#my body finally decided to be normal you really wouldn't find any other person celebrating this but I wanted it so bad

[ncityzen]

ok tmi moment that no one cares about but I kinda really want to share!!!

[skiyoosmi]

to the stars above | z.

featuring. zhongli (genshin impact)

genre. fluff, angst, smut, ancient-liyue!au

word count. 5.4k

marga's notes. aAAAa look look, it's my first commission!! school has kept me really occupied for like the past month but after pulling a few all-nighters, i've finally finished my responsibilities along with this little baby! once again, from the bottom of my heart, thank you to my bubs @ramannnn for trusting me with this one <33

Nobody knows when the world began, how it came to be and why it continues to be. Even I, whose mind is filled with nothing but wonder for it, have no idea. One thing I am quite sure of... is how mine did.

It all started with him— a man of many titles, different identities yet at the end of the day, all these monikers are the same; it's all him. He adored Liyue more than anything else, knew it like the back of his hand. He went where the winds lead him, stayed where the moon shines upon him, stood where the golden sun kissed his skin. He found serenity in the walks he travels as he goes about his day, the sceneries his eyes take in and the calm sounds the nature resonates for him. And as if it was fate decided upon by the Celestia, it led him to me. Suddenly, my little world that used to be nothing became everything... quickly and all at once.

An exasperated sigh escapes from my lips, frustration and disappointment filling my whole being as I stare at the blank parchment paper I held in my hands. Another day was again wasted with no progress, I thought, mentally beating myself up for not being productive enough. Before I could further drown myself into such pessimistic ideas, I snap out of it and let my eyes cherish the view that lies ahead of me. Though I feel a little guilty for taking Vermeer's place, I can only whisper an apology with little to no sincerity. Because truly, nothing can beat the picturesque landscape of Luhua Pool— the crystal clear waters that would most probably reflect my face like a mirror if I were to ever look at it, the ruins that ignited the spark of curiosity within me, wondering about the pasts it holds and the stillness and feeling of peace it gives me as I sit in this cliff. Feeling somewhat a bit better, I place my things on top of the old bag I bring no matter where I go. There's always a better day for writing, I tell myself as a form of consolation, bringing my slim arms up to begin stretching. I've been sitting on this log for quite a long time now, after all.

"It seems like you are in a bit of a dilemma," a deep voice comments from behind me. Out of surprise, I lightly jump and turn my head towards the stranger. Right at that moment, it felt as if all the air circulating inside my body had been depleted. Captivating was an understatement as to how he appeared before me. With the sunlight striking his face and accenting his unique features further, he stood with his hands behind him, head tilted as he looked at me with interest, all while keeping his dignified posture.

"Oh, hello. I am afraid so, yes," I respond, or rather, mutter under my breath since I was not really used to having sudden encounters with other people, nor am I fond of it. I tend to keep to myself, finding it much more peaceful than having to tend to others' overbearing expectations and demands which is partly the reason why I chose to live in the outskirts, far from the center of Liyue that contrasts my comfortable abode, "I apologize. I failed to realize that somebody other than Vermeer liked to stay here," I told him, arching my eyebrows a little when he let out a breathy chuckle.

"Oh, you have no need for such formal apologies. I do not always go here, at least probably not as often as the man you call Vermeer. I was simply taking a walk and I think I got carried away by Liyue's view and eventually, my feet led me here," he explains, a hint of sheepishness present in his tone, "and I guess I'll have to thank my feet for that."

Because it led me to you, interesting one. For many years, it will remain unspoken, kept by the strange man to himself and unveiled once his heart gives up from the resistance he upholds.

For the following hours of lounging around Luhua Pool, I learned a lot about the stranger— he calls himself "Morax," and like the god of Liyue, he enjoyed history and is extremely knowledgeable about it, aspiring to know and understand everything of the world, he often brews tea, even going as far as inviting me once I am free from any form of work. Just as he shared facts about himself, I did too.

"So, Cheng, you said you have a bit of a dilemma?" he inquires, slightly angling his head towards the direction of the side I'm sitting on. I nod my head up and down, mouth forming into a small pout of disappointment as I remember that today has not been that progressive.

"Yes. I am trying to write a novel, you see. Something that will leave an impact on this world so that even if I may pass, I will still live on the memories of people," I tell him, an ambitious expression present on my face. He hums, eyes going over the terraces that make up the current view we have and the two huge statues standing by the ruins, "Why so?"

I pause for a moment to think of a reply, "I guess I just do not want to let someone alone in this cold world. Wouldn't that be too cruel and sad, to just leave them with nothing?"

If I'm able to write words that will provide comfort to my readers, then maybe... just maybe the world will be less lonely... even for just a little bit. At least, that's what I thought as silence consumed us, the sun setting as if to remind us that finally, another day is nearing its end. Now, what will tomorrow bring?

"Well then, I do hope I will be able to read at least some of your works at least once," he speaks as he stands up, lightly dusting away his clothes, "It certainly has been a pleasure to be your company, Cheng."

As he walks down the slope of the hill, his somewhat broad back facing me, I call out, "Will you be back?"

He stops and turns, a soft smile is plastered on his face as he responds, "Only time will tell."

But time was no friend of mine. At least that's what I have come to realize as many days passed without him returning to this place. Though maybe it's only because it almost felt as if time slowed down and I was only eager to see him again, something I have scolded myself to— what a fragile heart do I have to already seek a stranger's presence? That is what others call love at first sight, a devilish portion of my mind whispered cheekily within me and I gasped in disbelief, "Absolutely not," I lightly slap both of my cheeks, "I'm just too coped up in my own world. I probably need to go see more people."

That thought remains a simple yearning though because once again, I find myself lounging around the same spot in Luhua, a quiet hope ignited within me, fulfilled when I hear the familiar voice he adorns as he speaks, "You're here."

I release a sound that is between a giggle and a breathy chuckle, "And I see your feet had led you here once more?"

"They were curious, or should I say... I was," he explains as he takes a seat beside me, his posture remaining solid despite the uncomfortable position.

"Of what?" I ask.

"Of you," he simply replies, unaware of the sudden yet unsurprising effect it had on my heart that was already beating rapidly with just his mere presence. I try not to be so showy of it though, too embarrassed to even think of how fast I became fond of him.

But it was no wonder. After all, he himself was an interesting one; from the way he carries himself, the way he speaks, and the way he's just him... all and every action hold so much dignity that it just leaves me almost breathless and in awe every single time my eyes finds their way to his figure— and to think that this was just our second meeting? My mother would most probably let out the most shameless giggle as I tell her these thoughts, pushing me and teasing me like a normal person in their teens would. I shake my head to get out of these thoughts, listening to Morax as he tells another wonderful tale, almost making me think that he lived it himself with how he knew it, going over even with the smallest details.

"You know, Morax, you have such a good memory to remember all of those things despite simply hearing about it," I suddenly speak up in the midst of the silence that engulfed us while he tries to think of the next story to tell, "I hope I can stay in them too... in your memories, I mean. I know I am far from being the most interesting person but for some reason, I wish for that."

He pauses, eyes trailing slowly towards me, beyond my knowledge, before he lets out a somber smile. You already are, is another one of him that becomes an afterthought.

I heaved out a sigh before shaking my head again, "Ah! Why do I keep having such lonely thoughts? Forget about that. Please do not mind me, alright? I think I really need to stop being stuck in the mountains."

I pick up my small bag and shuffle inside it, letting out a quiet sound of 'aha!' as a sort of celebration when I successfully got a small book out, "Here."

He blinked his eyes in confusion, wondering what it was I handed to him so I spoke in delight, "You told me you wanted to read at least one of my works so, here. I am warning you though, it is not like the ones that sell best in the bookstores. It might bore you, or weird you out like what others say."

"What others say?"

"They say it's too unrealistic, too impossible... but I believe otherwise. We live in a world where gods and adepti watch over us. What makes my story impossible then?" I ponder, him still being confused.

"What is it about anyway?" He asks, having no idea of what the context my book had.

"It's about an archon who began living as a simple man in Liyue."

Our meetings became more frequent after that and eventually, we got comfortable with even just the presence of each other, having no need for long talks and such, but just peace. Today, like any other day, Morax was just reading the book I gave him, while I was thinking of what my next story would be about. Occasionally, he looks at me with an odd expression that is almost equivalent to astonishment, as if I have done something so great that it made him look at me that way.

"What made you think of this plot?" he asks all of a sudden, not forgetting to put a piece of paper that served as a bookmark on the page where he stopped just in case he accidentally closed it.

I hum, thinking about my answer to his question, "Hmm. Truth to be told, it was just a mere wonder for me. Archons and the adepti, although not entirely immortal, live so much longer than an average human does, watching over us as we go about our daily lives, waiting for sudden wars to break out and then fight the enemies that attack us. Growing up, those were the things that all the people around me told me. So I began to wonder, do they ever get tired? Is it not too taxing to keep on doing that? What if... they just lived with us, among the crowds? Because I think it is too lonely wherever they are. Would it not be better if they were with us, rather than above us, so they could at least have memories to live by?"

Morax does not give a response, or rather, he finds it difficult to find one. Still, it does not stop the affection that spreads within him. He does not say it out loud, but for someone who prefers to be alone, Cheng was full of empathy. And somehow, that did wonders to Morax's heart.

"Now that I think about it, I kind of actually want to address my books to them now," I hum once more, "It would be like a message for them: Do not be too lonely even if we pass. Because of your help, through these stories, we can show you that we lived a good life."

I huff as soon as I finish my sentence, "Although one of those who read it said that was impossible, because according to them, why would archons give up their power to live a life where there is only simplicity?"

Morax let out a sound that made it look as if he got offended himself, "Archons can do that, can they not?"

"I know! That was what I was saying to them. Anyway, I am not forcing them to like what I wrote. It's just a story, after all. It can do no harm," I shrug, beginning to fix my belongings as the sun began to set, "I should go now, Morax. It is still quite a long walk to my home."

"I want to live a good life too," he suddenly tells me, making me halt and turn to him in confusion, "With you. The good life and memories you shall tell in your stories, can I be part of them too?"

The universe does not stop for anyone, nor does time— science will consistently proclaim this fact matter what timeline we shall live in. No matter how much someone begs to the Celestia to grant their wish of controlling, or stopping time, no one will be able to do such things. But somehow, it seems like when it comes to him, everything is possible as I feel my world stop at his words, just like the way it also began when I met him. And as if planets were colliding with each other, I suddenly felt my heart crash upon him and as if out of instinct, I let go of the truth.

"Of course. It would be the greatest thing to have you."

Life was strange in its own way. That is what I have come to realize in this simple life of mine.

Despite the fact that the "me" of the previous year has never even thought about putting my whole being on my sleeve, it is pleasingly odd how right now, I find myself in this kind of situation with the man who swept me right under my feet and claimed my heart as his.

“You're cold," I whisper amidst the silence of the night in my abode, my index tracing the ears of the man who had me sitting right on his lap, the shorter strands of his silky hair tucked behind them. So, so alluring.

He takes hold of my wrist, planting a soft kiss on its side, all while maintaining eye contact as he quietly drawls, "Then I suppose you can keep me warm tonight. Will you?"

As if in a trance, I nod my head, letting him take the lead as he laid me down, back against the soft mattress, him following on top with his arms supporting his build. With arising confidence, I circle my arms around him and pull him down, bringing our lips together, a sigh of relief escaping both of our mouths as if to say, "Finally."

I wonder if he thinks the same way as I do— that this was Celestia in its own way. I felt like I could do anything as long as it was with him. The kiss felt like the power we once suppressed from each other became a supernova that changed our world's course all of a sudden. But despite the tension and heat we both emitted at the moment, there is a warmth that engulfs me the same time he fully wraps his arms around me.

I am here. I will always be here.

No noise disturbs the peace we have created, only the quiet sound of crickets reach our ears but even that fails to distract him from what he's doing. He gently tugs on the sash that keeps my coat tied. Nimble fingers explore the remains of my clothing, loosening all until I am set free from them.

His eyes raked over my body, an expression of awe plastered on his face for so long that it made me somewhat conscious. Because as he unravels his to me, I am enlightened by the fact that my figure is nothing worth comparing to his — not even close. A hint of sweat glints from his skin due to the moonlight, making him look even more ethereal. But who was I to complain?

So instead, I look down, fiddling a little with my fingers as I feel my cheeks heat up. How is it that I only realize now what kind of situation we are currently in? Before I further drown in such shameless thoughts, he lifts my head up by the chin, an amused look on his usually-gentle face, "Are you feeling shy, beloved?"

I meekly nodded, to which he lets out a soft laugh and whispers, "Don't be. You are the epitome of beauty itself. If you don't believe me, allow me to show you nothing but truth tonight, I swear under the moon and all these stars."

He dips down and captures my lips in a kiss once again with more passion, if it was still even possible.

"You are made for me, as I'm made for you," he proclaims as he thrusts inside me after minutes of preparation, soft pants and groans following his statements. I can only whimper in response, pain evident in my tone at first with my hands lightly clawing at his back. I pray to the heavens above that they don't leave awful marks after this.

He halts and utters an apology, thumb caressing the bone of my cheeks while he waits for me to adjust. He scans my face after a few seconds, relief flashing in his eyes when I nod for him to continue.

"I... b..." I try to speak out but the pleasure overwrites any sensical thought that goes through my mind. He slows down a little, looking over my face and smiles, urging me to talk.

"Stay with me, beloved. We still have all night," he tells me, encouraging me to voice what has been on my mind.

"I... I belong to you, always have and always will..." I manage to croak out, voice quite hoarse due to the sounds that I let out previously. Perhaps pleased with what I have proclaimed, he begins going even deeper and at the same moment, I begin falling deeper.

"Yes, yes, you do," he repeats like a mantra, his voice sounding more and more desperate to reach his high. I cry out with him, creating a harmony that even the best bards shall be ashamed.

It was a long night— the longest yet most beautiful night I have ever had in this simple life of mine. And in that moment, as we reach the stars together, I knew right there and then that this man is someone who will be etched in my heart for as long as I live, deep into its roots— for him, it shall beat and it shall love.

