Narrator: I repeated it mechanically in my mind, as the intoxicating scent enveloped me again.

Narrator: I opened my eyes to see Lilith sitting on the altar. She was looking down at me. Her figure obstructed the statue behind her.

Narrator: She slowly replaced the statue and monopolized my field of vision.

Lilith: Now will you answer me, Envoy Reza?

Narrator: It was the smile that had appeared countless times in my dreams. She leaned over, reached out, and softly stroked my face.

Lilith: You believe in God, believe in kindness, but God only took your piety without giving anything back.

Narrator: I gazed at Lilith. I didn't look away this time and stared straight into her eyes.

Narrator: I saw a completely different me in the reflection.

Lilith: Tell me, do you hate Him?

Narrator: I was chosen by God.

Narrator: I never was bitter nor resentful.

Narrator: Yes.

Narrator: I didn't...

Narrator: I...

Envoy: I... do hate him.

Narrator: She gently brushed her fingertip over the corner of my eye, like a god taking pity on some poor soul.

Narrator: She wiped away a tear.

Narrator: Tears...? I was crying?

Lilith: Poor soul...

Envoy: It's my fault...

Narrator: It was my fault and I must repent... But before I could finish, Lilith softly interrupted.

Lilith: No, it's not your fault. It's God's fault for using your kindness to confine you.

Lilith: I'm just giving you back the freedom you deserve.

Lilith: Only I know the real you...

Narrator: I looked up and saw the sky was dark. The angels on the stained glass lost their luster. My eyes welled up with tears.

Narrator: I could only focus on Lilith's face through my blurry vision.

Narrator: She is so beautiful. Even her voice offered me redemption.

Lilith: Let me choose you, the real, free you, Envoy Reza.

Narrator: Lilith smiled a devilish grin that was even more soothing than an angel's.

Narrator: I reached out to her and finished the final prayers with the line most familiar to me.

Envoy: I shall offer "God" all my piety and love.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

[lemariee]

Chapter 7

Gerda stared at the bird with blurry eyes as it flew off into the distance. Her lips trembled with a foreign feeling of emptiness and pain tugging at her chest. She felt her knees grow weak beneath her and slowly fell to the ground with her hands balled up against her chest. She bit her lower lip as she held in a sob while tears slowly drenched her cheeks. This was pure abandonment.

"Your people despise you. Your queen betrays you. Now tell me was the genocide of my people worth it? Was slaughtering innocent lives for a queen who cared so little of you worth it?" Borra taunted in a stern voice that only added to Gerda's pain.

"Shut up!" Gerda cried as the sharp edge of betrayal and loneliness grew.

"Admit that you have nothing and mean nothing. The very kingdom you once fought and killed for now banishes every trace of you. From this day on you will be spoken of as the girl who slaughtered innocent fey and betrayed her king. You deserve every ounce of pain you're feeling." Borra continued ignoring Gerda's growing turmoil of emotions.

"Enough!" Gerda yelled to Borra as she glared up at him with red, watery eyes.

She then stood up and ran off not caring if he was capable of catching her. She ran until her body finally collapsed back onto the ground. Her eyes heavily gazed down into a pond that was faintly glimmering in front of her. She broke down into more tears when she was met with the image of her staring back at herself. The woman before her looked broken and lost.

After a while, she stopped crying and stared off into the pond in a vacant daze. There was nothing but the sound of wind caressing her pale skin and occasional birds chirping hidden within the trees. Her light blue eyes rested on a butterfly that flew around until it landed on top of a flower nearby. She sighed, reaching out and yanked the flower causing the yellow butterfly to glide off out of sight. Her fingers lightly skimmed the petals until she heard the sound of large wings landing.

Gerda ignored the approaching footsteps and tossed the flower into the pond. She knew it was Borra but still didn't care. Her eyes blinked several times once the footsteps stopped behind her. His presence was the least of her concern at the moment. She felt far too numb to worry nor did she have the will to live.

"Why don't you just kill me. I'm sure they won't care if I die." Gerda said in an emotionless voice as she blankly stared off over the pond.

"You humans are such dramatic creatures. No wonder you're all always at war with each other." Borra stated causing Gerda to glare with agitation.

"And I'm to believe that your kind is any better? How your people managed to survive this long baffles me. You're all so primitive." Gerda muttered with disdain as her fingers lightly traced circles onto the dirt.

"Us fey had our share of battles but that's now a thing of the past. We are all united and have been for hundreds of years. It's quite pathetic watching you reckless humans fight and kill over mild disagreements." Borra sharply replied, causing Gerda to turn around and study him.

"You speak as if you lived through such times. How old are you, creature?" Gerda asked as she tossed several loose curls behind her shoulders.

Borra stared down at her for several seconds before finally answering Gerda's question. She was curious how long their kind typically lived up to after hearing his remark. Surely they aren't immortal and aged just like humans. Any information would be useful in order for her to destroy them.

"I'm 104 years old." Borra firmly replied, causing Gerda's eyes to widen in shock.

She then fixed her composure to hide her shock but was unable to hide the smirk on her lips. Here she was thinking he was no more than thirty but clearly, he was ancient compared to her. For a brief moment, her mind was distracted from the grim reality of her current situation. A much-needed distraction.

"Don't you think you're quite old then?" Gerda bluntly pointed out, causing Borra's lips to switch.

"We age slowly compared to humans...the benefits of being fey." Borra said with a look of arrogance that made Gerda narrow her eyes.

Gerda then fixated her gaze on him wondering how the passing of time must feel to his kind. It must be lonely to live that long. She then wondered if he had a mate to keep him company or if he had any family. Gerda wanted to ask but wondered if such a question would come off as being too invasive. She reminded herself it would provide leverage when the time came to kill him or perhaps even cause more anguish to him.

"Don't your kind grow lonely to live out all those years? I would go mad if I lived to see the world around me change while I stood stuck in time." Gerda asked, carefully navigating her words in a way that wouldn't trigger his anger.

"Many of my people have mates and family to keep them sane. The passing of years to us isn't much." Borra said as he appeared uncomfortable by the topic.

Gerda had never seen him in such a state. She was used to his typical cold, harsh behavior towards her. She had the urge to ask him more questions. It would be interesting to learn about the many unanswered secrets of him and his people. Not that any of it would matter since she planned to rid herself of him.

"What of you then? Do you have anyone to keep you sane?" Gerda asked, attempting to gain some insight into the strange, rageful creature.

Borra appeared taken aback by her question with his eyes hardening. His wings flickered behind him with balled-up fists at his sides. It was obvious that her question deeply bothered him. She certainly overstepped her boundaries with him. 

"It's time we take our leave. I have far more important matters to attend to than stand around wasting my precious time with the likes of you." Borra callously said with a sneer.

She glared up at him feeling offended by his choice of words and attempted to stand but hissed in discomfort when she realized her legs had fallen asleep. Borra growled in annoyance at her weakness and reluctantly extended out his hand to her. Gerda stared at it for a moment, feeling her body still.

She hesitantly gripped onto it feeling his feverish, rough skin counteract the coldness of hers. Her cheeks heated up when he effortlessly pulled her up with his eyes observing her. She quickly fixed her composure as if none of it bothered her and looked away from him. Gerda was relieved when she noticed her vined cage waiting for her. The guards must have brought it closer when Borra found her.

"I-Is there a reason we're still waiting here?" Gerda stuttered when she noticed Borra was still intensely staring at her.

He then broke out of his daze and glared at her with hard eyes, baffling her with his sudden change of behavior. Borra proceeded to walk away ignoring her presence as she followed next to him. She grew irritated when he started to quicken his pace and soon enough it was too fast for her to keep up.

"Do you mind slowing down." Gerda impatiently asked, earning a frosty glare from Borra.

"I grow sick of your presence and would like to distance myself from you." Borra harshly stated, causing Gerda's steps to falter.

She then slowed down her pace and allowed him to continue on till he was no longer next to her. Gerda nearly flinched at the unexpected sound of him shooting up from the ground, flying off into the sky. How foolish of her to forget her place with him. She was still nothing more than a worthless slave to him so it was ridiculous that she'd bother sharing words and thoughts with him. Her mind reflected back to where she stood in the world. She couldn't stop the full-blown betrayal and pain that followed suit.

She numbly walked into her cage and sat down with her head on her knees. She remained in this position till they landed back at the cave. The guards led her through the dusky tunnels until she reached the stairs that led to her room. She barely noticed Celtra and didn't bother meeting her eyes as they walked up the stairs.

"Your mind seems to be preoccupied." Celtra stated as she opened Gerda's door.

"Just brooding over my fate." Gerda emotionlessly responded as she stiffly laid down on her bed and faced the wall.

Celtra then left, leaving Gerda lost in her thoughts and tears. For the first time in years, Gerda cried until there was nothing left. She mourned for the life that used to be and the betrayal of someone that she considered the world. For many years she fought for the queen and covered up all her dirty work. Now here she was with nothing or nobody that cared an ounce about her hard-earned achievements. Gerda was truly alone.

She had no purpose nor did she know what to do with herself. There was no place for her in this new world. All she had was gone and now she will slowly rot away in this cell of a room and the emptiness of a cave. There was nothing just as she is nothing.

The very creatures who have orders to keep her locked away would kill her without resistance if Borra said so. She knew the best thing to do would be to escape and perhaps start a new life by herself. She was to forever be alone but she'd rather do it as a free woman. However, as the weeks turned to months only then did she gradually deteriorate. She would eventually break down. Something she never imagine was possible for someone as heartless as her.

Month one...

Gerda noticed Celtra sometimes attempted to initiate small talk with her, though it was useless. Gerda ignored her presence because she despised the creature and wondered why she even bothered speaking to her. Couldn't she see the hate Gerda held towards her? Either way, it was irritating.

The plan was to study every detail of the cave looking for any possible escape routes. She would have to take out Celtra first when the time comes. Then figure out a way to either take out the guards or move around them without being detected. That alone would be difficult since her scent is very distinctive. She'll figure it out one way or another. She will leave this place.

Month two...

Today has marked another month since she arrived at the cave that she had now grown familiar with. Borra hasn't returned nor did she care. She deeply hoped to never see his face again though she did want to kill him. A part of her looked forward to facing him again if the time came. Each day she was tasked with cleaning, which only fueled the anger she felt toward his kind.

How she went from a powerful woman to a slave who spent her days scrubbing floors and dusting walls began to drive her mad. She wanted so terribly to make them all pay in blood but patience was required on her part. For now, it was best to do her part and memorize what she could of the cave. She just had to be patient.

Month three...

The days were starting to blend together but luckily Gerda managed to mark them down on a wall in her room. Sadly it did not ease her growing feelings of torment and loneliness. She found herself missing her old life with each passing day. It's been so long since she last spoke to a human and it's taking a toll on her mind.

As mad as it sounds Gerda found herself responding to Celtra almost forgetting who she was. She still hated the creatures but noticed her hatred mainly focused on Borra. Oh how she wanted to see him one last time just to make him pay. She wondered when he would return or if he ever would. Her hopes of escaping were slowly dimming. One of those hopes was the chance to cut out Borra's heart and pin it on a wall.

Month four...

She was losing herself. Gerda forgot what it was like to be free and realized that she may forever be stuck inside the cave. The world is continuing on while she rots away, living in the past with her mind declining. This was her life and there was nothing she could do to escape it.

Each night was filled with nightmares while her days were filled with emptiness. She's grown used to Celtra's presence and at times found herself confiding in her. The creature listened to Gerda despite the crimes she had committed against her people. Maybe she deserved to be punished like this after all.

Present...

Gerda spent the last few months nearly going insane with isolation. The only person she spoke to would be Celtra. However, there would be days when Celtra never came so Gerda would spend her time stuck alone in her room. On those days she was overloaded with thoughts and memories from her past. It mentally destroyed her, making her wonder if Borra purposely kept her isolated. Perhaps he hoped to drive her mad from loneliness though he did keep her well-fed. It had to be only to keep her alive so that she could suffer for as long as he wanted.

The times Celtra visited meant that Gerda would be allowed to leave her room and head down to the cave to clean. Most of the cleaning would consist of dusting and sweeping. She began to wonder if any of it was worth living for. The lingering depression continued and there were very few distractions to help her cope with it. Gerda felt like she was losing herself and it scared her to not know who she was anymore.

She had no kingdom to cling on nor did she have anyone who cared. Everyone was simply moving on without her presence. So now here Gerda was inside her cell staring off into the range of endless skies and beautiful mountain tops from her window after cleansing herself. The weather was perfect and crispy fresh air slightly helped with her mood. She spotted a few birds and creatures in the sky that would occasionally fly around in the distance. A part of her was envious of the winged beasts for being able to glide in freedom.

"I hope you're feeling better because today we have a special guest. We will head down to our village and celebrate her victories for our people. They say it is a special day for the Moors and Ulstead." Celtra said not bothering to hide the excitement in her voice.

"What exactly is so special about today? I feel no difference." Gerta admitted, trying to hide the growing feeling of relief.

She will finally get to leave this ghastly place. It didn't matter if it was temporary.

"You shall see very soon but first let's fix you up a bit. I believe a change of clothes shall do." Celtra said, eyeing Gerda's potato sack of a dress.

Gerda nearly groaned in vexation as Celtra fixed her hair by braiding the front pieces and tying them back. She then allowed the rest of her orange hair to cascade down her back in its usual loose curls. Over the months her hair had grown so much that it now reached her low back. She wondered if a simple trim was ever allowed.

"I suppose you wouldn't mind changing into this. It's a much better improvement than walking around in that rag." Celtra announced as she brought out a cream-colored dress that looked very fey-like in design.

The dress was beautiful but something she would prefer to not wear. Gerda was quite hesitant at first but gave in and slid it on. It had reached below her knees which made her feel much more covered compared to her usual rags. The sleeves on the dress were short and ruffled in a way that left her pale shoulders and collar bones exposed.

It formed a v on her chest but didn't expose too much that would make her uncomfortable. The bodice and waistline clung onto her curves but then lightly loosened out around her hips and legs. The material was sheer but thick enough to conceal her bare skin.

"You have filled out quite well over these past months, you were nothing but skin and bones when you first arrived. The dress fits you well and compliments your complexion." Celtra admitted as she brought forth some of Gerda's curls to frame her face.

"As if such things matter. I'm still a slave who belongs to no land." Gerda scoffed feeling her chest tighten at the thought.

"Don't think such thoughts now, perhaps one day that will change. Now come." Celtra said winking at Gerda, only causing her brief confusion.

Gerda followed behind Celtra with unease when she realized this would be the first time in months that she was around others. She only now wished that she wasn't dressed up in a way that might draw attention. Surely there was no need for it but then again it's supposed to be a special day for the fey. Gerda couldn't help but smile when her bare feet touched soft green grass for the first time in ages. She went into her cage and sat down feeling grateful to be outside again.

[multifandom1writer]

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse brainrot!

(Noah is my oc! Pls don't steal him or copy him.)

Noah Alvira

Ghost-Spider

Universe X-547601.

Noah was a spiderman, just like any other, of course his abilities as a ghost and spider allowed him to do more than your regular spider, but at the end of the day, hes just like you and me, and your other regular spider fellows.

Noah is in the spider society, he's quite the social butterfly and isn't afraid to talk with anyone!

Believe it or not he even gets along with Miguel, after all Miguel was his mentor, so I guess that's kind of expected

Everyday he does his best at the whole spider stuff, he may fail, but he always gets back up, no matter what

Because in every other universe, every Peter Parker, Miles Morales and many more, they get up.

Of course, Noah Alvira will do the same.

He's no different between any other spider and all the heroes out there

He may be one single spider, but that different matter to him, no one else could protect his city like he did.

