#nostalgia throwing me to the sea

[utopianoverlord]

When someone had died, or was dying or was so ill they gave up what little hope they could sacrifice, they cut parallel lines into the cliff, exposing the white chalk beneath. With the right eyes you could see them from the mainland or the fishing boats and know to send aid or impose a cordon of protection, and wait a generation until whatever pestilence stalked the cliff paths died along with its hosts. My lines are just for this: to keep any would-be rescuers at bay. The infection is not simply of the flesh.

[notlongtolove]

the garden is growing

"you live together, work together. doesn’t it all get a little boring?" there’s a weight to her observation, something invasive, like she’s pulling out weeds that you never asked her to tend, tilling through soil that’s been left unbothered for too long. the cups of tea, the folding of blankets. you could never call that boring.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: fluff! maybe angst if you really really squint

content: after catching up with an old friend, bau!reader and bf!spencer have a contemplative talk about their relationship as they walk home. domestic... mentions of marriage... lurve in the air...

word count: 2.2k

note: a post finals treat to myself! leaned heavy into the garden imagery for this one lol, this was heavily inspired by the poem linked, i highly recommend it! o i also added some song recs below for this one :P (ps i did not mean to compare spencer's eyes to PEBBLES but it was either that or a random brown flower... sorry.)

a line: The perennial pushes its way through the cracks in the concrete—small, steady, and undeniably alive. It’s there. It’s growing.

If you ask me 'What's new?', I have nothing to say Except that the garden is growing. - wendy cope

When you were younger, you had a garden. A field just a stone's throw from your front door. Not the kind in a backyard, fenced in and manageable. No, it was wild and uncontained, the grass alive beneath your feet. They used to say love was like a garden. You'd think about that sometimes—how you were supposed to tend to it, rake and comb and pull out the weeds before they strangled your beautiful flowers. And when it rained, you just had to let it. Let the downpour come and see what survived.

You’re standing under the awning, shaking droplets off your jacket. You mumble a thanks to the doorman as he holds the door open, offering a silent nod in return. The door opens to a polished, marble lobby, and suddenly you’re acutely aware of how out of place you look. You’d come straight from the office, having dwindled your stack of case files from a grand total of 26 to a modest 19. The grand mirror to your left does nothing to help. If anything, it’s magnifying the creased fabric of your trousers and the damp strands of hair stuck to your cheek. You shift uncomfortably, tugging at your sleeves and smoothing your hair out in a futile attempt at order. It was urgent she’d said. A matter of utmost importance. You’re not sure why you’re here, but you know with certainty that you’d rather not be.

She sees you before you see her. She calls out for you, the nickname wrapping around you like a sweater one size too small—warm but suffocating. It might as well be. You haven’t seen her in nearly a year—maybe a year and a half? You shrug, suddenly missing Spencer’s precision, his ability to pin things down to the day, the hour.

"Hi," you manage, sliding into the seat opposite her. “I’m really sorry. Work was crazy—" you start, but your words dissolve the moment she thrusts her hand forward. A diamond—no, a boulder—catches the light, dazzling and deliberate. You nearly choke on the glass of water you’ve just picked up. 

"Let me tell you about crazy," she says, her grin sharpening. 

Oh, the yacht! And don’t even get me started on the violins, can you believe it! The sea was just gorgeous—Did I mention it was on a yacht? Her words tumble out as you try to follow along, but you can’t quite keep up, only noting it definitely involved an abhorrent amount of Dom Perignon.

“I wish you could’ve been there to see it,” she says, her voice tinged with what you hope is nostalgia and not pity.

“I’m sorry I missed it,” you murmur, and you mean it—sort of. You used to be close, but since starting at the BAU, everything else kind of took a backseat. It had to. “I wish I could’ve too. Work’s been—”

"Crazy, right," she cuts in, waving it off. "Big fancy BAU," She winks. "That job’s gonna be the death of you one day y’know, all those hours." You force a laugh, but her words hit a little too literally, heavier than she knows. You don’t think she quite grasps the reality of your work.

“So,” she says, leaning in now, her chin propped delicately on her hand, her diamond ring catching the light. You can’t help but think it’s mocking you. “How’s things going with Spencer?”

"Oh, they’re going fine."

"Fine?" She raises her brows. "Trouble in paradise?"

“No, not at all,” you insist, your voice instinctively rising in defence. “We’re—fine. You know, same old, same old. We just wrapped a big case actually. This guy—” You cut yourself off, realizing mid-sentence that the story of a guy meticulously collecting hair from women post-mortem doesn’t feel like the kind of story to share during dinner under a sparkling chandelier—Not that you’re doing much eating anyway. The menu was a labyrinth of fancy salads, obscure cheeses, and entrées described in French that you’re only half sure translate to lamb. You’d settled for pushing a few greens around your plate, making a mental note to stop by the bodega later.  

Her laugh pulls you back to the table, "I don’t know how you do it."

"Do what?"

"You know… Live together, work together, day in, day out. Doesn’t it all get a little..." She trails off, letting her expression finish the sentence. 

"A little… what?" 

"Boring?"

You blink. "Boring?" 

The word tastes bitter. You don’t like it. The way the dog always chases the cat? Boring. The way the cat always seeks shelter in the same tree? Boring. But the way they both come running home every time you call? That’s never boring. Spencer in the quiet mornings—hair tousled, voice soft and sleepy as he murmurs a 'good morning.' The cups of tea, the folding of blankets. You could never call that boring. 

She laughs lightly, the sound cutting through the restaurant’s hum. "Not in a bad way! I just mean... do you guys even go out? Like, for fun? You guys have been together for, what like, years now?” Three years and 4 months, you think to yourself. You’d never need Spencer’s eidetic memory to remember that. 