You, who are reading this, most probably have had enough of these teeth-rotting praises I kept on writing. But what can I do except to apologize? These words are the only ones that can flow out of my mind and mouth to show how magnificent it was to be loved by him.

Well, nothing significant really changed. He was still the same gentleman I met, if anything, more gentle. Just like in the beginning, he made my heart flutter every chance he gets, no matter how many years have already passed.

We built a dynasty together.

But maybe I should have known that ours were also bound to crumble like the ones that have long existed even way before us.

Days, months and years went on, I realized that he was actually the opposite of me— unlike me who was clearly not parallel with time, he held it right on the palms of his hand. I was not blind, nor was I a fool, I can clearly see how he looks like he has not aged a day, all while I was here, maturing more and more each second that passed by, the amount of signs of me aging increasing significantly.

Morax. Knowledgeable of history as if he lived it himself. Time. All these thoughts eventually congest my mind as realization dawns upon me. He was not merely a man named after the god himself— Morax was him, he was Morax.

"How appalling," I mutter with a hint of sadness and dismay in my tone. I stood in front of the mirror, fingers hovering over my face, wrinkles appearing as I scrunch it. A pair of firm arms snake its way around my lean waist, chin resting on one of my shoulders as he hums his words, "What has got your beautiful mind occupied, my beloved?"

Taking hold of his arms, I turn my body around to face him, a somewhat melancholic smile etched on my face as I look up at his much taller frame, "You are a sight to behold, even to this day." He arches one eyebrow out of amusement and curiosity, wondering why I suddenly started pouring him compliments. After all, my shyness prevents me from consistently doing so. Nonetheless, I continue speaking, "I wish... I could be with you even when everything changes into a whole new world."

I lifted a hand up to cup his cheeks and began rubbing it lovingly, a lone tear finally dropping from my eye as soon as I closed it, "but I cannot, I do not have the ability to do so... I am but a mere mortal, after all."

His eyes widen as he finally discerns my actions and concerns, immediately opening his mouth in hopes of consoling me but I beat him into speaking, "It's alright, Morax. I have been putting the pieces together for a while now. I am in no way angry. I just..." I pause, gulping hard before my lips start to quiver, "... I cannot imagine how lonely it must have been. And now... I think about it and I... I do not want to leave you alone again."

My cries eventually start becoming louder, something that is very new to the both of us, seeing as I have always been composed. Love can change a person into a whole new being. I remember a book I have read once and at the moment, I can only agree. Maybe it was the way my heart clenches at the mere thought of him walking alone, or the way I can imagine us taking our last breaths together yet I know that will never happen— but either way, it was painful.

He whispers sweet nothings to my ears, placing light kisses on my temple as he leads us to the bedroom to rest once my tears have finally ceased and I have calmed down. His hold on me gets tighter every time I let out a small hiccup due to crying, almost as if he was telling me that he was feeling the same pain as I was.

Hours pass by as we lay in silence. My tears have long dried up but we remain coped up in each other's arms.

"Would it not be interesting if you bear the name Zhongli?" I ask him in a somewhat croaky voice.

He peers down and tilts his head, "Now where did that thought come from?"

I shrug, or at least try to, and look up at the ceiling as we shift our positions to lay on our back, hands finding one another and intertwining, "Hmm... nowhere. Just a name I wanted to give you in case that you are needing a new one."

"Oh? How come it would be interesting then?"

I look at him with a comforting yet sad smile.

"Because it means it's time to leave, to go somewhere far away... and unfortunately, I will have to leave soon."

He furrowed his eyebrows together, "Do not say that. Who knows? Maybe you will be able to live a hundred years by my side. Besides, I think it sounds lonely. I do not think I would want to get reminded of the fact that you are not here with me."

I hum, "But if you bear the name I gave you, wouldn't it feel like I never went away? That no matter where your feet take you, no matter how far you go, I am and will always be with you, just as I have vowed."

The wooden door leading to my writing room slowly slides open and Morax's head peers in, an adorable smile plastered on his face, "You have been quite busy these days, beloved. I do not wish to disturb you but I am starting to long for your presence."

I let out a shameless giggle, "Alright, alright. Just let me write down a few more words while I still have ideas to input."

He peeks on the parchment paper out of curiosity, taken aback when he finds his name on it, "You are writing about us?"

I nod proudly, "My last piece."

"... But why?"

I smile and approach him, taking his hand and placing my forehead against his after he lowers his head down to my level, "I told you, did I not? I do not wish to leave the person I love with nothing. So that you will not be lonely, my words will be with you. I will be with you, always..."

"... and to tell the gods... to tell you, that I loved every second of my life with you— that it was, indeed, a good life."

"Who are you, young man? Are you my son?" I speak with a very hoarse voice, squinting my eyes at the figure in front of me, as if my poor vision will allow me to do that.

I hear a melancholic yet gentle sigh come from him before he takes my rough hands and looks afar, "Don't mind me. I'm just someone who vowed to be with you for as long as time lets us."

"Oh.... really? That’s quite endearing," I hum, "Well, may I know your name?"

"This… I think I may just have an idea to whom this book is for," Paimon trails off, looking over at the traveler who was in the same trance as her, "Paimon thinks we should let the strange person we saw a while ago give this directly to Zhongli!"

Lumine nods, turning around and starting to run towards the direction they were at previously, recalling the person named Cheng who gave them the novel they just finished reading. They were unique, dressed in layers of robes and it was almost as if they lived in the old times of Liyue. Even the way they talked and moved screamed ancient.

Just as they turned the corner, a woman near the Liuli Pavilion called them over, "Traveler! Here!" As they approach, Lumine cranes her neck to look around the area but to no avail, the strange person was long gone.

"Are you two alright?" the woman asks, much to their confusion, "I saw you talking to literal air awhile ago and I was worried you have eaten something strange."

The pair looks at each other in surprise before Paimon replies, "You didn't see anyone? Like a person dressed in the strangest attire? They dressed really anciently!"

The door of the Liuli Pavilion opens and there goes Zhongli, a calm expression morphing to an awkward one when he realizes he barged into an ongoing conversation. He apologizes for the disturbance and despite the curiosity he had upon overhearing bits of Paimon's statements, he starts his walk back to Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. At least not until he hears Paimon call his name, "Zhongli! Wait! A person named Cheng. Do you know them?"

He abruptly stops and turns to the two, eyes wide for a second before it returns to his usual demeanor, "How... how do you know of them?"

"We met them," Paimon says, as if it was the simplest thing to do, "Well, honestly, we don't know because we were apparently speaking to nothing but air! It's so odd!"

He stays still, honestly having no idea of what response he should give them because he himself found it hard to believe.

"Well anyway, they asked us to give you this nov— wait, where is it? It was just in your hands a while ago, Traveler!"

In the midst of the loud chaos made by the two in the middle of Liyue, he thinks he knows what to do and where to go now.

It was the day of the Rite of Parting, an event where he's supposed to be taking part of, even just a part of the audience. But he finds himself hanging around the Wanwen Bookhouse, eyes scanning the shelves until it stops at a familiar name engraved on the cover of a book.

"Oh! Greetings, Mr. Zhongli! I see you took a liking to a very great and romantic novel," Jifang comments as she sees the book in his hands.

He looks at her, "Is it really great?"

She gasps in delight, "Yes, indeed! Almost all of the Liyue folks have enjoyed this story! You can say it is a classic, especially for readers! Cheng definitely outdid themselves with this one! Such a mysterious person yet equally amazing. Imagine? Being able to make such a beautiful love story with Morax? They don’t mention the present name they gave Morax though, such a shame. Maybe it was due to old age, they wrote it until the last moments of their life after all. Anyway, I have to get back to work but enjoy reading that masterpiece!"

He feels his heart swell in pride upon knowing his lover had his wish come true. His nimble fingers carefully open the pages of the book and hours later, as he sat inside the Funeral Parlor after taking the novel home, he finds himself absorbing each and every word Cheng have written, the loneliness sitting idly inside him subsiding little by little.

I found solace in the countless cups of tea you brew whenever I encounter distress with my works, the endless stories you tell with a smile so beautiful that not even the most heavenly scenery can vanquish, but most of them all, the feeling of your hand intertwining with mine, providing me with serenity no one else has ever done before. Under the moonlit night of Liyue, I remember your wistful amber eyes, staring deep into my soul as you proclaim your love and desire for me. How foolish was it of me to think that I could live this life without even experiencing such warmth and intimacy?

It is a banality, really — how I wish to become a well-known writer with unique tales and yet the story I am telling is something so common to folks that they have most probably heard similar ones before. But I guess this is what it means to love and to be loved. Everything is like a cycle that just keeps on being repeated, yet we never get tired of it, of the feelings it brings. So, thank you, Morax. Words will never be sufficient to show how grateful I am to you for showing me a whole new world but I suppose this is still a way for me to give back to you.

With this little book of mine, I hope my heart reaches yours regardless of how many eras may have passed before and after us. So, my beloved, do not be too lonely without me. Even if you find yourself longing for my presence, just open this and my heart shall be with you.

This belongs to you, it always will.

And I do, as well.

[babylooneytoonz]

The Vessel. [ Pt. 8 ]

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Fem! Reader

Summary: Tissaia de Vries pays you a visit and you are met with a startling revelation that can change your life, and the Witcher's forever. How are the two of you going to act upon it?

Warnings: None

[My Masterlist] [My Witcher Masterlist - Read the other parts here!]

"Why won't this fucking spell let me in?" Jaskier whined; in frustration, having tried for perhaps the tenth time to step into your chambers, but the spell that Yennefer had placed, had not allowed him to enter. And even Geralt, for that matter. Geralt had already experienced it once, and his sensible self didn't try it again, but Jaskier was headstrong, not wanting to stop trying until he had found a way to break that spell.

"Jaskier, let it go. Will you let her rest? Yen's put the spell to protect [Y/N]." Geralt tried to intervene, but the bard threw out both his hands in the air; dramatically and glared at him.

"I mean her no harm, Geralt. I'm sure you are very much aware of that. I love that woman."

Although Geralt knew that Jaskier meant it entirely in a platonic way; given the fact that the two of you had developed a deep rooted friendship ever since the whole knock you up with the Witcher baby drama had begun; a part inside of him flared with jealousy.

Jaskier, on the other hand felt guilt pierce through his heart, ever since he had found out exactly what had happened through Geralt. A part of it was his fault— although the entire conversation in the celebration revolving around Henrik had been a sodden joke from his end, because he had seen Henrik's eyes on her; he had never thought he would go to this extent. He felt guilty, finding himself responsible to a limit for what you had gone through, and he had to talk to you, get it off his chest; but the damn spell.

Geralt grabbed Jaskier from the collar of his shirt and began dragging him away from your room, without muttering a word, when finally, you emerged from your chambers, your eyes sullen, sleep deprived and deep dark bags already formed under them.

"Geralt, [Y/N]—" Jaskier tried pulling his shirt off the Witcher's clutches, trying to bring to a halt to the Witcher's dragging, "—Gods, you're such a big grizzly bear, would you look? She is here."

Geralt's head turned towards you and he let Jaskier go, his facial expressions changing almost instantly, from cold and unemotional to soft, and concerned; the second his eyes landed on you. You looked like a wreck, and Geralt mentally cursed himself, and his inability in that minute to reach out and provide you with comfort, or anything that could make you feel better, made him feel worse.

Instead, he decided to keep quiet, and let the bard talk to you instead, as he was already hovering around you, like a mother hen, concerned.

"[Y/N], I'm really sorry, I didn't know, I had no idea he was such a pervert, I swear to the Gods, had I known, I wouldn't have made those jokes—" he began, and you gave him a weak smile, reaching out and letting your hand rest against the side of his arm, aware of Geralt's eyes fixed on the exchange between the two of you.

"You had no idea, Jaskier. Stop beating yourself up, I'm alright."

Jaskier looked visibly relaxed upon hearing those words although he still wasn't entirely convinced, but decided not to push you any further.

"Would you like some breakfast? I'll ask someone to bring something up here for you," Jaskier asked softly, to which you simply shook your head, and turned to Geralt.

"I want to go home, Geralt. If you don't mind, can you arrange for a horse for me?"

Geralt stiffened when he was addressed directly, and he immediately nodded swiping his palm over his jaw and looked at you, "Give me some time, I'll arrange it."

"Thank you, Geralt," you whispered, giving him a meagre smile, before the smile was overshadowed by a painful look in your eyes, and Geralt forced himself to look away as he left you alone with the bard.

The bard did leave you alone shortly, with a promise to come back with a plate full of bread and ham for you; and you conceded because, as much as it pained you to think of it, you did want to be left alone, and this was the only way to make the hovering bard leave.

You were thankful you didn't see the sorceress all day, for you weren't ready to deal with her. But, you were shocked to have a visitor on your door, and a person you had least expected to see— Tissaia de Vries. When she stepped into your bed chambers, Yennefer's spell being no barrier for her, you weren't surprised, because you knew who she was.

"My name is Tissaia de Vries—"

"I know who you are, you are a member of the Chapter of the Gift and the Art, you are a powerful sorceress who created Yennefer of Vengerberg," you stood up from the side of your bed, your palms reflexively fixing on your bump as you stepped closer to the woman, eyeing her carefully from the corner of your eye. You noticed her lips curl into a smile, and she nodded, bringing her palms together and rubbing them lightly.

"Indeed, but the girl grew her wings, and she flew away."

You watched, noting how her smile faltered for a bit, and her eyes grew distant, as though she was suddenly plagued by certain memories, before she blinked, and turned towards you again; smiling at the curiousity that laced the features of your face.

"You must have questions."

"Yes, what do you want?" You pointed out, bluntly, without leaving a room for any further blabbering.

"Straight to the point, I see. Which is good. Saves me the effort, and the time," she slowly stepped closer, her head turning slightly to look for any unwanted ears out in the hallway prying into the conversation. Suddenly, she reached out and grabbed your wrist, although the grip was light; as she pulled you towards her, so her lips were lined to your ears.