The shiny billboards, the people and the buildings, the great flashing lights and all the sparkling colors are what bring his city to life

And it's what he fights for, for his city, for his life, he may get disrespected from time to time by the people of New York who thinks he's a menace.

But he knows better, because he saves and cares for people

He's a great person that does everything in his power to make sure others are safe.

He is a Spiderman after all.

But Noah, he feels weak, he feels vulnerable and like a bait in an ocean of sharks.

All the comments, the hard words, the stares, the whispers that surrounded him, choked him until he exploded and all that was left was his broken heart.

And he cried, a lot.

That no matter how strong he got, it was never enough.

Until one day, he didn't come back.

He stopped coming around to HQ, abandoned the team, stopped attending his training session with Miguel.

It was like, he disappeared.

Until one day, Miguel had enough, he went to Noah's world.

But he never expected what he saw.

A broken world, green clouds and gray skies, torn buildings and ruins everywhere in what once was the great New York of universe X-547601.

No lights flashed, no people walked, and silence haunted the once cheerful town square.

Clicks and steps sounded in the distance, Miguel was caught off guard as a monster launched at him.

Green pale skin and blank almost blind eyes, decayed body and teeth, ripped clothes and skinny body to the point their bones were visible.

It groaned and grunted like it was trying to speak, but it just tried to slash at Miguel and eat him alive, to contaminate him like it has probably done to so many others.

He hid behind a car, ready to call for backup as even more infected neared, he stopped once the silence came back.

And the only sound heard was the sound of blood hitting the stone cold floor.

Noah panted, so cold his breath formed into a little cloud of breath.

Eyes red with a green hue over them, sharp fangs and pale skin, messy hair and black clothes, torn Spidey suit underneath.

He killed the infected like a beast, black claw like nails digged into the infected's body as Noah killed them with no mercy.

Miguel stood up, shocked at what he was seeing.

The once friendly and kind Noah had turned into a beast, he let his human side go, and now he was pure ghost, just like his name said.

The infected that had once surrounded Miguel now laid on the floor, dead as could be, Noah glared up at him.

Not a single word had to be uttered as they looked at eachother.

Miguel didn't want to believe that was the same Noah he had taken in under his wing and cared for.

He didn't believe this Noah, was the one he had taught how to swing, how to control his ghost powers, how to shoot, how to do everything a spider man needed.

He was lost, Noah's once brown and soft eyes were red with pain, Noah looked lost and broken.

Like he didn't know why he was standing after falling so many times.

So broken and defeated, wanting to feel the warmth of being home again.

But in Noah's mind that didn't matter.

None of it mattered, he would kill how many more needed to be killed, punch who needed to be punched and punish those who deserved to be punished.

He wasn't weak anymore, he didn't himself as weak, he didn't even think of himself like a human anymore.

And that hurt, in so many ways, but it didn't matter, because he had to save New York.

He's a Spiderman, and that's what they do.

No matter how many people he has to kill or fight, just like right now.

He saw Miguel's eyes change, his muscles tensed and his claws became noticable

Miguel wasn't going to let him continue killing those infected.

And Noah knew it.

So he got ready for Miguel's punch, he tumbled backwards as the fist collided with his face, and he looked at Miguel

Tears welling in his eyes as he spoke the next words.

Grief and anger in his voice.

"So....what? You want to kill me? Fine."

Noah stands still and faces Miguel

"Kill me. Right now.

Kill me like I killed those people!"

Miguel's blood ran cold, he couldn't believe what he was hearing or seeing, more like he didn't want to believe.

He remembered when he took Noah under his wing, when he helped him get a better control of his ghost powers, laughing and staying up late watching the city.

His heart broke at the sight of Noah, he wasn't insane, he was hurt and wounding and just needed someone to help him like he helped others

But he didn't know if Noah wanted his help.

Maybe he was to deep into it, and the insanity and pressure if everything was already dragging him into the deep pits of the crevice of his un forgiving brain and world.

That forced something like this into the shoulders of a child.

Maybe Miguel had to do his old disciple one last request, and kill him just like asked.

[bittermuire]

Evidence pt. 2

in which nesta has a crush on a piano player

continued from this snippet

.

If they’d even bother to ask, then Nesta would tell them.

He’s a musician—that’s how they met.

They met on a night neither of them can really remember. It was snowing. One of those pretty first snows, little flakes that melt the moment they get settled on the ground. It was night so the snow was only visible in the glow of gold lamplights lining the streets, a blur outside the restaurant windows. The restaurant, it’s called Evanna.

And Nesta and Evanna became very good friends as she drew apart from the Inner Circle. That dusky, candlelit restaurant demanded nothing from her but sore feet—the musicians there, violins and cellos and drums and the oboe, and the piano, a gorgeous piano, played too well not to dance and to have partners whose faces never repeated themselves. A little drunk, satiated with the sardonic mile-long bill they’d send straight to the townhouse, Nesta was happy, happy, to dance.

At some point he became the piano player.

Sometime around that point Nesta grew very fond of the piano (player).

It was gorgeous after all, with clean lines and glossy wood and a clear ringing sound (and dark-eyed with long nimble fingers and thick, wiry brows that would shoot up and down as he played, a swaying body, half shadowed).

And he played and she danced and peering over countless shoulders and breathing in countless colognes she watched him, the calloused pads of his fingers pressing down keys that could very well have been along her spine. He never seemed to take note of her, no matter how she spun or stepped or stared. You must only have one love, she thought, looking at him look at the piano, but it wasn’t some crushing defeat. Only a crush. A little flutter in her broken heart; a butterfly beating its battered wings in hesitance. Do they still work? Can I still fly?

Her favorite nights were when it was snowing hard and his hair was damp, snowflakes melting in the dark sweep over his forehead. He’d grin and make his way over, squinting, cleaning his glasses on the sleeve of his coat. One hand up in greeting. The cheers of the rest of the musicians, smiles, arms over shoulders, playful teasing. A little visceral, voyeuristic—Nesta would sit at the bar and watch him, enchanted, amazed. What kind of man was he? They liked him. They wanted him there. In an odd way, it was a relief. She felt like a girl again—he’s so handsome, he’s so tall, I just know he’s kind and gentle and sweet—brushing her hair and blushing, heart tripping over carefully collected pictures.

And then���

(This part, this part she wouldn’t tell anyone, except herself, because it’s still a bit too magical and she doesn’t believe in magic, not anymore.)

And then she caught him.

A man’s arm clutched around her waist, murmuring things in her ear; he was too tall and she was struggling a bit to find her man over his shoulder without being too obvious, but then they shifted to the right and he appeared, bent as usual over the keys, glasses in perennial danger of slipping down his nose, and then—

She caught him.

He looked. (For her.)

Turned his head in a scant moment, dark eyes reflecting the candlelight and the dancers, hands shifting like water and memory.

He was looking, searching, and then he found her, and the unmistakable evidence as their eyes met, a key in a lock, click:

A missed note, a stumble over the keys. A quick recovery.

“So, what do you say?”

Her partner’s hand tightened on the small of her back. She looked up at him. “What?”

“Will you come stay for the summer at my estate?”

The music fell away; a scatter of clapping and requests arose as Nesta frowned. “I don’t know who you are,” she told him, and drifted back to the bar.

And the nights became a little warmer, tinged with gold, as the city sank into the woolen heart of winter. Her own heart began to remember how to skip a beat when she saw his face; her lungs, her chest, began to forget how to ache. She took to having a strong coffee rather than a glass of wine. She loved dancing, after all, and it was one of those few things more enjoyable while sober. A string was still tied around her heart and squeezed from time to time, but it was becoming a part of her, not unlike the rush of blood in her veins or the tingle of her skin after coming in from the cold, something strange but recognizable. Myself. Half of the general but also half of her. Bearable and unthreatening.

She was plagued with the usual fears of a girlish crush—did she imagine it? Did she really catch him? Was it all in her head?

But it happened again. And again. And again. His mouth slightly agape, eyes soft behind glasses reflecting the light. The dark brush of his brows as he looked, looked, the telltale misplaced finger and the glances exchanged by the rest of the musicians—the smiles, the knowing laughter, the shaking heads. Like some kind of detective Nesta pinned all the evidence up on a board and drew lines, circled moments, and fell in love.

(And fell in love, oh dear. And with a man she’d never even spoken to, no less!)

He wasn’t so secretive about it, after a while; Nesta twirled and as she brushed her hair from her face she’d catch him, gaze heavy and caught unmistakably on her. She took another hand and went into another pair of arms and as her body was pulled especially close, there was a faint clash of notes. A particularly clumsy one trod on her toes and she rolled her eyes and landed on him, hiding a smile, eyes darting from hers. It wasn’t a secret. And one night, sometime before Solstice, Evanna was quieting down and the number of couples on the floor had dwindled to very few. Nesta was thinking about ordering an especially expensive drink, not even to drink but just to have on the bill, when there was a light tap on her shoulder. She spun around, frowning, but it was him. Her piano player. The frown fell from her mouth, the harsh tilt of her brow. He was real.

“Might I have a dance?” he asked her, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He offered a hand. “Just one.”

She squinted. “Who’s going to play the piano?”

“My friend.”

She peered over at the piano. Sure enough, there was a lanky guy settling down onto the seat, looking curiously down at the keys.

“He’s a… beginner. But he plays quite well.” A faint blush bloomed over his face, clean-shaven and pleasant up close.

She shook her head and took his hand, pushing down a smile. “Fine.”

They moved to the edge of the floor, the click of her heels a little louder in that soft, nearly empty room.

He put his arms around her and after a hesitant moment, gathered her close. He smelled nice, musky and warm. She stepped closer and rested her cheek, rather daringly, on his shoulder. He wasn’t frightening, was he?

“I’ve never played the piano,” she confessed.

He laughed, a light rumble in his chest, against her heart. “I’ll teach you.”

.

I could write so many of these snippets. like them dating, how he proposes, the wedding, how human it would be

[lubdubsworld]

Better Man.

              ~~~~We might still be in love, if you were a better man. ~~~~

Taehyung x OC 

Rating 18 +

Angst. 

Implied Infidelity in the past. 

Chapter 1 ~ Walk out the first time. 

"Are you okay?" My mother's soft voice came from behind me and i panicked, hurriedly swiping at the tears that were streaking down my face. Heart pounding, I grabbed a bunch of tissues from the dresser, patting my face down hurriedly , making sure to keep my back to her. 

"I'm fine, Mom." I said , voice surprisingly steady as I turned around to smile weakly at her. She stood near the doorway, a petite woman of fifty with greying hair and too many wrinkles. 

I thought she looked older than she was and i knew I had a part to play in that. Sighing, I tried not to cry more, moving to gently take my son out of her arms. 

He was four years old, fast asleep and smiling sweetly in his slumber. He had downy black hair, feather soft and warm brown eyes. He looked incredibly like his father, the resemblance stunning even though he was so young. I stared at him some more, laying him down on the bed and brushing the hair off his face. 

"Are you sure there is no mistake? Taehyung ssi wouldn't hurt us like this..." My mother said, sounding broken and I felt a pang of sympathy. But also annoyance. 

Us. 

Us....like she had an equal share in the hurt I was feeling.

 I was the one getting a  divorce but my mother made it sound like it was personal to her as well. Like somehow, the fact that she now had to meet her friends and tell them that her daughter was divorced could compare to the pain I was feeling. To the sheer anguish that was filling me.

To be fair though, my mother had loved Taehyung very much. Her favorite son-in-law . My sister's husband had been a mean drunkard who had brought a lot of misery to our family. Taehyung by contrast had been a loving, filial son in law. He had cared deeply for my parents, paid for my father's funeral ( even though the man itself was nothing more than a drunk , cheating fool who had abandoned us )  and he had been the most kind man . 

I swallowed. 

Maybe , you should have forgiven him. Maybe , you shouldn't have divorced him . So, he slept with another woman. Fine.  It was one night... just one night. you should have gotten over it! Was it worth it to spend all these countless nights alone? To break your mother's heart a thousand times over? 

 The funny thing was, i had forgiven him. Maybe right after I had found out. He had stood there, looking shell-shocked and horrified and his eyes had begged me for forgiveness and my heart had cracked , the way it always did whenever I saw him in distress. And when he had looked me in the eye and said, "  I’m sorry,  Jang mi..." I had forgiven him right then and there.

 But it was the forgetting that was hard. The fear that it would happen again. The fear that somehow, I was the reason he strayed. And that kind of fear can be debilitating. For the first three weeks, I'd tried to pretend it hadn't happened. I had tried hard to see him the way I had always seen him but it had been impossible. everytime I saw him, my heart had broken anew. It had been hard but I had to accept that things would never be the same. That I would forever look at him and remember what he’d done. That I would forever wonder if he would do it again. 

So we had done the wise thing. 

At first a break.

 A few days apart to get our head on straight.  Then I’d found a job and I had to move closer to the office to make the commute easy. And then suddenly, I wasn’t seeing him even during the weekends , to spend time as family for our son’s sake. And just like that , a whole year had passed and we  were separated. Only meeting to hand Hoshi over to each other. 

"I'm sorry mother." I said softly. I knew that she blamed me, a whole lot for the separation. 

People with children  didn't leave each other over infidelity in my country. You hit your husband, denied him from your bed maybe but you didn't break up a family over one night of bad decisions. You just didn't .

But for me, it was beyond the act. It was the broken trust, the shock of knowing that some other woman had given him something I couldn't, the fact that he had even wanted it from another woman had been enough for me to crumble on the inside.  

But, none of it mattered now. 

He wanted a divorce. Officially. Wanted to end it for real. 

It was jarring, how badly it shook me. I felt unaccountably lost and confused and disoriented. I couldn't imagine not being Taehyung’s wife , i realized with a stunning sense of self realization.

 Call me irrational, but apparently, I couldn't stop thinking of him as my husband , even after two years. Soon he wouldn't be my husband. 

He would be  my ex -husband. 

i hated that word. 

It had such a plethora of negative connotations to it. When you hear it , you just brace yourself for unpleasantness.

 Because it is unpleasant. A marriage ending, a family breaking, feelings hurt , hearts shattered,  angry words tossed...its all a very unpleasant experience for everyone involved. 

An ex husband was seldom a harbinger of happiness, more often a reminder of choices gone wrong, regrets and wasted time. and I didn’t want to associate Taehyung with a word like that.

Taehyung who was still the kindest, warmest human being I knew. The best father in the world. 

I felt like someone had sucked all the strength out of me.

I didn’t really want to think about the call I’d gotten from Taehyung last night. An appointment with a divorce lawyer.  It had been followed by an apology because apparently, someone in the law firm had let the info leak. And now it was all over the sleazy tabloids that fed on people’s misery. 

It was impossible to escape it too, Taehyung was famous. An idol. And actor. The country's sweetheart. And he was the epitome of perfection. The beautiful, talented actor with an impeccable record of well behavior. 

I knew that literally everyone on the planet thought he was a literal angel. 

 I remembered how much , by contrast, I had been hated when I'd married him.

I could just imagine how much more it would all be this time around. And i wondered if it bothered Taehyung too. Did he perhaps wish he’d never met me

? 

It had been sheer luck that we had met.... 

In fact, if Jimin's  car hadn't broken down right outside our home on that cold December night, I wouldn't have even met Taehyung. A great cosmic shift, somewhere some butterfly flapped its wing a certain way and suddenly, Jimin’s car ran over a thumbtack and his phone was dead so while he tried to fix the damage , Taehyung  just had to knock on our home and I had been the one to open it. 

Boom. That was it. Love at first sight. 

 I had been a high school kid and he had been barely nineteen. Fresh faced and cheerful , the struggling idol from a small company. He hadn't been surrounded by fans or chased by saesangs. He hadn't had security tailing him. No daesangs, BBMAs, or acting awards. No blockbuster movies to his credit , no chart-bursting songs either . 

