#everyday i wake up and i lament over the fact that i did not go to art school

[hidekomoon]

Paramore albums redesigns: Brand New Eyes (2009)

[amor-immortalem]

Everything Undesired

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Warnings: dead dove: do not eat, heavily implied rape, gross misuse of a pact, dissociation victim blaming

Summary: not all pact masters use their pacts judiciously or in a positive way. What happens when a pact is misused in one of the worst ways possible?

A/N: so a while back I did a comic by the name of ‘Meet Me Under the Azaleas’ I’m no longer happy with the writing I put into it originally so I wanted to rewrite it using the same plot line and adding some extra scenes that weren’t in the original comic which I’ll be taking down tonight. It should work better as a fic anyway.

Chapter 1

“You are ours. We own you.”

Those words rang in his head over and over as he stumbled his way into his room, overstimulated, exhausted- a mess. He knew it was a mistake to answer the call of those witches tonight. The thoughts of what they did, how their hands ran over his body, what they had taken away. It made his stomach churn and tie itself in knots with guilt and shame. It burned just the same as the rope marks on his wrists and ankles- wounds that would heal within the hour.

“You won’t breathe a word of this to anyone- this we command of you, Avatar of Greed.”

Those women -no, they were monsters- abused the innate trust that comes with a demon who enters a pact with a human, multiple in this case. They had violated the boundaries he’d put in place the day he started dating his human. Oh God, what would she think if word ever got out? He had no way of speaking out- to scream the truth until his voice was raw.

He needed to shower, to get the stench of sex and sweat off of him. He had to get their scent off of him. As he entered the bathroom, Mammon tore off his clothes as he started the water. The lights remained off as he couldn’t bare to look at himself after what happened. Not after how he just let them use him like that.

He stepped under the boiling water and just let it run against him. The falling water did nothing to drown out the deafening voices running rampant in his mind.

“Disgusting!” They roared, “Useless! Pathetic! Weak! Whore! ….. Scum!”

He falls to the floor of his shower, hands gripping at his hair as he let out a whimper that eventually turned into quiet sobs. The steamy air making it harder to breathe. Why didn’t he fight against them harder- against their orders. No, he just laid there and took it.

He grabbed the soap and a wash rag and scrubbed his body until every bit of him was raw and even then he wouldn’t stop. It was only when he saw the blood swirling around the drain that Mammon realized what he was doing to himself- how bad the water burned the exposed skin. It felt like hellfire raining down upon him.

He felt horrible as he reached up and switched the water off. He could still hear it in his head as he reached for a towel- all the crying, screaming, begging for them to stop.

He was a pathetic, sorry excuse of a demon, he thinks as he wraps the towel around his waist and travels down the his stairs quietly. It’s early morning now. There was only a few hours left before he would have wake up for school. He contemplated just skipping the entire day. There would be know way he’d be able to function. He could always say he feels sick- its not that far from the truth. He would decide in a few hours, he thought as he crawled into bed. It didn’t take long for her to move closer to him. His naturally warmer body temperature was what drew her to him. His body involuntarily tensing as she nuzzled into his chest, arms slipping around his body. He would only tuck her head under his chin and drape and arm over her side as he let the scent of her shampoo relax him enough to fall into a light sleep.

After a short while, someone's alarm blared among the sheets- whether it his or Arella's, he couldn't be sure. Mammon patted around for the offending phone, just wanting to get five more minutes of shut eye. He eventually succeeded but not without waking his partner.

"Morning, Love," Arella sighed, her voice still laced with the grogginess of sleep.

"Mornin', Treasure," The demon yawns as he curls back up, pulling her closer to his chest. "Sleep well?"

"I did. What time you get back last night?" Arella's voice is soft as her hand slides under his shirt, rubbing gently along his side.

"5 this mornin'." He says as he tries to hide the way his body recoils from her touch, a pang of guilt strikes his heart as she notices. "Sorry... 'm not really feelin' all that great right now..."

"No, that's alright." She removes her hand from his side, choosing instead to rest it against his cheek as she readjusts herself so she's eye-level with him on the pillow. "How selfish of those witches to keep you out so late on a school night..." Its at this point she notices the puffiness and how red his eyes are. "You look like you've been crying... Is everything alright?"

He just shakes his head. Mammon wants so badly to tell her what happened to him the night before- the real reason he got home so late, but unsurprisingly, no words come out. He just closes his eyes, letting himself relax under her gentle touch. "I'm jus' really tired s'all."

"I believe it. You only got a hour and a half's worth of sleep. Would you like to just stay home all day, just the two of us?" Arella moves him so he's resting with his head on her chest.

"That's sounds.... nice," he hums quietly, so close to falling back into the clutches of sleep.

"Alright then. Go on and go back to sleep," She kisses the top of his head, carding her fingers through the soft, fluffy locks the other hand rubbing small circles in the center of his back. "I've got you."

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

This carried on for months. The witches would summon him and as long as he complied with their wishes, they would hold his secret. By the third time, he would check out- let his mind escape to anywhere but the present until it was over. It became a vicious cycle. They would call, he would go to them, and then he would crawl into his bed for maybe an hour or two before forcing himself to get up for classes that he often fell asleep in. After the tenth, once they had finished with him, he asked why they were doing this and they told him.

“We desire something to bind you to us for the rest of our lives.”

“A child.”

The demon’s eyes widened at that. Never in his life had he been so opposed to the idea of having children. In fact, just before all of this happened he had been daydreaming about what his children with Arella would look like if they were ever so fortunate to have any but a child with one of the witches? It made him sick. A half-demon born from a demon of his status had a high probability of killing its mother- one who he would then have to raise. How could he explain that to his brothers- to Arella? The very thought filled him with dread. How could he ever bring himself to care for a child conceived from a crime? A child that would always be nothing but a constant reminder of the worst nights of his life. They didn’t deserve a life like that.

And so Mammon did the only thing he could think to do: he fled. He ran back to the Devildom, back to House of Lamentation as fast a his legs would carry him. He crashed through the doors of the house. Never had he been so greatful to be the first one home. As he climbed the steps up to his room he vowed to himself never again. He wouldn’t give them what they wanted, consequences be damned.

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

It had been six months since his last encounter with the witches. There was nothing on their end- absolute radio silence. Part of Mammon wondered if they'd gotten what they wanted from him after all. Everyday was filled with the anxiety of not knowing. His nightmares had gotten worse. Most of them were based around those nights he'd spent with them, others involved everyone finding out a one-sided version of what had happened, all spun in the favor of the witches. He dreamed of Arella leaving him, heart-broken from the implication that he would stray from her and running into the arms of one of his brothers. The worst ones- the ones he would wake up from covered in a cold sweat in the dead of night- consisted of him standing in the witches' home, the sounds of screaming, the smell of blood, the piercing first cries somewhere between the call of a demon and the screams of a human baby infecting his senses. It all felt too real. It felt like a crushing weight on his chest.

Over this time, Mammon had grown distant from both his brothers and Arella, hardly spending anytime with them. He fell apart. The grades he worked so hard to pull up had taken a nose dive, he was hardly eating- choosing only to consume just barely enough to sustain himself. He no longer slept for fear of the nightmares and he instead threw himself into side jobs that would keep him out of the house well passed curfew as well as earn him plentiful amounts of grimm. He couldn't go on like this much longer.

Everyone was worried for him. None of them had ever seen the Avatar of Greed in this manner and the gradual change in his demeanor alarmed them. Despite everyone’s best attempts, Mammon hardly smiled anymore. He just simply didn't seem to enjoy all of the things he once did. They all knew something was wrong but when asked the white haired demon would shrug it off, say he was fine when he very obviously was not. Everything came to a head the night Mammon collapsed, finally falling victim to exhaustion and hunger.

It was after this that Lucifer called the family to a meeting while Arella sat with Mammon in his room as he slept fitfully.

"What do we do, Lucifer?" Asmo seemed distraught with fear. "Our brother is suffering from something and we don't even know where to start in trying to help him."

"We have to get him to talk somehow," Satan quipped, "Perhaps Arella can-"

"If this were any other situation, I would suggest it but right now, I don't think that's a very wise move. If she forces him to talk it could very well damage the bond they share." For the first time in thousands of years, Lucifer didn't know what to do. Whatever was causing this shift in personality was eating away at Mammon. "We'll try to think of a way to fix this- to find out what happened to our dear brother. So let's start at the beginning of all of this. What do we know about what he was doing before this happened?"

"Well, Levi started, "He was getting called up by those witch sisters with more and more frequently. I heard him come home super late- like early morning hours late..."

"And after that is when he practically stopped eating." Beel chimed in.

"And he was having nightmares almost nightly, afterwards." Belphie nodded. "I did my best with my powers to look into them but there were so many mental blocks that he subconsciously put up, I couldn't see or hear anything very well and what I could see didn't make a whole lot of sense. They weren't very clear, but they had something to do with the witches... and I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt associated with them."

"Then obviously something happened while he was with them," Satan said, brow furrowed. "But what that may be, we won't know until he talks."

"Asmo, I see the look on your face." Lucifer called out to the Avatar of Lust. "Is there something, you'd like share with the group?"

Everyone's eyes were locked onto Asmodeus as the demon sat with a contemplative look on his face. He was very slowly starting to piece together what had been going on.

"Not yet, but I may have a hunch." He finally said. "Mammon has a pact with these women, correct?"

Next

Masterlist 2

[sokkas-honour]

dream boy: part 3 - sokka x reader

pairing: sokka x fem!reader

request: part 3 was requested by @missmorosis

wc: 2.7k

notes: i’m terribly sorry if it may seemed a bit rushed or not exactly consistent but i personally liked the way it ended. also this is the final part, i might make an epilogue if i actually finish everything i need to do.

part one | part one 1/2 | part two

sokka wasn’t able to see you until monday, purposefully ignoring all the texts from yours friends, not wanting to know if sokka actually told them what had happened or if he had decided to keep it to himself, either way, you were better off just staying off your phone until school started. you only unlocked your phone to text zuko back and even then you didn't always have the courage to do so.

you had made sure to wake up early in order to not cross paths with the watertribe boy, his sibling or just any of your friends until you absolutely had to, preferring to simply distance yourself from the others. of course you couldn't avoid them forever, you had over half of your classes with at least one of them, two of those being with sokka, the guy who you especially didn't want to see, history and gym. gym would be easy to avoid him in, you had become acquaintances with this lovely girl called jin, whom you also shared your math class with, you could just spend the whole period with her and avoid him. your real problem was going to be history. your teacher, mister kuzon, had informed the class that there would be a group project on any cultural aspect from the water tribe, and he had chosen the groups. the chance of you actually being paired with sokka was miniscule but the universe hadn’t seemed to be going easy on you lately.

and much to your dismay, the universe was in fact against you. when your history teacher’s voice had posted the groups, your heart had started racing as you approached the board to see the pairs, your heart was racing in fear and it dropped when you saw the name y/n next to sokka.

after being asked to sit next to your partner to get started, you stayed silent as you plopped down on the chair next to the boy who you were still trying to avoid, staying silent and keeping your eyes in front of you.

“are you going to work with me or is it going to be a silent treatment the whole time.” he questioned, turning to face you, arm hooked around the back of his chair as he looked at you desperately for any sign of you acknowledging his presence.

“i was thinking we could talk about the differences in the cuisine in the north and south.” you mumbled, chin on your hand as you kept your gaze on the board in front of you, ignoring the boy who was still searching for an answer.

“yeah, sounds good.” sokka sighed, giving up on receiving a straight answer from you. he turned back in his seat, disappointment radiating off of him, making you bite your lip in guilt. you shot him a glance from the corner of your eye as you saw him discreetly take his phone out to open the notes app but before you could see what he was typing he turned to face you, catching you right in the act.

“uh, saturday at your place?” seemed like the only logical way out of the embarrassing situation you had just walked into, still not breaking the staring between the two of you. you felt your heart speed up a bit at the extended eye contact, not having looked into his blue eyes in awhile, the last time being before you stormed out of his house after your confession.

“sounds good.” he offered you a small smile, happy to see that your attempt at a cold shoulder was somewhat backfiring, knowing that you couldn't avoid him forever. he let the stare linger a bit before turning his attention back to his phone and you quickly snapped back to your notes taken during the class. thanking yourself for not letting the stupid smile heat your cheeks up, now all you had to do was finish the class with a not so uncomfortable silence between the two of you.

the bell didn't take too long to ring before you had to move onto your next class which was the one you detested the most, science. courage surged through you as you waved goodbye to sokka, earning a bright smile back from the boy before you dashed out of the class. to anyone, that might have seemed rather pointless that you felt as proud as you did, a wave goodbye was considered an act of politeness, but that had been the first time you had really addressed sokka in any way since the unplanned confession. he had probably realised that as well, giving a reason for the sudden bright smile on his features.

you practically sprinted towards your science classroom, holding your books tightly to your chest to not let them fly out of your grip. you hoped zuko was already there, knowing he’d want to hear the rather big step you’d just taken in repairing your friendship with your childhood friend. you were surprised that the thought of slowly getting over him in order to just be friends had slipped your mind, remembering that this morning you didn't want anything to have to do with him for the rest of your life, wanting to just stay away from him to not ignite anything in you, but you were slowly realising it was ridiculous to throw away the friendship for your unrequited crush. you two may not be as close as before but you could still stay friends, you could still hangout with him without feeling like your heart was shattering every moment you’d meet his beautiful ocean eyes.

“zuko!” you called for him as soon as you spotted the back of his black haired head, whipping his head around to greet you with a grin, happy that you weren't ignoring him like he thought you might, considering your answers to his texts were rather sporadic and vague.

“happy to see you’re alive y/n.” he joked as soon as you caught up with him, both of you walking at the same height as you entered the room, taking a seat next to each other as you always did, even when the two of you werent as close as you were now.

“i think i’m ready to fully start moving on.” you announced, taking a deep breath before letting him know of your future plans, determination in yours eyes and tone as you felt set to move on from your crush.

“really? i'm surprised it didn't take longer.” his eyes grew a bit at your proclamation, not expecting to hear you say those words this early, thinking he’d have to see you distance yourself from everyone for weeks but it only took a day or two, making him slightly septic at how long you would actually last with your new resolution but nonetheless he was proud of you.

“yeah well i’m kind of stuck with sokka for a history project and i figured might as well start moving on from him. i still want to be friends with him.” you explained, taking your science homework out so you were prepared whenever the teacher would come on in.

“i’m proud of you y/n, its very mature of you.” he placed his hand on your shoulder, sincerity in his tone lifting your spirits up at the thought of repairing whatever damage you might’ve caused and the thought of the damage you were avoiding by taking action now instead of later.

saturday rolled around and you had managed to have some sort of small talk with sokka during your classes, still deciding to spend your lunch period with jin instead of your usual friends but it was a start to where you thought you would be saturday after you left. you had stopped eating with your friends a little over a week ago, opting to spend time with the lovely girl from your math class. you had had trouble sleeping friday night, scared of going to sokka’s house and falling back to where you started, back to square one, back in love with a friend who was already taken by a lovely girl.

your feet felt rather heavy as you walked down the familiar path to his house, bag with a your notebook and history course around your shoulder as you retraced the steps you had followed almost everyday during that particular summer, always going to sokka’s house to entertain yourself while school was out.

you first lingered in the air above the door for a couple of seconds, taking a deeo breath in to calm your nerves before you finally knocked. it didnt take long before it was opened, sokka with an eager smile on his lips was who greeted you behind the door.

“finally, you shouldve been here an hour ago!” he lamented jokingly as he moved out of the way to let you in, causing you to roll your eyes at how dramatic your friend was.

“sokka, im five minutes late.” you deadpanned, hastily taking your shoes off, leaning against a nearby wall for support.

“exactly!” he exclaimed, his voice cracking slightly and suddenly you felt as though nothing ever happened, as if your feelings had never come to make you want to change whatever relationship you had with him, simply feeling as though the two of you were just friends.

“really sokka? dont you reme,ber when i waited an hour for you outside in the freezing cold in the woods so we could make a campfire together? or that time where we were late in eight grade because someone accidentally put on ripped pants? or-”

“alright i get it.” he held his hands up in defeat at your inquisitive look, knowing you were only joking around with him to make him feel slightly guilty for all the times he had been late.

“my dad made seaweed noodles for us to eat while we work, hope thats okay.” shoving his hands in his pockets, waiting to see you reaction at the mention of one of your favorite dishes that he’d always insist his father to make you whenever you’d come by.

“no way!” you dashed into the kitchen, leaving sokka by himself at the entrance, surprised at how fast the two of you had seemed to ease back into things and some part of it seemed to good to be true but he was happy to have you back.

“wait for me!” he called for you, spending slightly to join you. a reminiscent smile on his lips as he watched you excitedly poor yourself a bowl, knowing where everything in the hous ewas from it practically being a second home for you during all those years.

“you’ll have to say thank you to hakoda.” you told him as you eyed the noodles, your stomach rumbling as you brought it to the table, it had been too long since you had eaten his father’s cooking.

“y/n, you havent even eaten it yet, how do you know its good?” he laughed as he watched you carefully bring the bowl to the dinner table, trying to get to it as fast as you could but still making sure to not let any of the broth spill out.

“because your dad’s seaweed noodles are the best!” you defended your previous statements, taking a seat as you waited for sokka to make his own bowl and bring chopsticks for the both of you. the watertribe boy nodded, slightly mocking you in his own playful way. while you waited for him to rejoin you, you took out the notebook you used for your history notes and grabbed a pen that was sitting on the table.

you scribbled down the title of your project and tapped your pen, impatient waiting to be able to dig into your steaming hot dish.

“have any ideas for the presentation?” sokka startled you slightly, coming from behind you to lean over your shoulde to see if you had written anything but he was met with a blank page.

“no, now get me my chopsticks idioy.” you shoved his head away, earning a protestful ‘hey’ from him as your brought your hand back to wram themselvbes on the bowl.

“here.” he placed the chopsticks next to the bowl before making his way around the table to sit in front of you, slowly blowing on his soup to cool it down.

“took you long enough.” you teased before you grabbed them to pick up some of the noodles, cooling them off with your breath before shoving some of it into your mouth. sokka started laughing at how quickly you engulfed the noodles that his father had spent the morning making.

you flipped him off, not caring at how ‘unlady like’ you might’ve looked but it had been forever since you had tasted his father’s seaweed noodles, during winter it was a staple food for whenever you would spend the night but since the weather had gotten warmer and you had grown more distant, it had been a hot minute since you had a traditional dish of the southern water tribe, something you’d most definitely use in your comparison of the different cuisines.

“before we start, i wanted to talk to you about something.” sokka brought his hand down, deciding not to eat just yet but rather address the elephant in the room.

“yeah?” you knew where this was going so you finished chewing what was in your mouth and swallowed, keeping your eyes on the food as you wiated for sokka’s question.

“so where do we stand, us? i mean two days ago you stormed off, after weeks of us not actually talking and now it feels like everything is fine. i just want to make sure that you’re okay.” you took a deep breath in, knowing this was coming, knowing you had to confront your feelings upfront now and not just push whatever you were feeling down, hoping it didnt blow over one day.

“if im being honest sokka, i like you, still, but i want us to be friends. im happy to see that suki makes you happy, but it might take some time for me to get over you so we might not ever be as close as before for my own sake but im willing to try my hardest to fix anything i mightve broken in the last couple of weeks. because i love having you as a friend and no matter how much it wouldve hurt to be with you before, i still missed my best friend.” you slowly lifted your head up, pouring out what was your mind without any filter, letting him know where you stood, sincerity written on your features as you wiated to see sokka’s reaction.

“that sounds good, whatever works for you. just happy i dont have to lose my oldest friend” he finally answered after silence settled between the two of you, letting your words settle and let him process your new confession.

you smiled back and then the two of you turned your attention back to the noodles, the two of you practically inhaling the food as the only sound was the muching of the seaweed and the slurping of the soup. a nice moment shared between two friends.

“you know, theres still girl that i just know you’d like.” sokka was the first to speak up, a small tease in his tone as he tried to set you up right after you told him you were trying to move on from him.

“sokka.” you threatened, not wanting him to go down whatever road he was about go down to, you finding it to be the wrong moment to bring this up.

“i’m just saying i have yue’s number if you want it!” he recoiled on his claim, but made sure to name drop the girl he supposedly thought was perfect for you. blood rushed to your cheeks at the mention of his ex girlfriend from middle school, rmebering how beautiful you thought the white haired girl was and how you had a small crush on her while they were dating.

the boy in front of you simply laughed, feeling content at where he now stood with his friend since kindergarten. he was your dream boy, but maybe not in the way you first thought. he was the boy of your dreams but not all dreams need to be romantic.

general taglist: @draqondance @biqherosix @sunnypluto @butterfly-skinnylegend @staygoldsquatchling02 @yuesallura

atla taglist: @welovediaaxx @ilovespideyyy @missmorosis

sokka taglist: @firelady-jay

[collecting-stories]

One - pt. 02 - Rafe Cameron

Summary: Your ex-boyfriend’s wedding day has come and you bring Rafe as your date. 

A/N: Jumping ahead four months with a flash back included cause I can lol. 

One Thing Right Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

△ ▽ △ ▽

The song that was playing in the background of the dinner was slowly in-graining itself in Rafe’s mind. He was positive that he would wake up tomorrow morning with that song ruminating in the back of his brain despite the fact that he hadn’t even given it his full attention. People on either side of him, sans the empty chair that his suit jacket was draped over, were chattering in a lull hum of conversation, all acquaintances of the bride, like you were. 

You were not sitting, instead you were by the ridiculously small table set up at the top of the ballroom, at the edge of the dance floor, with enough flowers draped around it to start an arboretum. You were squatting just enough to chat while staying relatively close to standing and Rafe was watching you as you and the bride talked over something meaningless. She’d called you over and apparently you had to go, as he understood it.  

You weren’t the only thing keeping his attention though. He knew the groom. He hadn’t mentioned it on your first date, or your second, or now, four months later when he spent a ridiculous amount of time at your apartment. He hadn’t mentioned it in case you didn’t remember but he remembered you. He remembered that night at the party and back at his apartment and breakfast the next morning. Rafe could remember every detail of it but, most importantly, he had asked a friend of a friend about you afterward, after you didn’t call him. Out of curiosity he asked and found out you were back with your boyfriend and there he was now, marrying some other woman. He knew this guy, staring at you as you talked to his now bride.

When you stood up fully, shifting the end of your dress where you’d stepped back into it, Rafe sat up a little more. He watched you walk back to the table, smiling at him when you caught him watching you. Being with you now, even after the first date at Menton’s, he had to admit that he was glad you never called him back in college. He was an idiot back than, reminiscent of your ex he imagined, and he would’ve never been what you needed him to.  

“She wanted to know who you were,” you supplied, sliding into the seat that his suit jacket was saving, moving as close to him as two chairs would allow. He couldn’t stop himself from hoping that you would always want to sit that close. You leaned in so no one else at the table could hear you, “I told her I paid for you, does $100 sound like too low of a going rate?”  

The slow smile that overtook his face at your joke was infectious and you smiled back. “100 for an hour?”

“Oh no for the whole night.” You teased, “do you charge extra for after dinner?”  

“I’ll cut you a deal,” he joked, kissing you when you tilted your head back slightly.  

He wasn’t sure if it was because he just wasn’t as immature as he used to be or if it was you but he felt himself paying attention more. Learning all the little movements and expressions you had. He remembered you from college because he’d desperately wanted another chance with you. It was cliché to admit, and he doubted he ever would, but there had been something about you, about that night, that he’d wanted to freeze and live inside of. It panned out that you went back to your boyfriend and Rafe had, up until four months ago, always imagined that it lasted. That the two of you got married young, that you probably had adorable kids running around that were half you and half someone else. That you had everything you wanted in life. He had never let himself consider another possibility and then you were messaging him and you didn’t seem like you remembered and there was no way he was going to screw up a second chance by reminding you.  

-

“How can you not like Boston?” You asked, handing over his cup of coffee as you sat down beside him on the couch. He had texted you earlier in the evening to cancel what would’ve been your fifth date, telling you he was swamped with work and he had to stay in.  

Usually you would have just said that was fine and found anything else to do for the evening but it had been a week since your fourth date and as ridiculous as it sounded you really just wanted to spend time with him, in whatever capacity he had to offer. So you texted him back and asked how ‘mobile’ his office was and offered to make him dinner if he came over.  