"Well, yeah, sure we do…" you say finally. "Um, we went to a museum recently." You don’t tell her it was to interview a suspect. Her smile tightens, like she’s not sure whether to believe you or feel sorry for you. You take a careful sip of water, resisting the urge to shift under her gaze. There’s a weight to her observation, something invasive, like she’s pulling out weeds that you never asked her to tend, tilling through soil that’s been left unbothered for too long. Outside, the rain keeps falling.

By the time you part with polite hugs and hollow smiles, the downpour has softened to a drizzle. Spencer is waiting by the curb, hair slightly damp. His eyes light up at the sight of you. Under the glow of the streetlight, they remind you of the pebbles you used to collect by the garden path. You’d carry them home, pocketful by pocketful, washing and scrubbing at them until they shone. Only your favourites made it to your shelf. Tiny, perfect trophies.

“Hi, honey.”

"Hiya." You lean into his chest, a tired smile tugging at your lips as you manage a strained, “I’m starving.” 

“Hi starving. Care for a burrito?” he asks, tilting a takeout bag toward you with a small smile.

Your eyes meet his, and there’s something in his smile—soft, understanding, familiar—that makes your chest ache. “How’d you know?” you ask, practically tearing into the bag.

“Searched the menu after you left,” he says simply, falling into step beside you as you start walking. “Figured you wouldn't have liked much in there," he shrugs, casual. You feel your cheeks warm. Two hours away from Spencer Reid is two hours too long. 

The walk home is quiet at first, the two of you picking your way around puddles reflecting neon signs. The burrito’s long gone, leaving your hand free for Spencer to hold, fingers interlocked.

“She’s engaged,” you say eventually.

Spencer furrows his brows. “Already?”

“It’s only been like, what, eight? nine months?”

Spencer frowns, pauses then says, “256 days”, the precision drawing a faint smile from you.

“Crazy isn’t it?”

“I guess. Some people are like that,” he says, “Did you know statistically, couples who get engaged within the first year of dating are 20% more likely to divorce within the first five years?”

“With that prenup incoming she’d better hope they’re the exception then…” you murmur, not really listening. 

There’s something in your chest, persistent and heavy. You can feel its roots stirring, working its way beneath the surface, threatening to loosen the earth that keeps you grounded. 

A few more steps in silence. Then, quietly, “Do you think we’re boring?”

“Boring?” Spencer tilts his head slightly. “Do you think we’re boring?”

You hesitate, suddenly self-conscious. “I don’t think we’re boring, but you know, we don’t do much.” 

“We’re in the FBI, honey. I’d argue we do a lot.” He smirks, the corner of his mouth twitching playfully. You try to laugh, but it comes out forced, brittle—like a flower trying to push out a bloom that's not quite ready yet.

Spencer notices, as he always does. “Is there something you want to do?” It stirs in you again, something tender and uncertain. You don’t know if it will be a flower that blooms or a weed that chokes out everything else. 

“No,” You say a little too quickly, “Nothing really, just... Other than work and home—”

“What’d she say?”

“Hm?”

“You love work, you live for it—I practically have to drag you out of the office most days,” he reasons, tone calm and steady. “And, if this is something that was bothering you… I’d have known. So it must’ve been something she said.” You stop walking, the words catching in your throat. It bothers you—how her vines have crept into your garden, straight through to the soil beneath. Flowers rarely thrive in foreign soil, you think. 

“Not really,” you lie, biting your lip—a tell Spencer surely catches. “We just talked about the engagement. Well, she talked.”

He doesn’t press, though you can tell he doesn’t believe you. His gaze lingers, but he chooses to give you space. “How was it? The engagement.”

“Something about a yacht,” you reply with a shrug.

“I thought she was afraid of water.”

“Not when it’s on a million-dollar vessel, apparently.”

Spencer chuckles. You continue to walk. Your feet do their best to trace the familiar trail, trying to find the garden path that takes you home. Left. Right. Left. Right. But your thoughts snag, tripping on an unseen vine, and you stumble.

“Do you ever think about it?” you ask.

“About what?”

“Like... if we ever get married and stuff.”

Now it’s Spencer’s turn to stop mid-step, rooted to the spot, his body going still. You freeze too, breath trapped in your chest, a flush spreading across your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you rush to say, the guilt sharp and immediate. “That was silly, I shouldn’t have brought it up.” 

You tug softly on his hand trying to pull him forward, but he doesn’t budge. His brows knit together as his gaze locks with yours. 

“When.” 

“When what?”

“You said if. I’m saying when. When we get married.”

“When we get married?” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking any louder might shatter the moment.

“Yeah,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “When. Not if. I don’t think really of it as a hypothetical possibility.”

Your chest tightens and you don’t know exactly what to say, but your fingers instinctively tighten around his. Spencer senses your silence and rushes to fill the space.

“Do you… not think that?” he asks, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice.

“I do! Of course, I do.” Your voice falters. “I just… I didn’t know you thought about it that way too.”

Spencer hums, soft smile on his face. “I know I tend to look at things in terms of statistics, probabilities—But us? There’s no ‘ifs’. Not with you, honey. Never with you.”

And just like that, the earth beneath you shifts, breaking apart to reveal a bud. Not a flower but a fruit-bearing tree. You try and fight the urge to throw yourself into his arms and kiss him, but he’s already leaning in, his lips warm and familiar against yours. As you pull back, eyes locked, you think back to the pebbles you used to collect. Your tiny, perfect trophies—Spencer’s eyes are far better, you think. 

“You smell like burrito,” he teases. You laugh, the sound light and easy. “You love burritos.”

He brushes a stray curl from your forehead. “I love you.”