And I had fallen in love with that version of him. 

The hardworking, talented young man who worked twice as hard as anyone around him. 

 That's right. You've loved him for fifteen years.  So it's understandable that you're upset. Now, maybe you can move on too. Go on a few of those blind dates that Jiyoung is always setting you up on. Go live your life instead of being a zombie. Get a hair cut. Dye your hair red. Do something to get your life in order. 

"I still find it hard to believe that he would want a divorce. Jangmi yah... did you tell him you forgave him? Tell him you wanted to try again..." My mother said again and the distress in her voice was equal parts heartbreaking and exasperating. 

"Mother, I don't want to try again . We aren't married anymore. It's over, whatever it was between us. " 

 Whatever it was. 

How cruel, to have all that love, all that affection  reduced to a phrase like that. 

What a pity. 

"But what about Hoshi? He needs his father..." My mother cried out and I willed myself not to snap. She means well, I thought miserably. 

"He has a father. Taehyung is an excellent father and you know that. Don’t start that again.” 

My mother sighed.

"I still feel that this wouldn’t happen if you tried a little bit. He’s a good boy. Such a good boy and you could never do anyone better. Why are you so full of pride, Jangmi... so prideful...you should be a little humble. Think of the kind of man he is...where would you find a man like that ? And moreover .... Taehyung loves you. i know he does." My mother said stubbornly. 

I sighed, feeling my fingers shake from the effort not to scream. I wasn’t strong enough to have this conversation with her. Not now. Possibly never. Taehyung did  love me. Had never made any effort to hide it. But sometimes, love wasn’t enough. It just wasn’t. 

And I wanted to yell at my mother she was at least partially to blame for me walking out on Taehyung. 

My father had left us for another woman , when I was twelve. I had seen the toll it had taken on my mother and I just knew that I would never let a man do that to me. My mother had later confided in me that it wasn’t the first time. He had done it before. A lot of times. And my mother had always forgiven him. Let him back into our lives. 

And one night, drunk on soju she had confided between hiccups, ‘ I wish I’d walked out the first time.” 

And that had stuck with me. 

Walk out the first time. 

If he cheats on you , walk out the first time. Don’t stick around waiting for him to do it to you again. Walk out the first time. 

 And so I had. 

“ Should I talk to him? Tell him you’ve changed your mind? “ My mother began and I felt my patience snap.

“No!! Could you just, for the love of God, stay out of this, ma? It’s over. Our marriage is over and it has been over for a long time. A piece of paper doesn’t really change that, does it? Its not my fault you can’t get over it but that’s a you problem. And you need to fix it yourself.  “ I shouted. 

My mother immediately recoiled, eyes shuttering down. 

“Of course. You know the best. Who cares how anyone else feels, right, Jang Mi? You always know best.” She said softly, and I exhaled, shaken. There it was. The guilt trip. It was never ending. 

Please... I just need to go now.” I moved to grab my bag, :” I need to go get ready for the meeting with the lawyers tomorrow. You can keep Hoshi with you tonight.  I’ll come pick him up after I’m done and then I’ll drop him off at his father’s place.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With Taehyung and I, our break up hadn’t been terrible. 

It hadn’t been terrible because our own penchant for being terrible had always been very minimal. We didn’t do swearing or fights or threats and it always annoyed our friends that we got along so well. That it was so easy for us to forgive and move on with each other . That we were the one couple who didn’t hold grudges or bring up past mistakes. 

Which is why, when we did break up, none of our friends had tried to change our minds over it. They had accepted it rather calmly, shocked at first because it was so out of the blue but not opposed to the idea itself . They just trusted us to know the right thing to do because we were easily the most mature , the most level headed couple in the entire group. We were usually the sounding boards , the voice of reason in whatever petty conflict our friends were involved in . 

So when it was us, needling a little advice, a little guidance, our friends had been woefully ill equipped to help. They had merely hummed and nodded and empathized. Maybe that was another reason I’d left. I hadn’t considered the alternative. No one had asked me to consider the alternative. 

Our friends had watched us drift apart watched us break up, but they hadn’t really asked us  why.  

Because if something had caused Kim Taehyung and Jang Mi to break up, man, that must’ve been a really huge issue. 

So the break up had been amicable. Gradual and slow but mostly amicable, eased by our mutual love for our son. We wanted him happy and he was happy when we were happy. So we put on a front, laughed and joked in front of him and let him have some semblance of normalcy in his life. 

It wasn’t easy. 

From him,  it had been nothing but a mess of   heated glances, touches laced with intent and eyes begging forgiveness . every gaze of his was a silent scream for a second chance that I was not at all ready to give. 

Because for me, the raw hurt and anger and frustration that bubbled up every time I saw him , it had nowhere to go. It stayed churning in my gut, made everything bitter and unpalatable and I wanted to hurt him for hurting me. How could I think of a second chance when the hurt from the first, was still so fresh, an open wound festering. 

Self esteem in tatters, I had hated him fiercely. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The meeting was at his company, and I arrived at nine in the morning, with a few more minutes to spare.  I knew the place like the back of my hand, was here at least  once a week either to pick or drop Hoshi off and I knew that the conference room in the third floor was sound proof and cut off from the rest of the building for extra privacy. 

Which was a little too late because I’d found two tabloid newspapers waiting outside my apartment this morning. 

I opened the door carefully, surprised to see Taehyung sitting in one of the chairs, bent over a sheaf of paper on the table and next to him a leggy girl in a small skirt hovered, fingers resting lightly on his shoulder, bent at the optimum angle to show him her curves. 

I sighed, looking away.

It was way too early for this. 

“Mia!” Taehyung’s voice made me look up, and I watched as he stood up, pushing the chair away and moving to me . He was easily the most good looking man in the country. And he looked so good at thirty five that it was impossible to look away from him. 

He was dressed in a pale blue shirt and black slacks and it never amazed me, how good clothes fit him. 

I took in the broad shoulders, thick arms and the lean waist, the carefully styled hair and the breathtakingly beautiful face and sighed when he kept coming closer, hands held out. . 

Of course, the customary hug. 

i let him wrap his arms around me, my face buried in the comforting warmth of his body, the scent of his cologne filling my brain . He always smelled so good it made my heart hurt. I tried not to let myself get carried away. Tried to remind myself that this wasn’t anything more than a.....

A facade ? Or was it? Was his affection genuine? 

Was I just too cynical?

I shook my head, pulling away and smiling a little at the genuine venom in the leggy girl’s face. 

“Are you okay? Where’s Hoshi?” Taehyung brushed the hair off my face, eyes warm and I wondered if he’d forgotten we were here to get a divorce.

 Whenever we met, Taehyung acted like we were still together. 

No, that wasn’t it. 

He just didn’t act like we had broken up. He was affectionate and open and cooperative. It always left me in a sort of limbo, unable to navigate our relationship with clear boundaries. There were no line to stop myself from crossing, because he just didn’t draw them. 

“ Ms. Lee says we just have to go over the details like the alimony and the custody and the division of assets and then we can just proceed. Get it all finalized.  “ He said casually, when I moved away and sat on the chair opposite him. 

“Okay .” I said casually. 

He smiled and turned back to the girl next to him.

“I’ll join you after the meeting Lisa.” he gave her a nice wide smile and the girl practically bloomed under the attention before bowing curtly in my direction. I watched her walk away, slightly amused.

“Bit younger than your usual type.” I commented , glancing at him. He gave me a look.

“I’m not dating her.” He shrugged. 

“Does she know that?” I retorted.

 It was dumb. Uncalled for. I was being a bitch, really but the urge to evoke some kind of reaction from Taehyung was something I’d never really out grown. I liked getting under his skin.

Taehyung sighed and gave me a little smirk.

“Are you jealous, Mia mine?” He teased. 

It felt a little like someone had dug a nine inch dagger straight  into my heart. 

That stupid nickname. 

God I couldn’t bear it. 

Swallowing i looked away. 

“Sorry. “ he said quietly, a few seconds later. 

I nodded curtly. 

“Don’t do it again.” I said hoarsely. 

“Why not?” He whispered gently. 

I groaned. 

“Taehyung... “

“it’s just a name...why does it bother you so much?” He whispered. 

“The same reason you’re asking me for a divorce.” I said softly.

He blinked.

“Mia...”

“Because we both know its time to stop.” I said quietly. “ Stop dancing around each other , stop doing...whatever it is we’ve been doing these past two years and give our relationship a name. “ 

“I’m not very fond of labels.” He shrugged. I glared at him. 

“Well tough luck. Labels are good. Labels are great. They let you draw boundaries. “ I retorted. 

“You sound like you’ve had enough of me.”

“Well, haven’t you had enough of me?” I snapped.

“Not even close.” He leaned forward gently, eyes pinning me to the table with a gaze so strong he may as well have used his body. And it didn’t help that two years wasn’t enough time to forget how it would feel if he  had  used his body. How it would feel to be stretched out on that table, him on top of me, hands working my clothes open, lips kissing their way down my jaw. 

I could almost taste him, taste the minty freshness of his breath, feel his tongue in my mouth, the hardness of him inside me. My thighs clenched because I hadn’t gotten laid in two fucking years and even if i did, no one would ever compare to the man in front of me. 

“Mr. Kim? Mrs. Kim? “ 

The lawyer’s voice broke the spell and i straightened, swallowing. Ms. Lee had walked in , and I watched her close the conference door behind her before locking it gently. 

She was young, dressed in a business suit , a no nonsense bun and had small round framed glasses. She gave me a nice smile, shook hands with us both and placed her briefcase on the table before glancing between us. 

“Shall we begin?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : its gonna be a bumpy ride. 

[theultimateultimateweapon]

Kirby: Meta Knight and the Knight of Hades (Chapter 10)

Morpho Knight swung his sword down the slope, releasing a powerful shock wave. The crescent-shaped waves hit Meta Knight in quick succession.

Meta Knight flew left and right, but his arm was hurt and he groaned in pain. Morpho Knight didn’t even look tired.

Meta Knight remembered what happened in the underworld. In that world, he couldn’t feel tired, hungry, or pain at all. The red knight might not feel any of those feelings no matter how much he fights because of the power of the butterfly of Hades.

If so, does Meta Knight have no chance of winning…?

(No, it can’t be...) Meta Knight gripped his sword and thought. (Those who do not feel tired do not understand the breath of battle. Those who do not feel pain cannot read the movement of their enemy.)

Behind Meta Knight were King Dedede, Kirby, and Blade Knight. Both the great king and Kirby fought desperately, but they had finally lost their strength.

Only Meta Knight was standing. He didn’t know if he could get through this mess. Already, just breathing was painful and his whole body hurt.

(Good. I feel tired and painful because I am alive!)

Meta Knight gathered his strength and jumped up, slashing at Morpho Knight.

However, he repelled it easily.

Morpho Knight slashed violently at Meta Knight’s landing.

Due to his tiredness, Meta Knight, who had been struck before, couldn’t move. He held his sword over his body and guarded desperately, but the damage was great.

His head was fluttering. His eyes were hazy, and his feet were swaying.

(Will I… will I go to the underworld again? This time, forever?) When such an ominous idea came to him, something happened.

“Meta Kniiiiight!”

He heard a loud voice. Waddle Dee’s voice.

Meta Knight raised his face.

Waddle Dee overcame a broken pillar holding something.

“Don’t come any closer!” Meta Knight shouted out.

Waddle Dee turned around, gained momentum, and threw what he was holding in his hand.

“Meta Knight! Here…!”

Something flew through the air. Meta Knight quickly reached out and took it.

Immediately, Meta Knight’s whole body shook. His fatigue and pain disappeared as they were swept away. He felt the power in his hand.

“My treasured sword… the Galaxia!”

It’s unmistakable and genuine. Meta Knight held the Galaxia high. A bright light spilled from the tip of the sword.

Morpho Knight attacked. Meta Knight lightly dodged, shook up and jumped high.

“Spinning Knight!”

While spinning in the air, he slashed at Morpho Knight.

Morpho Knight flinched and was struck down.

Then, immediately, he held his sword horizontally and drill slashed!

Morpho Knight was blown off and struck against a collapsing wall.

Meta Knight had completely regained his power. The Galaxia gave him strength. And the Galaxia was also strengthened by returning to the hands of its true owner. The sword fighter and the sword, united for increased power!

However, Morpho Knight wasn’t finished.

When he stood up, he swung his sword down and sent crescent shock waves one after another. They flew with tremendous speed, but Meta Knight didn’t give up, dodging one after another, getting closer to him.

“Take this-!” Meta Knight swung after Morpho Knight. 

Morpho Knight disappeared suddenly. He escaped with teleportation in an instant. Morpho Knight materialized above and behind Meta Knight.

Meta Knight looked back, feeling sick.

Morpho Knight slid in and rushed through the air.

It was tremendous speed. Meta Knight couldn’t dodge it.

“Kah…!” He was moving before he realized.

He grabbed the Galaxia, held it in front of him, and took a strong stance.

At the moment of attack…

“Galactic Counter!”

A deadly mystery that uses the enemy’s attack power against them!

There was no delay, the timing was perfect.

“...ts!” Morpho Knight stiffened his whole body and his attacks were slow.

The game was on. Meta Knight quietly stared at the enemy.

A streak of light spilled out of Morpho Knight. The lights gradually increased, two, three, and the brightness increased. His mask, his sword, and his wings on his back were swallowed by the white light. The knight turned into a ball of light and disappeared with a burst.

After the knight disappeared, countless red butterflies were dancing. The butterflies flew turbulently, fading little by little, and eventually disappeared as if melting away.

“Meta Knight…”

Meta Knight, staring at the disappeared butterflies, was called and turned around.

It was Kirby. He had been injured in the fight, but seemed to regain some energy.

“Did you win?”

“...Yes.”

“Meta Knight really is strong! I couldn’t do it at all.” Kirby looked a little sick.

Behind him, King Dedede stood up slowly. “Uh… Uugh…!”

The king, leaning on his hammer, managed to support his body and said with envy. “I was supposed to do it… I could’ve mustered the strength…!”

“Didn’t you turn and run?”

“I didn’t run off! I was getting a better vantage point!”

Blade Knight also stood up, in tears. “Meta Knight, sir, wow, you’re safe!”

“Yes. No need to worry about me.”

“But what happened? I could have sworn you were on the battleship Halberd…”

Waddle Dee rushed in before Meta Knight answered. “Meta Knight! You won!”

“Waddle Dee.” Meta Knight turned to Waddle Dee.

“I’m grateful you returned my strength with the Galaxia. Thank you.”

“I just carried it. It was the Galaxia that strengthened you…”

Waddle Dee jumped up. “Wait, we still need your help! Your knights are in a hole!”

“A hole?”

“This way!”

Meta Knight followed Waddle Dee to the knights.

The rescued knights were quiet, even surrounding Meta Knight. Everyone’s hearts were so full that no words came out.

Meta Knight opened his mouth. “It was foolish of me to worry, everyone fought so well.”

“Meta Knight, sir…!”

The Meta Knights wept as if the thread of tension had broken.

Sword Knight said. “You’re the real Meta Knight, aren’t you”

“Do I look like a fake?”

“No! You’re definitely real! There’s a big difference!”

Sword Knight saw Beryl crouching down.

Mace Knight snuck behind and grabbed Beryl’s head.

Axe Knight asked, “Let’s punish him for what he’s done. What do you think?”

“Hm…” Meta Knight thought about it.

Beryl was shaking, rattling. 

Javelin Knight spoke. “Let’s tie him to the bow of the battleship and let him enjoy space travel.”