"Yennefer hasn't been entirely honest with you. There are a lot of things you don't know, and you must know," you blinked, listening to her as she continued, "Now this mansion has ears, but if you wish to know more come find me, child. I will be at the tavern in the village below, just until dawn tomorrow."

Sneaking out of the mansion in the death of the night was easier than you had thought it would. Your face was almost covered, the cloak wrapped around your body, covering your face partially as you hurried down the secluded street of the village. You had walked for over a kilometer, and hadn't experienced anything dangerous so far, and you were thankful for it.

The village lights were finally in sight, and you breathed a sigh of relief, when someone caught your arm and pulled you to the side of the road. He pulled off the cloak off your face; and you were met with the Witcher's golden orbs, his lips pressed together in a firm line, that only told you that he wasn't happy with the way you had sneaked out.

"You followed me. All the way."

His nose twitched, and he let go off your arm, your fingers feeling tingling due to the lack of his touch.

"I wanted to see how reckless or stupid you could get," he mumbled, his voice raspy.

"And?" You parted your lips to let out your breath, still looking at him.

"You like to play with fire."

You rolled your eyes, and turned away as you began walking towards the village once more, and Geralt cursed under his breath, before he began following you.

"You think you can just leave in the middle of the night? I am arranging for you to leave, but like a normal human being, in the light of the day."

You let out a snort; your pace slowing down a bit to let the Witcher catch up with you, but you didn't stop walking. You turned your head slightly to look at him, "I'm not leaving, Geralt. I knew you were following me. I saw you."

Geralt's lips twitched, almost faintly but you caught it before he looked at you with all seriousness again.

"I'm sure you didn't want to just go out for a walk."

"Well—" Your hand flew to the back of your head, as you scratched it lightly, and pulled your gaze away. The village was already upon you. "— You wouldn't exactly have let me if I had asked for your permission."

"Fair."

Your eyes spotted the tavern, and a rush of adrenaline surged through you. You wouldn't lie; you were curious as to what was it that Tissaia knew, and you didn't.

"It's funny, Witcher, you barely used to say words to me. Look at you now."

He grunted in response to you, his own eyes now having captured the destination where you were headed; the tavern.

"The tavern?"

You ignored him as you stepped into the tavern, and your nose immediately scrunched upwards, as the horrid smell of ale; too much of it, filled in your nostrils. Ignoring the pang to throw up, your eyes began looking for Tissaia until you spotted her, sitting at the back, at a farther end, smiling and watching you. It was as though she knew you were coming.

"Tissaia de Vries?" Geralt mumbled, and you nodded. Before he could even stop you, you were striding towards her. He decided to simply follow you, now that he was here with you. It was better to keep his eye on you, in case she decided to pull up an antic.

"I see you're not alone, [Y/N]. Witcher." The sorceress nodded her head in his direction and motioned for the two of you to sit down on a bench in front of her. You looked at Geralt, and he craned his neck slightly, his eyes darting around, scanning the tavern for anything unusual, while you sat down. In a minute, he sat down too, the bench now feeling cramped with his massive frame just next to yours.

"Tell me what you told me earlier. About what Yennefer hid from me."

Geralt tensed beside you and you chose deliberately not to look at him, at the mention of her name, keeping your eyes fixed on the sorceress in front of you.

"I think it's time, Geralt. Yennefer's been keeping things from you, I thought you would have understood, but unfortunately—"

"Tissaia, I don't understand what game you are playing," Geralt leaned forward, his palm placed on the table, his eyes narrowed at her, his shoulders tense.

"Geralt," you whispered, "let her speak."

The White Wolf grumbled under his breath, but didn't say anything else. His shoulders remained tense, heat radiating from his body; that you could feel but you were too curious to listen to the sorceress to feel any different.

"There are certain spells that can take a human's life," Tissaia began, her solemn eyes now fixed on you, "they are strong enough to destroy a human body. Because a human body isn't strong enough to take it." She leaned forward, letting her elbows rest against the table as she picked a piece of red meat and tossed it into her mouth, chewing on it and swallowing it. "The point is, the spell that Yennefer used, to grow his child within you wasn't an ordinary spell. No human can endure the power of that spell, and come out unscathed. You did."

You turned towards Geralt and shot him a look, before turning back to the sorceress again, "I don't get it. I survived the spell. Which is why this happened," your hand flew to your belly, and you looked down at your stomach, feeling Geralt's gaze on it too, before the two of you turned towards her again and she nodded.

"You think it was a mere coincidence that Yennefer picked you, out of all the women in the world, to carry that baby?" She pointed to your stomach.

"I needed the coin."

"The coin was a facade, child."

She turned towards the Witcher and he blinked, "You didn't know it too, Wolf. She never mentioned [Y/N] before, did she? I doubt it. Yennefer never betrays her own plans."

"Get to the fucking point, Tissaia," Geralt growled, and you shifted uncomfortably towards him, agreeing with him on this. Tissaia was making you uncomfortable.

"Twenty five years back, Queen Calanthe gave birth to a girl, this was before Pavetta was born. Someone stole the baby the night she was born, but they never found her."

"I think we should leave." Geralt intervened.

You turned towards Geralt, confused and helpless, before turning back to the sorceress again.

"That baby had the Elder Blood running through her veins. She had immense power, power that could disrupt everything around her by just one scream from her throat."

"What happened to the baby?" You asked; your heart thumping wildly against your chest.

"That baby grew up until Yennefer of Vengerberg found her in Redania, and a Witcher put his child in her."

Tissaia found herself a smile, you couldn't help but gasp, and Geralt just deadpanned, "Well, fuck."

"You're telling me that I'm the Princess of Cintra? Gods you must be mistaken, I don't know anything about magic. I'm just a commoner that got trapped by these two for coin." You turned towards him, giving him a glare, and he grunted in response.

"You were never trapped, you chose to do it."

"You think Yennefer wants to be a mother?" Tissaia spoke again, but this time, her eyes were on Geralt. You glanced from him to her, and then back, until you had your eyes fixed on his uncomfortable form. His fingers had clenched into a fist. "Combine the Elder blood, with a Witcher's blood. No sorceress is powerful enough against that baby." She pointed towards your stomach, and instinctively, your palm flew towards it, trying to shield your bump from the woman's eyes. You felt Geralt stiffen too; as he shifted towards you, his own protective side spilling out at those words as he glanced at you.

"If you knew your lover well, White Wolf, you would have known. Her lust for power would never end. She wants that baby because that baby is the key for her to slide to the top."

Geralt swallowed thickly. His palm came to rest against the table in front of him, his grip tightening over it, his knuckles almost turning white. He knew Yennefer was power hungry; but never had he realized that her hunger was now out of control. He felt stupid now, and more than stupid, he felt relentless rage, because she had played him. All this while, he thought that she wanted his child— but all she wanted was a Witcher's child, mixed with the Elder Blood, so she could have, for herself, the most powerful magic yielder in the form of a child.

"It wasn't a coincidence then, that Yennefer wanted me to carry this baby," you whispered to Geralt who just looked at you blankly. You then turned to Tissaia, who tossed a piece of red meat into her mouth once again, her eyes fixed on you, "What power does Yennefer have over me?"

She smirked slightly, as though she had thought about this quite a lot.

"Well, your powers need to be harnessed, which is why she has an edge over you. Once you do learn to harness your powers, Yennefer wouldn't be a problem." She suddenly closed her eyes, and her lips started moving as she began chanting something and your eyebrow shot up. Within seconds, she was already done. "She wouldn't be able to track you for a while. You can go wherever you want. The effect of the spell should last five to six days."

Somewhere outside, a rooster suddenly crowed, signalling that it was morning. Tissaia de Vries suddenly lowered her cloak so that it covered her face.

"It's dawn, I will take your leave, [Y/N]. Find me whenever you need me," You watched, numbly, only nodding your head at her as she stood up, and placed her hand on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly until she was already out of sight. You kept sitting there, bellowed in silence, both of you breathing laboured, lost in your own thoughts.

Geralt finally pulled you out of your thoughts, "A Princess? I need a fucking drink."

Geralt stood up and walked away, to get himself a drink. You just kept staring at him, too shocked to even react, or process anything. This was all too much to process in a single night. You were a Princess, and not just any Princess, you had Elder Blood running through your veins.

Your baby —

You pressed your palm to your mouth, rather abruptly and stood up, dashing towards the exit of the tavern.

Geralt's head shot towards you like missile as he watched you leave.

You ran outside, Geralt's heavy footsteps racing behind you as you bent over in a corner and began throwing up.

Geralt's warm palm fixed on your lower back; and you felt him pull your hair away from your face, holding them up for you while his other hand ran soothing circles over your lower back.

You weakly stood up straighter, but your legs suddenly felt weak which is why you held on to the wall for support, as you wiped the corners of your mouth with your sleeve.

"Too much information for one night," You muttered in a low voice, your eyes not meeting Geralt's.

"Not the only one," Geralt responded, his lips twitching with humour, but that immediately washed away when you tried taking a step towards him but found yourself unable to hold yourself on your feet. He reached out, grabbing you by your shoulders to steady you to your feet.

Finally, letting out a soft exhale, the Witcher bent, and lifted you up in his arms, almost effortlessly, his hand holding you from the base of your thighs. Your hand wrapped around the Witcher's neck almost reflexively, as he held you against his chest and began walking back.

The first few minutes were quiet, until you finally spoke— your fingers unknowingly playing with the Witcher's hair.

"This complicates things."

He hummed in response but chose to stay quiet; so you continued.

"Where does this leave you, Geralt? Because I have .. already made up my mind."

A silence took over the two of you, causing you to flick your gaze to the side of his face. His lips were pursed together, as though he was thinking. You didn't stop toying with the strands of his hair, and neither did he stop you. Finally, he exhaled, and craned his neck slightly lower so he could look at you.

"And what did you decide?"

You bit the insides of your cheeks nervously. Geralt had been nice to you, until today, if you were to ignore the first few weeks you had known him. You had seen the change in the man; having grown from cold to lukewarm towards you, but that didn't mean you didn't know what Yennefer meant to him. Now, would Geralt really let you go? Especially.. if you were carrying his baby?

"I .. I want to go home.. to Cintra.. I want to see my mother, I want to.. see my kingdom, and I want to learn to harness .. my magic.." You whispered.

Geralt nodded, but he didn't reply.

He slowly let you down, and you looked up to realize that you had been so distracted talking to Geralt, you hadn't realized that you were standing on the bottom most step that led to the sorceress' mansion.

"I won't stop you."

You abruptly stopped walking when you heard those words, your legs almost freezing when you felt that he wasn't behind you anymore. You turned back around to find him standing on the bottom most step while you had already made your way to the door.

"Thank you, Geralt. For everything."

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[jay-and-dean]

Yet another thing to celebrate

Dean x reader

Summary (I used the requester’s words) :  Reader’s birthday is on Christmas Eve, which generally sucks because everyone is either skint or celebrating Christmas.

Warnings : Fluffy fluff with a little fluff whipped cream on top. Very implied smut.

Wordcount : 3.6k

Note : This is my fic for @girl-next-door-writes Secret Santa (I reaaally hope you like it lovely, merry Christmas and happy birthday) hosted by @negans-lucille-tblr​ on @spnsecretsantaficexchange​.

I also made my participation to the amazing @acklesterritory​‘s celebration challenge, in the fic, my prompt was “I saw that, you just checked me out”, it’s bold in the fic.

The song refered to is She’s always a woman, by Billie Joel.

The text dividers are from the great @firefly-graphics​

Jay’s Masterlist

          Christmas…

           Before you even open your eyes, you sigh, grabbing the soft pillow in your fist and nuzzling on its softness in a sleepy grunt.

You don’t hate this day, but it often makes you a little sad despite your will to enjoy it fully. It is your birthday. December 24, the busiest day in the country, damn, in the whole West. And even if you are not the kind to want the full attention on you, to be spoiled or anything, you just wish sometimes that, for once, you could have a proper birthday.

           When you were a teen, you more than once even dared dreaming of a party you could throw, but Christmas is about family and basically about everyone. Not you.

           You dream of a little birthday party with friends, some drinks, music, maybe dancing a little... But it would be impossible unless you do it way before or way after, and it wouldn't really be the same...

           This year is different though.

           This winter, even if the celebration of your birth was totally forgotten, you don’t need anything more than what you have now. And what you have is Dean Winchester. Nothing is more important than that, nothing can make you happier.

           In fact, nothing can really make you feel any other way than blessed after this summer. After Dean kissed you on that hunt, after you two had sex in the Impala on your way home ; after later he asked you to stay in his bed for the night that other evening you both ended up naked. And finally, after he asked you to stay in his room for good a few weeks later, and started calling you his girlfriend.

           You smile thinking of waking up next to him and move your feet to find his behind you. But when you don’t, you turn and rub your eyes before opening them.

           Empty. Your shared bed is empty.

“Dean ?” is the first word you say, but the room stays cruelly silent.

Of course… It’s Christmas. He must be busy, like everyone is always on that day… The sting on your heart comes back... You have woken up with the man you love every single morning for the last few months, but not today.

           That is how lame your birthday can be.

           After staying in bed almost one hour, trying to shake that blues off by thinking of how blessed you are, you finally are about to get up and face that stolen day, but the door opens slowly.

           You close your eyes, not really knowing why, maybe just to avoid having to find an explanation for not getting up before if you were awake. The bed moves under Dean’s weight as he crawls on it slowly but you don’t move, even when he clumsily crushes your arm a little while hovering you.

“Happy birthday Baby” he whispers with his coffee breath close to your face. “Have you decided to skip today ? It’s almost noon.”

“Mh…” you hum, lifting your arms to reach his neck, desperate to feel his skin. “Thank you.”

You hesitate a second, wanting to ask him why he got up without you today, why he didn’t wake you with kisses and sweet words like he often does, but you don’t say anything, grateful enough that he got tired of you not being with him and came to get you.