Through the clearing, you see it. The vines have receded, the rain has come and gone. Your feet step off the garden path with certainty. It’s safe now. It’s here. 

“So,” you say with renewed excitement, your steps light as you glance at him, “Beach wedding?”

Spencer wrinkles his nose. “Do you have any idea how much fecal bacteria there is in beach sand?”

“Blegh.” 

“No, seriously. Beach sand has 10 to 100 times more fecal bacteria than seawater.”

“How about we don’t throw around the word ‘fecal’ when my burrito is still working its way through me,” you reply, grimacing. “What’s your genius idea then?”

He grins. “Barn wedding?”

“Spence, I love you, and I know you’ve always wanted to be a cowboy, but I’m not walking down the aisle with hay in my hair.”

He laughs, shaking his head as you walk side by side, hands swaying between you. Spencer spots a perennial growing out of concrete cracks by the lamppost 2 steps ahead of you. 

“What about a garden wedding? In spring?” 

“A garden wedding,” you say, a soft smile spreading across your face, “Yeah, I’d really like that, spring’s nice.”

"Okay,” he says, hand warm in yours, “in spring then."

There’s no towering oak tree, ancient and steadfast, to mark this moment, no circle of wildflowers dancing wildly around with their colours. But still the perennial pushes its way through the cracks in the concrete—small, steady, and undeniably alive. It’s there. It’s growing.

They used to say love was like a garden. When his drought comes, silent but devastating nonetheless, you quench it with your rain—soft, temperamental. And when your rain changes her tide, thrashing and wild, he shelters you beneath his leaves, vast and unyielding. Together you prune the dead parts, plant anew, and marvel at what thrives.

The next time someone asks you how things are going, there’s no pursed smile or hesitant pause, distant in thought. You just smile and say it's going. It's going alright. It's going great. It’s going fine. 

Because all that matters is that it's going. 

Your garden is growing. 

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you for reading! feel free to like or reblog or comment or reply!

ᯓ★ song recs if you feel like it: nothing by bruno major love letter from the sea to the shore by delaney bailey

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

He Knelt To The Ground….

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here !!

authors note - taylors finally arrived in the uk ☺️ and what better way to celebrate then writing something cutesy. enjoy 💫

word count - 1k

in which, you and harry have been together for three years now, and at this point your relationship basically has a third with the amount of times you play taylor around the house, so at the eras concert he surprises you with something you’ll never forget.

You’re sitting in a private box at Taylor Swift’s first UK show of her Eras Tour in Scotland, and you still can’t believe it. The stadium is a sea of twinkling lights, fans holding up their phones and glow sticks, creating a mesmerizing galaxy. The energy is electric, the kind that makes your skin tingle and your heart race. Next to you, your boyfriend, Harry Styles, is equally captivated. His hand finds yours, squeezing it gently as he flashes you a grin that makes your heart flutter.

Taylor has been on stage for an hour now, and every song feels like magic. You’ve danced, you’ve sung along, and you’ve shared so many glances of shared joy with Harry. It’s surreal, being here with him, in this moment.

You stand in front of Harry, his arms wrapped securely around your waist, holding you close as you both watch Taylor Swift’s mesmerizing performance. The warmth of his embrace makes you feel safe and cherished, his heartbeat a steady rhythm against your back.

It’s just the two of you in the private box, a gift from Taylor herself. Harry and Taylor have been good friends for years, and she wanted to make sure he had the best view for her first UK show of the Eras Tour in Scotland.

The private box is a sanctuary amidst the excitement of the stadium, offering an unparalleled view of the stage. The crowd’s energy pulses around you, yet here, wrapped in Harry’s arms, it feels like your own little world.

His breath tickles your ear as he leans in to speak, his voice low and intimate. “S’heavenly, isn’t it?”

You nod, your heart full to bursting. “It really is.”

He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender. “A dream come true. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here with you.”

As Taylor finishes a high-energy number, the stage lights dim, and a hush falls over the crowd. You can feel the anticipation building, a collective breath being held. Harry’s arms tighten around you in shared excitement.

“Here it comes,” he murmurs.

The first few notes of "Love Story" play, and the crowd erupts into cheers and applause. You feel a rush of nostalgia, remembering the first time you heard this song, and how much it’s meant to you over the years.

Taylor steps to the front of the stage, her smile radiant as she gazes out at the audience.

“This one’s for all of you who’ve been with me since the beginning,” she says, her voice carrying a warmth that makes the massive stadium feel intimate.

“We were both young when I first saw you,” Harry sings softly into your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine. “I close my eyes and the flashback starts, I'm standing there, on a balcony in summer air.”

You lean more into him, feeling his breath against your ear as he continues to sing, his voice a perfect complement to Taylor’s. “See the lights, see the party, the ball gowns. See you make your way through the crowd and say hello.”

He turns you gently in his arms, so you’re facing him now, his eyes locked onto yours. “Little did I know that you were Romeo, you were throwing pebbles. And my daddy said, 'Stay away from Juliet.'”

You can’t help but smile, your heart swelling with love and happiness. Harry’s voice is full of emotion, each word resonating deeply within you.

“And I was crying on the staircase, begging you, 'Please don't go,’” he continues, his eyes never leaving yours.

The song progressed and before you knew it. The song was almost coming to an end.

As Taylor's voice fills the air, she sings, “Romeo, save me, I've been feeling so alone. I keep waiting for you, but you never come. Is this in my head? I don't know what to think.”

You feel Harry's grip loosen slightly, and you turn around to see why. To your shock and delight, you find Harry kneeling on one knee, an open ring box in his hand. The sparkling diamond catches the light, reflecting the magic of the moment.

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with love and a hint of nervousness.