Trident Knight replied, “Why don’t we send him to Castle Dedede? Let the Waddle Dees take a break and let him do all the castle work alone!”

Axe Knight added, “No, let’s send him to all the towns he destroyed and make him fix them back up again! First, Dreamland!”

Meta Knight spoke. “That’s still too kind. Let’s tie him up so he can’t move and have Kirby perform a song for him.”

“Eh!?” Kirby was surprised. “Why do I have to sing for this guy!? What a waste…!”

“...No, trust me.” Meta Knight told Kirby. “Persuade him with your wonderful singing that he should never do anything wrong again.”

“...Eh? Persuade him?”

“Listening to a wonderful song can change someone’s mind.”

“Oh yeah… songs have the power to move hearts. I see!” Kirby was determined and nodded. “I will sing! It’ll be a moving song that will gentle the heart of any villain!”

“While you’re at it, would you like to serve your home cooking as well? You should make a special dish that will make him cry with excitement.”

“Okay! Looks like Meta Knight is kind to his enemies.”

“Waddle Dee.”

Waddle Dee, who was swaying and listening to the story, jumped up when Meta Knight called out. 

“Ye...yes!”

“I’ll leave it to you. Hold Kirby a concert and set up a special seat for Beryl. Don’t forget to serve Kirby’s special dishes. Have Beryl eat until he is full.”

“Uh… uh… uh, yes…!” Waddle Dee imagined it and nodded in tears of fear.

(Me, Meta Knight…! What a terrifying thing! Kirby’s song is so terrible it could crack the walls of Castle Dedede, and Kirby’s food is so bad he could lose his appetite for the rest of his life…!)

Kirby said with a smile. “Heh, I’ll do my best! Let’s work together, Waddle Dee!”

“Ah… okay…”

“What should I sing? I have to sing with all my heart so Beryl doesn’t do bad things again… of course, I’ll do my best to cook too… Wow, I’m excited! Hey Beryl, I hope you’re looking forward to it!”

“Oh, oh. I’m sure I’ll change my mind.” Beryl was relieved and grinned.

The Meta Knights and King Dedede whispered in the shadow.

“Beryl’s acting like he’s saved.”

“How stupid, he doesn’t know the horror of Kirby.”

“Meta Knight is too cruel. No matter what he did, I’m sorry for Beryl.”

“How could sir make such a proposal…”

“Wow, he’s not kidding around! Good luck, Beryl!”

Meta Knight turned over his cloak and started walking. “Well then, let’s go back to the battleship Halberd.”

“Yes sir!” His subordinates saluted in unison and lined up.

Captain Vul and the Meta Knights were enjoying tea time leisurely for the first time in a long while.

Meta Knight wasn’t there. It seems he had something to do, so he went out without telling them where he was going.

Captain Vul was talking about, of course, Meta Knight.

Axe Knight said. “Even so, it’s strange. Why did Meta Knight, who had been unconscious on the Halberd, appear in the ancient temple?”

Captain Vul replied. “I have an idea, but I can’t quite explain it. I think…”

Captain Vul took a sip of his tea and continued.

“At that time, Meta Knight’s body and mind were disjointed. His body was in a bed in the Halberd here, but his mind was wandering somewhere else.”

“...Huh.”

“Usually, the wandering heart returns to the body. However, Meta Knight is a very strong person, so I think this time his body was called to his heart.”

“...Hmm.”

Blade Knight said. “Meta Knight has a strong body, though.”

“...Well, that is correct. However, if anything, his heart is stronger!”

“Persuasive, if not…” Sword Knight muttered.

“At that time, Galacta Knight took a big hit. Moreover, he was combined with the red butterfly to become even more powerful.”

“Yeah, but what about it?”

“I think I’ve got it. Meta Knight’s desire to fight a strong opponent called to his body.”

“I see, then I understand.”

The Meta Knights nodded.

“Meta Knight’s enthusiasm to fight can be a bit overkill.”

“Hold your tongue. Meta Knight doesn’t like fighting. He likes to make himself stronger.

“Regardless, his desire to fight a strong enemy caused a miracle.”

“As expected from our master!”

Around the time when the peaceful tea party was held on the Halberd, Kirby’s special dinner concert was being held in the basement of the Castle Dedede.

Meta Knight was standing alone in a flower garden of Dreamland.

A pleasant breeze blew and the colorful flowers swayed.

Meta Knight picked up a yellow flower and took a deep breath. It had a refreshing smell.

“It has a nice scent. Pink was… too sweet, wasn’t it?”

Meta Knight couldn’t forget Papi’s happy voice. The whole time he was trying to stop Meta Knight from returning to the original world… At the very end, he was desperate to save Meta Knight. Without Papi, Meta Knight wouldn’t have been able to return to this world.

He wondered, what was Papi doing now? Was he fluttering around looking for someone to talk to?

At that moment, a white butterfly flew by and perched on a yellow flower. It was slowly drinking from the flowers.

Meta Knight muttered in a small voice. “If one day you go to that world, let me know.”

The butterfly stopped moving, as if it had heard Meta Knight’s words.

“I’d like to thank that talkative butterfly with light blue wings. Papi was a good guide… no, a good friend.”

The butterfly fluttered away, and began to fly from flower to flower.

Meta Knight quietly watched until the butterfly disappeared.

(Chapter 9 - Table of Contents)

(The end, thank you so much for reading and all of your support!)

[georgiapeach305132]

Moon Rituals

Summary:  You meet Chase Collins for the first time

Pairings:  Chase Collins X Fae!Reader

Rating:  Explicit  

Warnings:  No warnings for this part, but as the story progresses so will the warnings, so be forewarned it will not stay mild.  18+ ONLY

Word Count:  2k

A/N:  Doing this as a prequel to the Here Kitty, Kitty, Kitty one shot.  I felt this had potential to be more...so let’s see

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

You had never been outside of the Faerie Ring.  The brightly colored toadstools of various sizes, colors, and even shapes, circle around the largest oak in the forest.  The Faerie Ring keeps you, a member of the illustrious Unseelie Court, safe.  The last of the Moon Sprites.  You weren’t as powerful as some of the Fae Folk, but you were still of royal blood.  Protected by the Unseelie Court, especially during moon phase celebrations.  The moon being one of the most important entities to the Unseelie Court.

Your handmaiden Elswyth annoyingly goes everywhere with you.  Even when you sit at the edge of the Faerie Ring, for no reason.  You can’t help but wonder what’s beyond the ring.  Sitting at the edge daydreaming about revelry in their world.  The other fae talk about them like it’s a disease.  They are dangerous.  They would cause harm.  But would they if they didn’t know about your heritage?

All fae possess the power of glamour.  Which comes in handy considering you’re a fae with wings.  Wings that are taller than you, extending above your head, with delicate tails that drag the ground.  Fae not of royal blood don’t have such large wings.  Wings with the most beautiful shades of twilight, deep blues that intertwine together and fade into a nearly silver white.  Delicate but strong wings.  And you stick out because of them.  

Most of the Unseelie Court who have wings, have wings with black, purple, or silvery white.  Their wings are more like gossamer, sheer, and more for looks than functionality.  The Unseelie Court is not as strong as it once was.  Faerie Courts have broken down into smaller courts; The Summer Court, the Autumn Court, the Dark Court, The Winter Court, The Shadow Court, The High Court.  The Unseelie and Seelie Courts are dwindling down.  Even talks of you needing to move to the Shadow Court, but no longer do you want to be cooped up in this stupid Ring, or behind another Ring for that matter.

Just to test out if there’s any alarms that might go off if you happen to leave the Ring you pop out one of your indigo stocking clad feet beyond the Ring.  Resting it outside, for once Elswyth is nowhere to be found, and for once you feel at peace.  That is until you hear the rustling of the leaves.  Unquietly your foot slips back into the safety of the ring.

A handsome man with a square jaw, brunette hair with soft curls, that is styled perfectly walked into your forest.  You know he can’t see you on the other side of the ring, but his piercing blue eyes stare right into your soul.  His mouth cocks to the side as he looks at the ring that surrounds your home, “Faerie folks are in old oaks.”  Kicking around at the dried leaves his gaze sets back upon you, “Is that true?”

You gasp.  Not only does it appear that he looks right at you, but he knows of the fae, and if that’s true he knows what the ring of toadstools means.  His hand rubs along his jaw, and he steps closer to the ring.  Going against everything you’ve been taught you dare to stick your head out at the man.  “Please don’t.  You’ll be trapped here for seven years.”

“So, it is true.”

“I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

“What are you?” he asks, his face holds a kindness, but his eyes they hold a darkness in them.

“A Moon Sprite.  Last of my kind,” you know he probably doesn’t know what that is, nor would it matter.

“What court do you belong to Moonbeam?” you can’t help but have butterflies in your stomach at the nickname he gave you.  Affiliating you with your affinity.  Little does he know the nights you have danced in moonbeams, soaking up their power for your own.

“The Unseelie Court.  How do you know so much about the fae, sir?” you dare to poke even more of your body out of the ring, your shoulders now exposed to the handsome stranger.

“I’m a witch.”

You roll your eyes at him, “They no longer exist, sir.  They allowed their powers to die out.  Too weak for the growing world.  All because they wanted to be acclimated with humans.”

The stranger doesn’t answer you, but his eyes cast over with the blackest black, blocking out his bright sapphire eyes.  The wind stirs in the forest and wiggles around the toadstools, breaking a few off of the thick ring.  “Stop, sir.”

“I had to prove myself.  You believe me?” you nod at him.  “Are you not going to step outside the ring?”

“Not today, sir.  Us fae don’t trust witches.”

“Because we possess real powers?” he asks with a crooked grin.

“Because you know our weaknesses.  You live amongst humans, and you taught them our secrets.”

“I didn’t,” quickly his hand comes up to your cheek, gently caressing it with his thumb.

“Please don’t sir,” your body lurches back after letting his soft warm hands touch your cold skin.

“You don’t have to call me sir, Moonbeam.”

“Then what is your name?” it’s occurred to you that you haven’t given him a name either.

“Chase Collins,” his head tilts towards you, wanting you to offer up your name.

“Moonbeam,” your faerie giggle rings out into the forest.  Stirring the guards outside the ring to your presence.  In the pond nearby a green lady emerges at hearing the last moon sprite outside of the ring.  Her mouth set to attack to protect you from the stranger.  Chase’s body looks around the forest.  His eyes spotting the random fae throughout to protect the Ring.  “Fae don’t give out our names, Chase Collins.  A name holds power.  If I give you my name, then you have power over me, and you are a witch.  I can’t let you have that, sir.” “Does that mean you have power over me?” you nod your head.

“Goodbye, Chase Collins.”

“Wait!  Can I come see you again?” your eyes look up at the sky to view the moon, needing to know what phase it is in.  A few more days until a half moon, you shouldn’t be out of the ring during a full moon, not a Moon Sprite.

“Yes, tomorrow.  Twilight.  I’ll see you tomorrow, Chase Collins.”

“Will I get to see you fully?” he gives you a boyish grin, biting on his lip.

“Perhaps,” Jenny Greenteeth exposes her sharp teeth, hissing at the stranger.  “Come alone.”

“I don’t think she likes me,” he nods over to Jenny, looking and seeing more of the fae, walking closer to him.

“Enough you lot,” you command them.  Because you are of royal blood they cease their movements.  

“You have that power over them?”

“I’m of royal blood Chase Collins.  They are my subjects.”

“Tomorrow,” he bids you farewell.  Walking confidently through the forest.  Eyeing each of the fae before he’s out of sight.

“Your Highness, you know not what he wants.  Witches can’t be trusted,” Jenny warns you.  Her body sliding further into the pond.

“What would you know?  No one inside the ring knows about his visit.  Are we understood?” another command to your subjects.  They nod their head.  “I’ll allow you to guard me tomorrow.”

“Do not step outside the ring,” is Jenny’s final warning before fully becoming the duckweed again.  You fully go back into the ring, with a bigger smile than you have had in thousands of years.  Feeling like for the first time you aren’t alone.

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

It took some time to pull yourself away from the court to make it back out to the edge of the Ring.  Thankfully the majority of the Unseelie are scared of the edge.  Untrusting of “out there”.  You see Chase Collins before you get to the edge.  His body planted on the forest floor, legs crossed, waiting for you.  His long fingers tap along his khaki peacoat.  His eyes daring a glance at Jenny.

“Maybe she’s changed her mind,” Jenny’s voice rings out.  A sharp shrillness that most humans find detestable.

“She’ll show,” he assures her.  Never exhibiting that he’s scared of her.

You sit on your calves.  Giving you the ability to lean your head out of the Ring right at his eye level.  He jolts at the sudden intrusion in his space.  Your tinkling laugh echoes through the forest, stirring the guards at your body in the outside world.

“Are you really not coming out?”

“Not today, Chase Collins.  I was told not to trust witches.  What brings you out to find a Faerie Ring anyways?”  you can’t help but smile at his boyishly handsome face.  Fae don’t look like him.  In all your thousands of years, you’ve never met anyone like him.

“I heard stories.  Wanted to see if you existed.  When I learned of an extremely old oak in the area, I had to investigate.  Can I not come into the ring?”

“You could,” your head nods at him.  “But you would be trapped.  It would feel a mere few hours, until you stepped outside the ring.  Seven years will pass.”

“My Qu... you shouldn’t speak our secrets.  Humans can become our pets,” Jenny’s ever worried tone speaks at you.  Nearly spilling your biggest secret.

“Chase Collins is not a human.  He is a witch,” your eyes never leave his.  The crystal blue nearly putting you in a spell before you quickly look away.

“I may be a witch, but you do hold power over me, since you know my name.  You can just call me Chase though.”

Tilting your head, you look at him confused, “Is your name Chase Collins or not?”

“It is.  Us humans typically only use first names.”

“Seems informal, Chase Collins,” his long fingers pet along your cheek again.

“As does Moonbeam, My Queen,” a wicked grin crosses his face.  Jenny’s voice hisses at him, while her body crawls out of the muck.  Red Caps, sprites, pixies, goblins, and such all march towards him.

“You shouldn’t have said that, witch,” Jenny’s voice screams at him.

“Make them stop,” his voice quietly begs.  His eyes darken to black.

“St-st-stop,” your voice cracks, and none of them listen.  Your whole body emerges from the ring, extending your wings for the guards and Chase to see.  His body backs away from you slightly.  Eyes wide as he takes in your full appearance.  Your hair and eyes turning to silver, reflecting the barely there moon.  Your dress indigo and cobalt, with the deepest leather arm wraps tied tightly around your biceps in intricate patterns.  Extending your wings, you show your true form.  The fae stop, bowing down to you.  “This one is not to be harmed, you lot.  Now be gone.”  With their retreating feet, your form shrinks back.  Ears no longer pointed, your wings go to your back, creating a train for your dress.  

Chases’ body walks closer to you.  “My Queen,” he bows, holding his posture, before his head turns to look up at you.

“Please get up Chase Collins.”  Chase grabs for your hand, gently kissing it, and you nearly melt at his touch.  “I should go,” your voice shaky with the power that his lips left behind.  

“Please, don’t.  You only just go here.”

“Chase Collins, you should forget this place,” he doesn’t have your name, and already you feel him holding a power over you.  You’re a young and naïve Moon Sprite.  You have no business consummating with humans, much less witches.  Humans live for far less a time than you do, and witches cannot be trusted.

“No, don’t say that, Moonbeam.  I... whatever I did I apologize,” his voice sincere.  The wicked look he normally carries disappearing.

“Witches can’t be trusted, Chase Collins.”

“Tomorrow?” he begs, his voice nearly cracking.  “Please.”

“I won’t be coming out of the Ring,” your body walks backwards to the ring, but your wrists are grabbed tightly by Chase’s hands.  A small yelp exists your mouth, but none of your guards stir.