Whatever you were feeling seemed to resonate with Rafe too because if it had been anyone else he would’ve written them off as being clingy. But he hadn’t wanted to cancel in the first place and your offer to still have him over was like a gateway. He was already packing up his laptop and files as he texted you back.  

You made spaghetti and salad and a ricotta dip that you’d found on Tasty once and mentioned that you could eat entirely on your own. Dinner was casual, just the two of you hanging out on the couch and eating, talking occasionally when he surfaced from work. He’d dressed nice for the last four dates, all dinners at higher-end restaurants that you couldn’t have afforded on a teaching salary.  

“Can’t believe the first guy you actually go out with on Tinder is fucking rich and you already know he’s great in bed.” Nina had bitched when you had told her about the first four dates. It was her constant complaint, reiterated in different ways each time you talked about Rafe.  

Tonight he looked more like the guy you hooked up with at Duke. He was just in jeans and an old college shirt, and you resisted the urge to tell him that you went there too, and his hair wasn’t styled back like he usually wore it. He just looked comfortable, even more so sitting on your couch working, Fivel having hoped up to lay beside him. Aside from Nina’s husband, who Fivel changed his mind about on a daily basis, your dog had little interaction with men but he seemed perfectly content with Rafe.  

Dinner ended and you prolonged the evening with coffee, bringing you a cup while he lamented about living in Boston. “I know it can be expensive-“

“It’s not that,” Rafe shrugged, taking the mug from your hands and leaning back against the cushions of the pink velvet couch. Was it a bit much, especially with a dog? Sure, but who didn’t want an instagramable apartment. Ian had hated the pink velvet and he told you so when you bought it and everyday until he dumped you. “I hate the weather, beach isn’t the same as down south.”

“I‘ll give you that we’re running out of beach days but, the snow is awesome!” You argued, “plus I get snow days off.”  

“Not all of us are teachers.” Rafe replied, turning his head to the side to look at you. It was probably stupid to still be in awe of you every time you were around and he had to wonder if that was ever going to change but he doubted it. “I still have to work when I’m snowed in.” He watched the way you smiled, leaning into him, careful of his coffee, to kiss him.  

“Yeah but you can get snowed in with me.” You proposed, knowing that the snow was a long way away and exactly what that suggested and maybe he didn’t think that far ahead.  

“I take it back, I think Boston is growing on me.”  

-

The open bar at the wedding was a godsend. Especially when you were busy talking to other people who worked at your school. Rafe had agreed to the weekend upstate with you because it was exactly that, a weekend upstate. You’d taken Friday and Monday off from work and extended the stay which meant extra time for the two of you, existing in this cute, small town bubble where you had no obligations except each other. Bring the dog and Rafe was sure he could live up here with you forever, a scary thought at four months.  

“Hey, do we know each other?” Ian asked, stepping up to the bar next to Rafe, undoing his bow tie and letting it hang around his neck.  

Rafe spared him a side glance as he took a long sip of his whiskey, trying to decide if he really felt like talking to this guy. You still hadn’t mentioned hooking up but you had told Rafe that the groom was your ex, someone he didn’t need any help remembering. He couldn’t blame you really, the circumstances didn’t lend to him being more than an irresponsible fuck boy back then but god was this guy a loser.  

“I don’t think so.” Rafe replied, looking back out over the reception. You were standing near the edge of the dance floor, chatting with the principal and her husband. You waved at him when you caught him looking and he nodded his head to you. He heard Ian say your name and toward him again, “what?”

“You came with-“

“Yeah.”  

“Crazy world man, I used to date her in college.”

“Yeah that’s real crazy.” He replied, pushing his empty glass back across the bar counter and asking for another. He’d need the whole bottle to get through a conversation with Ian.  

“Swear I know you from somewhere else though.” Ian said, squinting as if that would help, “did you go to Duke?”  

Yeah.”

“No fucking way, that’s crazy man!”

“It’s all crazy.” Rafe said, rolling his eyes. God he hoped this guy was drunk.  

“Did we have class together or something?”  

You caught Rafe’s eye again, waving your hand from him to come over. You’d moved on from talking and there weren’t too many other people around that you knew. Standing around awkwardly was exactly what you didn’t want. Rafe downed the rest of his second glass, leaving it on the counter as he turned to Ian, “no but I did fuck your girlfriend.” He said before walking off.  

Ian’s eyes went wide, trying to work out exactly what Rafe was saying as he watched him walk over to you. Like some kind of alcohol induced time warp Ian felt himself spiral back to the morning the two of you had gotten back together. That was it, he was the guy in the car that dropped you off. He remembered watching you kiss him in the parking lot, the same way you kissed him now.  

“Fuck.” Ian mumbled, tapping the bar, “can I get a whiskey?”  

The bartender poured him a whiskey, same as Rafe’s, and he kicked it back, coughing unexpectedly when the warm liquid hit his throat.

You wrapped your arms around Rafe’s neck as he came up to you, kissing him, “how long do you think the bridesmaids have to stay at the wedding?” You asked, leaning your whole body against him.  

“As much as I’d love to leave I think it’s pretty standard to stick around until after the cake has been cut.” He replied, hands slipping beneath the suit jacket you’d stolen from him and taken to wearing. Your dress was cut low in the back and he brushed his fingers across your bare skin. Watching the way your eyes fluttered closed for a moment at the feeling had him kissing you again. “When is the cake again?”

“Soon,” you promised, “then you and me can split…think they’d notice me lifting a bottle of champagne.”

“Not if you time it right.”  

“Okay, I’m getting a drink and then I’m making you dance cause I didn’t take my shoes off for nothing,” you announced, pulling away from him. You made your way over to the bar, eager for something that wasn’t just the wine you’d gotten with dinner. Your grad partner claimed they had signature drinks and she was apparently telling the truth as you saw the paper on display advertising an Ian and an Anya. “What’s in the Anya?” You chanced asking when you realised the writing beneath the drink name was just some bullshit about how sweet she was.  

“It’s just a pink margarita.” The bartender replied, “it’s…really sweet.”  

“Can I just get an old fashioned?”  

“Hey.”

You turned to the side, pulling Rafe’s jacket closer and looking at Ian. He had apparently not left the bar area, letting Anya get in some dancing with her friends while he hung back and drank. You had seen him enough through the wedding prep, it was unavoidable, but you hadn’t really talked to him at all.  

“Hey Ian, weddings really beautiful.” You mentioned, taking your drink and dropping a tip in the jar for the bartender.  

“Met your new boyfriend.”

“Rafe?” You asked, searching for him. He’d either snuck out of the reception room or Anya had nabbed him for the fifth time that day to talk to him. She apparently thought he was great, something she’d mentioned multiple times since she had met him last month when he dropped by the school on a half day to meet you for lunch.  

“Yeah, he went to school with us, didn’t he?”  

“I guess Ian,” you shrugged.  

“He said he did.”  

“Wait…he said that…the three of us went to school together?” You asked, all your attention on your ex. Rafe knew? If he knew you went to Duke then he had to know.

“Yeah. Said something else to.” Ian replied.  

“What?”  

“He said you and him slept together. I knew you hooked up with someone when we broke up.” Ian said, leaning closer so no one heard him.  

“I have to go.” You insisted, stopping to look back at him for a moment, “and yeah, I totally did.”

You left the reception, ignoring the DJ calling for the cake cutting to happen, leaving your heels on the seat of your table, your mind on one thing only. He knew. Rafe had seen Ian approach you at the bar and had hightailed it out of the reception, knowing that he would spill to you and knowing, even more than that, you’d think he was a creep for never saying anything.

He headed back up to the room, impeded only when he realised that the key was in his jacket which was on you. He leaned against the wall opposite door, pressing his hands to his face, trying to think of a solution. There was always asking the desk to open the door but his whole wallet was in his jacket, there was no way of proving who he was and unless this place had the worst precautions ever they weren’t gonna let a guy in a hotel room cause he said it was his.  

“Rafe!” Your voice carried down the hall and he stood up straight. There was no avoiding it now. You’d tell him how fucking weird he was for not telling you that he had slept with you in college. He sounded so fucking awful.  

“Look-“

“You knew!” You exclaimed, the one thought you’d had the entire way back to the room coming out. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Wait, wait, what’re we talking about?” Rafe asked, mildly confused. Had Ian told you? Did you know? You didn’t seem mad.  

“That…you know…we had sex,” you said, lowering your voice despite being in an empty hallway. “Right before spring break.”  

His expression changed from one of absolute paranoia to a smug grin, realizing that your shock wasn’t in him knowing and not telling you but in him knowing too. “You knew.”  

“Yeah,” you admitted, “but for real, it was Nina that found you on Tinder.”  

“Can’t believe you lied to me.” He replied, laughing when you smacked his arm.  

“I didn’t lie…and…you knew too!” You said, “wait, what did you say to Ian.”  

Rafe shrugged, “he was pissing me off, so I told him we’d fucked before.”  

You couldn’t help smiling, leaning into him and tilting your head back slightly for a kiss which he gave you willingly. “Why are we outside?”  

“You have both keys.” He replied, slipping his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulling out his wallet. “Guess we missed cake.”  

“That’s okay, I didn’t care about the cake anyway,” you admitted, keeping your arms around his waist as he swiped the card, twisting the knob on the door and opening it.  

Aside from getting coffee in the mornings and just going on a general walk around the small town where the wedding was happening, you and Rafe had spent most of your time in the hotel room. He’d put work on hold for the long weekend too, meaning neither of you had responsibilities, especially now that the wedding was over.  

“We should order better cake and some kind of alcohol up to the room.” You suggested, tossing his jacket over the chair and heading into the bathroom to take off your makeup.  

Rafe sat on the end of the bed, watching your reflection in the mirror on the closet door across from the bathroom. He hadn’t even bothered taking off his shoes, his entire attention focused on you as you slipped out of your dress, disappearing behind the door for a split second to hang it off a hook, pulling Rafe’s gray t-shirt off the same hook and putting it on.  

“I can’t believe you never told me,” you repeated as you stepped into the room, “like I keep thinking about it and I’m like...we would’ve grown old and died not knowing.”

“I definitely would’ve told you before we died,” Rafe promised as you walked over to him, stepping between his legs. He rested his hands on your hips pushing the shirt up just slightly. “You want cake then?”

You scrunched your nose, thinking for a moment whether you truly cared about the cake or not. In all honesty you wanted the exact same thing now that you had since this morning when your alarm went off, which was you and Rafe, in bed, undisturbed. “Raincheck on the cake?”

“Sure.”  

“Since we’re on the subject-”  

“Of cake?” He asked, cutting you off.  

“No.”

“Oh, the other thing.” He replied, drawing it out as if he was truly just realizing what you were talking about.  

You stuck your tongue out at him, “yes the ‘other thing’. Sorry I never called you.”  

“Honestly,” he admitted, “this is better.”  

You couldn’t be sure where either of you would have been if you had never gotten back together with Ian and had called Rafe back. Maybe you would be married, maybe you’d have broken up and it would be him marrying Anya. A truly terrifying thought. One you might’ve lingered on longer if you let yourself. But instead you did exactly what you’d been doing for the last few hours, focusing all your attention on Rafe and shutting out everything else.  

-

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[lost-inthedream]

SF9 as types of stalkers

Note: I know that real stalkers are not cool or funny, but let’s be soft at least once.

Imagine the following scenes as a college AU

This is pure fluff with some crack (if I really am funny)

➹ Youngbin:

The stalker who you do not know you have, he is cautious to not scare you. You must have seen him two or three times but you do not suspect about his real plans because he looks a cute and inoffensive guy. In fact, you only spot him when he wants you to. The guy gets what he wants in sunny day outside the building, when he helps you by handing back your wallet, which had left on a bench under a blooming tree. He runs after you, so you see that your belong is in his hands. “Oh, thank you. I guess your face is familiar.” You say in admiration. He acts (a bit unnaturally) like he has not ever seen you before , but asks you for an ice cream after class anyway.

➹ Inseong:

He is that cute weirdo who shows up almost everywhere. He has bumped onto you so many times and provoked different reactions on you. Sometimes he annoys you, but the way he tries to apologize and explain himself every time is actually funny. He draws precious smiles from you and it makes your heart flutters. One day you just openly ask him if he stalks you or something. You think it would be a joke but he chokes on his coke and you have to tap him on the back. “Oh my God! I’m so obvious.” He laments after regaining some air. You burst into laughter finding him the funniest dude in the world.

➹ Jaeyoon:

The stalker who you fall in love with. I mean you start to see him everywhere in the campus and even though you do not really believe in destiny, the high number of “casual” meets with him gets you wondering. It is not that he wants to be noticed by you, but he does not turn the whole thing into a secret mission. You constantly leave home asking yourself whether you are going to see the hot guy again. He makes you glad, so you end up smiling at him. You start talking during your coincidental meeting, you think, until you stop charging everything to the universe responsibility and set your fist date.

➹ Dawon:

The open stalker. You know he stalks you and he knows that you know. You bicker each other doing faces in the distance, but you actually likes him and do not find him a bad person at all. Your favorite place to meet is in the library when you can look him over your book and sometimes watch while he is focused in reading or taking some notes. Sooner or later both of you would be sitting at the same table and talking through messages scratched on your notebooks sheets. You even find his number in a blue folded sheet inside of your bag and wonders how he managed to put it there.

➹ Rowoon:

The confuse stalker. He likes you and wants to see you everyday but he struggles between going all the way and getting closer or keeping to observe you in the distance. He knows that once he approaches you, he will not be able to look at the way you laugh beside your friends with the same liberty he own, since you would eeasily find out about his crush. Unexpectedly you do know he has a big crush on you because the whole college looks at him and you are not excluded. Every time you look directly to him, he looks away or leaves the place. Go get your boy at once!!

➹ Zuho:

Your cute stalker. You never see him (I mean, you actually see but you didn’t know it is him). However he makes his presence be noticed by the mystery flowers he sends you from time to time through random students. You keep them inside books and tell your friends about him. He makes you happy but also extremely curious. After a month, you wonder about the perfect message to adress him the next time someone approaches you with a new flower. And guess what? After you handed your own message to the delivery guy, he just reveals the most pure smile and says “Y/N, this is me this time"

➹Yoo Taeyang:

He is the shiest stalker in the world. He has already decided that he will not talk to you ever, but he cannot stop himself from searching for you in the campus, to just stay there admiring the way you sit and eat your snacks alone sometimes. His friends know about this habit of him because they once caught him doing so and he almost fell deceased on the floor when they offered to ask you to eat lunch with him. One day you get found by one of his friends instead (probably Sanghyuk) and he explains you the entire situation, making you swear to God that you will not tell Taeyang about what he did. Whether you are going to talk to your handsome admirer of not, it is up to you.

➹ Hwiyoung

A dramatic stalker. You do not even imagine, but someone suffers for you and writes love letters that you are never going to receive. “To All the Boys I've Loved Before” vibes, I know, except by the fact that he gathers the courage to talk to you (after almost a year). Despite his desperate feelings, he manages to act normal around you and you become friends for real. To the point that you visit his house and discovers a picture of you inside this book he takes from the bookshelf. It is a pretty picture, to be honest, but it used to be your profile Instagram picture one year ago, what gets you suspecting.

➹Chani:

He stalks you but does not assume he is doing so. I mean he does not associate his acts to the concept of stalking. To name it, he is a stalker in denial, because he is completely sure that you are not more than a pretty girl that he likes to look at. So he just try to be at the same places as you, where he can work on his things while you are there easily reached by his sight. This dude will eventually get noticed by you, which leads the whole situation evolution into you staring at him in suspection.  Not gonna lie, he gets annoyed by you but it is exactly what wakes him up to his real feelings.

[elai-okonma]

Chapter 5. LDLHAIBCSYWA

PLEASE READ!! IT GETS DARK IN THIS CHAPTER SO PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS;

SUICIDE, DEATH, EATING DISORDER, DEPRESSION, HEARTBREAK, ETC.

Here is chapter 5! I hope you guys enjoy it <3

Word count: 1,339

 Devildom 

   It's been a few weeks since your passing. The brothers visit your grave everyday, some visit multiple times a day. Satan was still gone and Levi was still in his game. Both of them only coming out for your wake. Your tombstone was always full of flowers and other offerings.  

                Here lies our Hell Star

  May 24th, 1996- September 2nd, 2020

             She will be forever loved

   Lucifer threw himself into paperwork so he wouldn't have time to think about his lost love. Mammon has attempted suicide a few times now, to no avail. Asmodeus looked so bad that you wouldn't even be able to tell it was him. Leviathan hadn't left his room or game except to go to the funeral service. Beelzebub still hadn't eaten, leaving the void in his stomach to consume him. 

   Lord Diavolo and Barbatos both kept their distance from the brothers, they were also trying to deal with their feelings so it was better this way. 

   Mammon shuffles around the House of Lamentation, no light in those blue and gold eyes anymore. He goes to your room to lay on your bed and finds someone already there. As he comes around he sees its Beel, surprisingly his stomach didn't give him away.  

   Mammon speaks gently, "Hey you..." 

   Beelzebub looks up at his brother, teary eyed. 

   "Do ya mind if I lay with you..."

   Beelzebub nods and scoots over. 

   There's a long silence before Beel speaks up: 

   "I miss her so much, Mammon...I can't function without her... There's no meaning to life without her..."

 Mammon starts crying, he knows the feeling too fucking well. After all, how many times has he tried to kill himself now?? 

   "I know Beel... Trust me, I know..." The smaller Demon reaches out to hold his brother as he cries out. 

   Who knows how much time had passed before they heard the door open. It was Lucifer. He stepped into the room without a word and walked up to the bed, the two Demons watching their brother. 

   "Beel I need you to eat, please...this isn't what MC would have wanted. And Mammon, I know you've been trying to kill yourself..." 

   Tears prickling his eyes he chokes out: 

  "...please stop...losing MC was more than enough, I can't lose you too..."

   Beelz looks at Mammon now, he didn't know about his brothers suicide attempts, and it breaks his heart to hear. 

   "I just want the pain to STOP!" Mammon roars. "My human didn't deserve any of that!" 

   Lucifer sat down on the bed, trying so desperately to ignore the fact that the sheets still smelled like you. Beelz speaks up now, staring up at the ceiling. 

   "Mammon, if I eat something will you please stop..."

   His words take them both by surprise. 

   "...yes.." 

   That was that, Beelzebub shot up and headed for the kitchen leaving his brothers behind. Mammon looked to Lucifer, and noticed the bags under his eyes. It hurt him knowing that his older brother probably hadn't slept since MC passed away, which would mean Lucifer hadn't slept in WEEKS. 

   "How do I deal with these feelings, Luci??" 

   Mammon had mumbled it so softly that had it not been for the deafening silence of the room, Lucifer would've missed it. 

   "I wish I knew...When we fell it was painful, when we lost Lilith it was devastating, but this?? This is new to me, and I wish I knew how to cope but I just don't..." Lucifer was crying now, one hand pinching the bridge of his nose, the other gripping the bed sheets. He was trying to breathe but fuck, this pain, it was too much. It was suffocating, and he was drowning. 

   Mammon sits up to move by his brothers side. He takes him in his arms and also starts to cry. These feelings were so overwhelming, and they both knew they were going to need to figure something out, to help the others. 

____________________________________________

   In the kitchen, Beelzebub opens the fridge with hands shaking from starvation and anticipation. He hasn't eaten in weeks and he doesn't want to over-do it. He takes out a fried goblin leg and smells it. The noises his stomach were making was nothing compared to the feral growl that left his lips. Salivating like a wild beast, he takes a bite of the leg and instantly starts weeping at all the emotions he's experiencing. 

   It was then that Asmo walked in, hair messy and out grown. He hadn't been keeping up his appearances, and it definitely showed. And when he walked in and saw Beel actually eating, he couldn't help but start balling at the sight. He was ugly crying and he didn't care. His brother was EATING! 

   Beelz eyes widened at the sight of his brother who was once so beautiful, but now looked like a train wreck. Not only was his hair unkempt, his skin was dried out and cracked, he had bags under his eyes, and he wasn't even dressed like himself. Just wearing bland sweats and a hoodie, Beelzebub didn't even know Asmo owned something so plain and raggedy. It broke his heart so bad he had stopped mid chew. 

   "No, please! Please don't stop eating on my account. What made you start eating again?!" 

   Beelzebub told Asmo about what Luci had said about Mammon. And then, in some weird chain reaction, Asmo ran up to his room. He started taking out all his skin products and digging out all his nicest clothes. Beelzebub showed up at his door a few moments later to see why his brother just took off the way he did. Munching on something else he had found in the fridge, he asked Asmodeus what he was doing. 

   "I REFUSE to lose another god damned person! I'll start taking care of myself if it means saving Mammon so please, please tell him to stop! Tell him I'll try ok!" Asmo says between pulling out every single beauty product he owned. He was pulling shit out of drawers like a madman.

   Beelz nods and walks away. I'll tell Levi what's happening as well, he thinks to himself. He makes his way to Levi's room and let's himself in. The room was dark and dank, the only light source coming from his computer monitors. He doesn't know how to go inside the game that Levi was in so he wrote him a note, explaining what was going on. When he was done writing the note, he placed one of Leviathan's Ruri-chan figurines on top of it, that way he would notice it was out of place and (hopefully) see the note underneath it. 

   I wish I knew where Satan was, I hope he's ok. He thinks to himself.  

  As the Avatar of Gluttony makes his way back to MC's room, he decides to stop by and get something else to eat. When he walks into your room, he sees Lucifer and Mammon hugging each other, and it makes his heart smile. He tells them what happened with Asmo and Levi, looking past their small smiles at the sight of him eating. Lucifer stands up and says he's going to try to find Satan, so that he could also know what was happening. He gave his brothers quick hugs then left the room. 

   Beelzebub pulls Mammon into a tight hug and says: 

   "We're all going to try hard for you, so please no more suicide attempts, ok?? MC would be even more heart broken than us, if she found out her number 1 guy was doing this...if you can't do it for us, at least do it for her." 

   Mammon hugs his brother back just as tight. 

  "Ok. I'll do it for you guys, and for MC..." Mammon takes a deep breath and continues, "...ya smell like fried goblin leg, bro." He bursts out in a shallow laugh and Beelz joined him. 

_____________________________________________

    Back in his study, Lucifer starts his search for Satan, and he hopes he can reach him before it's too late. Lord only knows what's become of the Avatar of Wrath. 

[rukakikuchi]

LOONA theory - Heejin isn’t God of the LOONAverse; she was a fallen angel

One of the most popular theories regarding the LOONAverse is that Heejin is the God and created not only the LOONAverse, but the other girls as her angels. While this is an intriguing idea, since she is the first member of LOONA and her video “ViViD” essentially marks the start of the LOONAverse and their story, I don’t think Heejin is a God.

I mean, would an all-powerful God want to turn themselves into a high school girl and get stuck in an infinite time loop curse?

Okay okay, joking aside, while I found the idea interesting, I personally just see Heejin as a normal girl. However, I have recently been considering a new idea in regards to who Heejin really is.

In my theory about ViVi, I mentioned that her representative color was pastel rose, a shade of pink and an irregular color. Well, Heejin’s representative color is also a shade of pink; bright pink. And we’ve previously tied the colors of the girls to which world they might have originated from. So this got me thinking…

Was Heejin originally from Eden? Or perhaps even Heaven?

Heejin’s story

So we’ve already talked about Heejin’s story in “ViViD” in the context of her character in the LOONAverse, as well as through dream analysis, but now let’s look at it and see what clues we can find to Heejin potentially being from Eden.

We see Heejin working as a servant or housekeeper for a woman in black (played also by Heejin) lamenting her boring, repetitive days and wishing for a life filled with vibrant colors and excitement.

The woman she works for is clearly wealthy from what we can see of the music video. From the colorful mansion to the fancy clothes, there’s an overall feel of elegance and wealth to it. 

And as we know, Eden is meant to be a perfect world, though that “perfection” comes at the cost of personal freedom. And Heejin isn’t happy with the life she’s living. She’s bored of doing the same thing over and over; she wants something new, something different, something that excites her.

She says in her lyrics, “I wish for a new day each day I wake up, I don’t want to become numb towards myself without the light.”

This could’ve led her to the decision to leave Eden. I mentioned before that in the final shot of “ViViD”, she looks out the window as if she senses something. Maybe she felt something calling to her, or a strong desire to go to Earth.

Either way, she finally decided she had enough of her monotonous life in Eden and escaped. But, like we discussed with ViVi if she was originally from Eden, Heejin left without eating a forbidden fruit.