“Marry me, Juliet,” he says, echoing the lyrics. “You’ll never have to be alone. I love you, and that’s all I really know.”

Your heart skips a beat, and tears spring to your eyes as you realize what’s happening. The stadium around you seems to fall away, and all you can see is Harry, his expression earnest and filled with hope.

“Will you marry me?” he asks, his voice steady despite the emotion in his eyes.

His eyes shimmer with unshed tears as he continues. "I want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you make me. I want to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep beside you every night. I want to create a lifetime of memories, a million little moments that add up to a beautiful love story. So, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

The music swells around you, but for you, everything is silent except for the pounding of your heart. You nod, your voice catching as you whisper, “Yes, yes, of course, yes!”

Harry’s face breaks into a radiant smile as he slips the ring onto your finger. He stands, pulling you into a tight embrace, and you kiss him, tears of joy mingling with your laughter.

As you pull away, still wrapped in each other's arms, you feel like the world has shifted, the moment becoming a perfect memory you'll cherish forever.

“This is our love story,” Harry whispers in your ear, echoing your earlier words.

“And it’s just beginning,” you reply, your heart full to bursting.

[laenordeservedbetter]

Love Me in Spite

Words: 2k

Pairing: Alicent Hightower x Fem!Knight!Reader

Synopsis: Daemon brings you to King's Landing to assassinate your former lover.

Warnings: Reader is team black but loves Alicent, sexism, one-sided opinion on Daemon's character, foul & degrading language, reader has the catspaw dagger (the one used to cut Rhaenyra; it's not with Aegon), NO ALICOLE, Criston is not around in this one but it does follow the events of S2E01, attempted murder, thoughts of one's own death, Reader is slightly a hypocrite when it comes to her faith (her and Alicent are a match made in heaven). [Let me know if I missed any.]

not my gif. || masterlist || previous work

—

Alicent Hightower was going to die by your hands.

If the order had been given to you no more than a hundred and eighty moon turns ago, you would have repudiated it without vacillation. As a child, you favored death over the mere prospect of harming a hair on Alicent’s head. The thought of inflicting pain upon a good, kindhearted, and forbearing lady was not incorporated in the vows you swore to the late King Viserys, nor did it align with your moral compass, but alas, many years had passed since then. You are not the same girl as before, nor was Alicent.

She is overcome by spite, leaving no trace of the woman she once was. Her companionship with the Princess, now Queen Rhaenyra, has long since ended. A bitter rivalry stretched between them, dividing the realm along with it.

War was coming, and it would begin with the retribution for Lucerys Velaryon’s death.

“Having second thoughts, are you?” Daemon looked back on his shoulder to gaze upon you. He appeared like a poacher in his present clothing. Not a day went by where Daemon wasn’t scheming. Over the years you spent by his side, you learned that violence was his only language. The rogue prince possessed a secure remedy for every predicament he found himself in, which is referred to as murder. He was an erudite warrior, if not temperamental.

“No, my prince. I am only counting the seconds until I get off this beast.” Caraxes lets out a low whine at your joke. You laugh softly, petting his scales. “Forgive me, Caraxes. I was merely jesting.”

Daemon smiles at your bond with the dragon, but it fades swiftly. “I know how you feel about that whore of a queen, but I advise you to remember that she is the enemy. If you want to let the nostalgia of an immemorial companionship influence your actions, I might as well throw you off this beast now to save myself the trouble of bringing you to King’s Landing.”

His words brought you a feeling of displeasure. Although your relationship with Alicent has waned over the years, you wish not to refer to her in a demeaning light, whether by your mouth or another’s. “Love begets catastrophe.” You voice out instead, “I will not be so weak. Duty takes precedence over any kind of affection.”

Your rejoinder influenced Daemon to pry further. “How did that woman manage to capture your affections, anyway? Did she visit your chambers while you were mourning a loved one?”

“And how did you capture Queen Rhaenyra’s heart? By looking after her in her cradle?” You shouldn’t have replied to his provocation with one of your own, but you could not pass up the opportunity for gratifying outcomes.

Daemon seethes. “You forget yourself, knight. I could throw you off this dragon in an instant.”

“And have Queen Rhaenyra lose one of her best assets?” You raise a brow. “Didn’t think so.”

The prince grunts, not willing to concede.

The rest of the flight was done in silence. Daemon continued to feel aggrieved by your quip earlier and went out of his way to show it through his actions. Even Caraxes shied away from your touch whenever you tried to pet him, the act hurting more than you thought it would.

You arrive in the harbor during the hour of the wolf. Caraxes lands on the sandy shores of King’s Landing, the stench of the sea rapidly hitting your nostrils. You get off of the winged beast first, evaluating your surroundings.

It had been quite some time since you visited King’s Landing. A pang of melancholy washes over you as you watch your once lively city now filled with weapons against the rightful heir and her dragons. You think of the smallfolk, the ones Alicent loves so much, and you imagine their faces. In your mind, you see pyres being lit and bodies being thrown onto it. You imagine the city you love so much engulfed in flames by the dragons looming overhead.

The thought sends shivers down your spine.

War is not the outcome you desire, but it is an inevitability. You know it as well as you know Alicent’s breathing. When swords start clashing and dragons turn against one another, the city will fall apart. The greens may have spilt the first blood, but your hands would begin the war.

Daemon throws you a dark cloak, which you grasp with a soft grunt.

“What’s this for?” You question as you put on the clothing. The material felt pleasant on your skin, the cloak fitting you wonderfully, as if it was tailored exactly for you. Looking back and forth between the cloak and the rogue prince, you comprehend that that was his doing. A soft smile graced your features.