“Promise me.  Or I take you with me.”

“Chase...”

“Promise me,” the darkness in his eyes is evident as you struggle to get away, nearly breaking free before the complete obsidian black coats his eyes.

“Fine.  Tomorrow.”

“Outside of the ring,” his hands loosen their grip, but his onyx eyes get even darker.

“You won’t take me?” the movement of your body stops.  You now have no desire to move back within the safety of your Ring.

“Not tomorrow.”

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

Next

Masterlist

[georgiapeach30513]

Moon Rituals, Part 1

Summary: You meet Chase Collins for the first time

Pairings:  Chase Collins X Fae!Reader

Rating:  Explicit  

Warnings:  No warnings for this part, but as the story progresses so will the warnings, so be forewarned it will not stay mild.  18+ ONLY

Word Count:  2k

A/N:  Doing this as a prequel to the Here Kitty, Kitty, Kitty one shot.  I felt this had potential to be more…so let’s see

Series Masterlist

You had never been outside of the Faerie Ring.  The brightly colored toadstools of various sizes, colors, and even shapes, circle around the largest oak in the forest.  The Faerie Ring keeps you, a member of the illustrious Unseelie Court, safe.  The last of the Moon Sprites.  You weren’t as powerful as some of the Fae Folk, but you were still of royal blood.  Protected by the Unseelie Court, especially during moon phase celebrations.  The moon being one of the most important entities to the Unseelie Court.

Your handmaiden Elswyth annoyingly goes everywhere with you.  Even when you sit at the edge of the Faerie Ring, for no reason.  You can’t help but wonder what’s beyond the ring.  Sitting at the edge daydreaming about revelry in their world.  The other fae talk about them like it’s a disease.  They are dangerous.  They would cause harm.  But would they if they didn’t know about your heritage?

All fae possess the power of glamour.  Which comes in handy considering you’re a fae with wings.  Wings that are taller than you, extending above your head, with delicate tails that drag the ground.  Fae not of royal blood don’t have such large wings.  Wings with the most beautiful shades of twilight, deep blues that intertwine together and fade into a nearly silver white.  Delicate but strong wings.  And you stick out because of them.  

Most of the Unseelie Court who have wings, have wings with black, purple, or silvery white.  Their wings are more like gossamer, sheer, and more for looks than functionality.  The Unseelie Court is not as strong as it once was.  Faerie Courts have broken down into smaller courts; The Summer Court, the Autumn Court, the Dark Court, The Winter Court, The Shadow Court, The High Court.  The Unseelie and Seelie Courts are dwindling down.  Even talks of you needing to move to the Shadow Court, but no longer do you want to be cooped up in this stupid Ring, or behind another Ring for that matter.

Just to test out if there’s any alarms that might go off if you happen to leave the Ring you pop out one of your indigo stocking clad feet beyond the Ring.  Resting it outside, for once Elswyth is nowhere to be found, and for once you feel at peace.  That is until you hear the rustling of the leaves.  Unquietly your foot slips back into the safety of the ring.

A handsome man with a square jaw, brunette hair with soft curls, that is styled perfectly walked into your forest.  You know he can’t see you on the other side of the ring, but his piercing blue eyes stare right into your soul.  His mouth cocks to the side as he looks at the ring that surrounds your home, “Faerie folks are in old oaks.”  Kicking around at the dried leaves his gaze sets back upon you, “Is that true?”

You gasp.  Not only does it appear that he looks right at you, but he knows of the fae, and if that’s true he knows what the ring of toadstools means.  His hand rubs along his jaw, and he steps closer to the ring.  Going against everything you’ve been taught you dare to stick your head out at the man.  “Please don’t.  You’ll be trapped here for seven years.”

“So, it is true.”

“I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

“What are you?” he asks, his face holds a kindness, but his eyes they hold a darkness in them.

“A Moon Sprite.  Last of my kind,” you know he probably doesn’t know what that is, nor would it matter.

“What court do you belong to Moonbeam?” you can’t help but have butterflies in your stomach at the nickname he gave you.  Affiliating you with your affinity.  Little does he know the nights you have danced in moonbeams, soaking up their power for your own.

“The Unseelie Court.  How do you know so much about the fae, sir?” you dare to poke even more of your body out of the ring, your shoulders now exposed to the handsome stranger.

“I’m a witch.”

You roll your eyes at him, “They no longer exist, sir.  They allowed their powers to die out.  Too weak for the growing world.  All because they wanted to be acclimated with humans.”

The stranger doesn’t answer you, but his eyes cast over with the blackest black, blocking out his bright sapphire eyes.  The wind stirs in the forest and wiggles around the toadstools, breaking a few off of the thick ring.  “Stop, sir.”

“I had to prove myself.  You believe me?” you nod at him.  “Are you not going to step outside the ring?”

“Not today, sir.  Us fae don’t trust witches.”

“Because we possess real powers?” he asks with a crooked grin.

“Because you know our weaknesses.  You live amongst humans, and you taught them our secrets.”

“I didn’t,” quickly his hand comes up to your cheek, gently caressing it with his thumb.

“Please don’t sir,” your body lurches back after letting his soft warm hands touch your cold skin.

“You don’t have to call me sir, Moonbeam.”

“Then what is your name?” it’s occurred to you that you haven’t given him a name either.

“Chase Collins,” his head tilts towards you, wanting you to offer up your name.

“Moonbeam,” your faerie giggle rings out into the forest.  Stirring the guards outside the ring to your presence.  In the pond nearby a green lady emerges at hearing the last moon sprite outside of the ring.  Her mouth set to attack to protect you from the stranger.  Chase’s body looks around the forest.  His eyes spotting the random fae throughout to protect the Ring.  “Fae don’t give out our names, Chase Collins.  A name holds power.  If I give you my name, then you have power over me, and you are a witch.  I can’t let you have that, sir.” “Does that mean you have power over me?” you nod your head.

“Goodbye, Chase Collins.”

“Wait!  Can I come see you again?” your eyes look up at the sky to view the moon, needing to know what phase it is in.  A few more days until a half moon, you shouldn’t be out of the ring during a full moon, not a Moon Sprite.

“Yes, tomorrow.  Twilight.  I’ll see you tomorrow, Chase Collins.”

“Will I get to see you fully?” he gives you a boyish grin, biting on his lip.

“Perhaps,” Jenny Greenteeth exposes her sharp teeth, hissing at the stranger.  “Come alone.”

“I don’t think she likes me,” he nods over to Jenny, looking and seeing more of the fae, walking closer to him.

“Enough you lot,” you command them.  Because you are of royal blood they cease their movements.  

“You have that power over them?”

“I’m of royal blood Chase Collins.  They are my subjects.”

“Tomorrow,” he bids you farewell.  Walking confidently through the forest.  Eyeing each of the fae before he’s out of sight.

“Your Highness, you know not what he wants.  Witches can’t be trusted,” Jenny warns you.  Her body sliding further into the pond.

“What would you know?  No one inside the ring knows about his visit.  Are we understood?” another command to your subjects.  They nod their head.  “I’ll allow you to guard me tomorrow.”

“Do not step outside the ring,” is Jenny’s final warning before fully becoming the duckweed again.  You fully go back into the ring, with a bigger smile than you have had in thousands of years.  Feeling like for the first time you aren’t alone.

It took some time to pull yourself away from the court to make it back out to the edge of the Ring.  Thankfully the majority of the Unseelie are scared of the edge.  Untrusting of “out there”.  You see Chase Collins before you get to the edge.  His body planted on the forest floor, legs crossed, waiting for you.  His long fingers tap along his khaki peacoat.  His eyes daring a glance at Jenny.

“Maybe she’s changed her mind,” Jenny’s voice rings out.  A sharp shrillness that most humans find detestable.

“She’ll show,” he assures her.  Never exhibiting that he’s scared of her.

You sit on your calves.  Giving you the ability to lean your head out of the Ring right at his eye level.  He jolts at the sudden intrusion in his space.  Your tinkling laugh echoes through the forest, stirring the guards at your body in the outside world.

“Are you really not coming out?”

“Not today, Chase Collins.  I was told not to trust witches.  What brings you out to find a Faerie Ring anyways?”  you can’t help but smile at his boyishly handsome face.  Fae don’t look like him.  In all your thousands of years, you’ve never met anyone like him.

“I heard stories.  Wanted to see if you existed.  When I learned of an extremely old oak in the area, I had to investigate.  Can I not come into the ring?”

“You could,” your head nods at him.  “But you would be trapped.  It would feel a mere few hours, until you stepped outside the ring.  Seven years will pass.”

“My Qu… you shouldn’t speak our secrets.  Humans can become our pets,” Jenny’s ever worried tone speaks at you.  Nearly spilling your biggest secret.

“Chase Collins is not a human.  He is a witch,” your eyes never leave his.  The crystal blue nearly putting you in a spell before you quickly look away.

“I may be a witch, but you do hold power over me, since you know my name.  You can just call me Chase though.”

Tilting your head, you look at him confused, “Is your name Chase Collins or not?”

“It is.  Us humans typically only use first names.”

“Seems informal, Chase Collins,” his long fingers pet along your cheek again.

“As does Moonbeam, My Queen,” a wicked grin crosses his face.  Jenny’s voice hisses at him, while her body crawls out of the muck.  Red Caps, sprites, pixies, goblins, and such all march towards him.

“You shouldn’t have said that, witch,” Jenny’s voice screams at him.

“Make them stop,” his voice quietly begs.  His eyes darken to black.

“St-st-stop,” your voice cracks, and none of them listen.  Your whole body emerges from the ring, extending your wings for the guards and Chase to see.  His body backs away from you slightly.  Eyes wide as he takes in your full appearance.  Your hair and eyes turning to silver, reflecting the barely there moon.  Your dress indigo and cobalt, with the deepest leather arm wraps tied tightly around your biceps in intricate patterns.  Extending your wings, you show your true form.  The fae stop, bowing down to you.  “This one is not to be harmed, you lot.  Now be gone.”  With their retreating feet, your form shrinks back.  Ears no longer pointed, your wings go to your back, creating a train for your dress.  

Chases’ body walks closer to you.  “My Queen,” he bows, holding his posture, before his head turns to look up at you.

“Please get up Chase Collins.”  Chase grabs for your hand, gently kissing it, and you nearly melt at his touch.  “I should go,” your voice shaky with the power that his lips left behind.  

“Please, don’t.  You only just go here.”

“Chase Collins, you should forget this place,” he doesn’t have your name, and already you feel him holding a power over you.  You’re a young and naïve Moon Sprite.  You have no business consummating with humans, much less witches.  Humans live for far less a time than you do, and witches cannot be trusted.

“No, don’t say that, Moonbeam.  I… whatever I did I apologize,” his voice sincere.  The wicked look he normally carries disappearing.

“Witches can’t be trusted, Chase Collins.”

“Tomorrow?” he begs, his voice nearly cracking.  “Please.”

“I won’t be coming out of the Ring,” your body walks backwards to the ring, but your wrists are grabbed tightly by Chase’s hands.  A small yelp exists your mouth, but none of your guards stir.

“Promise me.  Or I take you with me.”

“Chase…”

“Promise me,” the darkness in his eyes is evident as you struggle to get away, nearly breaking free before the complete obsidian black coats his eyes.

“Fine.  Tomorrow.”

“Outside of the ring,” his hands loosen their grip, but his onyx eyes get even darker.

“You won’t take me?” the movement of your body stops.  You now have no desire to move back within the safety of your Ring.

“Not tomorrow.”

Next

Masterlist

[heliads]

Best Kept Secrets (Part Two)

Based on this request: “Wanda and the reader are married and the reader mom is Agatha but the reader does not know that…Then Agatha watches the reader having a good time with her family and Agatha is happy but sad because we get another flashback of the reader snapping their finger in order to destroy thanos and his army.”

part one / masterlist

Cameras continue rolling, boom mics lower. Episode begins.

Y/N looks around, at their family gathered nearby. There’s a white and red checked picnic blanket tucked around them, a water bottle sloshing noisily in their lowering grasp. Y/N’s wife, Wanda, is speaking to their two twin sons, Billy and Tommy, who are delighted over a grasshopper they’ve spotted among the emerald stalks beneath their feet. To any unsuspecting passersby, the scene would look perfectly normal, and it should be so, yet there’s still a cloud of unease lingering over Y/N’s face. For a second, Y/N didn’t think they were back at the Westview park but instead in some unfamiliar place.

It had happened just as Y/N was reaching for the water bottle. They had been kneeling, right hand outstretched, and then the scene had shifted around them. The sky had turned an ashy gray, the dew-drenched grass broken up into rubble and debris. Y/N had been kneeling in that same position, hand outstretched, but there was something wrong there, something that had filled them with this strange determined terror…

Y/N is jolted back to reality when their young son, Billy, turns to her with a concerned expression. “Is everything alright? You look too unhappy for a fun picnic.” A gentle smile slips onto Y/N’s face like a well-worn glove. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me. I was just finishing up my lunch. Speaking of which, it looks like you boys are done eating as well. Is there anything else you’d like to do while we’re here?” Tommy nods excitedly, bounding up from his position on the picnic blanket. “I saw the coolest dragonflies and bugs around us.” 

Wanda laughs. “Doesn’t that sound interesting! Here, take these. You can catch us some insects to study.” With a flourish of her hand, Wanda turns two wooden serving spoons into identical butterfly nets, and hands one to each twin. They look at each other in excitement then dart off into the grass, swinging the nets with enthusiasm, if lacking somewhat in coordination. Y/N gives Wanda an amused stare. “What about the spoons?” Wanda waves a hand dismissively. “I can turn them back later. Sure makes packing easier to just change all the cutlery into toys.”

The audience laughs at that, and Y/N grins. “Speaking of which, let’s speed up the packing of the picnic basket.” With a gesture of their hands, all of the plates and utensils fly into the wicker basket in a flurry of purple sparks. Wanda nods appreciatively. “I’m going to have to learn that trick.” Y/N stands up, glancing around her at the paths leading out of the park. “Just curious, did you see Agnes walking around? I could have sworn I saw her just a few minutes ago.” Wanda frowns. “I don’t think so. Are you looking for her?” Y/N glances around one last time, then shrugs. “Not anymore, I guess.”

Billy, having just successfully snared a dragonfly, calls over to Y/N. Y/N walks over, admiring the insect with their son. Billy considers it one last time, then turns over the net and releases it. Y/N watches it go. “That’s a good choice. As much fun as it is to study interesting things, you always have to let them go in the end.” Billy nods sagely. “You know, I finally get why you and Mom work so well together.” Y/N smiles questioningly. “Why is that?” Billy stares out over the park, looking for more winged insects. “She always has so many thoughts in your head, and yours sometimes don’t show up at all. She’s noisy and you’re quiet, and it works out.”

Y/N tilts their head to the side, looking over at Billy. “What do you mean, I’m quiet?” Billy shrugs. “I can’t hear as many of your thoughts. It kind of reminds me of Agnes, actually. She does the same thing.” Y/N’s brow furrows, but they still allow a fond expression to cross their face. “Look at you go, using your powers. I think it’s amazing that you can tell all that already.” Billy beams, glad for the compliment, then races off after a recently sighted butterfly.

Y/N watches him as he chases after it, raising his net high in the air to successfully entangle the butterfly in the woven fabric. Y/N’s smile disappears from their face, however, as they watch the butterfly struggling in the net. As it flutters around, looking for a possible escape, the bright violet of its wings seems to darken, almost vanishing into empty gray. With every flutter of its wings, the purple leaches from the butterfly.