She didn’t become an android, but I think she could’ve lost her memories of Eden completely by the time she arrived on Earth. Or, perhaps like with ViVi’s memories, they were simply altered.

Another “ViViD” story

It’s interesting that Heejin has two versions of her solo song; the original jazzy “ViViD”, and the more laidback acoustic remix.

She didn’t get a second solo song like Kim Lip or Yves, which would’ve continued the pattern of the first member of each subunit getting two solo songs. They specifically gave her two different versions of the same song, similar to ViVi’s solo with “Everyday I Love You” and “Everyday I Need You.”

In fact, the two music videos we got for both versions seem to serve the same purpose as ViVi’s. “Everyday I Love You” showed us a restored though slightly warped version of ViVi’s human memories, while “Everyday I Need You” focused on ViVi in Hong Kong in what we can assume is the present day.

Now what about “ViViD”? Well, while the music video for the original version shows Heejin dreaming of a more exciting, colorful life in luxury, the video for the acoustic mix shows us Heejin on Earth, in Paris.

The footage was actually shot during the photoshoots for Heejin’s single, and most of the sets show Heejin in a gorgeously lavish mansion, wearing fancy clothes and jewelry. 

Moreover, she’s clearly happier, and more free.

Interestingly enough, they actually include a few clips that clearly show the photoshoot going on, with the staff visible, and Heejin talking to the camera. Several of these clips were even used in LOONA TV.

Now, outside the context of the LOONAverse, it’s a cute little montage of behind-the-scenes footage from Heejin’s Paris photoshoot. But what does it mean *within* the context of the LOONAverse?

Are we to assume that the real Jeon Heejin’s life as an idol is at least somewhat shared with her fictional counterpart in the LOONAverse? I wouldn’t say it’d be completely out of the question. After all, in Cinema Theory, there was a special clip called “ViVi’s Letter to Hong Kong” which showed the girls living their lives as idols but also contributed to the lore simultaneously (namely the ending shot of Jinsoul in her outfit from SCL).

It could be possible that Heejin becoming an idol would help her find the other members to gather LOONA, and they use their music to spread their message to other “LOONAs” in order to help them break out of the loop.

Moreover, there’s a shot that shows Heejin on a merry-go-round, perhaps representing her being stuck in the loop.

I also just generally find it intriguing that Heejin’s photoshoot have her in such fancy settings and dresses. Maybe this Heejin’s life is wealthy and luxurious, similar to the life she dreamed of having in Eden, but because she didn’t have the other members around, she could feel deep down that something was missing.

Heejin’s connection to Olivia

It’s been made clear to us that there is a connection between Heejin and Olivia. They’re the first girl and last girl to debut respectively. One girl not only has bright pink as her representative color, but wishes for her life to be full of vivid colors like a rainbow, while the other has silver or black as her representative color. They are day and night, the beginning and the end.

If Heejin was originally from Eden, it would make sense that they’d know each other, just like ViVi’s connection with Yves.

In fact, if you watch the Cinema Theory teaser, Heejin is the only one shot in black and white, holding a black bunny instead of a white one like in her solo video. 

Olivia was just shown as a silhouette, because she hadn’t been revealed yet, but why would they have Heejin, the girl associated with bright vibrant colors like pink, be shown in black and white?

Could it be representing when she was in Eden, and how she saw her life as lacking color? Or maybe it’s her shadow/dreamworld counterpart, something we’ve associated with being shown in black and white in the past. That could also explain why her rabbit is black instead of white; because things become reversed on the flipped side of the Moebius strip.

Okay, now that we’ve discussed one possibility, I’d like to discuss another possibility for Heejin’s true identity.

Heejin, the fallen angel

I’ve already talked about how I believe that the true God of the LOONAverse is a Goddess named “LOONA” and each girl might represent some aspect of her.

Well, I think Heejin might’ve actually been an angel who served under the Goddess, possibly even helping her create the LOONAverse. Like I said earlier, she was seen in “ViViD” as a servant, tasked by her master (who I have also theorized could be the Goddess taking human form to watch over Heejin) to clean the mansion.

Heejin might’ve been in charge of keeping the LOONAverse stable. But remember, Heejin is ambitious, a dreamer, and gets bored easily.

She might goof off every now and then instead of doing her job. She might dream up her own ideas of what she’d want to have in the LOONAverse. And that hubris might’ve gotten the better of her.

There have been a couple of hints that the story of Icarus plays some part in the LOONAverse. We see it referenced in Yves’ solo song... 

And there was also a painting of “the fall of Icarus” depicted in the mansion where yyxy taped their videos.

What if Heejin caused the LOONAverse to become unstable? Maybe she tried to add something into the LOONAverse to make it more exciting, more full of vibrant color, like she would want. However, whatever she did made the world unstable.

I’ve seen a theory that Heejin might’ve been the one to cause the loop the girls are trapped in, and if that were the case, maybe the LOONAverse becoming a Moebius strip was a result of that instability.

Regardless whether or not she did, she might’ve tried to undo her mistake, or even flew down from Heaven in order to try and stop the instability from getting worse.

Eventually, Heejin got caught up in that instability, drowned in the colors as they spread out of control, like we see in the music video. The Goddess likely undid what happened, as we see the colors fading by the end of the video, but it doesn’t completely get rid of the instability. The LOONAverse is now stuck in a Moebius loop, and Heejin is turned into a human girl without her memories as an angel.

It’s also possible that the instability and time loop curse might’ve been caused by an outside force. Pandora’s Box is mentioned in Kim Lip’s solo.

I even wrote a short story based on the LOONAverse where I portrayed the girls as angels, and that chaos was unleashed onto the world after a devil was released from a box. (Read here.)

Whatever the case may be, if Heejin was in fact an angel, she might’ve fallen from Heaven because of her ambition getting the best of her, and tried to save her friends and the world her Goddess made, only to become trapped on Earth as a result.

Hope you guys enjoyed this theory! Let me know your thoughts as well!

Until then, stan LOONA!

[silverfootstepswrites]

Amaryllis | Chapter 10

< Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11>

+++

"GENERAL! GENERAL, I WAS WRONG! PLEASE FORGIVE ME!" the soldier sobbed into the dirt. His wrists were bound together and stretched in front of him. Kneeling in the dirt with his forehead pressed to the ground, he wept pitifully. They were the tears of a boy, mixing into mud on his face.

His comrades had been too shocked to react before the sword descended. He had it the worst. He knew what was coming. And he screamed his pleas for mercy without shame.

Then again, what was the point of shame in the face of death?

A crowd had gathered in the square. Some held handkerchiefs to their mouths. Others clutched each other. But no one’s eyes turned away as Sakura lifted the executioner’s blade. Heavier than the average sword.

"General. Please," whispered Kiba as he took a step toward her. Shikamaru stood a ways off, hands in his pockets as he refused to have anything to do with the grisly affair. The pool of blood gathering under one of the executed men began to spread, making its way toward the toe of her scuffed boot. Shino stepped forward, mouth hard as he approached. Kiba and Sakura stared at him, waiting for his words to fall.

Shino raised his right foot and placed it on the soldier's back. With one shove, he mashed the soldier's face into the ground, muffling his screams.

"General, please," said Shino. He mirrored Kiba's words but meant the opposite.

Sakura wiped her blade clean against her thigh, staining her white pants a deep red that was almost black. Eyes hardening, she raised her sword high. When it lowered, there was a sickening thud and the muffled shouting came to an end.

+++

Sakura's eyes flew open. They were already wet. She rolled onto the other side of the bed that wasn't damp with sweat. And though she tried to squeeze her eyes shut and sleep again, the image of her sword slicing through tender necks was burned into the insides of her eyelids.

She wanted to call for Shizune. So that the older woman would tell her that everything would be alright. But Shizune was tired after a long day’s work. That wouldn’t be fair to her. Sakura struggled, in her sleep-addled mind, to remember what to do, then.

Sometimes, on nights like these, Sasori showed up like a miracle, as if he could read her mind. But, Sakura reluctantly remembered, that her cousin was not, in fact, telepathic. He was simply extraordinarily attentive and lucky. And the empty creak of her apartment made it clear that tonight was not such a lucky night.

No, on the nights when Sasori slept peacefully in his bed and the night seemed too calm to disturb with her ugly flashes of memory, Sakura slipped from her bed and its silken sheets. She went out, dressed only in her nightgown and a light robe tied over it.

Feet bare and face empty, she ran to the stables where all the horses slumbered with their heads down. At her approach, Kaze's ears twitched. She whispered his name. The one she had given to him when he had just barely learned to stand. His silvery head appeared over the top of the door, his dark eyes already searching for her.

She opened up the door to his stall and Kaze waited for her to gather the saddle and the reins. But she slipped inside and mounted him bareback.

It had been a long time since she had done so.

Her bare thighs rested on his back. Leaning forward, she wrapped her arms around Kaze's neck and closed her eyes.

"Just go. Anywhere,” she whispered into his ear. Kaze hesitated for only an instant before he snorted and took off. Eyes drying, Sakura lay against the stallion's neck and silently felt the wind whip over the back of her neck and over her legs. She could hear the crash of ocean waves and smell the salt in the air. And as she listened to the hard clatter of his gallop quiet, she knew that they were now running along the beach. The soft sand sprayed against the bottoms of her feet.

Kaze ran long laps up and down the shore. His breaths were steady huffs as he dutifully went back and forth. He could feel her distress in her strained voice, in the tightness of her muscles and the way she clung so tightly to him. When he tossed his head, she responded by patting his neck

Eventually, Kaze stopped running, he stood in the sand. And Sakura stayed motionless on his back, finally having fallen asleep. Kaze stayed that way until dawn, occasionally pacing over and bending his head to graze on tiny tufts of grass. When he let out a wheeze and gently shook her awake with a toss of his head, the sun was climbing over the horizon.

"I had another dream, Kaze," she murmured on the edge of waking up. Kaze made a noise that sounded inquisitive to her.

"I can't remember what it was about. But I think it was a happy dream," she sighed.

That was a partial lie. She knew that she had dreamt of happier times- of days running from private tutors and of nights spent staring up at stars and being amazed that her mother seemed to know the names and the shapes of all the stars and constellations.

Sakura watched the sun rising over the east side of the island before she gently urged Kaze forward with a click of her tongue.

She returned home, where Shizune, finding her bed empty, had roused the servants and guards in a flustered search for her. But Kaze rode up slowly and everyone saw the droop of Sakura's shoulders and her tangle of hair. Questions died on lips. It had been another sleepless night for Her Grace.

As everyone kept his or her distance, only Shizune stepped forward. And after a moment, Haku pushed his way out of the cluster of kitchen girls. Together they pulled Sakura off of the horse's back and sent the steed off with one of the stable hands.

"Perhaps a bath and then some tea, My Lady?" suggested Shizune in a warm voice. Haku stood holding Sakura's hand, unsure of whether to help her move or to simply stand there. But Sakura's distant gaze slowly focused, as if she was just then returning from a long journey. And then she squeezed his hand in return.

"Perhaps," Sakura agreed. She pulled her fingers through her hair. Winced as they caught.

It was like watching dye seep into silk. The transformation was quiet yet swift.

Her back straightened. Her mouth quirked into a half-smile. And she quickly returned to the pillar of composure that everyone remembered.

The sadness lingered in her eyes, softening her gaze as she glanced down at Haku.

“Shall we go?” she suggested.

“… Yes, Your Grace,” Haku answered, finding a smile for her.

+++

Two weeks after Sakura returned home to Plumeria, Gaara stood, staring at her apartment from afar. It was early in the morning and he had just finished his breakfast with Temari and Kankuro. The weight of fresh fruits and tea in his stomach did little to settle the knot of worry twisting around.

It didn't seem like it, but Gaara knew, generally, where Sakura was at any given time.

She rose at sunrise, rode her horse along the beach for about an hour, washed and had breakfast, and then usually sat in her throne room to see to the day's questions and complaints from her people. There was lunch in one of the pavilions, sometimes a late morning swim before, and then she headed into the market or spent the afternoon meeting with officials and advisors. At night, her schedule was much less rigid. It was a bit harder to find her then. And even then, he usually knew where to begin his search.

There were some days where breakfast ran long as she lingered over tea with Sasori or when an urgent messenger cut her morning ride short. But in general, Sakura's time as a soldier bled into her everyday schedule. It was all about order.

However, ever since coming home, Sakura had not come to reclaim her place in the throne room once. Gaara waited each morning for her to walk in and seat herself in the high-backed chair as if she had never left it in the first place. But she did not appear and only then, with reluctance, did Gaara seat himself.

Gaara jolted out of his thoughts when he felt a hand clap down on his shoulder.

"She will return when she’s ready," Kankuro assured him, shaking his younger brother a little. Gaara let out a sigh.

"I wish she would tell us what was wrong. She only ever tells Sasori everything," lamented Gaara.

"To be fair, little brother, I don't think even Sasori knows everything. Lady Sakura tells him the most, I think. But probably not everything," replied Kankuro. They both turned as they heard another set of footsteps join them. Gaara gave a small smile to his sister who ruffled his hair in return.

"Does she not trust us? Have we done something to prove unworthy?" wondered Gaara with guilt in his voice. But Temari's own smile faded as she shook her head.

"I just think Lady Sakura prefers not to make herself vulnerable. Think of how lonely an existence that must be, not to trust the people around you. Even her own family has stabbed her in the back," Temari said. And all three siblings knew that she was not referring to their side of the family tree.

"I think," added Temari in a softer voice, "that Lady Sakura's wounds run deeper than anyone else's. Once you've been scarred like that, I think it's difficult to ever know who to trust again."

A contemplative silence settled over them after that. Letting out a long sigh, Kankuro clapped Gaara on the shoulder once more before he released him. He gave a parting salute to Temari before he walked off with his hands crossed behind him. Further down the walkway, they spotted a man in tan robes waiting for him. Gaara's eyes met the man's and he quickly turned away, cheeks flushing red with what he couldn't decide was either shame or anger.

"Go talk to her, little brother. Lady Sakura has always had a soft spot for you," Temari advised him before she too parted with him.

Gaara stood thinking for another moment before he let out a sigh and decided to head for the duchess' apartment.

It was around the time that she would be finishing her breakfast. It was the least bothersome time to interrupt her.

As Gaara rounded the bend in the path, he began to hear her voice. It was a familiar sound. Sometimes it was soft. Other times she barked orders with the strength of a soldier. And the soft flow of her anger was the most frightening of all- like magma slowly encroaching down the face of a mountain. They were all ranges of Lady Sakura's voice and Gaara had grown to regard them all with an equal measure of relief and fear.

But this laughter was something new to him. There was a softer lilt to it, an undercurrent of something that Gaara couldn't recognize. And as he drew closer and saw past the other buildings in the palace, he understood why.

"I don't suppose any of your books can answer that question," teased Sakura.

“Fascinating. It really does taste like a berry,” Itachi responded.

“There are other varieties on the island. I can have some brought over for you to sample,” Sakura went on. As she lifted her cup to her lips, Itachi scribbled a few notes in his journal.

“I remember once, when I was a child, my cousin Shisui snuck down to the market. A merchant there claimed to be selling pearls from the ocean. So Shisui bought one to show me. Imagine our surprise when we dropped it in water and it disappeared,” Itachi recalled.

Sakura laughed. “Sugar?” she guessed.

“Sugar,” he confirmed with a grim expression. “It was the most delicious disappointment I’ve ever experienced.” And his expression was so downcast that Sakura couldn’t help but laugh even harder. Itachi chuckled too.

In the midst of this, Gaara slowly approached. Unsure of when or how to insert himself into the conversation without being rude. Sakura caught sight of him as she tilted her head to the side.

“Ah, Gaara, have you eaten yet?” she called, beckoning him over.

A small boat sat tied to one of the posts of the walkway. Gaara slipped the rope free. As he stepped into the boat, he pushed off with his other foot. The momentum alone was enough to push him in the direction of the Lily Garden. It only took a minute for his boat to reach the pavilion.

Gaara wrapped the rope around one of the posts before he stepped into the gazebo. He hesitated as he looked around. At the low table. At the half-eaten meal spread across the table. Sakura pulled him down next to her into the soft clutter of rugs and cushions.

“I’ve already had breakfast, Your Grace,” Gaara gave a feeble attempt at protest.

“Well, you need to eat again. A strong gust of wind would carry you off at this rate,” she ordered. She pushed a plate of fruit and pastries toward him.

“I… yes, Your Grace,” sighed Gaara. He picked up one of the golden-brown pastries. It glistened with globs of honey. Sakura watched him eating, her fist tucked under her chin. When he glanced at her, she just smiled.

As he ate, Gaara noticed Sakura’s gaze shift. He followed her line of sight. Saw that she was smiling at Prince Itachi. Only, the expression was different now. Somehow embarrassed, Gaara averted his gaze and swallowed down the rest of his food.

"So, little cousin, what ails you to make such a sour face on such a fine day?" queried Sakura, Wiping crumbs from his mouth with the back of his hand, Gaara stole another look at her. She was in a blouse and military breeches but the top buttons of her shirt were left open to reveal the thin gold chains draping across her collarbones. When she reached for him, the bangles on her wrist jingled together. She brushed aside a crumb he had missed.

"There is the matter of your spot being empty, still, Lady Sakura," Gaara admitted after some hesitation. Sakura's hand fell to her side.

“It’s not. You’re there, aren’t you?” she pointed out.

Gaara’s forehead wrinkled. “I mean, yes, I am. But… it’s… you’re the duchess.”

“And you’re the duchess’ proxy,” replied Sakura. Now it was her turn to sigh. “Although, you’re right. I’m losing my grasp on one throne. No sense in losing this one too.”

Gaara’s expression soured.

“I would die before I let that happen,” he declared.

Sakura studied his expression. Just for a moment. And then she touched the back of her hand to his chin. “I know,” she said after a long moment.

Gaara grasped her forearms. He kissed her cheek. Laughing, Sakura reciprocated the gesture. And then Gaara bowed to Itachi before he got to his feet.

Itachi followed Gaara with his eyes. Sakura gazed after him too, her chin in her palm.

“I’d like to ask you something,” Itachi told her after a while. Long after Gaara had disappeared. Long after the tea had disappeared from their cups.

“Yes?”

“I know by now that you get along extraordinarily well with this half your family. But you seem to be particularly fond of your placeholder," Itachi noted. That wasn’t a question in itself, but Sakura could guess what he meant. Sakura let out a heavy sigh while running a hand through her hair.

“His father is my chamberlain. Handles all the finance. And he does his job faultlessly. It’s just that he’s an awful human being who beats his son,” Sakura finally confessed.

Itachi grimaced. “All his children?”

Crossing her legs, Sakura shook her head.

“Just Gaara. And he’s done a good job of hiding it. I only learned of it within the last few years,” she stated.

Her upper lip curled as she recalled the purple splotch on Gaara’s arm. She hadn’t been meant to see it. And Gaara had pulled his sleeve down too late. She had never been good with sweet words of sympathy. But when she sat next to him. Holding his hand, not looking at him. She felt Gaara’s tears begin to drip onto her hand and wrist.

"I'm not criticizing your judgment but why do you keep such a vicious man in your inner circle?" queried Itachi. At this, Sakura's mouth smiled. But there was decided viciousness to the pull of her lips.

“Because of how long ago our branch of the Haruno family departed from the Arids, the elders worry that our noble blood will grow thin. So they have us take spouses from the desert. Sasori’s father was a noble scholar. And Lord Rasa is the son of a prince. My grandmother was taken from the Arids as well,” explained Sakura. She tapped her finger against the table. “In some ways, they are like ambassadors. Immune to certain… chastisement on our end. And they continue to update the family about affairs here.”

Itachi tilted his head, mouth opening. And then he closed his mouth.

Sakura raised her eyebrows at him.

“Well… I don’t want to insult your family…” Itachi hedged.

Sakura motioned for him to continue. “Please. I don’t usually get honest commentary.”

Itachi leaned in a little toward her. Sakura copied him, turning her ear toward him.

“That sounds like spying.”

Sakura blinked. “Oh, it is.”

And then it was her turn to look worried. “Does your family not do that?”

“They don’t,” Itachi replied.

Sakura arched an eyebrow. She shook her head a little. “They do. You just think they don’t,” she corrected him.

She knew why her family was the way it was. Their legacy was practically written in blood. A little cruelty on the part of a father was excusable as long as he was useful. Rasa was a master of money. He taxed the people fairly and never manipulated the ledgers. The family had never once been in debt since his appointment.

Sakura leaned back on her hands.

“You have another question,” she guessed, watching the twist of Itachi’s lips.

“Still… you kept him for years?”

Sakura took a deep breath through her nose. Exhaled through her mouth. And then she closed her eyes. “Until you know how to eliminate an enemy, it’s best to keep him in your sights. He won’t be around for much longer,” she replied.

She missed the way a visible shiver ran through Itachi. And when she opened her eyes again, there was the sharpness in her eyes that he recognized from those endless balls in Goliaf. Where words were knives and the sun didn’t shine so warmly.

Itachi opened his mouth to apologize. Without really understanding why.

“There’s no need,” she interrupted him before he could get the words out. “What have you done wrong to have to apologize, Your Highness?”

Eyebrows pinching together, he tilted his head. “I hurt your feelings.”

Sakura tilted her head, copying him. “Did you?”

+++

Several days later, Sakura sat in the throne room as she rubbed her temples with her fingers. Her mind continued to drift to the message she had received from Neji earlier that day. It had been sent in a plain brown envelope- ideal for escaping notice. But the message inside had been far from unremarkable, and the knowledge held within had gnawed at her gut for quite some time.

"And?" she prompted in a tired voice.

The soldier standing before her didn't meet her eyes. Sakura didn't blame him. It wasn't his fault that he had been chosen to deliver the bad news.

"Eventually two patrons of the pub were injured in the altercation before we managed to subdue him. He's being held in the broom closet there… awaiting your judgment, General," the man concluded.

"Guzzling down pints of ale, assaulting one of the bar maids, and then injuring two other people? Sounds like your men could use some more discipline, darling," commented Sasori with a smirk. Sakura ignored him and gave a nod when she heard Temari's fist connect with the top of his head in the background.

Sakura mulled over this report for a long time before she blew out a long breath.

"Bring him to me," she ordered. There was a brief moment of hesitation before the soldier bowed his head and marched from the room to fulfill her order.

"What are you planning to do? A public lashing sounds fair to me," scoffed Temari. She had little patience for the lechery of men. But Sakura didn't respond to her. In fact, only when the soldier returned several minutes later with his squinting companion did Sakura speak again. Both soldiers dropped to one knee, fists over their hearts as they awaited her verdict.

You are the one causing all this trouble, I assume.” Her voice snapped, cold and precise.

"Yes, General.” His throat bobbed, like he might burst into tears at any moment.

Sakura considered him for a long moment. Then she leaned back in her throne.

"You understand the rules of conduct. Your actions reflect on not just me but also on your fellow soldiers. You will be suspended for a period of 30 days," Sakura declared. Her tone left no room for argument.

"And…my pay?" the soldier dared to ask in a trembling voice.

"Your pay for the next month will be going to the owner of the pub you inconvenienced and to the medical expenses of the people you assaulted," Sakura said in return. There was such iron in her tone that even the blameless soldier who had simply reported the misconduct did not dare to raise his head.

Sakura sighed again.

"That being said, I understand that grief will drive a man to drink and to seek comfort in the wrong places. Use this as a time to reflect. Second chances do not come to everyone," she added. Before he could open his mouth to ask anything else, Sakura dismissed them. She sat watching their heavy-footed retreat until Gaara lightly touched her shoulder.

"That, I believe, is all for today, Your Grace," he whispered in her ear. And then, with another look around, Gaara spoke again.

"And I don't wish to alarm you, but you have some visitors," Gaara reported.

Sakura didn't even bother to ask "who". She motioned for the next people to be brought in and the heavy echo of marching boots answered her.

"Ah. I was wondering when you would show your faces around here again. Can I assume that you've left Nara in charge?" inquired Sakura as the two decorated soldiers marched in and dropped to one knee before her. But as they straightened, Sakura smiled at them.

“Please, don’t make a scene. You must be hungry,” said Sakura as she stood.

The group switched locations to the Lily Garden. Temari sat in one of the archways, her back up against the wooden frame and her spear held securely between her knees. Gaara sat in the piles of cushions near Sakura's feet, silent but his eyes following Sakura's every movement. Without hesitation, Shino and Kiba sat on either side of her. Kiba tossed his sheathed sword aside and it dropped to the floor with a loud clatter that made Gaara flinch. Before they could open up conversation, a little servant girl with bare feet pattered in and rose on her tiptoes to whisper in Sakura's ear.