           He lets a part of his weight fall on you, making you huff and laugh softly. His scruff scratches your shoulder, the rough fabric of his jeans is uncomfortable and his belt is digging to your hip but you wouldn't change a thing.

           Your hand goes to his neck and massages it softly, he hums, and you feel his body softly relax. You always know just how to calm him, how to make him fall back asleep after a nightmare, how to make his muscles calm after the roughest hunts. But after less than a minute, he grunts, sitting up.

"No, no" he shakes his head. "You're not making me skip that day with you ! Get up Baby."

He grabs your shoulders and playfully shake them, not realizing that even his kidding strength is huge.

"Geeet uuuup" he chuckles when your whole body is shaken and your laugh sounds funny because of it.

           The warm water runs along your hair and down your spine, and a soft steam fills the bathroom. For sure, that was a great late breakfast, with pancakes Dean had made for you, and his little stolen kisses.

           He is really making this day better.

           Maybe you can forget about your birthday now, and just enjoy Christmas like a normal person. You are loved, and you are happy, you don't need anything else.

           Washing your hair, you smile thinking of the tree the boys have bought, so big that they struggled to carry it up the stairs. You chuckle at thinking of Dean grumbling about the thorns covering Baby's seats. They even bought bags mysterious decorations and fairy lights they never let you see. The library now smells like Christmas tree.

           We're celebrating this year, Dean said. And in the years you have known the Winchesters, you indeed never saw them put so much effort in a holiday.

           A lot of things keep surprising you.

           Sam once told you that his brother had changed a lot since he was with you, making you worry more than anything else. You never wanted Dean to change, you love Dean just the way he is... Then you understood what Sammy was saying...

           You understood in the little things. Like Dean's new love for late mornings in bed, like him drinking a little less, being a little less reckless during hunts, humming in the shower, letting go more in bed, allowing himself to give up the constant control he has on himself... And in his will to celebrate Christmas. Dean is not different, he is just happier.

           Your eyes get a little wet with joy at the thought while your rub your body with the delicious smelling foam.

           Forget your birthday, if Dean's happiness demands this day to be the Christmas he didn't have as a kid, the Christmas he is finally allowing himself to want, then you are honored to help him make it perfect.

           You step out of the shower and your eyes meet the big mirror. In the middle of it, written with a big finger on the thick steam : "I love you Y/n".

           Your choice is made : This will be Christmas. This will be anything to make that man as lucky as you are.

"How can I help ?" you say, entering the kitchen where Dean is apparently trying to make cookies, wearing this apron he only puts on for great occasions.

"I'm making cookies men like in Shrek" he says pointing to the not-so-bad gingerbread biscuits he already cooked with his finger covered in dough.

           You come behind him and wrap your arms around his middle, forehead on his back, just feeling his breathing for a second. Dean doesn't stop what he is doing because he is used to you tenderly and randomly holding him, his clean fingers only come to gently caress your arm for a second before he shapes another cookie, chuckling when he adds a tiny penis to the little guy.

"I love you too" you murmur, nose grazing his back to bath in his smell.

He hums.

"We will eat dinner pretty early, I hope you're hungry" he says, looking at his watch. "I want to enjoy some time with my girl after."

You smile, getting on your tiptoes to kiss the uncovered skin of his neck above the collar of his flannel. He wants a lazy evening, making love like you do, or maybe try a kinky thing ; what is sure is you will gladly give him what he wants.

           Time goes by sweetly as you watch this deadly warrior check the turkey while his equally legendary warrior brother prepares another round of eggnog for the three of you. They move around like busy bees in the room and it's a perfect show.

           You sit on the counter, talking about silly things, sometimes doing something to help, when your boyfriend lets you. You keep sipping from the sugary drink, and watching the beauty of Dean just be before your eyes. Unaware of how perfect he is in his every moves, he just works with his strong arms and skilled hands.

           Your eyes linger a little along his thick thighs, and you bend your head to the side to enjoy the exquisite sight of the sensual curve of his butt.

"I saw that, you just checked me out" he says in a smile without even turning around.

"And ?" you let out in a chuckle. "What are you going to do about that ?"

At your surprise, he starts to rock his hips from right to left slowly in clumsy funny moves of his butt, like he wanted to sexy dance for you without stopping what he is doing, earning an eye roll from his brother when his hip hits him on his way.

           Christmas is already perfect.

           The table is beautiful. Different courses in pretty plates you didn't know the guys had filling it like you have only seen in the movies. There is way too much food for three people but you are so happy that your beloved Winchester can eat like they want for Christmas eve.

           Everything is pretty, the giant messy tree has real bright decorations on it and there are even a few presents at its feet, wrapped messily in colorful papers.

           But their most impressive work is the light in the room, changing the place completely. Almost none of the artificial lights of the bunker is on, and a subdued ambiance with fairy lights and candles make it look even more magical than it usually is.

"When did you find the time to do all that ?" you smile with unintended wetness in your enthralled eyes. "It looks... enchanted in here."

"You stayed in bed until noon" Dean says in a light chuckle, pulling a chair for you and putting a kiss on your cheek. "Merry Christmas baby."

"It's perfect, Deanie" you turn your head so his next kiss lands on the corner of your mouth. "Merry Christmas guys."

Sam sits, rubbing his hands at the sight of the turkey, and starts reminding his brother of an old memory of a past Christmas you listen with all your focus. Everything that can make you know more about their life always catches your full attention. You are, after all, their biggest fan.

           The story is about a Christmas when Dean was a teen. He had spent the night between 23th and 24th December with a girl and was really late to come back to the motel. Sam thought maybe he wouldn't be back for diner, he had already taken the cereals out of the closet when Dean showed up carrying the whole cooked Turkey he had stolen from the girl's parents.

           You look at your boyfriend with all the love in the world and bend to give him a kiss on the forearm while he cuts a piece of this not stolen meat for you.

"Her parents were dicks, and I couldn't let you starve, dad would have killed me" Dean chuckles, filling your plate.

           But you know the story must be really different from just that, Dean never brags about how great he was with Sam.

           You let out a little moan, tasting the food and Dean’s face is lit by a wide proud grin.

“It’s good ?” he asks before he even tastes, an excited hope in his eyes.

“Delischious” you answer with your mouth full, a hand before it.

           And indeed, everything is perfect. Dean, as much as Sam can playfully denies it, is a great cook. He has no technique, no cooking education, but what he has is a real love for food and comfort, a great experience on mixing things and tasting that gives him a perfect intuition. And, above all, the strong selfless will of saying "I love you" with food like some people have.

           Sitting on the floor next to the tree, you hold against you the red flannel Dean finally agreed to give you, and the books Sam bought for you. Your head is leaning lovingly on your lover's shoulder while he looks, exited, at the vinyl records he got, humming his favorite songs.

           You crawl between his thighs and rest your back on his chest, your head back, temple grazing his scruff.

"Best Christmas ever" you smile, feeling his lips graze your cheek. "So what is the program of a Winchester Christmas after that ?"

You close your eyelid and take a deep breath of Dean's scent, expecting a sexy proposition.

"We're going somewhere" he smiles, and, when you open your eyes, you see Sam put on his coat.

"Now ?" you frown, a little confused. "Where ?"

Dean gets up, putting you on your feet with his strong arm, and takes his coat and yours from Sam's hands.

"I'm not telling you. Take your jacket and get in the car."

           He is silent on the road despite all your questions.

           You listen to the car's purring and look outside to try to guess where they are taking you. The white snow covers the sides of the road with a very thin and delicate layer, the headlights are hit with little swirling snowflakes, and no clue betrays their surprise.

           Sam is smiling, looking out the window. You know they have been planning something, and you know you will love it. Maybe they will show you a place they used to go when they were kids, maybe take you to a special place where you can see the stars so clearly, like this time last summer.

"Come on Dean" you say, kneeling on Baby's back seat to wrap your arms around him from behind, going down a little to feel his firm chest though his shirt under your palms. "Tell me."

"You can't wait just five minutes" he tries to grunt, but it sounds more like a chuckle.

           You fall silent, not letting go of him, holding him like the precious treasure he is, occasionally smelling his hair, kissing his shoulder and tracing the contours of his ear. You just can't stop touching him, and since that talk you had after sex once, you know how much he loves it.

"Aw" Sam mocks you like he often does. "You two are so cute."

"Fuck yeah we are" Dean groans, turning right to a one way road.

"You know Christmas is already perfect" you smile. "You don't have to surprise me again."

"Yeah, I know" he says, parking in front of a bar. "But, it's not only Christmas today."

           You look around, confused. The guys open the door, letting the freezing cold enter the Impala, and get out in a perfect sync. You follow them, lifting your eyes to the colorful neon lights reflecting in the snowy night. Around on the parking lot, more cars than you would have expected are parked, and you wonder who would spend Christmas eve in a bar like this one.

           But before you can wonder why they would have taken you there, to this bar you never heard off, your boyfriend's hand wraps around your waist and he guides you inside, pushing the heavy doors.

           The first thing that hits you is the perfect warmth of the inside. The temperature is perfect but not only : the music is smooth like honey, it's this kind of blues that is paradoxically happy and comforting, it smells like wood and whiskey ; and above all, here too, there is something about the light that feels like a hug.

           The second thing that hits you is the welcoming familiar face of Garth smiling to you.

"Garth ?" you frown and feel Dean's lips graze your ear. "Happy birthday Baby."

He lets go of you to walk to the people there at the bar, arms open to greet them, letting you stunned.

           You are recognizing all you friends there, still in their Christmas clothes, walking to you to hug you and bring you drinks and for a few seconds, your body just stays still.

           No one is missing, not one person. And, even if you don't have hundreds of friends since you joined the hunter life, you have never seen a room so full of love.

"Let me take your coat" Jody says, seeing you froze to the spot.

"I... You're here for me ? Th-they planned all that ?" you stammer with some watery emotions filling your eyes.

"Dean did" Jody smiles. "We followed."

             You're sipping from that delicious drink the bartender made according to your tastes, unable to take that smile off of your face. Donna, a little tipsy in her pretty outfit, is telling sexy jokes with a full dimpled smile, making Sam chuckle and Charlie high-five her, spilling a little of her drink on you.

           From the corner of your eye, you look at him.

           He is bending on the pool table with a smirk, his beer next to him. From here, you can't hear what he is saying to the other players, but it seems a little cocky. After only a few seconds staring at him, it's like he felt it and he looks up, giving you the cutest wink.

           And you blush. Because even after all you have lived together, even after the kinky experiences, the intimate moments, after seeing him cry, yell, suffer or come... A wink is still enough to turn you to a blushing mess.

           All evening, he has been keeping his distance just a little. Not avoiding you at all but not clinging to you, to let you enjoy your friends, to let you have the full experience of a birthday party like you dreamed of since you were a teen.

           A birthday with loud silly discussions, a lot of drinks, inventing silly tipsy games with your best friends, trading your clothes in the bathroom, catching up as much as dancing with each other... And you never felt loved that much.

           Dean's love is the sun in the middle of your world, but now you can also see the stars, and it is probably the best night of your life so far.

           He managed to do something you never could for years and all your friends agreed with his crazy plan. They all had an early Christmas diner to be able to drive here, offer you too many drinks and be there for you. They all made it about you and you're both incredibly grateful and emotional. And since most of them will come sleep at the bunker -and eat all the leftovers with you tomorrow- you don't have to care about the time.

           Suddenly, a music note catches your ear.

           You know that note by heart. It is the first note of your favorite love song, it is the firsts notes of what Dean hums in your ear sometimes when he holds you after making love to you, pushing your hair on the side to see your sweaty bliss face.

           You turn you head and meet green eyes, closer than you expected.

"Hey" he says, taking your hand.

"Hey" you smile.

He tugs gently at your arm, pulling you away from the bar to wrap his arms around your waist.

           You have missed him. Of course he was here, but after everything he has done for you, you really have missed holding him, smelling his skin and kissing his lips.

           He starts to sway his hips really slightly, humming the love words of the song, and you throw your arms around his neck, looking up at his perfect face.

"She can kill with a smile, she can wound with her eyes..." he whispers the lyrics, fingers grazing the skin of your neck.

And for the hundredth time today, your eyes fill with happy tears while his fingertips go down on your back to hold your waist again.

"Are you having fun ?" he asks low, one hand stroking your lower back tenderly, thumb pushing your shirt up discreetly to feel your skin.

"It's the best night of my life" you give him your most sincere smile. "Dean... You are really incredible, you know that ?"

"Yeah" he nods, hiding his shyness in a kiss on your lips.

"I really was ready to chose Christmas, you know ?" you state, swaying your hips slowly with him, forgetting the rest of the world in your bubble of love.

His plumb lips gently raise on the corner, and he lets go of you to search his pocket.

"I didn't have to choose between hunter life and happy life thanks to you, so I'll make sure you never have to choose between your birthday and Christmas" he murmurs in your ear, before kissing your temple.

His hand reach yours and he opens it to put a little thing on your palm.

"What do you say we had yet another thing to celebrate on that day ?" his breath tickles  your neck and you look down to your hand, discovering a little golden ring with a tiny blue stone in the middle of your shaking palm.

"Dean ?"

"Marry me Baby ?"

FEEDBACK IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME

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[eryiss]

Ship: Freed x Laxus

Rating: Teen

Summary: Laxus has returned to the guild, but is still scared of not being accepted. Freed does what he can to help, and insists that Laxus attend some of the events held in the guildhall. Over the course of a year, and four different parties, the guild starts feeling like home again. And Freed, well... Freed has something to confess.

Notes: Hi. This was a little thing I wrote becuase I haven't done enough canon-verse writing; that and I want to procrastonate from uni work. I hope you all enjoy it, and sorry for any mistakes.

Links: FFN, Ao3

Part of the Party

The Summer Solstice

Freed was, despite what some might claim, rather fond of parties. Not so much in the way a typical Fairy Tail mage might do; he didn't find pleasure in getting as drunk as his body would allow, starting a fight, and collapsing in the mountain of rubble they'd created. Rather, he went to the guild parties to nurse a glass of wine, watch the inevitable decline in both intelligence and balance of his friends, and watch from the side-lines. It was his own form of enjoyment, and yet it had somehow given him the reputation as, as one of his guildmates had so eloquently put it, a boring stick-in-the-mud bastard.