There’s another sight in Y/N’s eyes now. Y/N can still see that electric purple hue circling around something, can still see it trembling and disappearing into nothingness. But the violet isn’t clinging to a butterfly’s wings this time. No, it’s around a hand, Y/N’s hand, and it’s vanishing as Y/N’s heart rate seems to slow, because as the purple fades away so to does she, which means that Y/N is-

Y/N’s eyes widen, dragging them back to reality as Wanda walks up next to them. Wanda frowns at the look on Y/N’s face. “Are you alright? You look worried. I thought Billy specifically requested that you have a good time.” Y/N laughs at the joke. “As much fun as that sounds, it’s a lot easier to change someone else’s emotions than to fix your own.” Wanda makes a face at the camera. “You have no idea.” Laughter ripples down from the audience, and Y/N looks around for a second as if trying to find out its source. 

Wanda puts a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, gently steering them back to face her once again. “You are feeling alright, yes? I just want to make sure everything is under control.” Y/N looks back at Wanda, but their expression is still tinged with unease. “It always is with you around, isn’t it?”

Cameras cut to B-Roll footage. Screen fades to black, but shortly opens on a new scene- Wanda and Y/N’s bedroom.

Y/N lies awake, staring at the ceiling. Beside them, Wanda sleeps peacefully, but Y/N seems unable to share in her quiet rest. Y/N closes her eyes, as if considering something, then slips silently from the blankets and out of bed. Wanda starts to stir, but then Y/N flicks her hands towards the cameras, and they turn away, shut down. Wanda returns back to her deep sleep, no longer concerned.

Cameras are unresponsive. Scene cuts to black.

Y/N quickly dons a pair of comfortable clothes before heading out of the house and down the block. They can still hear Billy’s voice echoing in the recesses of their head- I can’t hear that many of your thoughts. It kind of reminds me of Agnes, actually. She does the same thing. Y/N knows why Billy can’t hear their mind, it’s because of Y/N’s magic, but why would Agnes have the same ability?

After a couple of quiet knocks, Agnes’ front door opens. Agnes looks startled to see Y/N standing there, and hurriedly gestures for them to come inside, quickly shutting the door behind them. “Not that I don’t love spending time with my closest of friends, but can I get a reason for this late-night visit?” Agnes glances around her, but Y/N holds up a hand. “Don’t worry about the cameras- I shut them off. Nobody can see us right now.” Agnes’ head jerks up. “You know about the cameras?” Y/N inclines their head. “Only every now and then. I think I lose my memory of them sometimes because certain people want me to forget.”

Agnes nods in agreement, then a sudden movement outside in the street catches her eye. Agnes turns her head slowly to face the window and curses softly when she sees a figure moving down the street. Y/N follows her gaze. “Why is the mailman out doing his route? It’s the middle of the night.” Agnes grimaces. “Wanda must have sent him out to see where you were. Even unconsciously, she can still tell that you’re looking into things that you’re not supposed to know about.”

The mailman is almost at their window when Agnes’ hand moves almost imperceptibly, and the man looks the other way, avoiding Agnes’ house completely. Y/N’s eyes dart to Agnes’ hand, at the brief flash of indigo electricity that had danced around her fingers. “You have the same magic as I do. How is that possible?” Agnes faces Y/N with a look like a caged animal. “Why did you call me Agatha on our last visit?” She counters, and Y/N sighs. “I don’t know. It just came into my head. Now tell me- do you really have the same powers as I do?”

Agatha- for it is truly Agatha now- holds up a hand, allowing the purple sparks to flicker between her fingers. “It’s less of a power and more of a learned ability.” Y/N’s brow furrows as they consider this, and then their eyes widen. “I’ve never seen anyone with that same ability, and I shouldn’t ever, unless-” They break off, staring at Agatha. “I thought my mother abandoned me long ago. I thought she was dead. But she’s not, is she? She’s you.” Agatha nods once, and Y/N looks overwhelmed.

“You’ve known all along. You knew that I was your child and you never once looked for me? You could have told me when I first arrived. You could have never left me at all. Why do it then, for fun? Because you were sick of me, even though I was too small to know what you were doing?” Agatha winces like she’s been slapped. “I didn’t want to leave you! I had a coven, a coven with strict rules, and they made me give you up. I didn’t know who you were until a week or so ago when you arrived here, I swear it. I would have found you long ago had I known.”

Y/N’s breathing is harsh in their chest. “Do you mean it? You would have stayed with me?” Agatha nods. “Leaving you was one of my worst regrets. It haunted me every day.” Y/N stands there, as if in a trance, then rushes over, flinging their arms around their mother. Agatha seems frozen in place, then slowly wraps her arms around her child to return the embrace. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I never meant for this to happen.” Y/N nods. “I know. It’s alright now.”

Cameras return with a shower of ruby sparks. Scene opens in the Maximoff-L/N family kitchen.

Tommy is standing alone at the kitchen table, fixing himself a peanut butter sandwich. His brother is off in his room, trying to teach himself a new card trick he’d seen their Uncle Pietro do once. Y/N walks into the kitchen, and glances over at their son. “How’s the sandwich?” Tommy nods, his face a mask of complete concentration. “I have to get it just right. The perfect sandwich is key to the perfect day.” Y/N raises an eyebrow. “I can understand that. How do you know it’s perfect?” 

Tommy carefully smears a last dollop of peanut butter onto his sandwich, reverently placing the two pieces of bread together. “I just know. With the right toastiness of the bread, and the crunchy peanut butter, perfectness was practically inevitable.” He snaps his fingers in satisfaction. Y/N flinches, staring at Tommy’s hand. Inevitable. The snap. Wait-

Another hand is snapping its fingers, another hand clad in a large golden glove. No, it was not a glove but a gauntlet. It’s not Y/N’s hand this time, it’s someone else’s, and someone else’s voice declaring that they were inevitable. And then there’s a voice coming from behind the figure, who whirls around in outrage, and it must be Y/N’s voice speaking now. Y/N replies, but most importantly they snap their fingers as well, the cloud of purple magic over their hand lit up by six gems spangled into the gauntlet on their own hand, and-

Wanda walks into the room again, forcing Y/N to return to the present moment. Wanda takes in the sight of Y/N, about to head through the door. “Where are you heading in such a rush?” She asks. “I was heading to Agnes’, actually.” Y/N says, and Wanda frowns. “Why do you keep bringing up Agnes? First at the picnic, then again here. I mean, she’s just our neighbour, right?” Y/N glances over at her. “Does it really matter? I just want to see her.” Y/N starts to turn away towards the door, but Wanda reaches out an arm to block their path. “Actually, I was thinking we should have a talk. Let’s go into the other room.”

Wanda’s hand is enclosed around Y/N’s wrist, practically dragging them away into a spare bedroom. Once the door is shut behind them, Y/N snatches their hand back from Wanda’s grip. “What’s gotten into you?” Wanda scowls. “What’s gotten into me? Y/N, you’ve been acting very strangely the last couple of days. I think you need to relax.” The word seems charged with some sort of energy, and Y/N takes a step back, as if to avoid it. “Are you trying to mind control me?”

Wanda’s lips tighten. “Why would I do that?” She says, forcing a laugh. Y/N raises an eyebrow. “Well, of all the ways to deny mind control, I have to say that was the least convincing.” Wanda folds her arms across her chest. “You sound paranoid. Why would I want to control your mind?” Y/N starts to pace back and forth across the room. “That’s the problem- I don’t know. I don’t know a lot of things, actually.” Y/N stops walking, and faces Wanda again. “I can’t remember anything about my life before we got to Westview. I know about my powers, and I know about you, but that’s it. Why is everything else a blank?”

Wanda frowns. “Aren’t I enough for you?”  Y/N sighs. “You’re more than enough, Wanda, which is why it hadn’t occurred to me before now. I just keep feeling like something is wrong, and I need to wake up and figure out what it is, but every time I try I feel like you’re always there to stop me from remembering.” Wanda’s concerned expression shifts into a colder stare. “Don’t try to make me the villain. I will always care about you most of all, before anyone.” Y/N can’t return her gaze. “I wish I could believe that, but I keep starting to remember things. I think something happened to me, but I can’t remember what it was. You won’t let me remember what it was.”

Wanda’s eyes flash with ice. “I will do what I want. I’m doing everything to protect you, and I don’t know why you can’t be content with that.” Y/N’s face hardens. “I can’t trust you anymore, Wanda. You won’t let me.” Y/N strides to the door, throws it open. “I’d come up with one last snappy comeback for the show, but I suppose you’re in charge of all the scenes, aren’t you?” With that, Y/N storms away, leaving Wanda standing there in shocked anger.

Cameras focus on Wanda, who is reassuring the twins that everything is fine. Cameras do not pick up Y/N L/N, who is moving quickly towards the barriers of the town.

Y/N’s blood is pumping through their veins, surges of adrenaline making their eyes glow violet with power. There’s something on the tip of their tongue, a discovery that needs to be made. So, Y/N heads for the edge of town, towards the street where they first arrived in Westview. As they approach the city limits, Y/N’s head tilts up in awe. There’s a line designating the edge of town, and beyond that, a tall barrier glistening with magic. No other human would have been able to see it, but the magic of centuries of witches run through Y/N, and their eyes can pick up details that no one else can see.

Y/N comes to a stop in front of the town boundary, and reaches out a hand. Where their fingers touch the barrier, scarlet light is replaced by indigo. With a movement of their hands, Y/N draws aside the barrier as if it were a curtain, the light changing into purple wherever she walks. Through the boundary, Y/N can see the town beyond, but it lacks the charming simplicity of Westview- instead, there are armored vehicles and encampments, all of them military. Scores of soldiers stand guard, watching her approach. Just as Y/N fully steps through the boundary, however, they collapse to the ground.

Pain swirls around Y/N like a storm. As Y/N watches, fragments of their very being begin to drift away. It’s as if Y/N is being eroded by time itself, a statue being carried away to dust and rubble in the span of seconds. There’s a shout from across the encampment, and a woman with dark hair runs up to her. The woman - Darcy, Y/N can read her mind - is restrained by guards, but in a weakened gesture Y/N uses her abilities to pull the soldiers away from her. Darcy sprints up to Y/N, but she seems unable to save them. Y/N croaks out a question. “What happened to me?” Tears fill Darcy’s eyes. “You died in the battle against Thanos. You sacrificed yourself to save all of us.” As Y/N hears Darcy’s words, a sense of clarity seems to enter them, and Y/N’s eyes clear at last, even as her body breaks down into shards of pure magical energy.

Cameras stay on the Maximoff-L/N home, where Wanda and Agnes sit with the twins. Recordings do not pick up the incident currently occurring on the Westview boundary.

Billy turns to his mother suddenly. “Mom, something’s wrong with Y/N. I can hear their thoughts in my head.” Wanda looks up at him. “What do you mean?” Billy looks terrified. “Y/N’s in pain, so much pain. I can hear them screaming. Mom, I think Y/N is about to die.” Wanda and Agnes both rise at the same time, expressions of terror mirroring each other. Agnes murmurs something about having to go, and she quickly disappears out the door while Wanda does her best to locate her spouse. Wanda flings out her arms, eyes flashing scarlet with the magnitude of the power she is about to use. Around Westview, the boundary begins to expand.

As soon as Agatha closes the front door behind her, she instantly vanishes, appearing in the space near the boundary. She stares with an open mouth as the barrier surrounding the town glows an angry crimson, and glides forward across the ground. After a second, the boundary leaves behind a single body, lying alone in the grass. Agatha runs to it, and has to choke back a scream at the sight of her child.

Y/N should have healed. They should have started healing, they should not be in this much disrepair. Y/N is lying crumpled on the ground, watching their body begin to disintegrate away. Agatha kneels over her child. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you getting better?” Y/N smiles up at her. “The power of the Infinity Stones cannot be undone forever. I was called to die long ago, and Wanda can’t reform me for much longer.” Agatha shakes her head, tears starting to course down her cheeks. “I’m not ready to let you go. Not yet. I just found you.”

Y/N’s eyes glow with warmth, and they place a trembling hand on Agatha’s cheek. “We were never supposed to meet, so any hour together was already on borrowed time. I’m grateful to have this much.” Y/N’s head tilts to the side, as if listening to an approaching sound. “Wanda is coming. You’ll have to go before she gets here, because she doesn’t know who you really are.” Agatha is shaking her head in refusal. “I can’t leave you here. I can’t let you die.” Y/N’s hand clasps onto Agatha’s, gripping it tightly. “None of us can really die, not forever. I’ll stick around, even if it’s on the other side. Now go, before it’s too late.” Agatha takes in one last look at her child, then vanishes into the empty air, just as Wanda bursts into view on Y/N’s other side.

Wanda falls to the ground beside Y/N. “I didn’t want this to happen. I should have told you everything. Y/N, you-” Y/N cuts her off gently. “It’s alright, Wanda. I know. I died at the battle against Thanos, and I would like nothing more than to be able to come back and stay here with you, but life has a way of not always following through.” For a second, the dying Avenger thinks it’s raining, until Y/N realizes that it’s just Wanda’s tears falling onto their cheeks.

Wanda forces back a sob as she watches Y/N’s body begin to dissolve away. “What do I tell the boys when you don’t return? How are we supposed to keep going?” Y/N smiles at her, pure and lacking in the bittersweet tinge that had always tainted it before. “The boys will have you, and that’s all any of us needed. You’re the one that will always matter, Wanda, even after I’m gone. I knew that when I met you, and I’ll know it even after I close my eyes.”

Wanda leans over, presses her forehead to Y/N’s. “I love you, Y/N. I love you so much.” Y/N laughs, the sound slightly tinny as their chest turns to ash. “I love you too. I’ll see you soon.” Wanda closes her eyes and kisses Y/N softly. When she opens her eyes again, she is kneeling alone in the middle of a grassy field. Y/N has finally been laid to rest.

Cameras begin to refocus on the Maximoff-L/N home, but there’s a flash of scarlet and they turn off, disappearing into the night. They are no longer necessary. Wanda leaves the studio, tears still drying on her cheeks. It is time to rebuild.

wanda maximoff tag list: @mionemymind​

[dancingthesambaa]

The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 11

Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black furred monkey put out a hand towards him.

Rating: Teen and up

Chapter 11: It’s a Bittersweet Reunion

“Monkey King!” MK quickly stood up as he rushed towards his mentor, “it’s not what it-” he quieted down as he felt Monkey King glint ominously as he stared him down.

“You should probably listen to starlight there,” Macaque tried to say, but he sighed when the stare was directed back to him, but a lot more threatening.

“What have you done to him!?”

“Or you can just ignore me,” he sighed dramatically, but his entire body was buzzing in anticipation for the first strike. He knew how this is all gonna go down whether he likes it or not. So he takes a step forward with his hands out and says, “look Wukong, it’s-” then promptly stops as the Monkey sage takes a step towards him.

“Don’t you take another step forward,” he growled out.

“Look Wukong-”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I refuse to call you Monkey King, so Wukong,” he emphasized. He didn’t call him Monkey King back then and he sure as hell is not about to start now. “Open your fucking ears and listen, I’m not gonna hurt the kid.”

“Nice try, but I’m not buying it,” he watched his every twitch, just waiting to see when he would strike.

“But I’m not, you really think I’d hurt a kid?”

Wukong said nothing, but his narrowed eyes were all the answer he needed.

Macaque sucked in a sharp breath and gritted his teeth shut as his nails dug into the palm of his hands. He tried his best to ignore the hushed whispers in his head that begged him to show him real fear. Show how deep our shadows can take him. Show him how to see with one eye like him. Show him painpainpainpain. Then he let the air harshly out of his nose as clenched his teeth as he growled out. “You really think that low of me huh.”

“After what you did to them,” he shifted his foot back and gripped tightly onto his staff, “it does make me question a few things.”