“I have guests, but they’re more than welcome to join us,” Sakura replied. The girl ran off. Shino raised an eyebrow as he watched her.

“Is that wise, General?” he questioned.

It wasn’t long before the two princes entered the room. Shino and Kiba exchanged looks as Sakura uncrossed her arms.

“Did you really ask if I had time to waste?” Sakura repeated the servant girl’s words.

“We hardly discuss business. I’d call it a waste of time,” Sasuke retorted.

“Dreadful. At least have the decency to call it ‘diplomacy’,” Sakura sighed.

And then Sakura gestured toward the two princes.

“This is Prince Itachi and Prince Sasuke of the Mountain Kingdom. They are here as my guests for the season," added Sakura. Shino and Kiba bowed in greeting. Kiba, in particular, set his face. He had watched the easy exchange with a steadily darkening expression.

“General, our conversation…” Kiba murmured, leaning closer to her.

Sakura pushed him away by the shoulder. “Later. We should eat first,” she replied. And then she added, “And even if we were to have this talk here, all is well.”

"Even if we were in an alliance with the Mountain Kingdom, I still wouldn't talk so boldly of our security matters in front of its princes," scoffed Kiba.

"Is there an alliance in the making?" Shino questioned with a scrutinizing gaze fixating on Sasuke.

Sakura and Sasuke looked disgusted at the thought.

"Absolutely not."

"Respectfully, no."

But then Shino's eyes moved to examine the other Uchiha prince and Sakura cleared her throat before he could think too hard.

"Even without a marriage, King Fugaku has proposed a partnership between our isle and the Mountain Kingdom. He expressed interest in our tea and I did make some inquiries into his iron," Sakura declared. Her eyes were surprisingly soft as they fell on Kiba.

"I always encourage you to question me. It does not do for one person to have too much power. But in this case, be assured, Inuzuka, I know what I am doing," she said.

Kiba stared her in the eyes, searching for a long time before he acquiesced and bowed his head to defer to her judgment.

They enjoyed a light lunch. Countess Inuzuka had taught her son well. Kiba had no shortage of things to discuss with the two visiting princes. Shino, as usual, contributed little to the conversation. But Sakura knew that she could ask him later and he would recall the conversation in perfect detail.

With a look from Sakura, Gaara offered to take the princes down to the bazaar after the meal.

“If you go on the right day, you can watch the jeweler work,” he suggested. Sakura hid her approving smile behind her teacup.

Only after they excused themselves did Sakura broach the topic.

“Colonel Hyuuga warned me that I would be upset. He pleaded with me not to take it out on you two,” she said.

Shino cracked a smirk at that.

Kiba laughed too. He rubbed the back of his neck as he thought. And then that laugh faded. He touched his hand to his brow.

“Well, General. The southern border,” he began.

Sakura clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

“Attacks are growing more frequent. And more violent. One merchant was cut to ribbons. Another was nailed to a tree,” Kiba listed.

“The Regent’s response?” she prompted.

“Send more money,” Shino replied.

“They also want you to send troops down to address the matter. My mother pushed back on the matter and insisted they seek your permission first,” added Kiba.

Sakura tapped her fingers against her arm as she thought. “Knowing that old snake, Danzo Shimura would send an entire army to slaughter them all. But that would leave other areas vulnerable to attack,” she mused.

“Inside and out,” she then added. The other two nodded.

“We could send a smaller platoon,” suggested Kiba.

“No. They would be annihilated. And it would shame the entire kingdom,” Sakura said, shaking her head.

“It has to be you,” Shino stated.

Sakura and Kiba both lifted their heads to stare at him.

But then the expression on Kiba’s face changed. He turned his gaze to Sakura. “It does have to be you, General,” he agreed.

Sakura sighed. Touching her fingers to her temple, she nodded. “Very well. I will consider it.”

She had servants see the two Lieutenant Generals to their rooms. It had been a long journey just to get here. She wouldn’t send them back without some rest, although she knew Shino was probably itching to get home already.

Sakura shed her jacket and her boots. She dove off the edge of the room.

She sliced into the waves at an angle. The splash did not bewilder the passing servants, who barely glanced to see the ripples already dissipating. Sakura was nowhere to be seen. Temari gave a disinterested glance in the direction of the noise. She got to her feet to go find her youngest brother.

Meanwhile, Sakura twisted to float on her back underneath the Lily Garden, listened to the footsteps with vague irritation. It was a directionless, pointless sort of frustration, and that bothered her all the more. She drifted, feeling the tides pull her back and forth before she abruptly decided that afternoon that she didn't much feel like drinking tea or lounging around in the water or even like meeting with her advisors.

Flipping onto her stomach, Sakura dove down into the clear waters. She moved in powerful strokes in the direction of the back of the palace. With one strong pull, she lifted herself up onto the edge of the walkway and waited until a group of servant girls carrying clean laundry baskets passed. They all paused to bow and Sakura left them with a message for Temari about her general whereabouts before she dove back into the water with barely a splash.

Sakura did a few lazy laps around the area before she made her way into the heart of the royal apartments. And in one of the pavilions shrouded by vines and flowers, Sakura saw a head of curling black hair bent over a book. Without announcing her presence, she grabbed hold of one of the thick beams supporting the walkway and climbed up until she could reach the smooth wooden walkway. Water cascaded noisily down from her body as she hauled herself up.

It took a minute for her to catch her breath and wring most of the water out of her long hair. Still in her drenched clothes, Sakura entered the round space. Like most of the other rooms in the palace, this one had no walls at all. Instead, there were thick wooden posts at equal intervals that held up the beams above. The wooden floors were the color of damp sand against the blue of the lapping waves.

Sakura sat on an empty stretch of floor and leaned back in the cool shade. The crisscrossing pattern of the gazebo roof by itself wouldn't provide much cover from the sun but the thick vines growing over it did and so what light leaked in from above was dappling and it shivered as the wind moved the leaves. Letting out a loud sigh, Sakura let her head loll over the edge of the pavilion. The tips of her long hair dipped under the surface of the water. The tide was beginning to recede.

"You seem troubled," Kurenai finally said as she closed her book.

"Troubled would be a mild word to describe it, Aunt Kurenai," sighed Sakura in return.

"Troubled would be a mild word to describe your life in general, dear. What, in particular, troubles you this time?" Kurenai quipped.

Her eyes were such a light shade of brown that they were nearly red. And they were as gentle as they had always been, despite the few lines that had formed underneath them and at the corners. Sakura couldn't help but let out at least a faint smile.

"Liars and fools at every turn and bend trouble me," admitted Sakura.

"It's interesting that you lump those two together," said Kurenai.

"They're equally unforgivable," Sakura responded without remorse.

"Do liars and fools include your handsome guests? I don't believe I've had the chance to greet them yet," the older woman went on to ask.

"You would have met them had you come to that feast when we first arrived," Sakura reminded her. She picked a stray grain of sand out from under her nail before rolling onto her stomach. Her blouse was completely soaked and see-through. The light blue of her bandeau underneath peeked through, along with the strings of golden chains hanging from her neck. As she rolled her shirtsleeves up, Sakura felt Kurenai observing her.

“Yes, I do regret not attending,” Kurenai agreed with her.

“Do you feel better now? Has Yashamaru been taking care of you?” Sakura pressed.

Kurenai smiled. She reached down to stroke Sakura’s wet hair. “Yes, I’m quite alright now, love.”

And then Kurenai’s hand stilled. “My dear, I've heard people say that they have seen you enjoying the company of one of those dashing princes. Will you quash my hopes?" Kurenai broached the topic, as direct as always. And Sakura replied by shrugging her shoulders.

"The older one. He's frail and somewhat naïve. But he's also incredibly intelligent. And fun to tease," Sakura admitted.

"Are you pursuing him? I've never pushed you to marry, but if you've found someone…" Sakura heard the excitement in her aunt's voice and she chuckled.

"Maybe in time. But as of now, I'm a bit preoccupied with other matters. For example, I might leave for Whiteriver in a few days," she quickly dismissed the idea. The smile faded and instead Kurenai's expression sharpened.

"Whiteriver? Why would you return to that nest of vipers before you had to, darling?" questioned Kurenai. Her posture suddenly straightened, all serenity vanishing from her demeanor. People were often fooled by Kurenai. She was beautiful, elegant, soft-spoken- an ideal woman. Despite her age, men often fawned over her, trying desperately for a chance to gain her attention.

But Kurenai was also Tsunade's younger sister. And that sharpness of wit had run down to them from their mother. Her barbs were more than enough to send unwanted suitors fleeing. And though she was not the researcher that her sister had been, her acuity was nothing to be scoffed at.

"The southern border conflicts are escalating. It shouldn't take too long to handle. But it irritates me that I have to handle it at all," Sakura admitted. Kurenai raised an eyebrow.

"Why are you the one who has to deal with it then? Shouldn't one of your underlings be assigned to the task instead?" Kurenai wondered. Though Kurenai herself had no experience in the military, she knew enough to realize that delegation of tasks was a large part of what Sakura did. But Sakura shook her head.

"There are some things that seem little but are actually huge. For instance, the General of a country's armies personally riding out to address a small border conflict can be the difference between a war and a solid alliance. Or, it could mean the difference between a massacre and a victory,” Sakura explained. Though Kurenai looked no less concerned, she nodded her approval.

"Diplomatic and fierce. Your mother and father would both be proud," declared Kurenai.

With a hard laugh, Sakura sat up. She carelessly tugged her shirt over her head and tossed it in a sopping heap to the side.

"If only the pride of the dead could touch us in real life,” she scoffed as she ran her fingers through her hair. As she peeled her breeches off her wet legs, Kurenai tittered.

"It does, my dear. That is why we have dynasties,” answered Kurenai.

Throwing her head back, Sakura laughed loudly at the thought. She never tired of her aunt's ability to play with words. Sakura turned to look at Kurenai.

"Have a nice swim. I'll always be here if you need to laugh again," Kurenai assured her.

"Thank you," Sakura replied. And then she dove off the edge of the gazebo. This time, her fall was at a perfect angle. She hardly made a splash. And she plunged deep into the warm waters.

A column of bubbles flew upwards as she exhaled. The world was painted in dazzling shades of blue. The push and pull of the tides rumbled above but Sakura drifted calmly beneath the waves. A school of silvery fish darted past, brushing against the side of her leg. Stretching her arms out in front of her, Sakura kicked off one of the wooden posts and pulled herself through the glittering water.

+++

Security of her home had always been one of Sakura’s top priorities. There was no shortage of people who coveted their lands and their power. The recent fuss at the border unsettled Sakura. She checked in with the palace guards, spoke to the servants, who knew the goings-on of the palace better than anyone else. All seemed well. Still, Sakura couldn’t settle the unease that he settled in the pit of her stomach.

Sakura decided to oversee a set of soldiers practicing archery in the courtyard. She was greeted with salutes, straight lines and rows. Not a toe out of place. It was funny how easily she melted back into the role. It was even funnier how willing the others were to accept her that way.

She stood, hands behind her back, feet shoulder-width apart. Whenever her gaze fell on anyone, she could see his shoulders tense up with the weight. She walked between the rows, inspecting stances and equipment. They ran through the drill once. Sakura addressed a few postures. A soldier hurried over to hand her a bow and arrow of her own. Sakura pulled the string taught, demonstrating the proper angles of her arms and shoulders.

“Do you understand?” she demanded.

“Yes, General,” the soldier replied.

“Look at me,” Sakura instructed. Slowly, the man’s eyes rose. Sakura almost smiled at him. “I don’t bother those without potential. Try it again.”

She took several steps book, out of the way of the arrows. As she leaned against a column, Sakura felt something touch her shoulder.

"You look tired. Tea?”

Sakura's posture didn't relax. As she tilted her head, she saw him standing there, sunlight shining off his dark hair. The clean lines of the silk vest and the soft shirt underneath suited him well.

"Itachi," she said. She noticed the way he still looked embarrassed whenever she called his name so easily. But he didn't try to stop her. He only held out the steaming cup to her.

"You, on the other hand, look very well," she responded as she accepted the drink. She took a sip. It was earthy and mellow. She took another sip.

"Perhaps it's the sea air. Or the medicines your physician has prescribed. I’ve certainly felt more invigorated," said Itachi. They regarded one another almost cautiously before Itachi was the first to give a tentative smile. Sakura couldn't help but return the expression warmly.

"Nock your arrows. Elbows up. And fire on my signal," the instructor called out in a clear voice. Seagulls called out overhead. Sakura could hear the giggles of servant girls doing laundry elsewhere in the palace. And then there was a collective snap as fingers released the ends of the arrows.

The arrows should have flown cleanly, toward the ceramic vases always used for target practice. The shards were then collected so that children of the orphanage could make mosaic crafts out of them. But Sakura could see how one arrow hit its mark off-center. And the perfect shatter of the vases into a clean pile suddenly became a haphazard ricochet of sharpened pottery flying outwards. She followed, almost in slow motion, as a collection of shattering vase flew in their direction.

Sakura threw herself in front of Itachi before she realized what she was doing. And as she pushed him aside, the teacup slipped from her fingers, breaking against the pavement.

As blood ran down the side of Sakura's arm, Itachi felt panic rise in his chest. Someone let out a shrill scream for help.

"Sak-" He began to call her name but he was easily drowned out by the sound of boots clomping down the walkway. Pushing past the other men, and even past Itachi without a second thought, Sasori ran forward, eyes already frantically searching for something to staunch the bleeding. And at the same time, Gaara and his siblings came running from the opposite direction, along with Sasuke. Sasori ripped the scarf from Kankuro's head and then yanked at the thin fabric of Sakura's blouse. The sleeve tore easily, allowing him access to her upper arm. He bound her cut in rough tugs, his eyes flaming.

"It was an accident," she sighed even though Sasori hadn't yet said anything.

"An accident," he tersely repeated. His lips barely moved.

"Please clean this up quickly," directed Shikamaru, touching the shoulder of the nearest servant. She nodded and began quickly gathering the shattered pieces of pottery with her apron. A few of her fellow workers knelt to aid her.

"The physician," Shino declared before he hurried off in a gait that was somehow simultaneously incredibly relaxed and incredibly urgent.

Sasuke stared at the chaotic scene. And then he took his brother by the arm, speaking to him in a low voice. Itachi responded, shaking his head. Sasuke looked relieved.

"Explain yourself," ordered Kiba. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“We were practicing aim. And the vase just- and the General," the dazed young man stuttered out. Letting out an exasperated noise, Kiba offered his hand to the soldier. Still only looking vaguely aware, the young man accepted the hand and pulled himself up.

"Calm down. I need you to tell me, in detail, just what happened," Kiba slowly said. They walked a little ways away to converse in low tones.

"What if this scars?" scolded Sasori, gingerly pressing his thumbs into the skin about the scarf wound around her upper arm. Despite the pain, Sakura kept a straight face.

“Then I will have another interesting story to tell," retorted Sakura. Shaking his head, Sasori leveled a glower at her.

"It was an archery exercise. This particular vase happened to shatter badly and one of the shards flew at me. It feels like a shallow cut. I will be fine," Sakura insisted. She decided against telling him about how she had gotten hurt covering for Itachi. Though her cousin bore no ill will toward the prince, Sakura doubted he would take the news well. Temari nudged Sasori with the handle of her spear.

"From Inuzuka's expression, it looks as if Lady Sakura is correct. I say we have Uncle take a look at her and then clean this up quickly. The girls don't handle blood well," murmured Temari with one casual glance at the nervous servants. Sasori nodded once.

Sakura sat. She held her arm up above her head in an attempt to minimize the bleeding. Her serenity only seemed to irritate Sasori further. He sighed and glared, crossing and uncrossing his arms as he waited.

When the physician arrived, Gaara made a hasty retreat. Itachi’s head turned as he followed the abrupt departure. But then he met Sakura's eyes and realized that he wasn't imagining things. Then Sakura jerked her head in the direction of Gaara's back. Temari and Kankuro only hesitated slightly before they followed. Sasori hesitated a moment longer. When Sakura frowned at him, he went after his cousin too.

"My, my, things were so quiet when you weren't here, Your Grace," Yashamaru joked as he set his bag down on the table. He sighed helplessly when Sakura grasped a shattered piece of pottery and tried to pull it from the gash on her upper arm. When more blood dribbled out, Sasuke's face grew slightly green.

“Please, Your Grace,” Yashamaru gave an impatient sigh, pushing her hand away.

"Would one of you please help me?" Yashamaru then requested as he dug in his bag.

Sasuke opened his mouth to volunteer but then he shook his head in jerky motions. It was Itachi that stepped forward instead. Yashamaru didn't even look at him as he put on his glasses.

"Please hold this dish," the physician instructed as he thrust a round metal dish into Itachi's hands. And then, with his forceps, Yashamaru began pulling out the shards of pottery from the cuts peppering Sakura's arm. Two of the bigger pieces had lodged into her skin. As he pulled the fragments covered in blood out, he dropped them into the dish.

Sasuke lingered, most likely to show his support. But eventually he averted his eyes from the blood and then lightly touched Sakura's elbow.

"My friend, my deepest apologies, but I must take my leave," he said.

Despite the pain, Sakura cracked a smile.

"Don't push yourself for my sake. Go. I will see you later," she answered. Nodding, Sasuke left as well.

With a final clink, the last piece of broken vase landed in the dish. Yashamaru then set about washing the cuts out with warm water before applying an ointment that smelled vaguely of roses. As he heated a needle, Yashamaru seemed to remember something.

“Prince Itachi.” Yashamaru threaded the needle in one try.

“Um…Yes, Doctor," Itachi replied. He stood at Yashamaru’s elbow, leaning in as watched the process. Sakura bit her lip as Yashamaru grasped her upper arm and began stitching together the edges of one of the bigger wounds.

“How are you feeling, Your Highness?” the doctor queried, as if they were having a pleasant chat over tea.

“Quite well,” answered Itachi.

“Excellent. I recommend that in about a week’s time, as long as you continue to feel well enough, you should begin a light exercise regimen. Perhaps regular walks. Swimming would be best,” Yashamaru suggested.

“The Prince can’t swim, Yashamaru,” Sakura interrupted. “Ispolin is landlocked.” She let out a quiet hiss as the needle jabbed into her arm again. Itachi flinched too, his hand tightening into a fist. Sakura caught the movement. She laughed a little before it dissolved into a hiss again.

“He can learn, can’t he, Your Grace?”

Yashamaru sealed up the rest of her bigger cuts in the same way before he covered everything in another ointment. This one had a much stronger smell, something faintly fermenting and bitter and the color of moss. He bandaged the upper arm completely.

Sakura looked up. She thought she caught the flicker of Gaara’s hair as it disappeared around a corner. She heaved a sigh.

“How long are you going to keep up this charade?” she wondered.

“As long as I must. What good what it do to anger Lord Rasa? He might seem a yapping dog to you. He’s a bull to me,” Yashamaru pointed out. He held her forearm and had her wiggle each of her fingers.

"You practically raise the boy and then his father orders you not to coddle him. And so you convince him that you hate him. That’s detestable," jabbed Sakura with a pointed look. Yashamaru's violet eyes narrowed.

"You vastly underestimate your chamberlain’s capacity for cruelty. If childbirth had not taken my sister, I am positive that that awful man's temper would have," muttered Yashamaru darkly. When Yashamaru gave her a pointed look, Sakura tilted her chin.

“Be patient. A time will come when you will see him as a yapping dog as well,” she urged him.

“How soon?”

“Have I ever disappointed you, Yashamaru?” was all she said in response.

Yashamaru’s gaze flickered up to the prince. Then over to Sakura.

“Is it wise to discuss such things in front of such an esteemed guest?” he asked.

Sakura’s gaze fell on Itachi too. “Yes.”

Yashamaru said nothing else of the matter.

+++

Conversation over afternoon tea trailed off when a small shadow began circling around and around. Sakura lifted her head and squinted against the sunlight until she saw the familiar shape of a bird with spread wings circling.

"A dove?" Gaara said out loud.

The bird swooped down. Sakura raised her nearly-healed arm and the bird landed, talons curling around her forearm. It let out a coo before allowing Sakura to untie the note on its leg. Then it spread its wings and took off into the air again before swooping off in the direction of the aviary where the other messenger birds roosted. After such a long journey, it was probably looking forward to some food and rest.

Sasori glanced at the seal in passing and let out an audible scoff.

"Again. Another invitation to tea time?" he mocked.

Unsmiling, Sakura pried the envelope open and pulled out the message inside. She already had an idea of the words that would be contained within.

Dear Sakura,

I hope earnestly that this letter finds you well. I would spare time for pleasantries but I'm afraid an urgent matter has arisen.

"Why? Did he trap himself in his bedchambers? Remind him to pull the door-not push, darling," Sasori interrupted.

As you know, the ancestors of the Uzumaki family were nobles from the former Wave Country. It was a small nation, dwarfed in comparison to the larger kingdoms surrounding it. After the fall of its monarchy, the people descended into chaos and now the land is ruled by roaming clans. Because of our family's ties-

"Our family?" repeated Kankuro with a clear note of disgust in his tone. But a look from Temari quieted him once more.

"Because of our family's ties of ancestry, our southwestern border with these clans has remained relatively free of conflict. The raids believed to be the work of bandits that have recently plagued the south are actually the product of these clans crossing the border. Though I, as the last head of my family, would prefer to meet with these raiders, my position does not allow me to leave the throne unoccupied. Therefore, I ask that you, along with my son, ride out to meet with these raiders. I trust that you will find a way to end this bloodshed."

The bottom of the letter was signed in looping script along with the seal of a familiar signet ring.

"How insulting." Temari was the first to speak after the end of the letter.

"This man does not seem to understand that his brother was, in fact, the consort and not the actual king," Kankuro agreed.

"My father was indeed the King Consort but he ruled alongside my mother. And, while I am most certainly a Haruno, I cannot deny that these are my father's kin," Sakura declared with some reluctance

"So you plan to ride out," Sasori guessed.

"I've been planning to ride out already. Even his urgent letters are late," remarked Sakura. It was true that the ship had already been loaded with supplies and it sat waiting in the harbor. Troops were already moving to meet them in the port city of Whitewave in a few week’s time.

"With that fool? I'd sooner attempt to parley with bandits with a dancing monkey tied to my back," Kankuro snorted.

"I must. It’s a formal request from the Regent," said Sakura with an air of finality. Handing the letter off to Sasori, Sakura put her hands on her hips.

"Gaara, my dear cousin," she then said, turning to the redhead. He was the only one who had not spoken during this entire time. He simply stood at her elbow, eyes alert as he took in everyone's words.

"I will entrust this island to you once again while I tend to this ugly business," Sakura stated. Gaara nodded.

“Surely you won’t be moving alone…” Temari worried.

“As if Sasori would stay behind,” Sakura scoffed. Sasori nodded. “And I’m sure that the Lieutenant Generals would be willing to escort us to Whitewave.”

"And the idi- Prince Naruto?” questioned Sasori.

"If the Regent so desires…" she trailed off. Her answer was obvious.

"And your guests? What will they do while you're off wrangling raiders?" Kankuro inquired.

Sakura gave him an exasperated look. “Are you incapable of entertaining company for a while longer, Kankuro?”

Kankuro shrugged. “No. I just wanted to ask something smart, too.”

Everyone laughed, at least for a bit. The worry was still there. Especially in Gaara’s gaze as he suddenly grasped Sakura’s arm. She looked over at him. She pressed a kiss to his temple.

“I know. I won’t be long,” she promised.

+++

Early in the morning- early enough that there was almost no one else awake in the palace, Itachi stirred in his warm bed. He squinted as he struggled to identify just what had roused him at such an hour. He had finally adjusted to the difference in hours between his home and Plumeria. He had stopped waking in the afternoon, although Sakura had never made any comments about it in the first place.

The swaths of translucent white fabric flowing down to form a canopy around him swayed in the light breeze. They also conveniently acted as a barrier between his flesh and the hungry insects that tended to gather in the warm nights.

He ran a hand through his hair. His nose wrinkled against the scent that filled his room. The physician had filled the incense holders in the room with a strange, yellow herb that was supposed to strengthen his lungs. It burned quietly, filling the place with an earthy smell that reminded him of his home in the mountains. But the herb in the burners had burnt up in the night and the fragrance was light in the morning cool. Though Itachi couldn't exactly say that he disliked it, it was just strange to inhale that particular smell first thing in the morning.