That had been Natsu, who at that moment was wobbling haphazardly towards the bar, hugging Pantherlilly as if he were his own cat, singing at the top of his lungs with neither pitch nor tone. Hardly a reputable source of judgment, Freed concluded.

Still, that was the reputation he had gained, and he wasn't helping that tonight.

Rather, he was making it worse. From the moment he had arrived he had refused any drinks, had perched himself at a table on the second floor as to overlook the party but not be a part of it, and hardly spoken to anybody; not the most convivial actions for celebrating the summer solstice. It hadn't been for lack of wanting to be involved, but rather out of necessity. This was Laxus' first guild event since he had returned, and he hadn't been entirely enthusiastic to go.

It was a problem that had Freed worried. Laxus had been accepted back with open arms, and yet he was still skittish around anyone other than the Raijinshuu. He had been forgiven, but didn't seem to believe it, and avoided everyone as much as he could. Freed knew that, had he not been forceful with his friend, Laxus would have spent the night alone.

So they'd made a deal. Laxus would attend the party, but he was allowed to leave at any moment.

Freed felt that this was maybe too big a step taken too quickly, and he'd only realised that as they approached the guildhall. Laxus was… off-kilter, and this might push him over the edge. So, he had decided that if the worse did happen, Freed would be sober and waiting to help Laxus with it. But it didn't look like he needed it.

"You can't just watch him all night, you know," Mirajane commented as she walked up the stairs, holding a glass of chocolate milkshake; if he couldn't have alcohol, Freed would indulge in other ways. "You might enjoy yourself more. He's doing okay."

"I know," Freed agreed, taking the drink and placing the used glass from earlier on Mirajane's tray. "But I think, the longer he's down there alone, the better. He needs to be fully submerged without his crutch."

"His crutch being you, Ever and Bicks?" Mirajane asked, and Freed nodded. "That's why they're avoiding him, then."

"Indeed, although I suspect Ever would gravitate towards your brother no matter what," Freed chuckled a little, and Mirajane preened a little at the reminder. "Though I must admit, Bickslow, Loke and Natsu being so close does concern me. They're chaotic enough as is, I'd rather not deal with them all together."

"I think they're playing tic-tac-toe," Mirajane frowned a little. "I think it's only a matter of time before Loke suggests making it strip tic-tac-toe, but it's innocent enough right now."

"Perhaps bring me a bucket of water, I could probably pour it over them all from here should they get too involved in their game," Freed mused aloud, and Mirajane laughed a little at the thought.

They both remained in silence for a while, Freed watching as Laxus had a somewhat awkward looking conversation with Reedus, who seemed to be requesting Laxus model for a painting sometimes in the future. Freed smiled a little, hearing Laxus say that he'd consider it; a step in the right direction already. Before his excommunication, Laxus wouldn't have given a second before denying the request, it was nice for him to be making the effort.

Too engrossed in his pride for his friend, Freed missed the slightly sad look on Mirajane's face as she looked down at him. Because of this, when she spoke again, Freed found himself on the back foot and ill-prepared.

"Have you told him yet?" She asked, voice soft but words making Freed freeze. She continued. "It's just that you said that you would, and I really do think he'd-"

"It's not the time," Freed spoke softly, but with firmness.

"When will the time be, Freed?"

"He's," Freed began, but stopped and sighed. "His life is a mess right now. He has nowhere to live other than my sofa, feels like the place he's called home for most of his life doesn't want him there, and doesn't know what to do. It would be cruel to add something else onto that."

"I understand that, but it might be nice for him," Mirajane shrugged. "He likes you back, he always has. He's just not been ready for you until now."

"Well, if that's the case, then we can both wait until things are a little less precarious," Freed stated, putting an end to the conversation.

Mirajane didn't seem to want to push, so Freed looked over the banister to the lower floor to see that Laxus' conversation with Reedus had ended. He looked a little lost for a moment, and Freed let a smile flicker onto his face before it immediately died. Laxus couldn't see it yet, but Lucy was approaching him. She, more than anyone else in the guild, was the person Laxus was most scared of speaking with. He had been avoiding her like the plague, and by the expression of determination on her face, she had noticed.

Freed wanted to intercept, or at least break his own rule and be there beside Laxus. Many times, Laxus had expressed regret for how he had treated his guildmates, and more than anyone else he believed Lucy could not forgive him. Many of the others had known Laxus before his shift in character, but Lucy had only seen him at his worth. He couldn't believe that she would give him any benefit of the doubt.

He clearly didn't know her. Freed had thought that way, until he'd been forced to speak with her about fixing his issue with his hair – something that should have been humiliating, but had instead been easy, and without complication. The woman was kind, nothing less.

"He'll be fine," Mirajane assured Freed. "She just wants to get to know him, and he's been okay with everyone else. It'll be fine."

"I know," Freed said, not believing his own words.

They watched from afar as Lucy finally came face to face with Laxus. He was clearly tense, face unmoving and words stilted. Lucy seemed unaffected, chatting away as she so often didn't with enthusiasm and with cheerfulness. Freed had often wondered how so much optimism could be contained in a single person, but he was glad for it now. This was good, it was going fine.

Until it wasn't.

Freed couldn't hear what had been said, but without warning, Laxus erupted into lightning. He was consumed by it within a moment, and bolts of flickering magic shot out of the door, breaking it open and lighting up the city as it darted through the streets. Laxus was gone, and Lucy was left with her mouth agape, silent in her shock. Freed hissed, placing his milkshake on the table and storming towards the staircase. Teleportation runes had consumed him before he had reached the top step, and he found himself in his sitting room, with Laxus on the sofa, hunched over, crying weakly and trying to stop.

With a small breath, Freed stepped forward and placed a hand on Laxus' shoulder. Laxus tensed, but leaned into it.

"I am so proud of you," Freed whispered. "You were spectacular, and did so well."

Laxus didn't respond. That was how the rest of the night went, until Laxus' tears subsided, and he slept curled up, head resting on Freed's lap. All in all, despite how it had ended, Freed knew that this had been good for Laxus, and was something of a breakthrough for him. As the man gently snored, and Freed ran his hands through his hair, Freed repeated himself in a quiet whisper.

"I am so damn proud of you, Laxus."

---

Freed's Birthday

The singing was a little too much, Freed found.

Discordant, with its volume inversely proportionate to its talent, it sounded somewhat like a bag of cats trying to fight with a set of bagpipes in the middle of a tornado. Well, perhaps that was slightly hyperbolic and fanciful, but he'd had his fair share of champagne throughout the day and as such was allowed to enjoy his creative side.

He'd awoken to his team making him breakfast – pancakes, pain au chocolates, and cinnamon rolls – before he had been taken to the guild. As normal, it was a loud and rowdy affair. The peculiar tradition of his yearly fight with Natsu took place, a grand meal had been prepared, and he'd been sung to. Very very loudly.

Still, it was a nice day. A tradition.

It was good to have Laxus there, too. The blonde had been present for the breakfast, and Freed had expected that would be it for his inclusion of the day. A month had passed since the summer solstice party, and Laxus' time spent in the guildhall was still minimal. Other steps had been made – he'd modelled for Reedus, set up a weekly training session with Gajeel, and went on an incredibly unexpected mission with Happy – but he still struggled with the guild as a whole. He confessed that their team spirit was too much, and it felt like he was intruding.

Freed didn't want to push him. The first party had kicked him into action, and now Laxus was getting to know his guildmembers both old and new, and if doing so one-by-one was what it took then so be it.

But, Laxus had come. He'd eaten, drunk, and Freed had caught sight of him and Gajeel laughing together while the rest of the guild sang at him. It was nice to see, and it had made the signing more bearable. Slightly more bearable, anyway.

Then, the presents came.

As always, they were an onslaught of gifts, some personalised, others more general. Levy had gotten him a first edition copy of 'The Mechanics of Magic', Erza a grindstone to polish his sword on, Reedus a painting containing all of his team and Laxus in the heat of battle, and Lucy a set of quills and ink. He thanked them all graciously, touched by the effort that had been spent on them. His guildmates really were too kind.

The thought made him look up, glancing towards where Laxus had been. Freed hoped that, upon seeing the forgiveness and open kindness he was receiving, Laxus might feel more involved himself. When he looked up, he saw that Laxus had left the guildhall.

Dammit.

He sat through the rest of the gifts, trying to remain focused but unable to feel bad. Eventually they ended, and the party moved onto the next stage: Gajeel and his guitar. If Laxus' departure wasn't excuse enough for Freed to leave the guildhall and go into the courtyard, then the music certainly was.

Once outside, it didn't take him long to find where Laxus had ended up. Freed had hoped that his friend hadn't left altogether, and was gratified when he saw him sitting on the edge of the pool, his boots bedside him and his trousers rolled up. Freed smiled as he walked forward, kicking off his own shoes and folding his own trousers to his knees. He sat beside Laxus, letting his calves rest limply in the cold water in the pool. Laxus shifted a little, clearly in his own head and not having noticed Freed's approach.

"Hey," He murmured quietly. "Sorry I didn't… I couldn't… just got a bit much, y'know."

"I understand," Freed said immediately. "I'm impressed that you managed to-"

"You don't need to do that. I appreciate it, but I don't need you telling me that I'm making steps," Laxus argued, smiling a little. He bumped his shoulder into Freed's, as if to make sure Freed knew he'd taken no offence.

"Very well," Freed nodded. "I'm glad you're here though, it wouldn't have felt right without you."

"I can't let my right-hand man celebrate his birthday without me," Laxus grinned, and Freed chuckled quietly, lifting his foot and watching the ripples that the action caused. "Speaking of which, I should give you this," Laxus leant away from Freed for a moment, reached for something, and handed Freed a hastily wrapped box. He didn't meet Freed's eye when he handed it to him. "I was gonna give it to you in the morning, but wanted to force myself to come here so held off. So, erm, happy birthday."

"Thank you, Laxus," Freed smiled, taking the box with a smile.

"You don't know what it is yet," Laxus grinned a little. "Bicks didn't get you a speedo this year, maybe I wanted to keep up the tradition."

"If you did, then there would be a sense of irony because you'd be the one ended up in the pool," Freed chuckled. "And he did, actually. Somehow, and I can only blame Mirajane for this, he had it baked into my slice of the cake," Laxus barked out a laugh. "It was lime green. In a few years' time I'll have a whole rainbow of them."

"Wonder what he'll do when he runs outta colours," Laxus grinned, before nudging Freed again. "Open it."

Freed did as instructed, and halted a little when he realised what it was. It was an Armillary Sphere. It seemed to be made from solid gold, shining under the lamps strewn across the courtyard. He gently ran his hands over the incremental engravings, adjusting the device slowly with a look of wonderment on his face.

"It's beautiful," He whispered. "How did you…"

"I don't know if you remember, but we did a mission together a couple years back and finished it early. We got pretty pissed after, since neither of us had had a break for a while," Laxus was a little red in the face. "We were lying in a clearing somewhere, looking at the stars. And you suddenly started naming them all, telling me all the stories associated with the consolations. You kept going, you could even figure out our coordinates based on what we could see. You just kept talking about stars, and astronomy and I never forgot it. You mentioned that you used to have one of these in yer old house, and I saw it in an antique store before I came back to the guild and thought you might have liked it."

"It's incredible," Freed was a little breath taken. The fact Laxus had brought it before returning to the guild was just… "Thank you, Laxus. It's… perhaps one of the nicest things someone has done for me."

"Aw don't say that," Laxus laughed a little, but there was a quaver in his words. "Not when I've got the heights of the speedo collection to contend with. And what did Gray get ya? A monocle? Who the hell put him up to that?"

"In fairness, I did gift him a scarf for his last birthday. Which, with him is the equivalent of throwing a pebble into an active volcano with how long it'll stay on his body," Freed chuckled. "I did tell him that, so I suspect the monocle is his act of revenge."

Laxus made a little laugh, leaning back on his hands and watching the ripples across the water. Freed did the same, shifting slightly and allowing his side to press gently against Laxus'. Laxus didn't move, and Freed had a soft smile across his features as he allowed a yawn to split his lips. A party was nice and all, but this was better.

---

Halloween

"Fuck," Laxus gaped as he looked at Freed. "You take this seriously, huh?"

Freed chuckled a little at Laxus' reaction. As demanded by Bickslow, Freed had kept his costume a secret from everyone, including Laxus. That had been a difficult feat, given that Freed had removed his desk and books from his office, turned it back into a bedroom and they had become official roommates. The costume had been tucked away in the back of his closet for a month, and this was the first time anyone other than Freed himself had seen it.

As always, the Raijinshuu went in a themed costume. This year, fighters throughout history. Evergreen had insisted on being a Viking, Bickslow had chosen an old Rune Amry uniform, and Freed had decided on a gladiator.

The costume was hardly the most accurate, historically speaking, but Freed liked it. His torso was covered by a leather chest plate, complete with straps to hold it in place, a single metal shoulder guard, and a red cape that hung to his lower back. His modesty was protected by a tunic which ended above his knees. He had also adorned sandals that wrapped around his legs, and he'd forgone the helmet as it seemed unnecessary in the end. The look was completed with his sword that was attached to his hip, as normal.

"I forgot, you haven't seen any of our costumes, have you," Freed chuckled. "What do you think."

"It's…" Laxus seemed to pause for a moment. "Good. Really good- creative, I mean. You put a lot of effort into it."

"Thank you for noticing," Freed smiled. "Are you ready to go?"

"Give me a couple minutes to change," Laxus dismissed, and Freed frowned as Laxus retreated into his bedroom.

Laxus had been adamant that he wouldn't wear any costumes at all, because he wasn't into that kind of thing. It was what Freed had expected, and honestly he was happy that Laxus was willing to come at all. Laxus had been at the guild more often lately, and Freed felt that maybe his birthday party had helped with that. Perhaps it was nice to know that Laxus could get some time alone, gather his thoughts, but still be a part of the guild's events.