The six eared demon couldn’t stop the jealousy and irritation that flowed through his mind when he heard those venomous words. Didn’t stop his hands from shaking nor his eyes or ears from twitching.

“What were you doing with MK,” he repeated himself.

“Oh some herb gathering, I’m out of stock you know,” he sarcastically said.

“If you're going to lie, at least think of a more feasible story,” Mac really wanted to rip off his tongue at that, “tell me the truth.”

“Or what?”

“But it’s true!” MK tried to say, but it seemed that his words were ignored.

“Or I’ll make you,” he let the golden energy roll over him as he stood in front of his student.

“Just try it,” he taunted as his own violent aura emerged and coiled around him. He knew where this was headed, but at this point he didn’t care, he wanted to vent out all his frustrations to this dumbass monkey for a long time. He sent over a glance to MK, who looked to be on the verge of a mental breakdown, to stand far away.

He heard it loud and clear as he opened and closed his mouth repeatedly before running as far as he could.

Then, in less than a heartbeat, there was a loud sound that blasted out as the two monkeys collided together in a burst of torrent energy.

BOOM BOOM BOOOOOM

They separated as the blow blew them both back, but Wukong charged first once more as Macaque sank into the shadows to avoid the attack. That didn’t deter the golden monkey as he activated his eyes of truth with a quick glance charged at one spot, only to block an attack from a clone emerging while the other followed suit.

“You really think it would be that simple,” taunted Macaque as he rushed in with a swing of his glowing staff.

Wukong easily dispelled the clones and side swept him with his own staff.

Neither side gave him as they instinctively began to run further toward the mountain while still attacking one another.

Both monkeys are opposite of one another in many ways, but those differences seem to not matter when face to face with each other as they both counter each other's moves.

When Wukong became a bird and flew high to drop down into a tiger, Macaque manipulated his shadows to tackle him out of mid air and send him spiraling to become a crater on the ground.

When Macaque tried to grapple him from behind and throw him to the mountain side, Wukong nimbly dodged and sent him a sidekick to the side.

When Wukong sent out a flurry of blows, Macaque easily blocked each strike with his own staff.

When Macaque attempts to kick him to the mountain and pin him there, Wukong jumps high and hurdles him away from him.

When one attacks, the other counter.

When the other strikes, one will block.

It was almost an endless cycle.

It may have been a long time since they last saw each other, but the knowledge and the instinct that was left upon them never failed for a second. So, with both monkeys equally matched it would lead to a stand still as neither side gave in or could push enough.

So how would this end?

With both sides killing the other off with one final blast, leaving the mountain and perhaps even part of the city in ruins?

Not quite. Actually it would end when MK had enough of this stupid fight and recklessly charges in.

“STOOPPP!” He yelled out as he made the final jump and stood in between the two enraged monkeys. He knows this is a very stupid move that he is gonna get lectured on later, but he thinks that this is the only way to stop the two of them from fighting.

And he was right. Both monkeys' eyes widened in horror as they saw where their attack was heading.

“MK/STARLIGHT!” They both screamed as both of them immediately aborted their powered up blast and screeched to a halt before they could run into him.

The sage monkey could feel his heart drilling in his ears as he was so grateful that he managed to stop when he did. Before he could grab his kid, another force beat him to it as he saw Macaque rush over to him. He sprinted over there to stop him from hurting him but it was too late as the black furred monkey grabbed MK, picked him up…and began to examine him frantically?

“Are you okay? Did you get hit? Did the excess release of the energy seep out and injure you? Do you feel any nausea, headaches, dizziness, need to run around and blow shit up, bloody nose?” He began to search not only his physical self, but his inner self in both body and spirit. He may train him and Mei to the ground every session and make them wish they wanted to rip out their own bones, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t take the utmost care of them. Hence why they have never left training with any broken bones or fractures alike, this is probably why everyone calls him a worrywart.

‘…what?’ Wukong blinked at the scene in front of him.

“I’m fine,” he tried to push the hands off him and focus him back on what was previously happening.

“That still doesn’t take away from the fact that you recklessly charged into the fight and almost got yourself killed!” He hissed out.

“Meep,” he lowered his head as he remembered, right, his Dad could care less if the world was burning around them if he was hurt in any way. Though that doesn’t stop the warm feeling in his gut at the thought.

“Ummm, what’s happening?” Monkey King couldn’t help but ask as he stepped forward, only to be stopped by Macaque turning to him, as he pushed MK behind him, and let out a short snarl to him with his eyes burning a bright violet.

He only stopped once he realized just who he was looking at and remembered what just happened not even a minute ago as he slowly eased his posture. But even when his eyes were focused on the monkey in front, he still kept three of his ears to MK behind.

“Wouldn’t you like to know tinker bell,” he couldn’t help grunting out.

“Okay, first off rude and secondly, I just want to know what you're doing with my student?” He rolled his eyes cause at this point he sorta figured out that he may have been slightly wrong about something. He just can’t put his finger on what.

“Oh now you want to talk,” the medicine monkey huffed, “would have been a nice idea before you decided to up and try to kill me.”

“I wasn’t going to kill you,” Wukong immediately said. “Just knock you out,” and that was the solid truth. He may not see eye to eye with him anymore, but he will not take away his life. He refuses to.

“Oh cause that’s so much better.”

“Would you rather you be a hundred feet underground?”

“As if you can manage that, I felt that last punch, it seems you are slacking old man,” he gave him a nasty smile.

“By only a thousand year!” His eye twitched at the age-old insult.

“Keep telling yourself that old man.”

“There may be a standstill but that still won’t stop me from throwing your scrawny ass off this mountain!”

“I would rather not,” both monkeys startled at the sound of MK's voice and they quickly backed away from each other as they just realized how close they were standing to the other. “I rather like my Dad alive.”

“MK don’t do-wait YOUR DAD?!” You can almost hear his neck snap towards his student at his words.

“Yeahhhh,” he couldn’t help but avoid those bewildered eyes as he rubbed his neck.

Wukong could barely comprehend his words as he turned his head to a very smug monkey.

“Surprise mother fucker,” he couldn’t help but say. He was very much enjoying this.

And for the first time, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, finally took a good look at his former friend and noticed that he has definitely changed. He couldn’t decide what to focus on, from his new clothes, his long mane (which really threw him for a loop), his sleek fur, or his very sparkly nails. But he decided it was probably best to focus on the human he is actually willing to protect as he formed up an articulate question in his head out loud.

“Dad?” Nope, he was still very thrown off about this. Macaque is a Dad?!? Are we still talking about the same angst demon monkey that would barely even stand the presence of others let alone a human child?!

“Huh, congratulations. I think you finally broke what was left of his brain no matter how small it may have been,” he complimented his child.

“I really wasn’t trying,” he sighed as he stepped closer.

“Then that’s even more pathetic on his part.”

“I’m still here,” Wukong couldn’t help but announce.

“Oh really I thought you left,” Macaque sarcastically said, “well since you're here then I guess you finally have time to listen or are you just gonna be an impulsive idiot again.”

“Okay, I’ll admit that I may have jumped the gun, but can you blame me for thinking that you would try something to get back at me?!” He shouted back, not knowing the fuse he had lit.

“Excuse me!?” At this point the demon monkey was fed up as he began to march back over to the sage monkey to start round two. He hoped he did not imply what he thought he did.

“I-I mean you used to never do this before,” he quickly said to calm down the enraged monkey, though he probably should have listened to MK frantic hand movements as they all gestured him to basically ‘shut up before you get killed.’

“I ‘used’ to! Past tense you egotistical fool! People-demons-I can change! I have changed, I know I am not the same demon I was thousands of years ago!” He had to stop himself from dragging his hands to that pretty little throat/begging him to understand. “I am not the same.”

“And you just happen to stumble upon a human who so happens to be able to pick up my staff?” He said in disbelief.

“Want to hear something shocking? Yes! I did! I found him and I adopted him cause I could, cause I wanted to, cause I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving him alone! So get off your high horse and come down to the rest of us beings, cause the world doesn’t revolve around you Sun Wukong.” Macaque could barely hold in his anger as he spat out his name.

Wukong didn’t even flinch as he held his ground, he knows that people can change, he sure as fuck had, but right now he wants to make sure that the demon in front of him had changed for the better. He knows he is driving a bigger gap between them than before (hurtpainpainwhydontdoithetribematefriend) but he can’t take any chances, especially with the kid involved in their mess. “That still doesn’t mean that you won’t try to use him against me like before!”

And it was that moment that the fuse hit the combustion and Macaque erupted in a glorious and deadly violet light as he smashed his right fist into the mountain side and moments later, that came crumbling down.

“How dare you,” the low voice harshly echoed out.

“Wha-”

“How fucking DARE YOU!” Voices overlapped each other as a pulse of dark violent energy instinctively flared out towards Wukong, who was just able to stand his ground against the wave.

“Mac-” The monkey tried to speak but was abruptly cut off.

“How dare you accuse I would do anything to harm my child! Fuck you, you flea ridden coward! Here’s a fucking clue things change! I can admit I done some shit in the past, I screwed many over, and I damn sure stained red with the blood of innocent and guilty, but don’t you even dare for a goddamn moment that you never done messed up shit fuck face! But how fucking dare you accuse I would do anything to harm my child!” His eyes glowed in pure rage as he locked onto shocked golden eyes. He was done.

“No! No I don’t thi-” He shouldn’t have done this, he shouldn’t have said a damn thing.

“Shut up! Like fuck I know I made my own stupid mistakes and even when centuries have passed I will never make up for some of those, do you want me to say sorry? Cause I fucking am!” He clenched his robes to where his heart was as he gripped it right.

Wukong eyes feel like it couldn’t enlarge anymore as he reached out a hand to him, “Mac-”

“I’m sorry for attacking you and your friends so many times! I’m sorry that I couldn’t change my ways back then! I’m sorry that I couldn’t keep up! I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to stay by your side! I’m sorry for all the years you wasted being my other half!”

He is sorry that he spend all those years with his Sun, he is sorry that he couldn’t help but feel alive when he is with him, he is sorry that he couldn’t help but falling in love with him for all those years, but he doesn’t-will not say that outloud nor will he ever truly regret it.

Wukong feels everything shrinking in on him as he only has eyes for only one as of this moment. He could see the anger in his voice, the frustration in his eyes, and the rage in his stand.

But if there is one thing Macaque has always been good at, it is playing the part, cause he can also see the desperation in his tone, the misery in his eyes and the pure betrayal in how his shoulders are a bit too firm.

“Mac no! I-” He wanted to explain that he didn’t want this, that he was being an idiot.

“Shut up!” He didn’t want to hear anymore.

“Listen!” He wanted to explain it all.

“Shut up!” Not a single word, not now.

“Please, just-” He needs to tell him.

Then his glamor flickered as all of his scars showed on his body and his hazy blind one appeared as he bared his fangs and screeched out.

“I said SAVE IT BASTARD!”

It was dead silent on the mountain trail, no bird was chirping, no leaves were rustling, not even a sound of heavy breathing was heard. If you listened closely you could hear the beating heartbeat of every living thing, which was quite a feat unto itself, but it was suffocating to two demons facing each other on the mountain.

MK was the one who finally broke the silence as he walked up next to him, while making sure his footsteps were loudly heard, and gently spoke. “Dad, your glamor.”

That was what snapped Macaque out as he looked down to his scar filled hands and already instinctively knew the ones on his face, let alone the rest of his body, was prominent. So, he took a long deep breath as he held one hand over his blind eye and released it as he put the glamor back on.

“I’ll be leaving first starlight, yell if you need me,” he quietly said as he lowered his hand to reveal the scarless eyes.

“I will…are you okay dad?” He worriedly asked as he looked at him.

Macaque could only muster up a small smile at his child care as he ruffled his hair, before sinking into the shadows.

Not once looking back to his old friend.

MK could only faintly watch his dad shadow travel and as soon as he knew he couldn’t see him anymore, he whirled around to the Monkey King, who still had a very horrified expression, with a pissed off look, “What the hell was that?!”

“What have I done?” He hoarsely said as he still had his eyes on the traveling shadow even when it had long escaped from the mountain.

“I don’t know, maybe jump to conclusions!” He snarked out to the Monkey King for the first time. He respects him, he really does and that won’t change, but that he cares more for the monkey who raised him and took care of him for all those years. So yeah, he is getting some answers out of him whether he likes it or not.

Monkey King, who hadn't moved since Macaque left, finally pried his eyes away from the moving shadow, no matter how much he wanted to follow, and looked to his student. “I messed up real bad, didn’t I.”

“If you mean by indiscriminately yelling at my dad before he even had the chance to speak then promptly fighting him and then going back to yelling at him once more? Then yeah, you did,” he sarcastically said.

He winced at the harsh, but very justifiable, tone. “…so, he’s your dad?” And he still can’t help but ask, because Macaque raising a child was not even on his list of things he could have imagined.

“Geez, how’d you figure that one out?”

“You get your snark from him don’t you,” he couldn’t help but say.

“Oh yeah,” he unashamedly said, “he did raise me after all.”

Wukong wilted at the reminder, “He did, didn’t he.” It was after he said that was when he squatted down, gripped his hair, and let out a short burst of frustration. He doesn’t know if he can come back from this, if things were bad before, they are absolutely horrendous to the pit of despair now.

The student silently calmed down as he blinked at the monkey sage actions then a few things finally clicked into place. “You still care about him.”

“What, the books don’t emphasize enough of our ‘wonderful’ relationship to each other,” Monkey King couldn’t help but sarcastically say. He has read the book and let’s just say that there are some details so far off that it just makes him want to completely rip all his fur off.

“No, but dad does tell me that you were his first friend,” he plopped down next to him.

The Monkey King, “He talks about me?”

“Ohhh yeah, he told me all the things you guys did together. Like that one time where you tried to trick a corrupt ruler by disguising as a pair of priests.”

“To be fair, the two of us were really hungry and that buffet that he had looked real damn good, it’s not our fault that the man got outed in the end and was left on the cliff…well only a little bit,” he snorted. You can’t blame them for being hungry, but they may have had a rather loud conversation out loud about the extravagant feast they saw to a couple of people…in the market of the common folks….and as they were in the middle of a shortage. Things just tend to escalate sometimes, but can you really blame them?

“Dad just said that what goes around comes around.”

“That too,” he said with a small chuckle as he trailed off and sighed, “he was with me since almost the beginning. When I left the mountain for the first time, I didn’t have my monkey nor did I know anyone, so meeting him was a blessing.��

“He told me the two of you met after you ate a mountain deity offering,” MK said.

“Like I said, I was still new to the world and I barely knew a damn thing, but he was there for basically it all and has to be one of the main reasons I’m even alive today, cause I can be real and admit that he was at least 75 percent of my impulse control.” He remembered all those times he had run off at the sight of the newest shiny objects or the next food and the amount of times Mac had to drag his ass away from there before the two of them were caught. “And I managed to ruin that all…twice!” He moaned out as he gripped his hair once more in frustration.

MK just watched his teacher silently self deprecate himself, he knows what it looks like, and sighed as he patted his shoulder. “It’s not totally over.”

“I essentially attacked him twice! I know some of those scars were made by me during our first battle and his eye,” he stopped short as he could feel the bile rise up as he remembered the hazy honey color eye floating back into his mind. “I made him blind, he is blind in one eye and I did that. Fuck I did that…I can’t forgive myself let alone even think he will forgive me.”

“Dad can hold a grudge, but he can also forgive. By the gods knows how many times I messed up before,” he lightly jokes.

“You're his kid and by the looks of it, someone he cares for greatly.” He doesn’t think he has ever seen his friend that worried before unless it was aimed towards him whenever he got badly injured. There is a painful tug of something weird coming from his stomach at the thought.