It was then that Itachi, in all his grogginess, heard a splash. Rolling onto his side, he pulled the curtain around the bed aside to peer out the window above his bed. It was still dark out, but the rising sun was beginning to fill the sky with colors.

"Darling, you do realize that I am simply here to remind you of how dangerous this is," Sasori called. Standing on the walkway leading to the one of the palace's numerous buildings was the admiral with his hands on his hips. But the sag of his shoulders said that he wasn't worried at all. Eyes widening, Itachi followed the direction of Sasori's gaze until he saw Sakura sitting on top of the cube-shaped building. Legs dangling over the edge, Sakura leaned back on her hands and smirked down at him.

"You say that, but you aren't doing the best job of convincing me that I'm in danger," she replied.

She was barely clothed in swimwear that left her arms, legs, and stomach bare. Itachi swallowed thickly and tried to focus his gaze on her face. Her long hair was soaking wet and stuck to her back. Sakura then raised her arms over her head, clasping her hands together. Almost in slow motion, she leaned forward to bend her body in a perfect arch. Then she slipped off the edge of the roof. She sliced through the surface of the water at an angle with another splash. Sasori raised his hand to block the spray of water from hitting his face.

When Sakura's head broke through the waves, she threw her head back to keep her hair out of her eyes. She wiped her face with one hand before she swam her way to the walkway. Sasori offered her a hand but she simply pulled her arms up onto the wooden planks to rest there for a moment. She pillowed her cheek on her forearm as she caught her breath.

"You do realize that there are people trying to sleep," a gruff voice joined them. Shuffling out of one of the apartments, Kankuro raised his hand in greeting. Sasori returned the gesture before putting his hands back on his hips. Kankuro shuffled over, feet bare and still clothed in his linen pajama pants. His torso was bare, something that had initially surprised Itachi after growing up with people who wouldn't even leave their bedrooms without at least some sort of dressing gown on top of their nightclothes. But it seemed to be a normal thing for people on the island, and he supposed that it made sense given the warm nights.

Missing his usual scarf tied around his head at an angle, Kankuro ran a hand through his messy hair and let out a large yawn. There was a large tattoo of a spider on his left side, stretching from his hipbone up to his ribs.

"What are you even doing, My Lady? Aren't you usually taking your morning ride at this time?" he questioned as he rubbed his eyes.

"A change of pace is good for the soul. I will ride Kaze in the afternoon instead," answered Sakura. Then she lifted her head to look at Sasori. And because the redhead's back was turned to him, Itachi couldn't see the expression on his face. But something sparkled silently in Sakura's gaze before she abruptly grabbed Kankuro's ankle and pulled him into the water. He fell in with a loud noise that sprayed water in every direction.

When Kankuro rose to the surface, he spat salt water and then coughed.

"A little warning would have been appreciated!" he exclaimed.

"Well where's the fun in that, Cousin?" replied Sasori as he feigned innocence. Sakura nodded her agreement. Kankuro splashed water at Sasori, soaking his pajamas in an act of revenge. Sasori promptly pulled off his sandal and threw it at Kankuro. With a wet slap, the leather connected with Kankuro's forehead. Sakura laughed, her eyes squinting shut and her mouth opened wide.

Itachi watched from the quiet of his own room. After a while, he lowered his hand and let the veil fall back into place between them. He stared at her through that thin barrier for a moment longer. But the rising sun's rays began sparkling off the waters until he could no longer make out her shape through the brilliance of the reflected light. Then he closed his eyes to soak in the sounds of her mirth and the dull roar of ocean waves as the tide slowly filtered out.

He had started to understand why Sakura loved this island so. It wasn’t just the food or the beauty of the scenery. It was the way she could speak and laugh so openly. Giggling and playing pranks like a child.

She had struck him as someone who wouldn’t bleed even if pricked with a needle. As unchanging and firm as the face of a mountain. Strong enough to carry all those different titles on her shoulders.

But here, he could see that even the face of a mountain was shaped by things more powerful. And he understood that he was mistaken. She was not a mountain. She was an ocean current. Pulling and pushing, always beating against the land until slowly, unknowingly, it molded to her will.

+++

< Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11>

[obeymefanfics]

Late Night Snack

Pairing: Beelzebub x Ester

Summary: It was a quite night within the house of Lamentation as what a better time for a restless Ester to use the kitchen.  Though they got a surprise visit by the kitchen’s most visited occupant of the house.

It was late into the night as I thought it would be the best time to get up to do some cooking. Putting on slippers and grabbing my bag of ingredients, I quietly slipped out of my room and walked into the kitchen before turning the light on. At the counter I carefully set down the bag and opened it taking all the contents out, proceeding to put some of the incense in its tiny vase and lighting it. Making sure to make the least amount of sound I carefully take out the utensils I needed in order to bake small cakes and tea. Rolling up my sleeves I got to work.

Softly humming to myself as I was putting the batch of cakes into the preheated oven. Life here so far in Devildom hasn’t been that bad as in fact it’s been rather interesting, though admittedly it has also been a bit stressful. Working on the tea, I put the tea pot on the stove with water and in the cup I put the homemade tea bag of black tea leaves and orange zest. “I didn’t know you cooked Ester,” I suddenly heard from behind me as I let out a small scream which instantly I covered my hand over my mouth to not wake the others who were sleeping. 

Turning around there stood none other than Beelzebub as how could I forget he would be the only one who’d most likely come in here at this hour. “Geez you scared me,” I said taking a breath calming myself down from the little spook. “Sorry, I was hungry so I came to get a late night snack,” he apologized as he went over to the fridge taking out whatever he could possibly grab before sitting at the table. “It’s fine,” I replied, turning off the stove top and carefully moving to tea pot to pour the hot liquid into the cup.

“So wha ar fu mafing,” Beelzebub asked with his mouth full as I grabbed a rag and got my small cakes out. “Well I couldn’t really sleep so I thought I’d come and make myself some calm cakes and tea,” I explained while now opening my jar of honey and scooping some and stirring it into my tea. Seeming to have swallowed his food with a raised eyebrow he asked, “Calm cakes, are those a human world thing?” Shaking my head in a no manner I let a small nervous laugh. “No, no, you see I’m  what many would call a kitchen witch. A-And unlike other witches, witches like I we’re more about using herbs, foods and everyday items to create magical meals. Calm cakes is my own recipe that I like to make whenever I’m feeling a bit stressed or restless,” I quickly answered since I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea.

Though it seemed his purple pinkish eyes seem to light up as of course anything having to do with food would catch his attention. I turned my attention back to gently taking the small soft cakes out of the molds and onto the plate. Picking up my cup to take the first sip, I catch a glimpse of an arm reaching over and picking up one of the cakes. Feeling myself tense up and face grow warm, I could feel Beel’s tall presence behind me as even if he wasn’t that close I couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit flustered. Turning to look behind me I watched as he popped the whole thing into his mouth and start to chew.

“Mmmhh not foo bad,” Beel commented while still eating. Hearing those words made me feel overjoyed as if there was anyone I really wanted to impress with my cooking skills was him. In all honesty Beelzebub was easy to talk to or to be best described as a giant teddy bear who I was able to bond over our love of food. “Can I have another one,” I heard him ask which seem to snap me out of the little trance I was in as I blinked once, twice before finally registering in my brain what was said. “O-Oh uh sure, though I would be careful since they might be on the strong side as I would feel bad if you just fell over from dozing off,” I said as I did put in a good amount of chamomile into the batch. Nodding he proceeded to pick up another and eat it with a look of content.

Letting out a small giggle I picked up a cake for myself and bit into the soft cake, the soft undertone of ginger could be tasted along with the chamomile as I was able to feel it starting to help me feel more relaxed. Remembering the two of us were standing so close together I finally slipped away a bit and set down my cup and started to wash everything I used so I could put it away. We held a good conversation about what other kinds of recipes I’ve made while I put my ingredients back in my bag before putting the last thing away. Picking up the last cake that was on the napkin and munched on it until it was gone. Stretching my arms upwards I definitely was starting to feel more tired than I did earlier. “Hey hold still for a sec,” Beel said as I tilted my head to the side confused as that changed instantly to shock when his hand came up to my face brushing his thumb across the corner of my lips. Feeling my heart beating against my chest I could only imagine how red in the face I was getting as it didn’t stop there as afterward he brought his thumb to his mouth and licked the crumbs off. I didn’t know what I’d pass out from first; my drowsiness or from embarrassment, but I breathed in order to keep myself from either happening. 

“A-Ah thanks, I-uh I think I’m going to turn in for the night,” I said picking up my bag to bring back to my room as I started to hear his footsteps after I started to walk heading out. “I know it isn’t far but I’ll walk you back,” he said as when I glanced over my shoulder he had such a gentle smile on his face as it always made me melt on the inside, cuz really how much cuter can a demon get. “Thanks I appreciate it,” I replied gratefully as though it was a short walk, we walked beside each other.

Opening the door I stepped into my room and looked over to Beelzebub before saying, “You can come in if you’d like.” He seemed to take my offer as he walked in and shut the door while I put my bag by the nightstand where my alter was set up. Turning around he sat on my bed as I went over and joined him making sure to lay a blanket over my lap. “Hey what’s that tattoo of,” I heard Beel suddenly ask as when I looked over I saw him pointing to my left arm as just below my palm was what he was referring to. 

“Oh that’s my tattoo I got after my sister turned three,” I said with a smile. “I didn’t know you had a sibling,” he said, though he didn’t seem all that surprised. I quickly nodded as I was always happy to talk about my siblings. “I actually have two little siblings; Juniper really likes these species of moths called Venezuelan poodle which I also have her birthstone with it,” I said before pushing up my right sleeve to show the other one. “This one I got for my brother Donovan; for the longest time he absolutely loved this amphibian we call axolotls so I got that with his birthstone,” I said as I remember the first time he got to see while we were at the zoo. He nodded listening as he continued to examine my wrists. 