Freed sat on the sofa for a moment, having to adjust his position when he realised that his tunic had a tendency to ride up and show… everything. Better to know now than to make the mistake in the guild where his friends would be delighted to mock him for it.

Maybe he should allow for another anachronism and wear some boxers…

The door to Laxus' room opened, and Freed looked towards him immediately. A spluttering of laughter slipped out before Freed could stop it, and Laxus raised an eyebrow at him, amusement obvious in his face. He stepped forward, spread his arms to better reveal himself, and grinned.

"Just as good as yours, right?" He joked.

It wasn't as good as Freed's. Laxus' costume consisted of a fairly cheap red suit, a white shirt with ruffles of all things, and a pair of red devil horns. It was put together in a rush, had no detail given to it, and was perhaps to most delightful thing Freed had ever seen. One year ago, when Freed had been celebrating the holiday without Laxus, he wondered if the blonde might have scoffed at the Raijinshuu's new found fondness for Halloween. Now, Laxus had a smile that was almost goofy on his face, wearing a costume that he'd made for himself. Freed couldn't ask for more.

"It's certainly a costume," Freed smirked, and Laxus laughed.

"You know, I'm dressed as the devil," Laxus all but sauntered forward, a good look on the man. "And if you're a demon, that kind of makes me your king, right? And, as your king, surely you should show me some respect and kneel for me."

Rather than allow that comment to affect him – boxers really would have been a good idea – he immediately spoke again. "Say that to Mirajane and I'll pay your tab for a month."

"Nah, I like my organs on the inside," Laxus grinned, walking towards the front door.

"You know that the moment Bickslow and Ever seen that you're willing to wear a costume of any kind, they're going to drag you into our tradition whether you like it or not," Freed taunted as he closed the door and locked it behind him. "I'm afraid to say, Laxus, that this," He gestures to himself. "Is your future."

Laxus paused for a moment, then smiled a private smile.

"I can think of a lot of things worse than that, Freed."

---

New Year's Eve

Laxus Dreyar and Lucy Heartfilia were having a drinking contest.

It was perhaps the only thing that Freed had seen that might convince him that miracles were real. But there they were, two pints of beer in front of them both, drinking as if their lives depended on it. Even more ridiculous, Laxus had been the one instigate it. He'd brought the tray of drinks over, looked Lucy dead in the eye and claimed that, if she drank hers before he did his, then he'd pay for every drink she got for all of January.

Freed watched from above, smiling a little as he leant on the banister. As normal, he had spent the party with a glass of red, watching as his guildmates got drunker and drunker, making asses out of themselves for his amusement. It had been perfect, and he was delighted that Laxus seemed to be getting involved.

"Shit," Laxus cussed loudly when he placed his glass down. "Where the hell did you learn to drink like that?"

Lucy said something in return, but it was too quiet for Freed to hear. She had clearly won their wager, and Laxus seemed to be in good spirits despite the financial loss. They spoke for a little while longer before breaking apart, Lucy walking towards her team, Laxus looking around before spotting where Freed had decided to stay.

He took the stairs to the second floor two by two, grinning at Freed widely when he was face to face with him. He wasn't drunk – Freed had seen Laxus drunk before many times – but he was in high spirits. It was nice to see.

"Hey," Laxus greeted. "You still sticking up here, huh?"

"Best place to be," Freed shrugged, leaning on the banister when Laxus was beside him. "You can see everyone stumbling and falling, and there's no chance of one of them vomiting on you."

"You really know how to party, huh?" Laxus teased, and Freed chuckled.

For a moment, they watched over the guild. Their arms lightly grazed one another, and Freed found himself smiling a little. These moments hadn't happened before. Laxus hadn't ever allowed himself to slow down, to enjoy himself. Ever since Laxus had come back, he'd been more… contemplative. He allowed himself moments of calm and time to think, and Freed enjoyed sharing those times with him. Over the last year, he'd spent many hours in silent company with Laxus by his side, and those moments had become very dear to Freed.

"Was talking to Mira," Laxus spoke up again. "Said you made a promise to her, that you'd tell me something before the year ended."

"Did she?" Freed mumbled slightly. He would be having words with the interfering woman.

"She did," Laxus agreed, looking towards Freed with a soft expression. Freed kept his gaze on the guildhall below. "But, between the two of us, I don't think you should."

Freed froze. "You don't."

"Nah, I don't," Laxus agreed. "Because everything you wanna say to me I already know. Have for a while, but I've been too shit scared to deal with it. Not anymore, though."

"Is that so?" Freed asked, not conveying tone. Where was Laxus going with this?

"Yeah. Pushing away my feelings nearly fucking killed me, and it ain't gonna happen again. And the thing is, everything you were gonna say to me, I know I wanna say to you. But I don't think I've gotten to that point yet, so instead I'm gonna ask something of ya."

"Ask what of me?"

"I'm gonna ask you make a promise to me," Laxus stated. "I'm gonna ask that you promise that," he looked to the countdown clock above the door, "in forty nine seconds, you kiss me. I'm gonna ask that you promise to go to dinner with me tomorrow night as my date. I'm gonna ask you promise me you'll let me show you how much I fucking care about you, and how much I know I'm gonna love you the second I can," His voice wavered slightly. "Because I really-"

Freed cut him off, leaning up and cupping Laxus' cheek with his right hand. He leant forward, pressed their lips together and kissed Laxus for the very first time. Bells rang and fireworks exploded around them, but neither man cared. Freed melted into the kiss, and Laxus wrapped an arm around his waist to pull him closer.

"I promise," Freed whispered, before starting another incredible, explosive kiss.

[neurodihuegent]

[Weird Sisters AU] "in tenebris magicae: a story's beginning"

Words: 2,495

Chapters: 1/17

Characters: Lena Sabrewing, Webby Vanderquack, May Duck, June Duck, Violet Sabrewing, Black Heron

Summary: Following the tragic loss of her mother, Lena finds herself returning to the Magical Realm to piece together the truth behind the fall of her mother. However, the deeper Lena digs, the worse things become.

(Text Under 'Read More').

Do it for her.

Because she certainly didn't want to do it for herself: If it were up to her, she wouldn't even be here. But the stakes were high, and her next move relied on her being here.

If anything sucked the most, it was that she didn't have her own room anymore: Her roommate, a human named Violet Sabrewing, had woken her up at 5 A.M with the blaring sound of her alarm.

"I like to start early when I study throughout the day," she said.

Lena had managed to get some sleep after being rudely awakened, but not much: It was 7 A.M., and now she had to be awake.

Dragging her legs out of the bed, Lena sat up and stared out of the window for a good five seconds: Everything about this place felt like Earth, but it also didn't. The Sun still rised and shined the way it did on Earth. It was a bit comforting to Lena.

"Late start?" Lena took this as some kind of a joke, but considering what had happened merely two hours prior, she didn't find it any funny. She flashed a glare at Violet before trudging out of the room into the bathroom in the hallway.

Five months ago, Lena felt like she had everything, that the life she had on Earth made her not even want to come here and find out about her roots. Now, she had virtually nothing, and that predicament forced her to be here.

Lena's eyes became fixated on her feet as she neared the bathroom day, replaying the past five months of her life over and over again in her head. The day it happened, the feelings of panic and hopelessness that swallowed her body, how lifeless she looked. It was hard to forget, it was an image that would be burned into her brain for the rest of her life.

Caught up in her mind, Lena didn't notice that there was someone leaving the bathroom as she was walking to enter it. Her body collided with another girl's, sending them both to the ground.

"Hey, watch where you're-" The girl cut herself off once she got a better view of Lena on the ground, "Wait, you're one of the new girls right? Don't tell me you're that human."

Word seemed to spread fast around here.

"You're thinking of Violet," Lena half-smiled, extending a helping hand to the girl once she pulled herself off of the ground, "I'm Lena. Nice to-"

The girl swatted Lena's hand away, glaring at her as she found her composure and stood up on her own. "Either way, watch it." Before Lena could respond to that remark, May stormed off.

Rolling her eyes, Lena pushed the bathroom door open and began her morning routine for the day. Great, Lena thought to herself, I've been here for less than 5 minutes and I already have a target on my head.

--

Lena could feel the eyes burning the back of her head as she took her seat for her first class. From the looks of it, Violet didn't seem to mind to curious and judgmental stares, but Lena hated it. Part of Lena wanted to tell them to find something else to stare at, but another part of Lena just wanted to sit in silence to not make her already rough start, any rougher.

The teacher hadn't entered the class yet, but Lena was sure that they'd ask her and Violet to stand up and introduce themselves, so Lena spent the down time she had now mentally preparing for it. Lena wasn't really a nervous person, but these stares she was getting from classmates whose names she didn't know yet, were enough to melt her into a puddle of timdity.

"Hi, I'm Webby!" Lena hadn't even noticed that this girl had walked up to her, but the piercing shriek she let out was enough to make Lena jumped out of her skin. "Lena." Lena responded sheepishly, looking over Webby's shoulder to notice the girl from the bathroom was shooting daggers at either her, Webby, or the both of them.

They looked exactly alike, so Lena assumed they were sisters.

"You're from the Earth, right? Oh, I have so many questions! What is it like on Earth? What are the animals like? Ooh, what is the foo-"

"Webby, enough," The girl from the bathroom cut her off, and Lena was somewhat grateful for it even though she knew a condescending comment would be following this, "I doubt it's anything interesting compared to what we have here. You don't need to drown her with your questions."

"May, you're no fun." Webby pouted, crossing her arms. She turned back to Lena, saying "It was nice meeting you though!", before she scurried back to her seat next to May and... another girl that looked exactly like them. Triplets?

Her attention on them being triplets was shortened when she went back to thinking about how off putting this May girl had been acting towards her. It soured her mood a bit, thinking about how this girl, for whatever reason, had to make it known that she thought she was better than Lena.

"So you're the human." May seemed to turn her attention to Violet, who just silently nodded in response. Lena felt no connection to this Violet girl, not enough to just mindlessly defend her anyways, but she wasn't opposed to kicking May off of her high horse in defense of her.

"What brings you here?" The other sister, whose name Lena had yet to catch, asked seemingly with innocent intent, "Do you have any powers?"

"Um....no... at least not yet," Violet murmured, fiddling with her hair, "I was actually recruited through the school." Webby and this other sister gave Violet looks of approval, but Lena couldn't help but notice the scowl on May's face.

"Not yet? What do you mean not yet? Either you're born with it, or you're not." May snickered, gaining questioning looks from both of her sisters, not that she seemed to particularly care. Violet bowed her head in embarassment, and that's when Lena decided that she had finally had enough of this May girl's attitude.

"What's your issue? This pretentious little mean girl role you're trying to live up to right now, really isn't a good look, you know." Judging from May's reaction, Lena could tell that this girl never had anyone stand up to her before, and that was just pathetic.

"Well thank god I'm not trying to look good for the likes of you." May hissed, and before Lena could get another jab in, the entire classroom was silenced by the arrival of the teacher.

"Welcome to the first day of the new semester." The professor looked like a character straight out of the kinds of old movies Lena's mom used to watch, her hair having flipped ends, and her red dress resembling the style of a Go-Go dress. The professor's prothestic arm, which seemed to be made completely from metal, caught Lena's eye, but it wasn't something she paid too much attention to. Her eyes drifted over to the sister, the one that wasn't May and Webby, and noticed how her entire demeanor changed once this professor entered the room.

"It seems like we have two new students here, Violet Sabrewing, and Lena Duckwell. Nice to meet you two, I am Professor Heron." Lena could've sworn she saw a smirk when the professor had read her name, but she was too busy feeling shocked that she didn't make them stand up and introduce themselves.

Lena's mother always told her that if she were to come back here, if she were to start a new life here, she'd have to conceal her identity. "Duckwell" wasn't the most creative fake last name, but something told her she couldn't exactly waltz in here with the last name "DeSpell". She never knew why she needed to keep her identity a secret, but she wasn't exactly trying to figure out, either.

"Students, you know that I am expecting nothing but the best work from you this semester, especially knowing what's ahead. Now, open your books to page 14..."

--

Lena went to school on Earth, so she knew how dreadful and boring the school days could be, but this first day really drained her of any energy she had left. She had almost ran out of the classroom as soon as Professor Heron dismissed them, and she waited for nobody.

"Hey!" Lena felt a tap on her shoulder, turning around to reveal none other than the other sister whose name she hadn't caught yet.

"Hey."

"My name is June, nice to meet you!" She extended her hand for a handshake, and Lena took it. This June girl seemed much nicer compared to May.

"Nice to meet you," Now that she was here, maybe Lena could get some clarity of the things from class she was still confused about.

"What did the Professor mean when she said something important was ahead? Is it a test?"

"I guess you could say that," June explained, "But really, it's the total eclipse. You know what that is right?" Lena shot her a look that said 'I'm not dumb.' Was it that obvious that she hadn't been touching up on her magic?

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. I just didn't know if it's ritual on Earth like it is here!"

"So what do you do for it?"

"On Earth, the Total Eclipse only happens every 100 years, but here, it actually happens every 10 years. During the Total Eclipse, all magical forms at their highest level of power. So, the ritual is kind of made to celebrate that, but also to show off that power. But it's not any time soon, actually it's exactly three months away."

Three months? There was no way Lena could master the power that she did, in three months. She didn't even know what she was fully capable of, because on Earth, both her and her mom stressed her living a normal "human" life, and not using any magic. And the rare times that she did use magic, ended up in haywire. Surely, three months was not enough time for Lena to perfect her craft.

"Hmm, sounds like fun...."

"I wouldn't know, this is the first time I've actually been old enough to attend and participate in one!" June flashed a bright, friendly smile, and in a way, it sort of put Lena at ease. After all, she was the first person here that Lena was able to maintain a normal conversation with.

"Oh, and sorry about my sister earlier, she can be a bit.... overbearing," June said, her cheery tone of voice shifting into a more serious one, "But if it makes you feel any better, I'd take it as a compliment. It means she sees you as a threat." Lena sent her a halfhearted smile in response.