Daemon’s eyes flit from you to Caraxes once he realizes that you had been observing him. He pretends to fasten the straps on the dragon, answering, “For you to blend in.” while trying to remain impassive. Daemon grabs another cloak, trying it out on himself.

“Thank you, my prince.” You needn’t say anything more. Daemon wasn’t one for sentiments and truth be told, neither are you when it comes to him.

“There’s one more thing.”

Your interest piques at his statement. The rogue prince walks towards you, dagger in hand. Briefly, you consider the prospect of him ending your life with it. Though, why come all this way for one murder?

Perhaps it would be to threaten the greens, as if to say “No one is safe. Not even the dowager queen’s former paramour.” It would be an atrocious act, one that would send Alicent reeling. Cole would call you a traitor to the realm, advising Aegon to display your body on the streets to show what happens to traitors, despite the murder being orchestrated by someone else. Alicent would refuse, of course. She would not be able to look at your body. Otto would turn your death into an opportunity. Mayhaps he would call you an honorable warrior who was unrightfully executed, painting Rhaenyra a villain. You do not know which one of those scenarios is worse.

Daemon surprises you when he offers you the dagger. “You should use this to kill her.” That was not part of the list of all the outcomes you expected.

Taking the dagger in your hand, you analyze the carvings on the blade. You should have felt formidable upon touching the weapon. It belonged to Aegon the Conqueror, after all. However, at present, the only thing you understand is that the dagger would be utilized for assassinating Alicent. Strange how a small object could have the capability to end a human’s life.

You could not respond, hiding the dagger in your sleeve. The weight of the act you were about to commit began to settle on your shoulders. Hundreds of enemies you have slain, but were you truly prepared to have Alicent be part of that list?

“Do this for your queen.” Daemon’s order was whispered, but vehement.

“For the queen.” You repeat with a shake of your head. Although you were less than solicitous to harm Alicent, you were eager to prove yourself to Rhaenyra. She deserved to be on the iron throne. ‘Twas her birthright, proclaimed by the late King Viserys. You swore an oath to protect and serve the rightful ruler of the realm, and you vowed to uphold that until the end of your days.

This is for the greater good, you tell yourself. One step closer to Rhaenyra being put on the throne.

But why doesn’t it feel right?

—

You get into the castle with no challenge. For a fortress occupied by Targaryen royalty, the security was subpar. And where was the commander of the Kingsguard? Surely, he needed to safeguard the castle now more than ever. Criston’s ineptitude made you scoff. See, if you had been the commander of the night’s watch…

Never mind the thought. You would have despised working under Aegon. The “king”, he calls himself, acts like a boy. He takes and takes and takes, not caring to mull over the consequences. Aegon has a penchant for acting first, and excogitating second, much like Aemond. The two Targaryen princes are more similar than they would care to admit.

At last, you reach Alicent’s — previously Rhaenyra’s — chambers. There was no guard on duty to protect her. Criston, the almighty Lord Commander, was nowhere to be found. Your blood boiled. Where the fuck was he? You at least expected a fight when you came here. You clench your fists in vexation. No confrontation would ensue since the lord commander is off doing anything but his job.

In spite of your ire, you open the chamber doors delicately, refusing to make a sound. You silently close the entrance behind you before making your way to the cot.

You send a prayer of gratitude when you see Alicent sound asleep in her bed, thankful that the gods had granted you this mercy. You hadn’t seen Alicent with her guard down in sixteen years. The ardent flames casted a warm glow upon her face, making her appear pacific. She was clutching her furs as she slept, a habit of hers that remained constant. Stray strands of hair covered her left eye. You almost reach out to brush them away when you recall the real reason why you were here, retracting your hand as if you had been burned.

Daemon’s voice rang in your ears, urging you to take action.

Kill Alicent Hightower.

You retrieve the dagger from your sleeve, holding it against Alicent’s throat. The light from the fireplace shone on the weapon, highlighting the Valyrian text inscribed on it.

This was the right thing to do.

For Rhaenyra.

For the realm.

You push through with shaking hands, torn between your duty and your morality. Alicent had no one to shield her. You are a craven for attempting to assassinate a defenseless woman in her sleep. You try to tell yourself that this way would be better. Alicent would not have to suffer long. But as you gaze upon her features, you could only see the girl you once loved.

In lieu of reminding yourself of Daemon’s orders, reminiscences of days making promises to one another crossed your mind. From rehearsing future marriage vows to Rhaenyra’s proclamation as the heir to the throne — the three of you promising not to hurt one another, an oath predating your ascension to the Kingsguard.

“Fool.” You call yourself out on your asinine choice, moving the dagger away from Alicent’s neck. This was wrong. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t hurt Alicent. You had failed Rhaenyra. Pacing back and forth while running your hands through your hair, you struggle to determine your next course of action.

“That you are.” You face Alicent, your throat constricted by the sheer expression on her face. Alicent was not alarmed by the dagger you currently possess. She smiled at you the way she used to whenever you saved her from Rhaenyra in your games of pretend. “I was hoping to see you.”

The revelation caused you to drop your weapon entirely, moving it to your side, “Alicent.” Her name tumbled from your lips like a prayer.

Alicent stood so she was now face to face with you. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, “Did Rhaenyra send you?”

You look her in the eye and say, “No. Daemon did.”

Alicent nods, knowing that it was in Daemon’s nature to take matters into his own hands. The rogue prince served only himself.

The dowager queen takes a step closer while you remain standing against the wall. Your body shudders as she cups your cheek. And, as if on instinct, you lean into her touch, letting the tears fall. She doesn’t know how often you look for fragments of her in the people you encounter and feel your spirit recurrently shatter once you realize that you would never find it. You wish to lay your heart out in front of her as an offering, or to confess the contents of your prayers that have her as the keynote.

“I’m sorry.”, is all you say.