I was feeling more tired as I found myself leaning against Beel and resting my head on his shoulder which thankfully he didn’t seem to mind. “Hey Ester,” I heard he deep yet soft voice say my name as an instant response I lazily look at him only feeling my eyes getting harder to keep open. “Hmm yeah Beel,” I replied back sleepily as I wasn’t sure if it was the room feeling like it got a lot warmer or because Beel was next to me, but it was a comfortable warmth. “Could you cook for me again sometime,” I heard him ask as it sounded so innocent though my eyes fluttered closed by I hadn’t completely fallen asleep, but I smiled happy to hear that he wanted me to cook for him again. “Of course Beel…Good night Beel,” I managed to utter out as I was finally drifting off to sleep even though I wasn’t sure if I was imagining things but it felt like for a moment something soft brushed against the top of my head.  

~~~ Extra ~~~

The Demon Brothers(6)

Leviathan: Hey has anyone seen Beelzebub??

Asmodeus: ??? 

Asmodeus: Have you checked the kitchen?

Mammon: Yea but he ain’t here. As it’s already past breakfast! Also has anyone seen Ester?

Lucifer: He probably is just in his room, he most likely just brought his food to his room.

Asmodeus: You can’t find Ester that’s horrible!

Asmodeus: 😱

Satan: Guys relax I found both of them

Leviathan: Huh where are they??

Satan: They’re both sound asleep in Ester’s room 

Mammon: WHAT?! Wake them up!

Leviathan: LOL That’s so funny. Satan take a picture!

Mammon: You better not Satan! I’m coming to wake them up!

[saoirse7ilysi]

The LadyBlogger Cafe’

Things you may need to know about this Fic:

-This an OT4, Coffee shop AU.

-This is also an Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics oriented fic with an extra +1.

-Everyone is somewhere in their twenties.

-This is about to get real Steamy!

Will add more warnings as they may apply.

Chapter 2

When the alarm on his phone started blaring through the bedroom, Nino buried his face into his pillow and groaned. After a moment of lamenting the existence of mornings, he blindly reached over to the nightstand to find the offending device and switched it off. 

Once his room was plunged into silence again, he rolled over until he was lying on his back. He pressed both of his hands into his face to rub some of the sleepiness away and he took a deep, cleansing breath.

God, he hated waking up in the morning. Sleeping just felt too good. But once he was up, being awake felt great. It was just the process of getting there that sucked. 

He reached over to his phone once again and hit his favorite music app, causing the sound system to come to life with his morning playlist. Satisfied with that, he set the phone aside to start getting ready for the day.

After getting through most of his morning routine, he stood in the bathroom, having just finished brushing and washing out his mouth. Nino placed his hands on the counter, leaning on them as he stared at himself in the mirror.

“You’ve got this, Lahiffe,” he said to his reflection. “They’re just two girls who just so happen to own the coffee shop that your best bud likes to get his daily fix from.”

… No big deal, right…

...Right…?

Two girls…

Two women…

Two incredibly sexy women… who just so happened to know exactly what to say or what to do to make him lose all sense of brain function…

Alya, with her auburn hair that lightened in color as it got closer to the tips. He could swear it would reach past her incredible ass if it wasn’t pulled up into a high ponytail. Her side swept bangs that framed her face just right and really brought out her eyes. 

God, those eyes. 

Those large, light brown eyes that were almost gold. They turned up in the corners giving her an almost constant air of mischief about her. 

Although, That could just be her, and not her eyes…. Her eyes that seemed to practically invite him into her bedroom every time she looked at him…

And Marinette was no better…her eyes that would forever remind him of lapis lazuli. They were bright and round, giving her a sense of innocence that was clearly deceptive, all things considered. 

She piled her midnight hair on top of her head in a messy bun, letting her long layered bangs frame her face beautifully, bringing attention to the almost invisible freckles across her nose.

However, while she didn’t seem near as mischievous, she was just as willing to look at him with the same intent as her counterpart. 

And it killed him every time. 

It was like they were daring him to ask them out…

Them…?

...As in both…? 

Or just one…?

...But then, which one?

How was he supposed to choose?

And what would happen if he did? Would they go out, have a good time, then go about their lives as usual… or would they… she… they?... want more? And what, exactly, would ‘more’ mean?

Nino’s blood instantly rushed south at that thought, bringing him back to the present. His eyes locked on to the deep shade of red that covered his cheeks and even tinted his ears. 

He then dropped his head, letting it hang between his shoulders as he still braced against the counter. That’s when he realized his heart rate had increased…and heat started to pool in his lower abdomen as he thought about why.

“Fuck it.”

His clothes fell to the floor as he stripped, stepping into the shower for the second time that morning. However this time, he turned the water to cold instead of hot.

*****

It didn't take him long to drive from his apartment to The LadyBlogger Café. Pulling into a parking spot, he took a deep breath to prepare himself. As nervous as these girls made him, he couldn't be happier that this had become Adrien’s favorite place for getting his coffee.

Even on his worst days, he would still be able to name at least two good things that happened. And no, those two things were not exclusively Alya and Marinette… it was them on one hand, and getting to hang out with Adrien on the other.

Satisfied that he wasn’t going to be any more prepared than he was now, he went ahead and left his car. Straightening his cap, he walked toward the door to wait for his turn in line. 

Marinette spotted him immediately and smiled before calling over her shoulder in a musical tone, “Alya, don’t look now, but guess who just arrived.”

Alya grinned at her girlfriend.

“Hmmm.” She took a moment to pretend to think while taking care of another customer’s order. She hadn’t looked in Nino’s direction yet. “I don’t know…” she teased, “You’ll have to give me a hint.”

Marinette scrutinized Nino as he shifted nervously in the back of the line for a moment before answering. “He’s tall…”

“Girl,” Alya snorted, “Everyone’s tall compared to you.”

“Hey!” Marinette said indignantly, stuffing a straw in the other woman's cleavage as she walked by, “Fine then.” She glanced at Nino once again. And grinned wickedly. “He has the most amazing amber eyes you’ve ever seen.”

“Now, there’s a description that narrows it down,” Alya teased. 

Nino blushed as the line moved up. Some of the other customers quieted down to listen to the banter. He scratched at the small hairs at the back of his neck, not really knowing what to say to stop them…. Or if he wanted to stop them…

Adrien would have a field day if he saw this...

“...a strong jaw…” Marinette continued.

Alya hummed, waiting for more. She still hadn't looked in his direction.

“Broad shoulders,” she practically purred, “I’m willing to bet, toned muscles.”

“Well, if it’s who I'm thinking, then those muscles would have to be toned… working in security and all.” There it was. It was quick, and if he hadn’t been paying attention, he would have missed it, but she finally glanced at him.

He couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. He stepped forward as another customer had been helped.

“Indeed,” Marinette studied him again. “Have I mentioned his smile?”

“You know,” Alya said after taking the next order, “I don't believe you have.” 

Marinette fetched some food for said order from the kitchen, making sure it was nice and warm before continuing.

“Absolutely captivating,” she said, winking at Nino.

He felt as if his face were about to burst into flame. These women were merciless. He may as well be a puddle on the floor for all the support his bones gave him. 

How exactly does one react to this?

“Ooh,” Alya did purr as she pushed the last customer’s order across the counter, winking in her direction. Marinette turned to start his chili mocha while Alya pulled out two steaming croissants and placed them in a bag. “Tell me more…”

“Dazzling,” Marinette leaned into Alya as she passed her by. “Really, you should see for yourself.” 

 “Is that so?” Alya stopped short of the counter to turn toward her girlfriend, waiting for her to finish flavoring the coffee. “Before I do,” she teased once they were both ready to hand over Nino’s order, “Tell me, is he kissable?”

That was when both girls turned toward him to look at him through their lashes. He instantly felt his blood start rushing and he gulped as his heart rate increased exponentially. He suddenly felt illogically nervous. It should have been obvious where this was going, but a small part of him doubted he could be this lucky that these two incredibly attractive women would find him kissable.

They pushed his order to him before Marinette answered.

“Definitely.”

“Wow…” Nino breathed, reaching up to adjust his cap with both hands and leaving the one at the back of his head to rub at the small hairs there. “You ladies really know how to make a guy blush.”

They both smiled proudly at that, eyeing each other before turning their attention back to him.

He cleared his throat in an attempt to clear his thoughts as well. He pulled his hand away from his head and rested it on the bag of croissants, ready to pick it up. 

“Ah- Listen, Ladies,” He began awkwardly, “I was wondering-”

It was in that moment that his phone began to ring a familiar tone, effectively interrupting him. His brows furrowed together and he looked down. When he had his phone out and he could see the very name he expected lighting up the screen, he tightened his grip on the paper bag in his hand and reached for the coffee waiting for him. 

He quickly excused himself with an apology and a promise to be back tomorrow before heading outside and answering the call.

“Nathalie,” he greeted. “What’s up?” He walked at a brisk pace to his car, ready to unlock it.

“Is Adrien with you?” she said in her rather matter-of-fact tone. 

Fuck.

Nino scowled at the implication of that seemingly innocent question. If Nathalie was asking that, then that meant that Adrien wasn’t home. And that he wasn’t out with his bodyguard. Something that was strictly forbidden for him.

Of course, Nino was aware of the very simple fact of that not stopping his best friend. And frankly, he was fine with that. However, now he was in for a far more stressful day than he had intended. Either he would have to lie to Nathalie and tell her that Adrien was with him then pray he find the man immediately because no doubt that they would be ordered to head back now, or he tell her the truth and therefore spend the entire day looking for him, and either way risk losing his job.

Not that he really cared about the job aspect of it. He was being paid to hang out with his best friend everyday. He could do with or without the money. 

No.

Him getting fired would also mean him getting banned from the premises and Adrien’s dad hiring someone new to replace him. Someone who would be completely subservient to Gabriel Agreste, and that house would then be suffocatingly lonely for Nino’s best bud.

Either way, he needed to find him. And the more time he was given to do so, the better. 

He sighed.

“No, he’s not with me. I was just on my way there,” he said, pulling his hat from his head so he could run his hand through his hair. “I’ll start looking for him now. Let me get back to you.”

“Keep me updated,” was her curt reply before the line was promptly cut.

Great. He placed his hat back on his head as he went through his phone to pull up Adrien’s number. He didn’t doubt that Nathalie had already tried calling him, however that didn’t stop him from trying. Adrien would be less likely to ignore a call from him, after all.

Nino turned to lean his back against his car as he pressed his phone to his ear once again. Just as he was taking a deep breath, it caught in his throat, hearing another familiar tune.

He immediately straightened up, looking around for what he knew was Adrien’s ringtone for Nino. His brows furrowed together in his search of the sound.

It didn’t seem to be coming from anyone nearby… in fact… was it?

His eyes slowly traced the building up, up, up until they finally landed on what looked to be the cuff of a pair of pants just hanging off the edge of the roof of the coffee shop.

He swore.

Ending the call and slipping his phone back into his pocket, Nino made his way around, looking for a way up to the rooftops. After a few more turns than he was expecting, he finally found a fire escape attached to one of the nearby businesses. 

He stared at the little bag of pastries and the coffee cup in his hands for a moment before setting them aside in favor of pulling down the ladder that would allow him to climb up. The empty pile of clothes he found upon making it to the appropriate rooftop did not surprise Nino.

He sighed. This was going to be a long day.

*****

Adrien was resigned to his fate: Nino was going to kill him.

He’d realized that the instant he heard the tell tale ringtone that signaled Nathalie calling him. He also knew that, however Nino decided to handle it, he’d only be doing what he thought was best. So, no matter how this all turned out, things would ultimately be fine. 

He had absolute faith in his best friend. 

And while he was aware that it would make Nino’s life so much easier if he’d followed after him, Adrien just couldn’t bring himself to do so. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but something in his heart kept him here. There was something about this place that he couldn’t seem to resist. He wasn’t ready to leave yet. 

The little black cat made its way around the café while keeping himself well aware of the owners and the patrons, alike. He didn't want to be discovered, lest he be thrown out. The sights, sounds and smells did wonders to hold his attention all day. Whether he was roaming around or perched in a temporary hiding spot, he had to admit to himself, he was enjoying his time here. 

As he watched the two women go about their day, he couldn't help but notice the way they interacted with both each other and their customers. And what he found intrigued him. 

They didn’t flirt with anyone else, really. There were the occasional winks or comments, mostly from the brunette. But nothing like what they unleashed as a pair on Nino.

The man had not been exaggerating when he said that they were merciless in their flirting with him. It had been a treat to witness and something that Adrien planned to tease him about for the rest of his life. 

Another interesting thing was that it was also apparent that they acted the same way with each other, but it was even worse. They weren't exactly subtle with their casual touches and flirtatious whispers. In fact, it was rather entertaining to watch as the one he knew to be Alya repeatedly made her counterpart blush. 

“That’s it,” he heard Marinette say with a stubborn note to her tone, her cheeks flushed for the tenth time that day, “You're going home.”

“Aww,” Alya teased, a smirk playing at her lips, “I was having fun.”

Marinette rolled her eyes as she walked around Alya in order to untie the bow that held the other woman’s apron in place, pulling it over her head once that was done.

“Please,” she said sarcastically, “You've been working me to send you home all day.”

Alya watched Marinette hang the apron on it’s appropriate hook with a sly grin. “True…” She all but closed the distance between her and Marinette. 

These women didn't seem to have the concept of personal space. She waited for Marinette to face her, completely undisturbed by the proximity. 

Adrien tilted his head in curiosity, his tail twitching beside him in his perch. A part of him felt guilty that he might be intruding on what felt like a very personal moment between the women, but he just couldn't bring himself to look away.

“But,” Alya continued, “I made sure to pace myself so you wouldn't send me home too early.”

Marinette snickered before pushing Alya away with a finger to her nose. “Go,” she said, “get set up for movie night. I expect dinner when I get home.”

Alya nipped at the offending appendage, smirking when answered with squeak. She then kissed Marinette's cheek before turning and gathering her coat and keys. As she made her way to the kitchen’s back door, she waved over her shoulder with a refusal to make any promises.

Adrien’s eyes widened as the whole day clicked into place. If he was being honest, he could smack himself with how obvious it all should have been. What was it that Nino had said about him and his dad…?

Wait… If they were in a relationship, why were they flirting with Nino as much as they did? Considering the display they put on this morning, and assuming that's how it was every morning, they had to know the effect they had on him… didn't they? But if they did know, then what did that mean?

He watched as Marinette stood there for a moment staring after the other woman. When she turned back with an amused shake of her head, there was a light dusting of pink across her nose. 

Curious.

*****

A few hours later, the last of the customers left the little cafe and Marinette followed behind them to lock the front door, wishing them a wonderful evening and flipping the open sign to closed. Once she was alone, she paused to look around the empty space and started her cleaning routine for the night.

As she was finishing up, Adrien realized that now would probably be a good time to reveal his presence. He was aware that he might be able to sneak out as she left, but it was unlikely to not be caught, for one. For two, he still wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye yet. 

He moved around the counter where she was just turning from to go to the kitchen. When she saw movement from the corner of her eye, she jumped, startled at the presence of another in her little cafe. She braced herself on the counter to keep from falling.

Adrien’s tail swished behind him as he couldn’t help the amusement combined with a little guilt for having scared her that rose in his chest. After a moment she sank to the floor, a hand held against her chest, taking  a deep breath before turning to the little black cat waiting patiently for her to address him.

“Where did you come from, little guy?” she finally asked, holding her hand out to him. 

With that invitation, he moved forward to sniff at her fingers. He knew her scent already, having spent all day following her and Alya around. It had taken some time to pick out their scents among all baked goods and the coffee, not to mention the customers. 

However, when his nose bumped against her and he took in the smell that was purely her own, he could feel his heart swell. 

This.

This was what had kept him here all day. 

Adrien immediately started purring and rubbed his face against her knuckles. She obligingly closed her hand until he let up the pressure. Before she could do much else, he had moved to her lap and stood tall, using the front of her shoulder as a brace so he could reach her face.

“Oh my,” she giggled, “You’re a friendly one aren’t you?” Marinette lowered her head to give him better access as she reached up to pet his back and scratch at his neck.

In response, his purr increased in volume, allowing himself to get lost in her smell and her touch. 

“How did you get in here?” Marinette pulled away just enough to look at him again. 

He was just now opening his striking green eyes to watch her once again. She hadn’t realized that he had closed them. And looking into them now, a thought suddenly struck her. 

When did he get in here?

She hooked her hands under his ribs and picked him up so she could stand. Once she was up, she held Adrien to her chest and resumed her original path before her little discovery. She pulled out an open bottle of cream and a small dish.

Adrien perked up in her arms, watching intently as she poured just a little of the heavenly substance into the dish and set it on the floor for him. The moment his feet touched the floor, he moved up and just before he dove in he stopped short to chirp his thanks at her.

She giggled again and ran a hand down his back. 

“You’re welcome, little guy.” 

Marinette stood, leaning her hip against the counter and tapped her chin. After a moment, she pulled out her phone to send a text. Then leaned back down to a squatting position, only for Adrien to race over and rub his side against her shins. She reached over to scratch behind his ear.

“Hey, how would you like to come home with me tonight?” 

Hearing this, his head perked up. He jumped into her lap and chirped happily at her. Warmth spread through his chest at the giggle that escaped her once again. 

He liked that sound. 

Picking up the now empty dish, Marinette stood to wash it before turning to pull on her coat and grab her purse. Then she pulled on a set of earmuffs and gloves.

Looking at her all bundled up in winter gear, he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from her. 

She. Was. Adorable.

The coat’s red wool stopped just above her knees, hugging in all the right places and flaring out slightly at her hips. A black belt was tied in the back instead of wrapping around the front. The lower hem, mandarin collar and cuffs were lined with what looked like black fur. The coat itself was very sleek in its design with no buttons or pockets to be seen. The zipper that held it closed was sturdy, but unassuming and well hidden among the fur collar. 

The red earmuffs brought out the blue tint to her midnight hair, pulled up in a messy top bun. And her red gloves, black leggings and cute, fur lined boots completed the look perfectly.

When she finally turned to him and leaned down to invite him into her arms, it took him a second to bring himself to move. He was hypnotised. 

Seeing him stare at her, she smiled and stood up. 

“What do you think?” she asked, spinning around to model for him. “I made it myself.” 

If a cat could blush, he definitely would have been doing just that. He was impressed to say the least. 

He finally moved up to her and let her pick him up once again, they left the little cafe.

Marinette set him down in her car and after plugging her phone in to start charging, they set off to a nearby grocery store. 

“I’ll be right back, Little Guy. I just need to pick up some ice cream and a few other things.” And with that, she was off. 

Left alone in the car, Adrien reflected on his day. Eventually, his mind wandered to his best friend, and a bubble of guilt rose in him. That was when he noticed that Marinette had left her phone with him. 

Quickly, he checked to make sure no one was nearby when he shifted to his human form and grabbed the phone.

It only rang once before the line picked up.

“Lahiffe.” Adrien flinched a little at the all-business tone his friend used. He was unused to it being used on him and he had to remind himself that he wasn’t using his own phone.

“Nino, I can explain.” He had to stop at the sound of a breath being released on the other end of the line.

“You went for a run this morning and ended up at The LadyBlogger Café and you just couldn’t help yourself, so you shifted into a cat and went in.” 

There was a beat of silence before, “You found my clothes on the roof.”

“Yeah, man. I found your clothes on the roof.” Nino paused. Adrien could just picture him removing his hat to run a hand through his hair. “You do know I’m in real hot water here, right?”

“I’m sorry, Nino,” Adrien said, checking his surroundings once again to make sure Marinette wasn’t back yet. “Listen, I don’t have much time. I just wanted to let you know that I’m okay and I should be back tomorrow.”

“...Wait,” His best friend’s voice suddenly sounded much more alert. “Where are you now?”

“I’m… uh… currently sitting in Marinette’s car waiting for her to return from the grocery store.”

There was another pause.

“Does she know you’re anything besides a normal house cat?”

Adrien smirked as he checked the windows again. “You mean besides a super friendly house cat?”

The phone went so silent that Adrien had to check if the line had disconnected.

It had not.

When he placed the phone by his ear again, he could hear movement on the other side.

“Right,” came Nino’s tired voice, “We’ll talk more tomorrow.” He paused. “And Adrien.”

“Yeah?” The guilt Adrien had felt earlier tripled.

“Take care. And don’t reveal yourself. My job is hard enough right now without bringing Nonmagics into all this.”

“I won’t. And thanks Nino. Seriously, I really appreciate it.”

“You got it, Dude.” Nino laughed a little. “Just don’t make a habit of this. I can only handle so much Grumpy Gabe.”

Adrien laughed at that, asking, “Is there any other kind?”

He was rewarded with the sound of Nino’s chuckle. “Later, Man.”

“Later.” Adrien looked at the phone and tapped the red button, ending the call. Then he went in and deleted it from Marinette’s call history before setting the phone down where Marinette had left it.

With that done, He shifted back into the little black cat that Marinette was expecting.

When she got back, Adrien watched as she placed a couple of bags on the passenger side floor. She reached over to scratch his head in greeting before buckling herself in and starting the car.

Adrien found himself watching their path through the window, committing this journey to memory. Nino had asked him to not make a habit out of today, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t still visit.

It didn’t take long for them to arrive at their destination. Once parked, Marinette got out and rounded the little car. She opened the passenger side door and grabbed the groceries in one hand. Adrien went to her, making it easy for her to pick him up, when she called for him.

As she straightened, he decided that it would be easiest for her if she had at least one hand free to open her front door. So, he climbed up to rest over her shoulder, causing her to giggle once more.

“I’m home,” Marinette called once she was inside. She set to pull three bowls from the cupboards: two for the ice cream she had bought and one small enough for a can of tuna.

“What took you so long, Girl? Movie night was about to start without you.” Adrien could hear Alya’s voice coming from the other room.

Marinette opened the can of tuna and as the scent hit him, he realized that he hadn’t had anything to eat all day. Having gone out to run long before anyone would think to send breakfast up to his room.

The smell of fish consumed him and he happily jumped down from Marinette’s shoulder, stopping just long enough to press against her leg and sound his thanks.

She reached down to pet him, giggling at his antics.

“You’re very welcome,” she muttered to him before turning to fill the larger bowls with ice cream.

He had stopped paying attention to the conversation between the two women the moment the concept of food had occurred to him, thought he was fairly certain that he had heard the word “surprise” mentioned somewhere.

It didn’t take long for him to eat the tuna that had been set out and once finished, he turned to find Marinette returning to the kitchen.

“Hold on. Don’t get up,” she was saying.

“Too late,” Alya stated, her voice moving closer, “I’m up!”

“Alya!” Marinette laughed, pushing her girlfriend out of sight. “Wait! You’re going to ruin it!”

Alya huffed and seemed to stop pushing.

“Close your eyes,” Marinette demanded, trying to stifle another giggle.

Alya let out a long and dramatic groan before she started almost whining, “Mari, hurry up!”

Adrien rounded the corner to join them just in time to see Alya drop her head back impatiently. As he approached them, he rubbed against Marinette’s now bare ankles to let her know that he was there.

“Okay, okay” she said, “One sec.” She reached down to pick him up again.

It was amusing to Adrien to see the suspicious expression on Alya’s face as Marinette took the other woman’s hand in her own and guided it to his neck, encouraging her to pet him. Her eyes snapped open and lit up at the sight of the little black cat. Then she looked up at her girlfriend.

“He’s adorable. It is a ‘he’ right?” She bent her head as if she wanted to check but decided against it at the last second.

“Yes, he’s a ‘he’.” Marinette laughed again. “I’d say ‘boy’ but that seems a little young to me.” She pressed her face to him, causing him to purr even louder than he had been before.

Alya chuckled. “I think he likes you. Where did you find him?”

“At the cafe. He revealed himself to me just as I was about to head out.” The two of them started moving to the living room to make themselves comfortable in the mountain of blankets on the couch. “I think he may have gotten in with one of the customers and, just,” she paused to adjust herself, “never left.”

Once settled, Alya had her feet propped up on the coffee table, Marinette was leaning on her right side with her legs curled under her and Adrien was placed between them, so they could both enjoy his company.

“Huh, I wonder if he belongs to someone…” Alya mused, scratching under his chin. She suddenly smiled, and, to Adrien’s surprise, booped his nose. “In the meantime, do I get to name him?”

Marinette glanced at her girlfriend sideways before saying, “I think that would depend on the name…”

Alya hummed thoughtfully for a moment, watching as Adrien blinked, then proceeded to clean his face. “What about… Plagg?”

Adrien paused to look at Alya. Judging by the look on her face, he couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. He couldn’t help but hope she was. He really didn’t want to be called ‘Plagg’.

“What?” came Marinette’s response, “That’s a terrible name for him. Maybe for, like, a grumpy cat or something. Not for someone as friendly as this little guy.”

Thank you.

Adrien resumed cleaning his face. If he were to choose a name for himself, it would have to be something like Ch-

“How about Chat Noir?” Marinette asked. 

Adrien froze mid-lick to his paw and blinked. 

Did she just…? Did I just…? 

He slowly returned his paw to the blanket and started watching Marinette. She was looking up at Alya as the latter mulled over the suggested name.

Alya was watching him as she tested the name, before saying to Marinette, “Well, it's not very imaginative, but I guess it works. I think he likes it anyways. He hasn't stopped looking at you since you said it.” She reached over to rub his ear.

Adrien couldn't help but close his eyes contentedly at the gesture, causing Marinette to giggle at him before suggesting they start movie night. 

It was then that both of the young women settled further into their mountain of blankets, hit play and began eating their ice cream. Adrien made himself more comfortable in the blankets and snuggling closer. 

As the movie went on, Adrien paid little attention to it. The warmth and happiness in this room was intoxicating. He couldn’t resist letting himself be lost in it, lost in the heavenly scents that surrounded him, lost in the cuddles that he was so unaccustomed to receiving. He was content to just stay here, in this moment.

He didn't notice when he started squirming in his spot. He didn't notice when it was that he started feeling a little overheated. Or when Marinette’s attention had turned to him over the movie.

What he did notice was the note of curiosity in Marinette’s voice when she spoke.

“Hey, Alya?”

“Yeah?” Alya’s attention was still on the movie. When he opened his eyes to look at her, her cheeks were slightly flushed. It was then that he heard a seductive moan coming from the television. He vaguely wondered what movie was playing.

His eyes turned to Marinette when she spoke again.

“When do cats go into heat?” She was looking at him, her head just tilted to one side.

What? Why would she ask that?

“Beats the hell outta me,” Alya muttered, still entranced by the scene playing before her. “God, they’re so hot.” She absentmindedly moved to pet Adrien, curling her fingers to half massage his side.

Marinette pulled out her phone and started looking something up. 

Distracted by the gentle petting, Adrien moved his head to better smell the hand that treated him so, licking it to show his approval, his purr almost deafening to his own ears.

It was a few minutes before Marinette spoke up again. When she did she sounded rather intrigued.

“Huh...” she said, still looking at her phone. 

“What?” Alya asked, still gently massaging the squirming cat between them.

“Well, apparently male cats don't go into heat.”

Adrien’s attention snapped to Marinette once again. He narrowed his eyes at her, wondering why she needed to know this information. And what had gotten her so curious about it? Did she think there was something going on with him? That didn’t make any sense...

“What do you mean? Of course they do,” Alya responded, her attention still wrapped up in the movie they had been watching.

“No,” Marinette said, “Apparently, they respond to the scent of the females around them who are in heat.” 

There was silence.

Adrien stilled as the implications of Marinette’s discovery occurred to him. It was in this moment that he noticed that his breathing had been heavier, and just what he may have been doing while he was squirming…

And if his behavior had made Marinette curious to look it up….

Oh…

Oh no...

Alya’s ministrations on his side stopped as she slowly turned to stare at her girlfriend, letting the information set in. When Marinette finally moved to look at her with a raised eyebrow, Alya locked eyes with her. 

Before anyone knew what was happening, Alya was on her feet and moving around the couch, knocking Marinette off balance. Her shoulders were tense, raised up near her ears as she stated, “No.”

Marinette straightened herself on the couch where she’d fallen into the now empty seat beside her, catching Adrien before she accidentally shoved him off of the couch completely. The two of them looked at each other before turning toward Alya.

“No,” she said again, her voice raising in pitch. “No. No. No, no, no.” She narrowed her eyes, righteous fury burning behind the near-golden color. 

Adrien’s heart steadily climbed into his throat.

“Absolutely not!” This time her voice raised an octave as she pointed an accusatory finger in his direction. 

A small part of his mind hoped that he could be mistaken and that she was actually pointing a Marinette… but if he was honest with himself… He knew that was not the case. He was still trying to put all the pieces together through his shock when Alya finally just gave him the answer.

“I am not fucking the cat!”

____

If you like what I do, Buy me a Kofi

If you’d like to Commission me to write you a drabble, here are the details. 

[chatnoirismycinnamonroll]

Only Human: Akuma! Marinette AU (part 3)

Disclaimer: I dont own, and never will I even come close to owning, either Miraculous or Christina Perri's song Only Human.

Tikki raced through the now silent hallways towards her chosen's classroom. She had been trapped in Marinette's purse, held down by the mist, and was only just able to get out. Like everybody else in the school, she had been able to see everything Only Human had shown her classmates. She felt her pain, her sorrow, her anxiety and stress at having to pretend that everything was fine when it wasnt.