"Oh, thank you. That's... great." The last thing Lena wanted, was some onesided rivalry with a girl she barely knew and barely cared to compete with, especially given said person had the advantage.

Lena and June had reached the end of the corridor, preparing to part ways with each other.

"Well, it was nice talking to you! I'll try to... talk my sister down from whatever pedal stool she's on right now, but I can't guarantee it'll work!"

"As long as you try."

Lena did like this June girl: She seemed to be the middle man of her sisters, the overly hyper Webby and the overly confident May, and Lena thought it was nice. She was definitely the kind of person Lena would be friends with back home, if Lena allowed herself to have friends back home.

But based on the 15 second interaction she had with Webby, she didn't have any negative feelings towards her either: She just had a lot of energy that Lena hadn't dealt with before, and Lena wasn't all to sure she was willing to deal with that energy level now.

Lena had finally made it to the door of her and Violet's dorm room, unlocking the door. Violet was nowhere in near sight, probably utilizing the last couple of hours the library was still open for.

"Well, at least I have some alone time, for now." Lena sighed, flopping onto her bed.

She allowed herself to get lost in her thoughts, reflecting both on the events of today and what happened five months ago. Maybe this total eclipse was exactly what would give her the answers she needed. But for five months, she began seeking answers, trying to piece together what happened and who could've possibly done it. It was caused by Magic, and to her recollection, besides a family residing in Finland, her and her mother were the only magical beings on Earth. But nothing was adding up, and it was starting to look like she would have to figure everything out with the help of someone else.

Lena remembered staying temporarily with the family in Finland after everything had happened: They were familiar with her mother, but knew next to nothing about her. But they offered her shelter, food, and some support whenever Lena wasn't pushing them away, and that felt good enough until it started to feel like time was closing in on her. Until what happened to her mom, would happen to her. So she, with the help of the family, devised a plan to return to the Magical realm during the beginning of the new school year, to get more practice with her magic, and to find the culprit. She didn't know what she was expecting, but she felt a weight of disappointment that she had been here for all of three days, and not even the slightest new discovery appeared.

Suddenly, she heard the door unlock, and knew that Violet was back from her study trip.

"Back so soon?"

"No, I'm actually going back. I just forgot a book."

Lena hummed in response, turning her attention to her phone. There wasn't anything eventful going on social media wise, but it was better than the awkward and forced conversations she and Violet had so far.

"Also... Thank you. For sticking up for me today."

"Don't mention it." Lena sent a grin in Violet's direction, waving goodbye as she left the room again to return to her studies. Maybe Violet was the kind of person she needed on this case: She had no magical powers, at least to both of their knowledge, but she did seem to know an awful lot about the magical realm, especially compared to Lena herself.

It had only been 3 days since she was here, but she was already feeling the weight of the stakes: Lena had to do to whatever it took to avenge her late mother, even if it meant facing the culprit head on.

[dongiovannaswife]

300 followers!

In order to celebrate the 300 followers (well, technically 307), I wrote this, please take it as a big thank you. When I made this blog I never thought I’ll have this much love and recognition. uwu

Destiny; Vampire! Giorno Giovanna

Part 2.

It started with a pain on the chest, small but persistent; he didn't knew what hurted exactly, but he recalled the pain starting on his lungs and then, after a sharp breath, his heart. 

And suddenly he couldn't feel his hands or legs; it felt like a fever, with his hands and legs feeling like balloons. A couple days after the pain disappeared, his hands and legs feeling normal again. His heartbeat normal. His lungs working perfectly. 

Perhaps it was the changes his body started experimenting; after turning 17 he grow taller, 1.90 wasn't a simple thing and he developed a muscular complexion; maybe his body was still adapting to the change, maybe his hormones were crazy by some random swap on his endocrine system. Giorno didn't make a big deal about it and continued his routine. 

During a certain day on summer, when he had to go out to supervise the inauguration of a restaurant at Passione's charge, the sunburns he got weren't normal. They were small but hurted more than he thought. Mista suggested some sunblock and, surprisingly, it worked. The bad thing? It stopped working a month later. 

His skin started turning pale. He stopped eating because everything tasted bad; not even his favorites foods could help and the only thing his stomach seemed to accept was the black coffee from the mornings and meetings. Nothing less, nothing more.

After a night of having a really bad fever Giorno started considering an illness, a serious one. 

But then, when the doctors couldn't find anything wrong, he started thinking about the possibility of something more, an illness slowly taking over. A quiet one; the one that, until you sleep forever, stops; when life is drained out of you.

But his first preoccupation was her, his (Y/n). 

She knocked at his bedroom door, entering when he talked. Giorno was on his bed, a pair of trousers hanging slow on his hips, letting her see the v shape on his hips, the toned abs and the marvelous chest, big arms underneath his head and blond locks on a man bun; he seemed lost on the ceiling even if he already had talked to her through the door. 

(Y/n) sat beside him, placing her hand on his cheek; his skin was cold and she jumped at the temperature, Giorno reacted by looking at (Y/n) with preoccupation written all over his factions, "I don't know what's happening," he whispered, voice low and sounding like a pained growl. "But i'm sick and I don't know what's wrong." She nodded, silently encouraging him to keep talking. "And I don't know if it's an infection caused by a virus, a bacteria or even a tumor; but I don't want you to be affected. It can be anything and nothing but whatever it is, I don't want you to feel like this." And he looked at her with his once full of life eyes now clouded with pain.

"What's wrong, Gio? What do you feel?" 

He sat, groaning when his heart made that jump again and his breath felt like stopping. 

"Something in my chest hurts. I tried using my stand but I couldn't find anything..." He was getting impatient at this point; he was a man of action and, if he didn't get answers when he needed them, his patience could be affected and, finally, the calm and composed boss would explode. Just like now. "I even called Adam and he couldn't find anything."

"A doctor couldn't find the problem?" She asked, impressed. 

He nodded and (Y/n) pressed a hand on his forehead, he didn't had fever but seemed to be hallucinating, his eyes suddenly lost on something behind her. 

He coughed and she rubbed his back, his hand gripped her arm, "i-i need water." (Y/n) nodded and when she looked at his eyes, she almost could see a faint crimson color on them; so she ran out for a bottle of water. 

When she came back he was sweating; cold sweat and pupils blown; his breathing uneven and soft whimpers leaving his mouth, the water bottle was took form her hand with no care; the liquid descended down his throat rapidly and, after what seemed like a dehydration moment, he seemed like nothing happened.

But his eyes held a fear she knew well; it was the same fear after taking over Passione thirteen years ago, the fear and sadness after his friend's death's. 

And (Y/n) knew he was about to ask something for the way he licked his lips, a nervous trait she learned to read on him, "(Y/n), please don't come around. Not when I'm like this. I-i don't want you to go through this."

She felt tears forming at the corners of her eyes; «what if i left and then i never saw him again? What if it was only a matter of the session change? »

"Gior—"

"Please." He pleaded, sitting at the edge of the bed and, with her now between his legs, placed his hands on her hips, looking up at (Y/n)'s eyes, "I'll make Mista tell you everything but please, don't get too close."

She swallowed, getting a piece of hair behind his ear. "How long?"

He seemed out of his mind for a moment but she wasn't sure what was going on, "two months." He answered finally and she looked at him surprised. "I'll find the problem in two months."

She nodded again and after giving him a hug, tried kissing him but he turned his head, gesturing for the transmission of the illness. 

(Y/n)'s tears fell as she left the room.

Mista looked at Polnareff with doubt on his face; Giorno was drinking the third vodka bottle, claiming to be thirsty. 

"Giogio, don't you think water would be better?" Asked the consigliere, getting closer to the blond. 

Giorno took the bottle away from his mouth, wiping the remains off with the back of his hand, "that doesn't help." The cold tone he used seemed out of him, like the behavior he had towards some men when negotiating. "Hand me the red wine bottle, Mista."

Mista closed the door of the cupboard, looking mad for the first time. "No, I'll get you to Jotaro." 

Giorno flashed a furious glance at the gunslinger and Polnareff could note how his eyes started to have the same coldness from that man back at Egypt all those years ago. Recalling the way Giorno was getting out of his mind, losing the calm and composed demeanor of his, getting more and more inpatient; and then, out of knowhere, Polnareff saw the vivid image of Dio Brando on Giorno Giovanna. 

"Mista, we gotta go." He stated calm and Mista looked at him suspiciously, taking him on his hands and getting out of the room as soon as Sex Pistols user could. 

When they reached Mista's office, Polnareff called Fugo, who stood in front of them with a glint of worry on his eyes after being told about the situation. "Fugo, I need you to send a message to Jotaro." Fugo nodded and took a paper and a pen, writing the words to send them later, "Giorno is having strange behaviors. We need to make sure he's not like Dio, and if it's not like that, we need to find out what's going on. Got it, Fugo?"

Fugo wrote the lasts words on his messy handwriting and nodded, getting out of there as fast as he could. 

Mista looked at Polnareff with a bit of fear and worry, asking "you think he's becoming like his father?"

"It's possible. You know the story, right? Maybe he spent part of his life being a healthy human and now, after having reached all his human growing Dio's vampire genes are acting. I wouldn't be surprised if he turns out to be a half vampire, recalling his mother being a human. Or maybe, a full vampire."

Mista stared at the wall, trying to swallow the theory, "that's... That's crazy." 

Mista nodded, looking at the door, lost on his thoughts, "yeah."

Mista answered the phone and the first thing the voice at the other side said left him recognize the person, "how's Giorno?"

"But could be possible." Answered Polnareff, staring at the wall; praying at whatever or whoever who ruled the world for Giorno not to be like Dio or else, recalling how strong Gold Experience Requiem could be, the world was lost.

It was her. (Y/n). 

"He's okay." He answered, calm. Giorno didn’t sent Mista to her in any moment, claiming to refuse to lie to her; she’ll understand, said de 28 years old boss.

"… You don't know how to lie, Guido. How's him?"

The line went death after a sob could be heard.

Mista sighed and decided to tell the truth. "He's worse than the last time you saw him."

His eyes open suddenly at the new sound. His breath got caught on his throat, said part closing, a childish fear taking over. 

Boom boom, boom boom. Boom boom.

The scent, however, it's something between coconut and honey, maybe almonds; and it's intoxicating. 

Boom boom, boom boom, boom boom. 

In the dark of the room Giorno feels his body react, lips parting and tongue licking the upper lip. Turquoise eyes stop staring at the wall to go through the bottle wine just to end up on the door, were the sound is getting closer. As the sound comes closer a scent reach his nose, it makes him react again and stand from the cold floor, his nude back being caressed by the cold wind entering through the open window. Giorno almost stumbles with his black seda shirt in the floor, the clothing ending up there due to the extremely heat he was feeling to the point where he believed he was going to burn alive. 

Boom boom, boom boom. Boom boom, boom boom.  

And suddenly a face, a laugh, a smile, a voice, two hands; her waist, her hips, her hair and that black lipstick she uses for parties comes to his mind and a picture, made out of a memory, starts to form. 

Again, the image appears and suddenly he finds the link between the three things: the scent, the image and the heartbeat. 

It's her. His (Y/n), his precious (Y/n).

His heart skips a bit at the thought of her coming; «i think I asked her to not come. » the scent, somehow, makes him start to think on another things; his body went still and his mind kept thinking; «i have her kisses tattooed on my skin. I want her. I need her. » irrational thoughts clouding his senses; the thirst, manifesting through a hard lump on his throat and tongue stuck to his mouth, not moving but just feeling dry. It's exhausting and uncomfortable. His chest hurts and his lungs seem at the verge of collapsing—

She opens the door slowly, the structure making a crack sound. 

The poor light of the moon allows her to see the empty bottles on the floor, Giorno's shirt stained with some of the alcohol; a sudden rush of air, scandalous and cold, makes her froze in place. Something moves at the corner of her eye and she turns, "Giogio?"

Giorno stays still, hiding in the shadows of his office; his ears taking on her heartbeat getting fast; there's a taste of fear. A fear he can almost taste on his own tongue; Giorno pictures the taste as a mix between iron and leather.

He came out of the shadows, a hand placed over his chest; fingers buried on the muscle, trying to ease the pain by applying pressure. A strange smile displayed over his lips: the kind that makes you get goosebumps out of pure fear. 

“I’ve been fighting it for so long.” He stated, the moon revealing his pained expression: his usual short locks that used to be back now covering his eyes but at the same time, a faint shade of red piercing her soul. “Trying not to become the same monster my dad was.”

But she recognized Gold Experience passing besides her to close the door; the sound doesn’t sound like the door closing but a death statement. 

She tried to back off, to put a bit more of distance between them even if they were two meters apart; the fear taking over.

“You know how long I’ve been fighting against this, (Y/n)?” 

He’s not the Giorno she knows. He’s not her Gior— 

She’s confused now, not getting the point. “What are you… talking about?” 

“You’re smart enough to know what I’m talking about, you, just like me in the beginning, don’t want to accept it; you know too well what I’m talking about. Perhaps,” he started getting closer, strutting to her slowly, the kind of walk a predator does seconds before jumping on the prey. “you just need to accept it with me. Would you be a good girl and help me, (Y/n)?” 

He chuckles, dark humor on it as his pale hand throws back the short blond locks restraining his vision; a sardonic smirk and big red eyes staring at her; there’s no sense of humanity but a monster. 

“Giorno, go away.” She stated trying to seem strong, brave. 

But failed under the accusatory sight of the Don. 

But then he looks back at her and suddenly she’s on the floor with his hand pinning her wrists at top of her head, his hips preventing her legs to move. 

He chuckled and, suddenly stopping when the pain is too much his hand goes back to his chest, applying pressure. 

“Blood, blood.” He cooed, desperate to find peace. “Just a drop and I’ll be okay— blood.” His free hand pulls down the collar of her shirt, revealing the space where he can smell the blood running down the jugular, his mouth opens as he lowers his head.