“What?” Alicent whispers.

You plunge the dagger into your abdomen just in time for Helaena to come barging into Alicent’s chambers, Jaehaera in her arms.

“They killed the boy.”

[caffeinateddino]

on our way to Marley

Gn! Hange x Gn! reader

Hange picked up half of the sandwich they were holding, tossing it into the air with a quick flick of their wrist. A nearby seagull swooped down, catching the morsel mid-flight and swallowing it whole. Hange grinned, a glimmer of childlike delight dancing in their eyes. "Did you see that??" They turned to you, completely oblivious to the longing in your gaze.

"Yeah, it was cool," you replied, forcing a smile. You handed them your untouched, fresher sandwich. "But this one is not for the seagulls," you added with a teasing lilt. Hange gave a playful pout in response.

"Alright, alright! I'll eat it." They reached for the sandwich, sheepishly fluttering their lashes in mock guilt. "Though I probably shouldn’t. The waves are making me dizzy. I feel like throwing up" they confessed, a hint of vulnerability in their voice.

You hummed thoughtfully, glancing toward the open sea. "Yeah, Onyankopon did warn us about 'motion sickness' earlier." Your eyes flicked back to Hange, who was leaning forward, elbows resting on the ship’s railing, their focus lost in the endless expanse of waves. God, they looked breathtaking in that grey suit, the sunlight bouncing off the fabric. "You look good," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. "grey suits you."

You rarely let compliments escape your bitter lips, but something about this moment made it impossible to hold back. How could you not acknowledge the beauty before you? You would risk everything for just one kiss. Their cheeks flushed, a rare sight, and for a moment, Hange’s usual boisterousness was replaced with a shy smile. "Eh? Are you flirting with me?" they asked, the uncharacteristic shyness tinging their voice.

You scoffed, reaching out and breaking off a piece of the sandwich they were still holding. Tossing it to another nearby seagull, you watched the bird glide away before responding. "You wish," you teased, though your voice betrayed a softness as the scent of saltwater lingered in the air, painting the moment in something more tender.

Hange’s eyes sparkled with that familiar, mischievous glint—one you hadn’t seen in a long time. Not like this, at least. Genuinely.

"Do I?" They turned back to the waves, but their question lingered, pulling at the edges of something deeper between you both.

You swallowed. The words tumbled out before you could stop them. "I wish you did," you admitted quietly, your voice nearly lost in the wind.

Hange froze for a moment, their head tilting slightly as if they hadn’t quite heard you. "Mhm?" they hummed, turning back to face you.

You smirked, leaning into the railing, the distant port of Marley coming into view. "I lied earlier," you said.

Hange raised an inquisitive brow, their interest piqued. "About what?"

You turned your gaze toward the horizon, feeling the tension melt away with the rhythm of the ocean. "I don’t think grey is your color."

They blinked, momentarily confused, before you continued, the words falling easily now.

"You look good in everything."

The grin that spread across Hange’s face was beautiful, lighting up their whole expression in a way that made your chest tighten. That carefree, unburdened version ofthem—the one that made your heart ache with nostalgia—was back. Even if just for a fleeting moment.

"Oh, now you’re definitely flirting," they accused, leaning in closer with a mock-serious tone, eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Aren’t you?"

You chuckled softly, the sound mingling with the crashing of the waves, your heart pounding in your chest as you turned to meet their gaze.

"I am."

Hange’s grin widened, their eyes glinting with a mischievous curiosity. The soft rhythm of the ocean waves hitting the ship filled the quiet space between you, the sea breeze ruffling their short hair. They leaned in slightly, the air around you charged with the weight of unspoken words.

"Are you really flirting with me?" they asked, though their voice was missing its usual playfulness, tinged with something deeper now. Their face was closer, warm breath ghosting over your skin.

Your pulse quickened, but you didn’t look away. The moment seemed to stretch endlessly, the unspoken tension wrapping around both of you. Marley’s port loomed in the distance, but it felt irrelevant—far removed compared to the electricity humming between you two.

"Yes," you breathed, the words slipping out before you could stop them. "I am."

Hange's hands clasped the railing, and their eyes softened. For once, there was no witty answer or playful reply. Instead, the moment hung heavy in the air.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in, closing the distance between you. You captured their lips slowly. The kiss was soft at first, exploratory, as though testing the waters. But then something shifted. Hange responded, pressing closer with a certainty that made your heart race.

The world around you fell away. The wind, the tang of salt in the air, the distant cries of the seagulls—all of it faded into the background. There was only the feel of their lips on yours, the slow, steady rhythm of their breath mingling with your own. It felt like time had slowed, the pull between you undeniable and all-consuming.

When you finally pulled back, your heart was racing, and Hange's breath came in shallow bursts. Then, in typical fashion, Hange broke the silence with a grin that made your chest ache.

"Okay," they whispered, their voice barely above the sound of the waves. "Now you're definitely flirting!"

You smiled, your cheeks flushing warmly. "Yeah," you admitted. "Guess I am."

[rd0265667]

Nayeon x Reader: It's always you

Permanent Taglist: @cwpiqwon @justme-idle

A/N: Does this make complete sense? Not exactly A/N2: Also, thanks to my illusion bois for helping me proofread/helping me do this(my bad @alcoholfreenayeon, ms spout is not gonna do well in this fic)

"Hey Babe, Happy 2nd Anniversary. You're finally awake, what were you dreaming about? You were mumbling, and smiling a lot" Nayeon whispers after leaving a kiss on your forehead. She saw your eyes flutter open, stretching your arms groggily. “You. It’s always you.” You mumble with a sheepish smile, Nayeon playfully giggling before flicking you on the forehead.