Tikki sighed. She knew she shouldn't have held Marinette back from telling someone her identity for so long. All of that accumulated stress had been bound to be released sometime. And boy, what a release it was. Plagg must be so happy at the destruction she knew Marinette had left in her wake.

But, honestly, Tikki couldnt blame her. The way Marinette's "friends" had cornered her chosen in the bathroom had left Tikki piping mad, and if she ever saw them again, identity or not, Tikki was going to give them a piece of her mind. Anyone who thought Plagg was hell to live with had nothing on an angry Tikki. He may be the god of destruction and bad luck, but she was the goddess of creation and luck. You piss her off, and you might just get a new hole in your along with having your good luck run out.

Whoever said cats were the protective ones were highly mistaken.

Marinette sighed. She kept her eyes on the butterfly until she could no longer see it. She didnt want to face her classmates right now, especially since she could remember everything she had done as an akuma. She could remember making Lila bite her own tongue hard enough to bleed. She could remember lifting her and Alya up and slamming them into the ground. She could remember every image she made them see, every memory that she knew would make them feel guilty for treating her the way they had. And she didnt feel any better for it. She had hurt Chat Noir. She had blasted him into the wall with enough force to leave him dazed, when all he was trying to do was help her.

She also knew that she had had no control of herself. She had unwillingly let Hawkmoth push himself past her grief and into her mind. He had used her memories as leverage over her classmates, her....

She couldnt exactly call them friends now, could she? Not really. She looked up at them, seeing Rose and Mylene help Alix out from under a bookshelf and pull her towards Lila, who was still bleeding from her mouth and staring at Marinette with a frightened but hateful stare. Alya was sobbing and Nino was co.forting her, and Marinette's heart gave a lurch as they didnt approach her to see if she was okay, like she did with them after they got akumatized.

She forced herself to look away, forced herself to stand up and ignore their frightened gasps. She couldnt focus on them at the moment. She had to find Tikki so she could reverse her damage, and then she could head home and hopefully nobody would question why Ladybug got there late-

And suddenly there was a red kwami snuggling up to her cheek. She was standing at the front of the classroom, covered in dust and bruises, her hands cut and burnt a little from the struggle of tearing her own akumatized item, her classmates staging her, and her kwami was nuzzling her cheek and crying tears of relief.

"Tikki? Um..."

"Oh, Marinette, you're alright! I was so worried! I tried to prevent the akuma from getting to you, but I failed. I'm so sorry, Marinette. I was supposed to protect you, and you got akumatized anyway." Tikki lamented, tears leaking out of her big blue eyes as she stared up at her sweet, strong, beautiful chosen.

Marinette smiled, accepting that Tikki was giving her identity away because she was obviously going to say something important. "It's alright, Tikki. It wasnt your fault I got akumatized, it was Hawkmoth's. I remember everything, unfortunately, but I do remember that I never said the words. I never accepted his offer of akumatization. He forced his akuma onto me, Tikki. You tried to save me, but he was the one who took advantage of my emotions. Dont ever blame yourself for this, Tikki." Marinette held Tikki in her hands and kissed her forehead, nuzzling the cute being with her nose, getting a giggle out of her.

"You're the best kwami I could ever ask for."

"So it is a kwami."

Marinette looked up, finally acknowledging the others. Chat stood in front of her, staring down at her with several emotions in his eyes. She couldnt tell which was stronger at the moment. She could see the wheels turning in his head, and she knew the instant it clicked for him.

"You.... you're...!"

"A KWAMI? How did you get a kwami, Marinette? You're a superhero? And you never told me?" Alya said, her tears dying down as her eyes narrowed in astonishment and disbelief.

Marinette gulped, not exactly ready to face her classmates just yet. "I... um.. I...."

"She had no reason to tell you, Alya Cesaire. You should know all too well why that is."

Everyone stared down at the little red kwami, who had a serious look on her face that looked oddly intimidating for such a small creature.

Chat gulped, but kept his eyes on Marinette's as he shakingly whispered, "My Lady?" His anger towards his classmates rose further when Marinette nodded tensely, her arms folded and head bowed in a clear, protective manner. Oh, it was on. That did it. The entire class was gonna get a new one ripped into them. Nobody hurt his Lady, especially if she was also his Princess.

He glared at the class and stepped forward, ready to yell at them when a tiny red hand stopped him.

"Dont. You take care of Marinette. I'll take care of her so called friends." Tikki said, her blue eyes glinting dangerously. Chat nodded, turning to head towards Marinette, but his transformation suddenly dropping stopped him in his tracks. Everyone gasped as Adrie. was revealed, and they snapped out of whatever stupor they were in and began to yell, demanding answers from both him and Marinette.

He felt cornered and overwhelmed as they began to doubt him. How could he, Adrien Agreste, possibly be Chat Noir? They were nothing alike! Why didnt he tell them? Was this the only secret he kept from them? Did Marinette know? Why were they keeping secrets? What else did they have to hide?

He backed up until he felt a hand slipping into his, and Marinette looked up at him with reassuring bluebell eyes. He relaxed immediately. How could he not see his lady in her? He should have realized it the moment he called her his everyday Ladybug. He knew there was a reason he was so attracted to Marinette. There was a reason why Ladybug's rare flailings and nervousness so often struck him as familiar and adorable. Now that he thought about it, there wasnt anybody else who could possibly be Ladybug.

He held her hand tightly as the noise got louder and their classmates slowly came out from under the rubble to yell more things at them, and just when he thought he couldnt take it anymore-

"SILENCE!"

Everybody froze. They stared at the glowing red kwami as her eyes flashed with anger. "How dare you all demand answers from her after what you've done to her?! Marinette is not some toy you can just drop once shes no longer of use to you. Shes not some servant you can call upon whenever you want something. She's not some emotionless robot who you can order around and expect her to follow orders without any single input or objection. Shes a human being, just like you! So sit down, shut up, and show her the respect she deserves for having put up with you all for so long or so help me I'll make sure none of you ever have a good day ever again."

The silence that followed was deafening. Everybody slowly sat down amongst the rubble and stared fearfully at the tiny goddess.

The silence was broken by a cackle, and the little black kwami that had come out of Adrien's ring slowly floated his way towards his other half.

"Oh, oh, sugar cube, you're gonna make me split in two. I cant wait to hear what sorts of things you need to say to these ungrateful morons." His laughing suddenly stopped, and he looked at the class with narrowed eyes, his black form a almost a shadow, the only things visible on him were the two glowing green slits of his eyes. "I too would like to see them properly punished for almost destroying Paris by literally akumatizing the only other person who keeps them safe on a daily basis. So if you need a little bad luck on your side, dont hesitate to call me up, sweet cheeks."

Tikki smiled at him, before her eyes turned serious again and she glared at the girls. "First of all, I'd like to say I am very disappointed in all of you. You had no right to just turn your backs on Marinette, especially after everything she has done for you without complaint. I cant believe one little girl's lies are enough to fool you, and they weren't even GOOD lies!!"

Tikki's little antenna began to sway in her anger. "Max!" He jumped, his glasses slightly skipping from his nose. "You're supposed to be the smartest boy in the school. Tell me, how was a rolled up, thin, paper napkin going to gouge your eye out when 1) it was rolled up into a tight ball, 2) headed towards Lila's hand, which was level with your stomach, and 3) your eyes were safely covered by your glasses? Tell me, how?"

Max looked down in shame, having figured that out at some time during the attack. Tikki shook her head and moved onto the next person. "Alya. You've called yourself Marinette's best friend, but you sure didnt act like it at all today. Best friends have each others backs. They trust each other and always listen to each other. This isn't the first time you've disregarded Marinette's words and facts as nothing but jealousy. Not only that, but you chose your boyfriend over your best friend. You didnt protest moving Marinette out of a chair she worked so hard to keep all year, and you didnt even give her the benefit of the doubt when she tried to warn you about Lila's lies."

Tikki began to slowly vibrate in her anger, a low buzz filling the room.

"And then, you have the audacity to te her to show you proof of Lila's lies when you yourself have no proof that what Lila is saying is true. You could have fact checked with Ladybug about being Lila's friend. You could have asked Marinette to ask Jagged Stone if he ever had a kitten. You could have looked up half the things Lila has said on Google and figured out that NONE OF THEM WERE TRUE. And then- and then-!"

Tikki stopped talking as her body glowed to a deep angry red, the black.of her spots looking more like the dark, empty void of space than the sweet, adorable, chocolate chip looking spots Marinette often told her they looked like.

"Sugar Cube?"

"And then, you dared tell her that she was wrong to be angry. That she was wrong to have treated Lila so "mean" when she hadn't been mean at all. You told her it was wrong of her to question Lila and then dared demand her to apologize before then telling her to keep away from you until she did. You ditched your best friend for a new girl, a stranger, with outlandish and interesting stories. I guess Marinette was wrong to have trusted you the way she did, didnt she, little fox?"

Alya reeled back, her eyes back to streaming tears. "I'm sor-"

"Dont. You haven't thought about your actions. Not really. You're not completely sorry, so dont apologize just yet."

Alya quieted down, her sobs silently shaking her frame as she leant against Nino, her thoughts finally calm enough for her to properly analyze them.

Tikki moved on, glaring at the other girls. "And you all. Mylene, Rose, Alix. Marinette has been nothing but kind to you. She has helped every single one of you with something personal. With something important. Both as herself and as Ladybug. And the one moment she makes a mistake, you make her out to be a monster. You, Mylene, know that Marinette wouldn't do anything out of jealousy, especially not after what she did with Kagami and Adrien." Mylene hung her head in shame.

"Rose, you called Marinette the everyday Ladybug, but you had no right to detract your words in such a way. Ladybug makes mistakes too, and you basically told Marinette that since Ladybug is perfect, Marinette couldn't be Ladybug because she wasn't perfect. You faulted her for feeling betrayed and insulted and for showing her emotions. And you had absolutely no right to do that." Rose let a few tears fall as she remembered her uncharacteristic behaviour.

Alix looked at the kwami in shame, knowing what Tikki was going to say. "Alix, dont you ever call Marinette selfish again. And dont ever fault her if she decides to act selfishly for once. I honestly think she can afford to be just a little more selfish sometimes, especially to get the boy of her dreams."

Tikki was back to her normal hue, and her anger turned to disappointment. "You all were pretty despicable today. I could not believe this behaviour from you. I expect much better from all of you."

The class hung their heads, all except Lila. Tikki stared at Lila blankly before moving back towards Marinette.

"Wait, what about Lila?" Adrien protested. He stood up and glared at the little liar. "Shes been spreading lies about both Marinette and herself all day. Shes the reason why everyone is mad at My Lady in the first place. Shouldn't she be lectured and punished as well?"

Tikki stopped her advance towards Marinette. She styled floating in the air for several seconds, before turning back and smiling at Adrien. Adrien instinctively stepped back from that smile.

"Don't worry, Adrien. Lila's been cursed since before I entered the room." Her smile switched from Adrien towards Lila, who stared back with frightened eyes. "I'm very protective of my Ladybugs."

@drarrylover007 @mindfulmagics

[solaetis-moved-blog]

CASTER (MEDEA) HEADCANON AND PORTRAYAL SUMMARY DUMP

Just a rundown of all the myth & canon interpretations I follow! I do not stick with one version alone. I mix them and take what for me makes the most sense for the character of Medea that I know of.

For Fate/Stay Night roleplayers, I can write her in any route. I will go along the with the route of your muse 'cause I'm flexible like that. I can play her at any canon point in Fate/Hollow Ataraxia as well.

For Fate/Grand Order roleplayers, all routes in Fate/Stay Night are sort of canon for my Medea. This doesn't mean all of it happened to this specific incarnation, just that she has recollections of all the events that transpired during the fifth war including the bad endings.

More info below!

She learned Magecraft through the Moon Goddess Hecate and from her aunt the Goddess Circe, who was also a disciple of Hecate.

She was very close to Circe and respects and admires her in great amounts and was always her ideal vision of a true witch.

Medea, in truth, is not really a witch. She is skilled in Magecraft, but it did not make her one. Her title as a witch is only granted to her as an attempt to berate and demean her for having magic powers.

She was cursed by Aphrodite to fall in love with Jason under Hera’s orders.

She was very to devoted to the Greek Gods despite not being Greek herself which earned her a place in Elysium where she was said to have eventually married Achilles. She has no memories of her life in Elysium as a Servant.

Medea is Colchian and not Greek. This makes her an Asian woman. 

She has utmost respect towards Heracles for the time she spent with him and the Argonauts. He also gave her a place to stay when she had nowhere else to go in exchange of healing Hera's curse upon him.

Because Medea was not Greek, she was often shunned, if not envied, by those around her. After Jason, there was nowhere she could return to. There was no place left that will accept her.

Theseus was with the Argonauts, but he was young at that time and Medea did not recognize him when they met once again, this time in Athens and she became Aegeus' wife.

Aegeus didn't know that Theseus was his son and wanted him dead for his powers were a threat to Aegeus' position as a King. For Medea, who bore him a son, Aegeus learning Theseus' birth right was a threat to her son Medus.

Medea tried to poison Theseus after he returned successful in his quest to capture the Marathonian Bull. But Aegeus' realized that Theseus was his son due to his sword and sandals and knocked back the cup of poisoned wine. Medea fled afterwards with Medus.

There is no consistent depiction of how Medea's life has ended, so I have mixed some interpretations I've read.

When Medea fled Athens, her son Medus was exiled and he returned to Colchis only to find out that King Aeetes was murdered by his brother.

Medus was then captured by King Perses so that there was no one who could challenge his claim to the throne. Medea, having heard this, returned to Colchis to free her son. She deceived Perses and made Medus the King. She died of old age, grieving still.

My Medea did not kill her children. The Corinthians killed her children, but because she found the bodies first and have been caught by Jason holding them, she was accused of their murder.

Her Fate incarnation knows that she killed them to hurt Jason as a result of her lore being bastardized, but she has no recollections of doing so. She simply believes this because it's what's installed in her Spirit Origin.

Her hatred is not restricted to Jason alone, but towards the world who had betrayed her without an end. Still, majority of her agony is a product of his actions.

My interpretation of Medea is heavily focused on this. It plays a huge role in how I write her, so she's not as chill as she is in canon.

Medea's hatred towards Aphrodite and Jason is clear.

Being told that she was coerced to fall in love with Jason mocks her for it was the only thing she had left of value. She also believes it takes away the responsibility behind the cruel acts she made because of her love for him.

If Medea has to acknowledge that she fell in love with Jason because of Aphrodite, that would mean that she cannot take responsibility for her crimes. So she does not, for she knows to herself that she committed vile acts of her own volition.

Her acknowledging her crimes and knowing it is wrong is her only proof that her love for Jason was real and not manipulated through celestial means. She did them because she wanted to be useful and she truthfully loved him.

My Medea despises Berserker!Heracles because his existence disrespects the hero that he used to be. She thinks he is nothing but a pile of muscle with a face and wants nothing to do with him.

She doesn't acknowledge Jason, Achilles & Perseus as heroes.

She dislikes socializing with men in general, especially the handsome, cunning and eloquent ones. She has learned first hand that sophisticated men aren't to be trusted.

I'm a slut for Medea/Kuzuki, Medea/Women & Medea/Respectful Master. 

She helped Jason steal the Golden Fleece in exchange of him agreeing to marry her and he did.

She left Colchis with the Argonauts alongside her brother Apsyrtus, which she cut to pieces and scattered his flesh into the seas to delay the pursuit of her father King Aeetes.

Medea's room in Chaldea is dark and brooding with no signs of modern technology. Even her door can only be opened by dispelling the field that surrounds it. She has various skeleton pets inside of her room that she uses to help her in certain activities such as Myrmekes as cleaners, Alectryon as an alarm clock, Crows for water fetching etc.

Medea named her skeleton creatures after her family members from Colchis as a way to help her cope with the fact that she can never return to them anymore. So when she returns to her room, it signifies "coming home". This is why she considers her room sacred. Should one be given the permission to enter her room in Chaldea, know that it is a heightened level of intimacy for her. Invading it, however, is a high grade insult and thoroughly offensive. She will hate you for it.

Medea makes tea brews that she only shares to a few people. Each are named after certain ties she had in life such as Golden Fleece, Argonautica etc. They range in hundreds that she displays on a large cabinet.

In Fate verse, Atalante was indeed with the Argonauts, making Medea and Atalante the only women to ride the Argo Ship. They've had a very genuine friendship, but parted ways afterwards, Whether or not Atalante retained her respect to Medea when things went downhill is unknown.

SOME RANDOM RAMBLINGS

since erika and i are talking about it... remember when i said that medea's wish is to go home? and her idea of going home is simply not returning to specifically to colchis but to possibly revert the life she had when she decided to leave so medea's idea of "going home" is returning to the time wherein she was still princess of colchis and she never left. if she never left, her relationship with her family will not be compromised. she would have avoided a large scale of tragedy. medea dies as an ambitionless old woman in my interpretation. she had spent her remaining dies waking up, sleeping, monotonously doing her everyday routine. in her every revenge completed, a part of her dies, and she has died completely when everything was over and done with. she wants to use the grail for that. to return to the time where she was most content with herself. as a servant she's incarnated with her hatred of the world being her only pillar to keep on going. medea wants to be a normal person so she's desperate for the grail.

if i have to explain medea's feelings towards aphrodite, eros and hera it's really all too simple? she lamented that they have had a hand in her suffering but medea knows the workings of the gods and there's no law which states that they have to be fair in the first place. one man would wish something from the gods, and another would wish for something which opposes the other. it's always a matter of having to choose who deserves their assistance more and medea accepted that the three favored jason more because he prayed to them the same way hecate, circe and zeus favored her because her prayers for them were stronger and they were medea's revered gods. so yes, medea hates being a tool for gods' entertainment, but not to the point wherein she'd kill one because she still respects them to some degree

[bbq-hawks-wings]

Hello friend! I just went to a wedding and it was incredibly beautiful! So I was wondering if you could make a scenario of hawks getting married to his female s/o? This was my first time sending a request so I hope I did it correctly! Thank you and have a nice day! :)

This man makes me w e a k, and don’t worry anon, you nailed it.

I’ve always wanted to plan a wedding and see it play out. Maybe someday I will for real. Done, anon. (P.S. If you want an idea of where I got the color pallet in this chapter, may I draw your attention to my favorite ring in the world.)

The day he had asked you to marry him and you said yes was the happiest day of his life. He had spent time getting to know you, opening up and being truly vulnerable for the very first time, and you had never done anything but give and give and love him. He would rope the stars and the moon if you asked him, and he wanted so badly to declare his love for you to the world. However, your relationship had remained quiet and out of the spotlight. Especially since you were actively avoiding the attention he had taken measures to keep your meetings clandestine, to keep your name and face out of the public eye. A watchful fan might be able to sense something amiss (he couldn’t escape the spotlight forever), but they never had enough to do anything but throw out mere theories.

He wanted to give you the biggest fairy tale wedding money could buy, and he wanted to invite the entire country, if not the world to watch; but he understood your reservations about it. For your safety, privacy, and peace of mind a small wedding was worth the price. As well for him, the fact that you knew he would hand you a blank check for whatever you wanted but you still tried to keep spending down because you didn’t want to treat him like an ATM made him fall even deeper in love with you whenever the subject came up. 

He agreed to whatever venue and theme you wanted on two conditions: one, let him order some custom wedding ring designs because he wouldn’t have his one of a kind girl wearing a piece that hundreds, maybe thousands, of other women were also wearing; and two, spare no expense with the dress! He knew that a wedding was mostly for the bride at the end of the day; and he wanted to let you feel like a princes- no, a QUEEN on your wedding day without worrying about the price tag. He told you that come what may, when it came to looking back the photos of him fawning over you in that dress would be able to give you happy memories whenever you needed them, and anytime the everyday stresses of the world dragged you down he wanted you to be able to look at that ring and let it remind you that you were like no one else in the world to him just like that little piece of jewelry.

The venue was small and private. Only both your immediate family and close friends - heroes, high school, or otherwise- were invited. Just trusted people who had known you were together to begin with. He didn’t bother to mention the event to his sponsors. He wanted them and their world as far separated from you and your new lives together as possible. They didn’t care anyway.

It was a small, chapel-like building. A few rows of pews on either side flanked the aisle which was laden with a soft, white carpet and red trim. White chiffon hung up on the walls and lined the inside of the pews with small bouquets of red roses, ferns, baby’s breath and tiny sprigs of acacia blossoms. It was dark outside, and the light in the hall danced and sparkled from the crystal chandeliers which allowed the stained glass windows to display their full range of color without distracting and taking from the scene inside. That alone was picture perfect as Hawks waited at the end of the aisle, proud of your planning but increasingly nervous for the upcoming ceremony.

You’d caught that he was self conscious about the color of his wings in your wedding photos - lamenting that they might distract others from how beautiful you were in that white dress. Red was a far more dominant color, he explained. White disappeared and took a seat next to it unless it was an accent color, and his wings were just too big to pass off as some kind of “fashion statement.” He even complained that even if they were white it would be more attention on him than he wanted. But you were clever - or at least you had clever hero support friends with a knack for design!

You had called on their expertise to tie in the concept of white and red mixing together and complimenting each other instead of fighting for dominance. They came up with a fantastic solution of tying in two other main colors - stunning pink gold and humble burnt umber - as intermediate accents and trim. His tuxedo consisted of a white jacket and trousers, red cummerbund and tie, with pink gold and satin brown trim lining the lapels, pleats on his shirt, and shiny gold buttons and wrist cuffs with modest brown shoes. Though he didn’t usually appreciate formal wear he felt really good when he put it on, feeling like his wings actually fit the design instead of distracting from it. He was just anxious to see if this was how you dressed him, what did YOU look like? Luckily after the hours of nervous pacing, anticipation, and anxious bouncing on his toes for the ceremony to start he would see.

The music played and all the guests rose as the doors at the front of the aisle gently parted for you to make your way down. The sight of you in that dress was beyond magnificent and took his breath away. 

You had taken him seriously when he asked you to go all out. The flowing white skirt of the ball gown possessed a gorgeously understated gold lace layer over it and fell around you gloriously, demanding room and reverence around you though your gait denoted a calm spirit unburdened by the gaze of others. The white bodice pulled in at your waist and gently flared out to a Bataeu neckline that was a perfect balance of alluring and elegant - the shoulders of which were red chiffon blending in perfectly with the red bead work on the bodice fading down to white, and in the center of the neckline sat a simple round brooch with a brown gem centerpiece, small white jewels around the edges in a rose gold setting. You wore a choker of gold with red and white rhinestones that draped across your otherwise bare shoulders and dipped down in an arch delicately. Your chapel length veil possessed gold and satin brown trim around the edges to mirror the ensemble of your groom, though the smallest of red and pink rhinestones hidden in the lace would sparkle and reflect an extra splash of color. It wasn’t immediately obvious from the front, but as you walked up the steps to stand next to your husband-to-be a bright streak of red ran from where there were the gaps in the shoulder straps on your back (a subtle set of wings as a nod to his nickname, “Angel,” for you Hawks would come to learn later), together into the waist of the bodice, and then in one demanding band of satin red in a dramatic flair all the way down the monarch train of your skirt where it bled off into the red, pink gold, and satin brown lining for the lace layer that would sweep up into the two side panels that met again in the front at the bodice, allowing the gold pattern to end spectacularly around you and leave the panel of pure white unblemished in front of you, tying back into the solid white part of the bodice.

He couldn’t tell by virtue of being absolutely star struck in the moment, but he very well almost cried at the sight of you. Like everything else, you blew his expectations out of the water. Whatever he gave you or asked of you you always managed to return to him two, five, or tenfold times beyond his wildest dreams. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you as you approached, sure that he was either going to wake from a dream or just drop dead from the overwhelming weight in his heart. He noticeably jumped when the minister spoke up at the end of the music. If not for the rehearsal the night before, he would have forgotten to turn shoulder to shoulder to you, though he wished mightily he could just stare into your eyes for the rest of eternity.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…” and the rest was lost on Hawks’ ears as he desperately tried to continue looking at you through the corner of his eye, which only made you blush and smile when you noticed. How the hell did you just manage to be even more beautiful than what he witnessed just now?! The ceremony continued on for both far too long and not long enough when he was finally broken out of his trance.

“(Y/N), will you have this man to be your husband; to live together with him in the covenant of marriage? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful unto him as long as you both shall live?”

“I will.” Your words were clear and even, though the way you blushed under your eyelashes as you looked to him betrayed the way your heart was racing.

The minister then addressed Hawks, “And will you have this woman to be your wife; to live together with her in the covenant of marriage? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful unto her as long as you both shall live?”

“I wi-Ihl-”  His voiced unintentionally cracked around the lump in his throat, and you could both hear a chuckle from the pews behind you. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I will.”

“With that, we would have the bride and groom exchange wedding vows and rings. May the ring bearer please come forth.”

Tokoyami had been incredibly surprised when Hawks had not only invited him to the wedding, but asked him to be the ring-bearer. The experience he had gained during his internship he had considered generous enough, but to think Hawks could have taken enough of a liking to him for this honor was beyond him. Reverently approaching from his place to stand next to the both of you, he offered your ring to Hawks with respect and Dark Shadow offered his to you with excitement before they both returned to their spot.

“Sir, please take (Y/N)’s left hand and repeat after me.

“In the sight of all these witnesses, I, (state your name), take you, (Y/N), to be my wife,”

He repeated in kind back and forth until they reached the end.

“...to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow.”

He looked down as he readied the ring he had spent so long designing onto your ring finger as he continued. “I give you this ring as a symbol of my love, and with all that I am, and all that I have, I honor you.” With that, he slowly slipped on the ring and allowed you to admire it - this being your first time ever seeing it. The band was made of small silver feathers that swirled together into a spun gold nest-like setting with a magnificent round fire opal as the centerpiece flanked by small white diamonds and a few, tiny, inconspicuous silver feathers tucked into the gold strands of the nest.

The minister then turned to you and asked you to repeat the same vows before you readied Hawk’s ring as well and placed it on his finger when you had finished, “I give you this ring as a symbol of my love, and with all that I am, and all that I have, I honor you.” It was a wide, masculine band, but in it were many gold feathers stemming from the shaft of a silver arrow that wrapped around his finger - the feathers meant to symbolize all that he had to give you; and the arrow his vow to protect you, his desire to provide for you like a feather carries an arrow to its target, as well as a personal point on the compass to point him home to you.

The minister gave one last address to the congregation gathered as you held hands and gazed into each others’ eyes, excited for the part to come next. “Now that these two have given themselves to each other by solemn vows, with the joining of hands and the giving and receiving of rings, I pronounce that they are husband and wife.

“You may kiss the bride.”

A thousand thoughts raced through his head as his hands gently, slowly moved to raise the veil from your face. This was it! In everyone’s eyes you were his missus, his wife, maybe the only thing in the world that was truly his. Your relationship had not been an easy one to establish by any means. There were tears and heartache and pain; and there were times he was sure that there was nothing he could do for you but to let you go; but even in the worst of circumstances you had returned to him time and time again and done nothing but hold him and love him. Everything in his world could crumble out from beneath him, but he would be able to fall safely into your arms - and really, wasn’t that what it meant to truly have everything?

He had genuinely meant to make the kiss short and sweet, but like many other things in his life his thoughts spun in his head too fast for his own good; and in the first split second he went from a gentle, chaste kiss with your face in his hands as the crowd applauded to pulling you close by the waist in a deep, passionate embrace to the sound a few whoops and jeers.

“Save it for the honeymoon, love birds!”

The comment made both of you blush as you pulled away from each other, but at this point, he didn’t really care any more. There was no more doubt, no more uncertainty, no more gaps between you. This was the first day of the rest of your lives together. He had you now, and he was never letting go. He lifted you up into the air and spun you around without regard, nearly knocking over the rest of the wedding party in the process.

This was truly the happiest day of his life!

[the-manor-7]

Soulmate au - Taehyung pt.1

[au: You dream of the place your soulmate spent the most time in that day.]

As the alarm blared in my ear, I slammed my hand down on it and groaned at the thought of getting out of bed at this unseemly hour.  

'Why do bosses insist on their employees arriving to work at eight o'clock on a daily basis?' I seem to be asking myself every day.  