The view of the star on his shoulder blade is almost the last thing she sees, aside from the feeling of his new fangs piercing her skin slowly and painful. 

But the last thing she really hears before drifting off to unconsciousness is Jotaro’s stand cry: “ORA!”

—and the last thing she actually saw was the blood dripping down the corners of his mouth; her blood, crimson and greek tragedy like. And the way his eyes came back to the usual and human color. 

[densley3]

I'm not normally one that even reads the invitations I get sent. It's part of being a public celebrity, I guess, and being a hero is no different.

I get invitations for birthdays, public functions of all sorts, but when it's for a *funeral*? I read that. I try to show up, even if I don't remember the person in question, though I'm usually busy with work.

This one was weird. First off, I recognized the name, but couldn't really place it.

"You are cordially invited to the final farewell of Johnathon Bach"

Johnathon Bach? I knew I'd heard the name, but a cursory Google search didn't show anything that made sense. Just some classical musician, and he was long dead. I know, to I was at his funeral too.

At any rate, I decided to show up for this one, of not to comfort the bereaved, then to satisfy my own curiosity. I did not expect what I'd find waiting for me.

****************

"Immortal," An elderly woman smiles as she addresses me by my hero name. I smile back, I do have manners, after all. "So nice of you to come, John would be so glad you came."

"Thank you, madam. I wouldn't miss his final departure for the world." I'm not entirely lying. I really did want to come. The suspense of figuring out where I knew this gentleman has been absolutely killing me, if such a thing were possible. When you live for a few centuries, curiosity is all you have left.

"That's so kind of you to say," She smiles and taps the man behind her chair on the hand. He grimly nods to me and guides her away, leaving me free to approach the podium where the open casket lay.

I approach the body with a sense of excitement, though I do well to hide my levity, others in the room are not doing so well. Three young boys point at me from across the room, chattering excitedly that I, "The Immortal" am here. Their excitement tells me this individual isn't a well known professional hero. Other heroes don't really like me, and their families tend to think I'm "creepy". Apparently being unable to die makes you less heroic, since there's less risk, and heroes are all about their image. Maybe a cop? I'd taken bullets for a lot of them, maybe one of the good ones that care more about that than the fact that i busted a lot of crooked cops?

Finally, I arrive and am able to inspect this "Johnathon Bach" more closely. My eyes go wide.

"Son of a whore.." I mutter.

A woman bursts out laughing from close by, and I startle. I start to apologize, but it's no use. She has short, silver hair and blue eyes. She's wearing appropriate clothing for a funeral, and she looks like she's been crying, but her laughter is genuine as she regards me.

"So I guess that means you didn't know?"

"I- yes. Yes we met on a few occasions. He was quite an individual."

"He always called you his Archnemesis you know."

"He- I.." It's been years since I've been dumbfounded by a situation. Johnathon Bach was a d-rank "villain" if you can call him that. He would set up extravagant and overly complicated heists that ultimately never worked out. His only real talent was escaping capture, and even though he threatened to, he never hurt civilians. I had run him off a few times, traded quips and he had even shot me a few times. I'm the only one he did shoot, though, so I don't hold that against him.

"I can't believe you came!"

"I can't believe you all invited me," I respond, my voice equal parts shock and amusement.

"Oh we didn't, he did. He requested that we invite you, before he died."

"Oh. How did he-"

"The Vindicator took him.. on his last 'job'."

"Oh. I see." I sigh. He didn't deserve that. The Vindicator is more of a vigilante than a proper hero. He only cares about hunting villains, and doesn't let little things like "collateral" or "escalation of force" stop him from killing them.

"It's so nice of you to come though!" She smiles through the pain. I look around the room, and see several faces i recognize. Not heroes, just other minions and-

I nearly gasp as I realize: these people were his victims! That woman, with the red hair, I'm sure of it! She was at the bank he was robbing. The man with a buzz-cut, he was the bodyguard for-

Now I get it. Johnathon Bach, the villain Botch, set up all those heists to fail on purpose.

"You have to be kidding me.."

"Nope, John never actually wanted to hurt anyone. It was all just a game to him.."

********

Okay, so this story took me in an odd direction. Hope you like it!

A superhero receives a special invitation to a funeral. They don’t quite recognize the name. Upon arrival they realize it was a minor villain that they fought a few times. The family is ecstatic to see the hero and are happy their “Archnemesis” showed to see them off and recount old times.

[intheemyart]

A Marriage Proposal

Who would have thought that life brought so many emotions into one? That life brought so many unexpected events with new possibilities lies within? That sometimes, the most unexpected is something you've expected to be for a long time?

Through the ups and downs of life, there are reasons behind several things. One might say, the secrets will unravel itself and a new start will always be there. Choices will be unlocked, then it's up to us either to take it or leave it.

And for this matter, this matter regarding love, no one was able to handle it. It's inevitable for those who still care about their emotions. Thus, how will this love story end for George Alexander Holskey?

September 6, 2021 George A. Holskey's Penthouse, Sentosa Island.

Last night's event of his new company's opening celebration was a blast! Colleagues and friends attended the party, and again, George felt grateful for their presence and constant support.

Between the guest lists, the famous art conservator was there. Frederica was also invited by him as a close friend and as one of the shareholders in the company. For the man, her presence made the party more alive. He never wanted to celebrate it with this kind of party, but the only reason for him to celebrate it with Frederica was with this— a gathering with the core members and their closest friends involved in the project.

His penthouse here became a hotel for ten other people. Though it was only for a night and George was behind the idea, the real reason was actually to make Frederica stay to do his plan. His plan that he kept in silence for years. The plan was nearly failed when Frederica decided to go back home last night as she worried about the twins. He knew how the twins meant for her, but he really wanted to make sure this one, at least it was only between both of them.

Thankfully, the storm came, and she finally decided to have a sleepover in his huge penthouse. Just for a night, as it seems to be impossible for her to drive safely. Also, not wanting her driver to risk his safety too.

The first to wake up was the woman, Frederica. She walked out from a room on the second floor, side by side with George's. Planned by him so they wouldn't need to meet other guests who slept in the bedroom on the first floor. Frederica rubbed her eyes and closed the door as she walked towards the family area, looking for a drink as she felt thirsty and something interesting to read on his bookshelf. George told her that she's allowed to take any book she liked last night.

Although Frederica was just awake, she looked stunning on her bare face. Dressed simply in her oversized T-shirt and long leggings. Her eyes scanned through the cover of the books, deciding on which she should take out to read.

“Did you sleep well?”

A manly voice was heard— and as a result, she turned her head towards the man who greeted her with a question early in the morning.

“Good morning, George.” “Good morning, Fre.”

They both smiled at each other, realizing that they as what they had thought before. “I sleep well. The room is very comfortable, and I enjoy my rest. I hope you were having a great sleep too last night?”

She amicably smiled at him, showing her teeth between her lips that curved and made his heart beats faster than before. “I did. I feel fresh as I woke up,” he answered. “Do you find any interesting books on the shelf?”

Frederica shook her head swiftly. “Not yet, I just stood here, and it hasn’t been too long, so I’m still skimming through the titles and the authors, also the design that might catch my attention,” she answered. Even by hearing her soft voice, his heart couldn’t beat normally. Its pace has grown faster each time she smiled and looked at him. The magic of love that Frederica has been doing for years struck him, and perhaps today— it will be the climax to the uncertainty.

“Fre?” “Yes?”

She gave him all the attention he asked by just calling her name. Now here eyes were on him and no longer to the books on the shelf. “I want to give you something. Please wait here, okay?” The mother of two nodded. And by that, he rushed himself towards his room, steps away from where he was standing before. He quickly opened his nightstand drawer and took out a small box made of leather.

It’s that time already. At that moment he has been asking for God’s blessing and help so it would be okay. That wouldn’t be disappointing. He knew how hard Frederica has been towards those people out there like him. But he wanted her to know how he really feels after all these times. After those years of mistreatment and keeping herself in silence. For not being noticed by her seriously.

It was now or never and George could only wish that she would accept him instead of rejecting him just like what she did to him and even Alverstoke multiple times in the past. Indeed, it was painful, but every decision she made was to protect herself. He knew that Frederica has her own goals, life plans, feelings, and even traumas. But above all of that, George wanted to be that one person who could heal her grief and fears. He wanted to be that sole man who would protect her from anyone else, including Alverstoke.

George took a deep breath as he walked out of his room towards the woman he adores the most in his life after his mother. She was seen standing in her stance, looking pretty effortlessly.

“What is it?”

Frederica asked curiously, trying to take a peek at what he hid behind his body. He chuckled as he saw how cute the woman was right now. George then showed her the leather box and opened it slowly in front of his eyes.

A diamond ring was seen—sparkling as the light reflected on its surface. Frederica’s smile faded as she looked at him in surprise in the eyes. She was asking for his explanation through her gaze. George couldn’t even let go of his visions from her.

ㅤㅤ “Marry me, Fre?”

George asked her after collecting all of his wit. His eyes told her everything; his wishes for her and him asking her to accept this proposal. To accept his love that he has been holding back for too long. Tears could be seen in her eyes, welling up. Just with a blink, it fell on her rosy cheeks. She bit her lower lips because she’s hesitant of what to say, just like what she did to Alverstoke in the past four times.

ㅤㅤ “I want you to be my wife.”

Frederica shook her head. “George, I’m not even a widow yet. Not even a divorcee. I’m technically still married to Alverstoke, your own best friend. And… this is too fast, I can’t just get married to you right after my divorce is finalized.”

George stepped forward as she pulled her into a warm embrace. He kissed her crown and pat her back gently. “I don’t want you to marry me right after divorce. I want you to marry me, but when the time is right. I also want you to take your time as you heal yourself.”

The man older than her for two or three years hugged her tighter. He whispered in her left ear, “I want to be the man who helps you through those hard times. I want to heal your scars. I want to be your partner, your husband, your lifetime companion—”

George then smiled at her and cupped her small face with both of his hands. “Fre, I want to be the father to your twins. Sera and Hazen are one of the reasons why I want to marry you. I love them just like how I love you. As much as I love you. I want to be a part of your journey. Of their journey.” He confessed his truest feelings. Never once did he though he would say those words from his lips directly towards Frederica, the woman whom he loved for years already.

ㅤㅤ “Fre, will you be my wife in the ㅤㅤ future? Will you be my one ㅤㅤ companion?”

He asked her again.

ㅤㅤ “I’ve lose you in the past to Alverstoke, ㅤㅤ I don’t want to lose you again.”

She’s in doubt of so many things. "You can end this in the future if you feel like it’s not okay for you. That’s okay, I understand. But please, let me try to be that person for you. I want to protect you and the twins at all costs. I want to protect the three of you as a part of my family. Fre, I want you to be okay again. I want to see the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the cheerful tone of yours, the softness of your touch, the sweet words from your lips…” George gulped. He cried again and again in front of the woman.

Surely, it was only two of them on the second floor, or else, everyone might be awake already with this soap opera— airing right in front of their eyes, being watched by the other guests.

“Give me the chance to make you feel happier than ever than you’ve ever been with Alverstoke. Give me the chance, to love you properly. That day when I saw you at the Fukuoka City Museum, my heart throbbed uncontrollably. You made me fly to heaven. You don’t need to worry about my friendship with him. From that day when I took you away after he abused you during your pregnancy, back in Seoul, it has been broken anyway. From that day— no, it’s before. When he confessed to me he cheated on you back in the museum, when you fell unconscious, it fell apart already. All I care and all I want to protect is no one else but you, Frederica Esther Biancardi.”

George confessed, again and again, those things he couldn’t say directly to her for the past years. Indeed, it’s true that George has been keeping his feelings secret all this time and Frederica knew about it. She realized it long before he confessed his feelings from his gestures, even before she met Alverstoke.

Frederica looked down as she couldn’t even see him into his eyes directly. Holding her tears that actually have been falling more and more as minutes passed. “I’m not as good as you think. I slept with another man too after he abused me—”

A sin.

A sin she confessed for the first time to someone else. The infidelity she committed behind Alverstoke too. But instead of being disappointed nor shocked, George smiled. “Because you seek happiness. You seek love that you don’t receive. Because you wanted the warmth— you needed it. No—, you deserve it.”

George wiped her tears carefully as if he’s scared to break her apart for even touching her lightly. She looked fragile. “I’m not going to say or consider that as a part of cheating. No, not at all. It’s a part of you moving on from the past. It’s all in the past too. I want to walk the roads of the present and future together with you and the twins.”

George knelt down as he looked up at her. He took a deep breath and again, asked her the same question.

ㅤㅤ “Frederica Esther Biancardi, ㅤㅤ will you be my wife?”

Frederica, again, was still hesitant about what she should do. “I wanna take things slowly, George. I’ve told you that after the divorce, things will be much harder for me. To rebuild the trust and to—”

ㅤㅤ “That’s okay. I understand. ㅤㅤ I’ll be there too.”

She bit her lower lips and extended her hand to him. It wasn’t easy, especially for Fre. She felt something is still missing, deep down there.

ㅤㅤ “I’ll give a thought about it first, ㅤㅤ okay? I’m too scared to walk ㅤㅤ into the same hole again.”

George nodded. He nodded because he understood what happened to the woman that she decided to do this. It wasn’t easy, he knew it. At least, he had his chance to keep her safe and protect her. “How about… let’s take things slowly? I might return the ring one day…”

“That’s okay. As long as I got my chance and opportunity to keep you safe and to let you feel loved like you’re supposed to be.” George smiled at her. “You can return it whenever you want. In an hour, tomorrow, later— that’s okay.”

His hands shaking from the feeling of nervousness. Slowly sliding the ring to her finger as he kissed the back of her hand. He came to ask for his chance— and today, he finally received it. Though it may not last forever, at least she gave him a chance.

The man slowly rose up from his position and hugged her tightly. He landed some kisses on her crown and one on her forehead.

ㅤㅤ “I’m in love with you.”

He whispered softly, again confessing his love towards the woman. The woman who gave him a chance to love her.

End of A Marriage Proposal.