“Flirt.” Nayeon said with a blush, yelping as you suddenly wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling her back onto the bed with you. After a short while of tussling, Nayeon finally got up. “Alright get up, We can’t spend the whole of our anniversary in bed.” Nayeon goes to her dresser, tying her hair up into a ponytail before reaching around her drawers. “Why not, I’d think we’d enjoy that very much.” You say, earning you a shirt to the face. “I will spray you with the hose.” Nayeon chides, but still unable to hide her smile in the mirror. “Besides, I’ve made plans for our 2nd anniversary seeing as we’re both on leave.” Nayeon said as she began her makeup routine. “Oh, do tell.” You say, wrapping your arms around her midriff, throwing her into a back hug as you rested your chin on her shoulder. “No spoilers, but I guarantee you’re in for a surprise.”  Nayeon said, leaning her head toward yours. “I swear, if we’re going to that one restaurant where I accidentally ordered the most spicy instead of the least and didn’t want to return it,  I’-” You began, but you were quickly stopped by a finger to the lip. “No need for swearing, my dear, and we’re having dinner there.” Nayeon said, sticking her tongue out as you rolled your eyes. “Well good luck then, you’ll be eating dinner with someone wearing a penguin mask.” You retorted, causing Nayeon to scrunch her nose in confusion. “What penguin mask? Oh, you mea- I swear to god you’ve been spending too much time with Mina.” Nayeon replied, a look of mock horror as you waved the penguin mask in front of Nayeon. “If I see that mask in our car later, I’m locking you out.” Nayeon retorts, causing you to make a theatrical gesture of placing the mask on, eliciting a face palm from Nayeon. “I don’t know why I married you sometimes.” Nayeon playfully jabbed. “Because you love me.” You say, before making a cacophony of weird penguin noises. “You’re right, because you’re my weirdo.”

The day went by in a breeze, almost a whirlwind of nostalgia and fun to be had. The date began with a trip to the beach, where you had first met Nayeon, who, despite her fear of the sea, was peer pressured into going for a swim with Jihyo and Sana, and promptly ran away from the sea, where she had fallen for you, both metaphorically and physically. Your back was bruised for a week, but on the bright side, you got a bruised back and her number, so you called it a win and moved on. The day continued with a bicycle ride through a nearby park followed by a picnic, the park where the two of you had your first date. Nayeon even went all out to recreate the exact date, the same picnic mat, the same burritos you had(that she made herself. She insists it's not as good, you know for a fact that it's amazing), everything short of time travelling and bringing you back to the exact day of your first date. After that picnic lunch, the final destination before dinner was a recreation centre, where the two of you engaged in sports like pool, darts, axe throwing, all of which she had lost to you. (She insists she was being chivalrous, you’re on the fence about that) “What a day.” You say with a tired but still jovial tone. “Day’s not over bub.” Nayeon says as she starts the car. As the car coasted down the highway, the two of you belting whatever songs were being played on the radio. Just as the two of you were singing out, you felt a strong jerk forward, the car spinning rapidly as you crashed into the road barrier. The events that soon came next were hazy, your ears ringing and feeling blood trickle down your forehead. You felt arms wrap around you, dragging you out of the car. “I’ve got you baby.” Was the little you could hear as you saw Nayeon above you, in much worse shape than you were, but she persevered as she dragged you out of the car wreckage, an unholy meld of your black sedan and the other’s blue van, collapsing just as she pulled you out to safety. The next hours were a whirlwind of chaos, as the ambulance arrived, whisking both you and Nayeon to the hospital. After some scans and treatments, the doctor diagnosed that your injuries were rather minimal, and that you would just need to stay for a short while for monitoring. “That’s good to hear Doc. How’s Nayeon? The lady I came in with.” You asked. “Oh, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but it’s not looking good. Her side of the car hit the barrier so she bore the brunt of the impact. She has pretty severe internal injuries, and the doctors are planning a surgery now. “Where is she?” You quickly asked, trying to get up from your bed, but your body still weak from the crash, you barely got one foot on the ground before you almost collapsed. “You can’t leave yet, your body is still weak.” “Doc, I need to see her, please.” You plead, as the doctor hesitated for a moment, before agreeing, bringing you a wheelchair. As you were wheeled to Nayeon’s ward, you began to hear rapid beeping from Nayeon’s ward. That couldn’t be good. A whole horde of doctors and nurses quickly swarmed into the room, though you were forced to stay out of the room. It was all going to be okay, you kept repeating to yourself, but as time passed, you felt hope slipping away, especially as you peered into the ward, seeing Nayeon’s lifeless body being shocked, an attempt to kickstart her heart.

“Time of Death, 2208.” You heard the doctor say, and you felt your world crash around you.

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t even think. As you sat in the wheelchair, your mind flashed back to the last time you had seen her. When she had pulled you out of the wreckage. The doctor said she had suffered much worse injuries than you did. But…she still saved you, she still pushed herself to the limit, exerted herself to make sure you weren’t in danger. Could that exertion have killed her? “Are you related to the patient?” The doctor asked as she walked out of Nayeon’s ward