Not only was I upset about having to wake up because of the time, but because I was dreaming about an amusement park.  

Now, you might be wondering why I find this so significant.  

Well, you see, my soulmate gene allows me to see where my chosen partner has spent most of their time that day.  

And it just so happened that mine was hanging around a particularly fun location.  

They always seemed to be somewhere interesting. I was beginning to wonder whether or not they were a celebrity of some sort. They were either at a dance studio, a dorm, or a concert hall most of the time.  

While I, on the other hand, spend most of my time in a cubical (during the week) or my house (during the weekend). They probably know their way around both better than I do at this point.  

I felt bad for my soulmate. They led such an interesting and exciting life, and when they went to sleep, which is supposed to be when you have dreams of magical lands or the sort, they were stuck in stagnant landscapes. A cubical or a tiny apartment.  

Sometimes it would probably change to my friend's or parents' house, but that was most likely the only variety they got.  

Nothing compared to their everyday lives.  As I lamented about my situation (I may be exaggerating), I got up and got ready for the day: eating breakfast, taking a shower, getting dressed, finishing my makeup and hair.  

Grabbing my purse and doing one last check to make sure I wasn't forgetting anything, I made my way down the stairs at the end of the hall, out the main doors, and stopped right outside the sliding-glass door at the bus stop. 

I checked the time on my phone as I waited impatiently for the vehicle to get here.  

It eventually arrived, with me quickly climbing on and plopping down in the nearest seat.  

On the way to my office-building, I stared out the window as the scenery rushed by, becoming a blur as I spaced out, thinking about some random topic.  

About twenty minutes later, the bus came to halt in front of my work and I shuffled off, grabbing my purse in the process.  

I scanned the card-key that was attached to my belt on the receptor and walked through after the door opened with a click.  

As I climbed up the stairs to the third floor, I passed one of my coworkers, Gabriel.  

"Hey, Crystal!" She smiled at me, "Do you have that report done yet? My manager is getting anxious." She gave me an apologetic look.  

I shook my head, "I'm sorry. It's almost done, though. I'll just need a few more hours." 

She nodded, "That's fine, then. Just please don't take to long? You know how she gets."  

I frowned, knowing all too well, "I'll try my best. It'll help if someone keeps Mr. Leston off my back though. He's been breathing down my neck lately." 

"I'll try to keep him distracted" her phone started ringing, "Oh, have to answer this. I'll see you later!" 

She didn't wait for a reply as she continued on her way down the stairs.  

I sighed, thinking about the amount of work I would have to cram into a couple hours.  

Just great. My soulmate is definitely going to be looking at my cubicle tonight, and they are probably going to see my report too.

How exciting.  

Trudging up the stairs, I wound my way through a maze of desks and people hard at work to finally stop at mine.  

I dropped my purse onto the floor next to me as I slumped into my seat and quickly logged into my computer, pulling up the dreaded document. 

*** 

I groaned, exhausted after a full-day's work and drug my feet as I climbed up the stairs to my apartment.  

I cannot wait to just fall into bed and finally start dreaming about pleasant things.  

I made quick work of getting ready for bed: I changed, brushed my teeth, washed my face.  

And once I collapsed onto my bed, I pulled the blankets over me and fell to sleep.  

My dream this night was different.  

Maybe that is due to sleep deprivation, I do not know.  

But, tonight, I could hear voices. 

Faintly, but I could hear them.  

I found myself located in a small café, sitting at a larger table.  

The voices I heard were talking about an upcoming concert, it occasionally strayed to another random topic, but it always came back to that.  

Suddenly, I could hear one voice louder than the rest, "Hyung?" 

There was a pause where another faint voice replied.  

"Can we come here again tomorrow?" 

The faint voice answered again, this time agreeing.  

The person with the louder voice smiled.  

Don't ask me how I know they did, I'm still questioning that too.  

After that, the voices died down and soon, faded out completely.  

I rested my head on my hand, contemplating the whole situation.  

Why was I shown this place tonight? And why could I hear voices? 

When the realization hit me, I just about hit my head on the table out of frustration.  

Why did it take me so long to realize? Again, I don't know.  

I rushed around to find any indication of where I was located, but found nothing.  

Once I paused to sit down after my fruitless search, I saw something outside out of the corner of my eye.  

It was a street sign.  

I rushed over to the window and read the sign, trying to devote it to memory.  

It read: Lexington Ave. And the one right below it said: E 91st Street.  

Before I could celebrate too much, I was pulled from my dreams and forced awake because of who knows what.  

But whatever force did, I was thankful because I don't know how long I would be able to remember.  

I quickly grabbed my phone from my nightstand and punched in the digits I had forced my brain to memorize.  

It pulled up a map of New York, Manhattan and I just about screamed.  

I live in Greenpoint, which is across the East Side river from the small café.  

I whipped around to look at the clock and read the time: 7:30.  

Since when did I ever wake up that early? 

I was lucky that today was Saturday, and not a weekday, otherwise I probably would have had to either miss my chance at meeting my soulmate or skipping work.  

Quickly, I got ready for the day.  

Except today, instead of wearing my normal work attire, I pulled out a light blue dress with cherry blossoms that I hadn't worn in months, white heels, I put clear studs in my ears, and curled my hair, putting it up in a half ponytail.  

Checking to see if I smudged any makeup (I didn't) I quickly grabbed my purse and headed out the door.  

As I waited for my normal bus I realized, I wouldn't get off at my normal stop, I would go past it!  

Now that definitely feels strange.  

Once my ride arrived, I hurried to board, with a lot more energy that usual.  

The bus driver that I have seen almost everyday for the past six years (I'm pretty sure her name is Pat) raised an eyebrow at me and smiled, "Well, aren't you looking bright this morning, Miss Davis? What is the occasion?" 

I grinned as I sat down in the seat behind her and met her eyes in the rear view mirror, "I had a dream last night." 

"Oh, really?" She looked up at me after she turned a corner, "About what?" 

"My soulmate." 

"Oh, dear! That's wonderful!" When we stopped at a traffic light, she pulled up her sleeve and showed me a tattoo of a tiger, "This is mine." 

I leaned over the seat to look at it, "Have you found them yet?" 

She laughed before pulling her sleeve back down and continued driving, "Now, Miss Davis, I am nearly sixty. It would be awful late if I found my soulmate now." 

I giggled (something that I don't think I've heard since high school), "You're right." 

We sat in silence for a couple of minutes before she spoke up again, "Where are you going today? Not work, I hope." 

I shook my head, "Nope, I'm getting off by the ferry today. I need to head over to Manhattan." 

"Oh, of all the places!" She chuckled, "You're a lucky one, now aren't you?" 

Once she pulled up to my desired destination, she called after me as I climbed off the bus, "Have a good day, Miss Davis! I hope you find them!" 

I looked back and waved at her, smiling, before turning back around and walking over to stand in line for the ferry.  

Even though I've only been here a couple of times, since my work is on this side of the river, I found it surprising busy at the pier.  

Shrugging it off as it just being a Saturday, with usual New York traffic, I hurried onto the boat in order to get a seat.  

The ride was uneventful, except for the fact that I offered my seat to this sweet older lady who gave me a piece of candy in return and called me 'shmoopsipoo', that was basically it.  

When the vehicle pulled up to the dock, I exited the boat and quickly made my way down the boardwalk and to the nearest bus station.  

I quickly hopped on the bus and silently urged the driver to go faster. I have places to be and things to do.  

Even though it felt like forever, in actuality, it only took about twenty minutes, and I was to the final stretch.  

I speed-walked towards the cute little café and once I arrived, I practically burst through the door.  

Quickly, I took in my surroundings.  

It looked exactly the same as it had in my dream. The large table was there, the poster was in the corner, even the baby plant was by the register.  

However, to my disappointment, I didn't see the group of people that I had heard in my dream.  

Resigned to my fate of waiting, I walked up to the counter and stared up at the menu.  

Deciding that I didn't like coffee, I ordered black tea, barely steeped. I made sure to emphasize the last point.  

I took to a seat by the window plopped down in it, slinging my purse over the back of the chair.  

When the barista came around with different people's orders, I grabbed mine and took a hesitant sip.  

To my faint astonishment, I was pleasantly surprised. They had gotten my order right.  

As I stared out the window, the door opened, ringing a bell that was attached above it.  

For whatever reason (unbeknownst to me) I payed it no mind. I just kept people-watching and staring out the window.  

It wasn't until one of them bumped into me that I payed any attention to them.  

In slight annoyance, I turned around to face the offender, who quickly bowed and spoke a quick apology before straightening and smiling at me.  

Because I thought he looked kind of cute, I smiled at him, "It's all right." 

His eyes widened and he stared at me, "Say something else." 

I raised an eyebrow at him, "Excuse me?" 

His eyes lit up and he ran over to a male that was slightly shorter than him, "Hyung, hyung! It's her!" 

The light-green haired man looked over at me, then back at his friend, "Are you sure?" 

The original man nodded, excited, before dragging the other guy over to me.  

He let go and beamed at me, "Hello, soulmate!" 

All I could do was stare at him.  

He was a gorgeous man, with dark brown hair and brown eyes, he looked to be of Korean heritage, and wore a permanent smile on his face (that kind of looked like a box).  

It wasn't until he reached out and hugged me that I realized I was crying.  

"Ah, don't cry!" He said into my hair.  

I just sobbed harder as I wrapped my arms around him.  

He laughed and let go, looking at my face, "My Jagi is a crier!" 

I laughed (which was kind of weird, I was still crying), "Oh, be quiet. I'm not usually like this." 

He smiled at me before thinking a moment, "Hey, Jagiya?" 

"Yes?" 

"Come with me to Korea?" 

"Right now?!" 

"Yes!" 

Oh, great. It looks like I have a hyperactive soulmate.  

He's a cutie though! 

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

Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave comments/requests!

Thank you,

The_Manor

Masterlist

[mindlessselfdeprivation]

The Nothing

It’s just like The Neverending Story. It’s not darkness, it’s not even a hole, because even hole would be something. No, this...this is just nothing.

That’s depression. That’s what true despair is, it’s The Nothing that eats up your everything. It bleaches your life, nothing has any color or flavor or texture anymore. Food sucks, company is annoying, being alone is excruciating and substances exist only as a shit-ass temporary floaty. Recreation means nothing anymore, every desperate action during the day is taken only to distract me from myself for a little bit longer. Sleep will come soon, and in sleep there’s just that sweet fucking nothing. 

Which is what you feel like you constantly have, at any given time. Nothing. The Nothing has it now. And now every memory is covered in spikes, too painful to even go near.

Nothing can make you feel ok anymore, and your good days are the ones where you only brood and lament your life for a few hours out of the day. You know, as opposed to every second you’re awake. 

Those days happen so much more often. I swear to fucking God, some days I feel like the pain inside me is gonna open a fucking hole in the earth. Like I’m no longer going to be able to keep this horrible monster at bay anymore, and the scream that finally peals out of me will shred my lungs and crack open an abyss that swallows me once and for all. 

I fear for anyone that might be around when that bomb goes off. Which is another problem. Although I’m desperate to be seen and heard and known and loved, I’m fucking terrified of getting near anyone ever again, it seems like an absurd idea to even say it out loud. I’m a goddamned hurricane, I’m a fucking natural disaster on legs, an extinction level event taken human form. All of my relationships....it’s just a festering sewage basin, that whole area of my life. Everything there, flies and pestilence, disease and rot. 

That’s my heart in there too. Fucking rotten, like an old forgotten tree stump wasting away in a swamp somewhere in whogivesafuck. Thinking on it, can I even love anymore? Do I even know what that is anymore? 

An older woman I work with asked me for a hug the other day cause she was a little sad, thinking about her brother that died...and I was happy to oblige, she’s the sweetest little thing. And I realized - holy shit, this is the first real hug I’ve had in an entire year. I’ve hardly touched anyone for ten months outside of a handshake or a friendly bro-hug. 

And afterwards she thanked me and said I gave great hugs, and it dawned on me...I remembered being a guy who loved hugs, remembered a guy that was very romantic and affectionate, that insisted on using physical touch to remind those around him that he loved them dearly....then I looked over from that guy to the one that’s in there now. What a shadow, what a husk he’s become. Empty and hollow and discarded. A lost soul...an inevitable consequence of The Nothing.

The worst thing? I mean, if there is a blacker black than all the rest...

The Apathy. That’s what The Nothing shits out and leaves behind for you. You just don’t....fucking....care...anymore.

I used to have passion, play music, learn language or just about any damn thing else (I was always such a junkie for knowledge), write stories or poetry or music or any one of a dozen other things that enjoyed. And I don’t even write this out of sadness or with some sense of self pity, this is just a cold, apathetic recall of facts. There was a guy who knew love and there’s the guy sitting there now. And those are simply two different guys. And the insurance adjuster in me is fairly certain that at this level of damage, it’ll cost more to repair the existing vehicle than it would to just buy a new one.

I don’t have any real relationships anymore. I have the ones that are necessary to maintain normal social function, but even those I put in just enough to get buy and no more. I’ve lost too much and hurt too deeply and hurt others far too much to let anyone close anymore. It’s hard to describe how it feels to look around you and realize you’re standing alone, no one around. 

The only times I hear from someone is when they need something from me. I’m like a tool for rent. Why buy this thing when I only ever need to use it once in a blue moon?

Family? No, two sisters and two brothers in law that I don’t know anymore and they definitely don’t know me. A mom that taught me to use people like pawns and a dad so devoid of emotion and connection that it’s impossible to communicate, a daughter I never see or speak to anymore and an ex that swore we’d remain amicable for the sake of our daughter but slowly, methodically, and fucking brilliantly shut me out of her life completely...and my daughter with her by extension. Friends? No one there that knows me either, just people I talk to on occasion to spend a little bit of my distraction time with someone else.

But no one around me knows this. I put on a pretty decent mask I suppose, my boss apparently thought I was a really happy guy and married with kids. Ha. Cool, it’s working. I’ve gotten good at camouflage. It’s just another form of lying, and I’m incredibly good at lying. 

Talking about it, is like...what’s the fucking point? This is a tar pit, baby. I’m not bringing anyone else in this. Even if you were standing right next to me with a brilliant torch, this darkness, this Nothing around me is far too thick to see it. 

I miss writing though, maybe that’s why I’m finally doing this. Putting something down. I’m going to commit to talking to this fucking thing everyday. No one knows me here, I barely use this website. I only ever got onto it for....well, another person who eventually left. Maybe that’s why I feel I can be ok here, being naked and bleeding and fucked up and real.....no one who knows me by my mask will have to know what lives underneath it. This is my tree of trust.

I don’t want this to just be a dumping ground for depressed Emo bullshit though, I can go listen to Dashboard Confessionals while cutting myself if I wanted to go there. What I want is a true exploration and record of The Nothing as it grows stronger, what it’s taking, what fuels it, can I escape. I don’t want help either, I don’t think there is any such thing (see tar pit reference above). Maybe you’re always alone too, maybe you’re also constantly afraid that the house of cards will get blown down and people will see the real ugly inside. 

Maybe this is just me yelling into the wind that you’re alone, but not so alone. Maybe all of us are and none of us. Maybe I don’t know what to believe anymore.

I’ve tried to remember it, you know. Happiness. I’ve tried to find that motherfucker like Sherlock and his dear Watson, complete with cocaine and violins. You ever try to think of a nice warm fire while you’re soaking wet and freezing your balls off? And how’d that work out for ya? Same idea - “Just think happy thoughts” is like telling someone that just fell into arctic waters that they should “Just think of a nice warm fire”.

Hopefully, they’re still giving you the finger when their body gets frozen in place. It’d be a bit of justice, if there is such a thing.

That happiness is like the thought of a warm blanket when I’m currently buried in snow. Doesn’t actually exist.

There’s not a day where I don’t wake up wishing to fuck that I hadn’t. And there isn’t a night that I go to sleep that I don’t pray that I won’t wake up this time. Life has become a grueling marathon of pain and most days I have trouble figuring out why I fucking bother. 

Even as I’m writing this, I’m constantly stopping to wonder what’s the fucking point. 

I’ve gone on dating apps, funny enough. But every time I actually think about having a connection with someone, it honestly freaks me the fuck out. I’m so fucking damaged, there’s just no fucking way I’ll find someone with a back strong enough to help me carry all this baggage. I freak out and delete the account.

It’s completely not about the sex for me, if you can believe it. I’ve got such a low libido recently that even the idea of it lately gives me paralyzing anxiety. I don’t want to have sex if it’s not with someone I have a good intellectual connection with, and I never have. The problem with that is that sex in my mind is held on this strange pedestal where it straddles the line between sacred entity and foul beast, and it’s gotten so complicated and ridiculous that I just don’t care anymore. 

There isn’t anything even tempting or alluring about sex anymore. Even masturbation is almost completely without enjoyment, used every so often as a tool for general upkeep. And even this The Nothing has it’s hands on. The other day, I stumbled on a video that looked almost exactly like my child’s mother with another man...and I got physically ill. After throwing up 3 times and shaking for nearly an hour, I slowly pulled myself back from the panic attack I was having.

I didn’t eat for 3 days and I couldn’t get another erection for more than a week. Suppose it’s safe to say I’m still in love with that woman, I guess. Not only did I feel like absolute shit that whole week, I felt like shit for feeling like shit. My Yin and my Yang were both very very pissed off. This is just one of a number of broken fuses and faulty wires inside this broken machine.

Sometimes I wish we had the ability to do a form of Vulcan Min-meld, but with emotions and empathy. Especially when someone asks what’s wrong. Just grab their hand and rest it gently over my heart and let it tell the story for which I’ll never have the words. 

That’s also why I’d be scared like hell if that were possible, I’d be afraid the weight of it would crush them. I’m not trying to be really morose or hyperbolic, I’m fairly certain the vast majority of people walking around out there don’t carry this. I’ve talked to them, I know them. When you’ve spent a fucking lifetime perfecting your camouflage and your tower of lies, you can spot someone else playing that game from a mile away. And I’m not saying everyone else out there is skipping through a magic pixie lolly-pop fairyland or anything, but most people out there are general pretty stoked about being alive and doing stuff. People like me are out there, but I don’t see very many people that are under the spell of The Nothing.

I fucking hope not, this is an existence I wouldn’t wish on anyone, friend or foe. On that note, I also hope you aren’t going through that as well if you’re reading this right now. If you’ve never counted the different ways you could choose to end your life instead of counting sheep to fall asleep at night, you are truly blessed. 

I hope you stay whole. And with whatever capacity I’m still capable of feeling it, I love you. Cause maybe you don’t hear it that often either, and for that I’m sorry. I’d rather go without food than love, and I’ve been in both spots before.

I hope The Nothing never finds you.

Until next time.

[thesoundofnat]

Three Times Sirius Woke Remus Up

Sirius/Remus

Summary: ...and one time he let him sleep.

A/N: This was prompted by a kind anon. I hope you like it!

[Read it on AO3]

Words: 2 324

1.

Sirius could sense his exhaustion the moment Remus stepped into the common room that evening. A bad full moon the previous week combined with revising for their exams had left him bleary-eyed and irritable, and when he’d disappeared into the library for the third night in a row no one had tried to stop him. Sirius could see him so close to the edge now. So close to giving in to the fatigue.

He slumped down beside him on the couch, shoulders low and heavy. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself,” Sirius said, trying not to let his concern taint his voice. The last thing Remus needed was to be pitied. “Any progress?”

“I finished all the assignments for this week.”

“That’s good.”

Remus hummed, turning his head slightly to meet his eyes. “Wish I could’ve done more.”

“You’d be a damn wizard if you’d manage to do more than that.”

“Oh, ha ha.” But Remus did crack a smile, and Sirius felt his heart break and swell all at once. “Where are the others?”

“In bed, like we all should be.”

“I’ll go in a bit. I need to just-”

“Calm down?”

“Something like that. What are you working on?”

Sirius had been writing the opening line to an assignment due the next morning for the past hour. Had he been a fool he’d think he was more exhausted than Remus, but he knew better than that. No one was more exhausted than Remus.

He sighed, head rolling back to rest against the couch. “A disaster.”

“Hey, I’m sure it won’t be a disaster. Do you need help?”

“I cannot possibly ask you to do that.” It had slipped out. He hadn’t meant to say it. It was an unwritten rule that you didn’t mention Remus overworking himself unless he physically passed out. He hadn’t passed out yet.

But Remus didn’t pay it any mind. “Other times you beg on your bare knees for me to help. Stop being modest, will you? Give me.” He grabbed the parchment and set to work, and Sirius had to swallow the guilt every other minute lest he wanted to fail one of the last assignments of the semester.

Thirty minutes later found them still in the now entirely empty apart from them common room, Sirius finishing up his homework with Remus peering at him with blinking eyes for support. Sirius knew he was on the verge of falling asleep, but he was so caught up on finishing this damn thing that he let out a sound of genuine surprise when he turned to his friend to celebrate only to find him passed out beside him, mouth open and all.

Sirius licked his lips. The way Remus’ head was angled - hanging forward rather than resting against the back of the couch - was a recipe for a stiff neck. He couldn’t have been asleep for long, and the mere notion of waking him up hurt Sirius more than he could explain.

“Moony,” he mumbled, hoping it wouldn’t take more. “Hey, come on, let’s go up to bed.”

Remus didn’t move. Sirius almost had to make sure he was still alive.

“Hey.” He reached out, let his fingertips hesitate against Remus’ arm before he grabbed it. Shaking it slightly, he watched how Remus opened his eyes, trying to blink away the sleep he so desperately needed.

“Wha-?”

“Let’s go to bed.”

Remus didn’t say anything. Only allowed Sirius to help him stand and walk up the stairs. Had this been their home, only theirs, he might’ve let him stay on the couch and possibly curled up next to him.

2.

The library wasn’t Sirius favorite place by any means, but he had to admit there was something magical - no pun intended - about people falling asleep before boring books together. Truly he’d never yawned in unison with so many of his peers until that evening.

“Hey.” James snapped his fingers in his face. “I know that look. Focus.”

Sirius huffed. “Would you let me dissociate in peace?”

“You were falling asleep.”

“Can you blame me?”

“No, but I’d rather you finish your reading tonight than whine all of tomorrow.”

“I’ll whine anyway.”

“I know, but do you really want me to keep saying I told you so?”

Sirius hid behind his book again, grumbling to himself. Remus and Peter had been silent since they arrived, but Sirius had complained more than once and James was the only one irritated enough to take the time to reprimand him. What a mother hen.

He glanced at James, purely to see him glare back in that nonthreatening way of his, but his eyes found Remus instead, all but nodding off in his chair. He did a good job of hiding it, but Sirius knew his signs. Could see the way he blinked too much. How he stared too intently at his book. A book that boring couldn’t be that engaging.

James suddenly scraped his chair back and stood, startling both Peter and Remus. “I need to go find a book. I forgot to grab it earlier.”

“What part are you on?” Peter asked.

“I’m trying to write about the constellation thing.”

“Me too. I’ll come with you.”

They both left, and Sirius was torn between lamenting the fact that he hadn’t even reached the part of the assignment yet that required something about constellations, and between grabbing his books and fleeing while James had his back turned. Instead, he turned back to Remus, who’d seemingly fallen back into the state he’d been before.

Actually, it seemed to be graver than before. Eyes closed, head in that awful angle again. He’d nodded off entirely.

Sirius hated this, but Remus wouldn’t like the attention if he waited for the others to return before he woke him. Reaching across the table, Sirius tapped his fingers against the wood. “Moony.”

Remus jerked awake, meeting his gaze. “Sorry?”

“Are you doing all right there?”

He exhaled slowly, as if answering took a great deal of energy. “I’m just tired.”

“Maybe you should call it a night? You did fall asleep on me the other day as well. Did I ever thank you for helping me?”

“You did. It’s no worries.” Sirius noticed how he didn’t address the falling asleep part.

He leaned back, eyes never leaving Remus. “You want some coffee, at least?”

“I’ve had too many cups today. I’ll just get jumpy.”

Sirius nodded. “All right.”

A half-hearted attempt at a grin. “Thank you for caring.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Jerk. I’m just-”

“Concerned?”

“Well, yes.”

“Don’t be.”

“If I have to carry you all the way back to the dorms I swear to god-”

“Mr Black.” The librarian appeared out of nowhere. “Keep your voice down.”

He shot her his best smile. “My apologies, madam.”

She rolled her eyes almost fondly before walking off. They’d done this before.

He turned back to Remus who was giving him an amused smirk. “Don’t look so smug.”

“Don’t look so satisfied then.”

“I would never.”

The others returned carrying four books, one of which Remus gratefully accepted while Sirius groaned. This would be a long night.

3.

Sirius hadn’t meant for this to happen, but a howler too many burst the bubble he’d been containing his emotions in for the past few years, and he locked himself in a broom closet. Pathetic, just like his family kept telling him. It didn’t matter. It usually didn’t matter.

Remus found him like that, curled up in a space he barely fit in, hiding from the world he’d always been brave enough to face. He didn’t say a word. Only closed the door and sat down beside him, their hips and arms pressed together, heartbeats in sync.

That night, in the shelter of the darkness, Remus grabbed Sirius’ hand for the first time. It was a timid motion. A brush of their fingers. A silent question.

Sirius held on to his hand for dear life, squeezing it so tightly Remus had to ask him to ease up, just a little. The first words spoken since they united. Sirius found it apt. He’d always been one to hold on too tightly.

“Is this okay?” he asked, voice hoarse, but he didn’t care.

Remus let out a surprised laugh. “Of course it is. I initiated it.”

“I thought maybe you felt bad for me.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“Feel bad for me?”

“Lead you on.” He brought Sirius’ hand toward his mouth, brushing his lips against the knuckles. “Not to you.”

They didn’t kiss that night. It wasn’t the right time. Instead, they let their hands do the talking. Do the touching. Fingertips on cheekbones, curling against palms, brushing over lower lips.

They were there for so long that Remus fell asleep, his head finally supported by Sirius’ chest, tucked safely beneath his neck. Sirius would’ve stayed there all night if he could, but he knew they had to return to the common room. To the dorm room where two worried boys would be waiting. It was the only time he’d wished he hadn’t been at Hogwarts.

“Remus.”

Remus woke slowly as Sirius ran his fingers through his hair, blinking blearily up at him. “What time is it?” he asked, no confusion. No questioning how he’d ended up here.

“Time for bed,” Sirius replied. “Come on.”

Remus hummed. “Carry me?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Wow. You’re so not boyfriend material.”

Sirius moved his hand down, stroking the skin behind his ear. “Maybe I can change your mind on that.”

“Is that so?” There was something definitely not sleepy in Remus’ voice.

Sirius grinned. “Tomorrow.”

“Tease.”

“Can’t let you tire of me.”

“As if that would ever happen.”

It wouldn’t, but war and life and betrayals would keep them apart anyway.

And one time he let him sleep.

When Dumbledore ordered him and Remus to stay at Grimmauld Place together, Sirius had for sure thought it a joke. After all these years, he’d be sleeping door to door with the only person he’d ever loved. It was too cruel, to be in his thirties and to not be able to touch him. To not allow himself to touch him again. His chance had passed him by long ago. He was only an afterthought now.

It was surprisingly easy to fall back in sync with each other, and maybe that made the whole thing worse. They knew each other’s signs, even after all these years. Missed potential. It was too fucking unfair, and it stared him right in the face everyday. He should’ve been focused on the upcoming war, but all he could think of was all that he lost during the previous one.

So, really, obsessing over Remus was the safest choice. He still had him, after all. In a way at least.

“What’s on your mind?”

Sirius looked up. He hadn’t even heard him enter his room, which was pretty bizarre. If there was one thing Sirius knew, it was how this house sounded. If anyone so much as moved in the direction of his bedroom, Sirius would know.

He shrugged. “Nothing. Too much.”

Remus’ lips twitched. “You too, huh?” He entered, hesitating for only a second before settling down on the bed beside Sirius. He was too far away for any part of their bodies to touch, and maybe it was for the best.

Sirius rubbed his forehead. “It feels weird.”

“Being here?”

“Everything.”

“I can’t blame you.”

“I can’t really sleep at night. To be fair I haven’t really slept well in, like, fifteen years, but you know.” He leaned his head back against the wall. “One of these days I think I’m gonna die of exhaustion.” He wasn’t sure why he was saying all of this.

Remus hummed. “I know it’s not the same thing, but I’m having trouble sleeping too.”

Sirius was reminded of late nights in the library. Remus passing out with his face pressed against pages of old knowledge. Waking up with a start when Sirius ran his fingers over his neck. Smiling when he realized he was safe.

He wondered if Remus had ever felt safe after they were forced apart. Maybe he’d been stuck in this bubble of terror ever since that night just like Sirius had. Maybe he hadn’t felt a thing, just like Sirius wished he’d had.

Sirius reached out and let his knuckles collide with Remus’ arm. A friendly punch. Nothing more. “Maybe we should get something stronger to knock us out.”

Remus rolled his eyes fondly. “You think I haven’t thought of that? Don’t think Dumbledore would be too happy though.”

“We’ve been stuck here doing nothing for several days. We deserve some release.”

“I’m sure we won’t be doing nothing for long. This place will be filled with people soon.”

“Of all places. Why here?”

“I’m sorry, Padfoot. I know it’s hard.”

Remus grabbed his shoulder. Gave it a squeeze. Let go.

Sirius sighed. “At least… well, I’m glad you’re here, at least.”

Remus’ lips twitched. “I’m glad I’m here too, Pads.”

It was surreal, but only a little while later Remus’ head was angled in that awful way, the silence and familiar comfort having lulled him to sleep. Sirius let his gaze linger for just a moment too long, but it felt forbidden, so he reached out and stopped himself just in time.

Neither of them was sleeping in this house. If Remus had nodded off it was better to leave him be. Let him rest while he could.

It was only years of practice that allowed Sirius to gently push Remus down the bed so that he could sleep like a normal human being without waking him up. He made sure his head was supported by the pillow, deciding against the blanket since Remus got too hot anyway. He still remembered such useless things, but maybe they weren’t useless at all.

Sirius left the room, and Remus remained asleep until the next morning.