“And you're his friend, someone who he also cares for,” he shot back. “The two of you need better communication, but you two aren’t shattered and crushed up by a horse hoof during a race, just a bit broken but it can still be fixed.”

The monkey looked his student in the eye, “You really think so?”

“Mmhmm, Dad has missed you for all those years after all.” If he was any less observant he would have missed his Dad's nostalgic expression whenever he told him a story about them or his sad eyes when he would ask questions about the Monkey King.

“He’s not the only one,” he said as he finally sat down from his squatting position. “…can you tell me more about him?” It was about time he got reacquainted with his friend, they had over five hundred years after all. Maybe it was time to go back in the world again and see what he has been missing out on.

“Well he likes to garden,” he switched positions and crossed his legs together, this was gonna be a long talk.

Wukong's eyes blinked rapidly, “Now that’s new, I remembered that when we needed food we would just go to someone's farm and take some food there, there were so many times Mac took out weeds by accident, but damn it we still ate it just for the laughs.” He gave a small smile.

“He still does that from time to time out of habit.”

“Complains about it getting stuck in his teeth?” His eyes brighten.

“All the time,” he agreed.

The monkey let out a short chuckle, “Is that why you guys were up here? To get more plants?”

“Well no, we were here getting some herbs.”

“Herbs? Like for medicine?” He shot straight up and tried to ignore the growing pit of horror in his stomach. “Are you sick? Is he sick? Are you guys okay?!”

MK quickly shook his hands to dispel the worries monkey, he already had one, he was not looking for another. “No, nothing like that. He’s…well I guess basically a Doctor, I mean no one really puts a name on it, but yeah he usually collects herbs for his supply.”

“I’m sorry, he’s a what?!” Great! And here’s another thing he could have never imagined that Macaque being! “When-how-why did he become a Doctor?!”

“Honestly, he just said he was bored one day and saw Ping making medicine and decided to learn from him,” he shrugged. He should be glad that the Monkey King has come out of his depressive state, despite his over reaction to his dad…though it is quite funny.

“Whose Ping?” He knows that this is not someone the both of them knew when they were still friends, so this must have happened after.

“Ping is the human who-” MK cut himself off as he realized that perhaps he shouldn’t just tell his father personal secrets to someone he just had a fight with. “…who is one of his friends, he can tell you more about it if you ask.” Which will not be any time soon.

“Yeah, I’ll do that,” he said with deceit dripping from his voice, totally spacing out when he heard the word ‘friends’. “What else?”

“He sometimes likes to do shadow puppetry in the theater.”

“Now that’s something I know he won’t give up, I remember that he was more dramatic than me when it concerns his puppetry.”

“That’s what I said and he still is!”

Now everything still wasn’t fine despite the lighthearted atmosphere that surrounded the two. There was still a bone deep hurt that needed much time to be healed and nurtured between the two immortal simians, but this was the first step, no matter how small this may be. It will take time, patience, and so many apologies before anything can be forgiven, but for now it was the time to learn and let both monkeys calm down. For when it is time to meet once more, it is needless to say that a certain impulsive simian is going to go full force.

The sun was setting by the time MK got back from the mountain, he decided to go to his dad’s place for the night after he called up Pigsy to tell him the small change. When he entered through the front door the whole house was completely dark and silent as not a single light was on nor a single sound was uttered.

‘Oh no,’ he silently thought to himself as he made his way past the living room, passed their bedroom and finally faced a closet where they stored all of their pillows and blankets. He gently opened the door and his heart dropped as he saw his dad there in almost pitch darkness, kneeling with his head almost touching the ground and his hands covering all six of his ears as he methodically tapped the back of his neck with his middle finger.

MK opened his mouth to ask if he was alright, but promptly closed it as he realized just how stupid that question was, so instead he quickly head out to gathered some items before coming back. He placed the bowl of fruit and water bottles on the shelf above, he gently pried his dad hands off his ears and put the headphones on instead, he made sure to wrap the weighted blanket around the both of them, and he gently redirected his dad head to instead lay on his lap after he closed the door and began to groom his dad mane.

And yet throughout this entire process, Macaque had yet to utter a single word nor even shift an inch from his spot.

The boy knew he wasn’t going to respond, but he still can’t help himself but feel a twinge of anger directed at the Monkey King at what he has done.

‘This whole day was a disaster and a half,’ he narrowed his eyes as he numbly threaded his fingers in the fluffy fur. ‘He may be a God, but he’s not infallible…he’s not perfect.’ And with this little thought, he began to really realize that despite status or power, no one can be truly perfect. Not the Monkey King nor any other higher being that claims to be above them all. It’s a cynical thought, but he thinks that maybe it’s more real than he can imagine.

But those thoughts can wait for now. Right now, all he wants to do is focus on grooming this fur and just being there for his dad.

In the forest when the moon was high all were mostly sleeping and all was calm. Though some were laid to rest, there were other creatures, both mythical and not, that were waking up to their nightly routine. Everything was the same as always and nothing had changed enough to really bother any creatures despite.

Not even for a newly planted Plum Blossom seed that lay deep within the forest.

[itsmoonphobic]

Dream SMP characters and my interpretation of them:

-Techno: The smell of Dirt and soil,blood,wine and old books. Silk pillowcases,golden jewelry,mosaics,stained fingertips, grand staircases,scented candles,storyteller,lazy smiles, secretive,slow dancing,sad resting face,elegant language,cold weather,confident,doubts himself,philosophy, messy braids,glowdust flakes, poetry,graceful movements,neat and cursive handwriting, greek mythology, oriental music,pale skin,libraries,sarcasm, long-lasting friendships,quotes,frosted windows,layering clothes, know-it-all,rude but endearing,pile of papers,cherry blossoms,muted colors,overthinks everything,devotion,logical thinking,insomniac,scattered mind,castle walls,laid back,tired eyes,long debates,show over tell,lingering touches,rulebreaker, dirty palms,old movies freezing feet,old habits,late nights studying,early riser,skips meals,eye bags,tea with milk,velvet jackets,dimly lit by streetlights,ancient wood floors,flowy curtains,art museums, gravely morning voice,echos in the middle of nowhere,sleepy whispers,nostalgia everywhere,red lipstick stains,loves animal more than people,calm and quiet, healing stones,parked car conversations,sharp jaw,obsessed with memes,violins,doves, doves,floats instead of walks,unbroken promises,twisting and winding hair around fingers,nail biting, repeating phrases,mist secret scars,rumors,always wearing earphones,metaphorical, emotions fragile as a flower, speaks with his eyes,fluttery eyelashes,dog lover,forehead kisses,calligraphy,pretty knives,cares too much,lopsided grins,messy desks,talks for hours no,rolling his eyes all the time,powerful strides,wants to conquer the world,slender hands,good grades, dusty book covers,wax stamped envelopes,vintage mirrors

-Phil: The smell of cold air,pine trees and sandalwood.Dead birds and mothballs,stops on the sidewalk to make sure nobody is left behind,morning person,herbal teas,crows,eats breakfast outside,constellations,family portraits on walls, chirping and whistling,crime documentaries,cool father figure, graveyards,weeping angels,meteor shower,many friends but only a single close one,contagious laugh,fragile teacups,fog, early mornings,fuzzy blankets,springs of thyme,bare feet, empty streets,rosemary stems,flickering lanterns,burnt wood bowls,feather collector,antique silverware,a sky full of stars, skylights,torn pages,overstuffed bookshelves,makes you feel comfortable whenever you talk to him,organized,full of ideas, believes in magic,gives the best advice,lost in his own way, warm hugs,scrapbooks and bullet journals,old cars,soft features,daydreaming,bright eyes,getting lost in the woods,moonlight,self knitted sweaters, stargazing on tailgates,the universe,hand in hand with wandering hearts, garage sales,questioning life but feeling at peace,attic bedrooms and haylofts,pursuing science and desiring art, photo albums,hopeless romantic,dark chocolate,open windows and quirky morning rituals,actually knows what brunch is, succulents,a kind-hearted loner,free-spirit,plaid button-ups, always ready to let you rant,abandons projects quickly, complicated past,bold moves,goes with the flow,aims for things that seem unachievable,lives in extremes,knowing smiles,constantly busy with something new,soft touches,love at first sight,naps alot,subsequent tea stains,sparkly eyes, abandoned barns,handwritten notes,feather quills,fascination with the sky,whispering secrets to the wind,great with kids, takes a backpack everywhere,hugs trees,big winter coats,road trips,knows tons of medical info,bites his nails,comforting presence,lost souls,city lights from a high rise

-Wilbur: The smell of fire,smoke,caramel and coffee. Stands up for people who can't for themselves,emotional wreck,loves his family too much but still yells at them,soft turtlenecks,sits in different spots every time he eats dinner,chipped nailpolish, songwriter,probably depressed,wakes up in the middle of the night to write down random thoughts,heartbroken teenager songs,dark psychology and deep meanings,globes and maps, wants to travel and make lots of memories,curls of steam, earbuds in,spattered ink,good singer,keeps to himself,old music and dusty vinyl,the type of person that you could stare at for hours,loud laugh,ride or die,dreams about his future, believes in fresh starts and new beginnings, messy and tangled hair,summer nights,soft features,deep thinker and dimples, having crushes,musicals and theater, half finished diaries and laptop stickers,mixtapes,quirky love notes, secretly kinda insane,always ready for coffee,thrift shops, beachy waves, bonfires,probably drives too fast,cutoff jeans, cream and sugar,nude colors,always creating new problems for himself, fights for equality,long debates and tired eyes, tapping a rhythm and humming quietly,spends all his time on social media,beanie galore,trench coats,foggy glasses,cozy sweaters, dancing around his room to the Beatles,looking out the window when the sun is setting,birkenstocks,guitar strumming on a warm summer evening,bells and chimes,subtle sadness, the feeling of diving into a deep pool,perfect proportions,too many playlists,holding hands,pretty boy,sew on patches and bomber jackets,candid photos,warm sun on bare skin,dancing silhouettes on the sunsets,beach walks at midnight,messy but cozy room,different mood every minute,singing his favorite song at the top of his lungs,sharp grins,haunted houses, paranormal stuff,late night snack runs with friends,explores creeks and lakes,double checks everything he does,walking through hot sand,backyard campfires,acoustic songs,photo booths,train platforms at night,s'mores,sun bleached arbors

-Tommy: The smell of plastic,fresh cut grass and musk. Does the bare minimum at School,unless genuinely interested in a topic,doodles on the side of his paper,movie marathons,empty coca cola bottles everywhere,rope swings,glossy nailpolish,lots of energy,life of the party, kidcore ,can always make you laugh,loves photography,eyestrain and bright colors,bruised knees and untied shoelaces,paperballs in class,brand new red converse,denim jackets,pins and clips,chalk drawings in the middle of the road,every text contains emojis, garden sprinklers,graffiti,wreck this journal,vibrant dyed hair, scribbles and highlighter pens,carnivals,involed in many things, watermelon flavored anything,loves to climb trees,screaming on playgrounds,oversized t-shirts,stained glass windows, anklets,skateboards and hula hoops,milkshakes on the front porch,social butterfly,always in a hurry,pinkie promises,tangled headphones,melted crayons and gummy bears,bean bags and hummingbirds,spinning around till he gets dizzy,chaotic and crazy yet so fun to be around,rushing into things too quickly, roller coasters and derbies,doesn't get knocked back by criticism,cans of fizzy drinks and neon lights,skips school,tye dye shirts and nitendo games,impulse and class clown,sticks stickers on stranger's things,pickpockets his close friends,has to carry a walkie-talkie around with him at all times,sleepovers and sneaking out through windows,pockets full of change and random buttons,stands out in crowds and makes friends easily, pretends to be fearless but is scared of the littlest things,trips and rips his jeans daily,uno cards,social butterfly,music discs, fights with his family but would actually kill for them,broken handwriting,flannels and jerseys around his waist

-Tubbo: The smell of honey,fresh bread and citrus. Lowkey soft, hugging a teddy bear,pressed flowers,eats alot of bread,big hoodies,fairy lights and blanket forts,prank calls while holding in your laughter,beeswax candles,sidewalk dandelions,gentle cuddles on the couch,pastel yellow and cute doodles,flower crowns and diasy chains,plays the ukulele,fascinated by bees and supports local coffee shops,outdoorsy sunshine addict, sparklers and iced lemonade,festivals with fireworks and fireflies in mason jars,homework done as soon as its assigned, watercolor paintings,giggling uncontrollably,long hugs and lazy cartoon afternoons,park dates and forehead kisses,cutting pants into shorts,messy wild hair and pear lollipops,has tiny random braids decorated with golden yarn,hearing the crinkle of leaves underfoot,suprise piggy back rides,adult swim shows and lip gloss stains,being goofy without meaning to,bounces in his step and stops to pet stray animals,baked bread and washi tape bracelets,bike rides and summer picnics,rolling down a hill in the spring and bringing home grass stains on his jeans, waving at someone across a crowded room,spontaneous hang outs and self made clay rings,sitting in the warm sunlit grass on early spring mornings,rock painting and hiding them for other people to find,picking apples from trees but needing to be held up in order to reach one

-Ranboo: The smell of peppermint tea,denim and rain. Is there for everyone but never themselves,regrets things they said but can never find the nerves to apologize,clumps of mascara and winged eyeliner,writes down every tiny thing in notebooks, loves children and their friends,forgetting that they already grabbed a waterbottle,drawing on condensation windows,rainy days and puddles,always on the edge of a breakdown,elevator music and long limbs,old tape recordings and cassettes,moss covered ruins and greenhouses,wanting to be in multiple places at the same time,different colored socks,long hugs and head pats,reading under the covers,collages and spray paint,record players and walks alone through the woods,loves playing by creeks and collecting stones,always wondering and worrying about things they shouldn't,vivid dreams and leather jackets, silver necklaces and piercings,snoozing their alarm clock, seeing the moon in the early morning,blurry photographs and windswept hair,downpours and comfortable silence,wrapping gifts and handing them over with shaking hands,sitting on a rooftop and spontaneous plans,lofi sounds and long train roads,deja vu moments,randomly dissapears and sipping tea, cold concrete and city parks,tickets and brochures from places they visited,dusty parchment and desperately trying to be a good person,wikipedia articles and lace-up boots,often loses track of time while talking to people they love,sings to the radio and avoids conflict if possible,can't sit still for five minutes, perpetually in an emo phase and knows more than they let on, hawaiian shirts,henna tattoos and sparkling water,sleeping in complete darkness and the relief of falling into bed,midnight thunderstorms and anticipation for the coming day,lucky charms and the sound of rain hitting the windows

-Dream: The smell of apples,eucalyptus,vanilla and green tea. Freckles and smiley faces,glow sticks and wrinkled linen, probably a really good singer,wild laughter and jellyfish, popular,tanned skin and cruising with the top down,doesn't take shit from anyone,analytical and self assured,beachy waves and dreamy sunsets,running barefoot,likes being active and on the go at all times,sassy and dramatic as fuck,dream catchers and hammocks,glow in the dark stickers on his phonecase, feisty and a sense of danger,brought home stray cats when he was a child,falling in love with strangers,waking up early and continue laying on the bed,golden hours and 4pm naps,soft aching hands burried in messy hair,center of attention,static and heavy breathing,old percy jackson books under the bed, throwing pebbles at the closed windows of his friends' room, retro diners at 2am,adrenaline junkie and nighttime thriver,will go insane if cooped up indoors for too long,deadlines till last minute,oversleeping and coming home past midnight,naturally a really good surfer,hugs from behind and neck kisses,checking the fridge at 1am,ice cream in bed and cat cuddles,always picks up over facetime

Might make more parts for some of the other guys :)