“She is…was my wife.” Was all you could say before being overwhelmed by a tidal wave of emotions. “Oh, I’m really sorry for your loss. She fought hard, but during the crash, she suffered numerous internal injuries. She suffered an injury to the chest during the injury that caused damage to her heart. We were able to stabilise her for a short while, but eventually her heart gave up. I’m really sorry for your loss.” The doctor said, bowing slightly before walking away. “You can see her if you want?” The doctor who wheeled you here asked. “It was my fault.” You could only whisper. If it was Nayeon’s heart that gave out, then her saving you was most likely what killed her. Looking out of the window with tears in your eyes, you noticed a shooting star. Or was it falling. Like Nayeon, a fallen angel, a fallen star, the love of your life. Oh, what you would give up to save her. At that moment, the star froze in the sky. Everything froze, the beeping in the monitors stopped, the chatter of the nurses stopped. You looked around in confusion, what in the world was happening? Through the frozen bodies, a child walked through the crowd of bodies, a small packet of chips in hand. “Hey kid, do you know what’s going on?” You ask, realising that the only ones not frozen were you and the kid. “Watch who you’re calling kid, I’m like a thousand years old!” The kid snorted. “What?” You asked in confusion. This all felt like a fever dream. What was this kid talking about? “Duh, you wished upon a shooting star, all that nonsense, now here I am. You get one wish. Make it quick, these things have validation periods and they’re a bitch if you stall.” You look at the child in confusion, but the possibilities swarm your mind. Could you bring back Nayeon from the dead? “I can’t bring her back. Not in any way that you’d want anyways.” The child says, seemingly having read your mind. “Can I go back in time to save her then? Let me wake up this morning again, and let me sleep to go back again.” You ask the child, and the child looks at you with a little concern. “Are you sure you want to make this wish. Go back to this morning, and loop yourself. I’m not permitted to give you ideas for other wishes, but I hope you think through this clearly.” “I’m sure.” You say resolutely. Anything for Nayeon. “Alright, if you insist. What was the first thing you did or said today?” The child asked, a piece of paper appearing in his hand.

“I said to Nayeon, “You, it’s always you.”” You tell the child, looking at him in confusion. “Alright, listen to me carefully. Once the loop begins, you will be looped to this morning, but you won’t have control over anything until your first action. Thankfully, it was this morning so you have the whole day to do what you need. Before time can continue and you continue on your looped day, you need to say the first thing you said. Only then will the day continue. But until you do, you’ll be trapped in that moment.” The kid explains to which you nod

“Wait, how-” You were about to ask, but with a snap of a finger, you woke up in bed once again

And the Cycle begins

Day 2

"Hey Babe, Happy 2nd Anniversary. You're finally awake, what were you dreaming about? You were mumbling, and smiling a lot" Nayeon whispers after leaving a kiss on your forehead. You wanted to throw Nayeon into a hug, but you found yourself locked in place. After a short struggle, you remembered what the kid had said. “You. It’s always you.” You say to Nayeon,  who playfully giggles before flicking you on the forehead. Worried, you quickly pull her into a hug. “You’re okay. You’re okay.” You mutter under your breath. Hearing this, Nayeon’s playful demeanour disappeared in a second, quickly sitting on the bed next to you, holding both your hands in hers. “Are you okay? Did you have a nightmare?” Nayeon asked, before putting her hand to your cheek, gently caressing it in an attempt to calm you down. “Yeh, a nightmare. Something like that.” You muttered under your breath. “Well, whatever that nightmare was, you don’t need to worry, I’m here, I’ll always be here alright?” Nayeon whispered, her hand patting your back. She was right. You were going to make this alright. Taking a deep breath, you pull Nayeon toward you, leaving a long kiss on her forehead. “Thank you, my love.” You say, collecting your thoughts. You had to act normal. You did not know what little errant act of yours would alter the day in unforeseen ways, and you weren’t sure if that alteration would be better or worse. Besides, once you saved Nayeon, you didn’t want this day to be one where she had all her plans for your second anniversary ruined. You’d just save her before the car crash. “Everything okay now?” Nayeon asked worriedly. “Of course, let’s go get dressed, we have a long day ahead. I assume you have plans for the day?” You asked, causing Nayeon to smile in excitement, almost jumping for joy on the bed. “Definitely, We can’t spend the whole of our anniversary in bed.” Nayeon goes to her dresser, tying her hair up into a ponytail before reaching around her drawers. “Why not, I’d think we’d enjoy that very much.” You say, earning you a shirt to the face. Good, everything was going as it was. The day proceeded as expected, the beach, the park, the recreation centre, everything. Then, came the moment where everything had gone wrong. “Hey Babe, I’ll drive. Just key in the location.” You say as the two of you left the recreation centre. “So you can uncover my final surprise? Nuh uh.” Nayeon said, sticking her tongue out, causing you to giggle. “I know it’s THAT restaurant.” You say, causing Nayeon to pout. “Aish, did Jihyo tell you?” She asked, to which you shrugged. “Ugh, fine.” Nayeon said, tossing you the keys as you got in the car. As you drove down the highway, you and Nayeon sang the songs that came up on the Radio. But as you were driving, an all too familiar song popped up. The song you were waiting for. As soon as you heard that song, you began to nervously glance in the mirrors, trying to spot the van. Soon enough, it pulled up upon the horizon. The van was speeding, and fast. Keeping an eye on it, just as you saw the van reach you, you quickly swerved out of the way. “What was that?” Nayeon asked, hand grasping the handle at the ceiling of the car. “I did it.” You exhaled to yourself. “Babe look out!” You heard Nayeon shout, seeing a motorcycle on the wrong side of the road, speeding towards you. The crash was not as major as the previous one. But it was more than enough to cause damage. After the collision, the motorcyclist and his bike flipped, crashing into the car, the impact of which knocking you out, the last thing you heard being the distressed screams of Nayeon. Waking up in the hospital, you sat up with a splitting headache, an IV drip stuck into your hand. “What happened?” You lightly groaned as you asked the doctor next to you, before noticing Nayeon in the bed next to you, swarmed with doctors

“What's happening?” You try to ask, but your injuries stripped you of any energy to even speak out. “Hands off. Clear.” You heard, and realisation dawned upon you. No. This couldn’t be happening again. “Time of Death, 2208.” You heard the doctor say, and you felt your world crash around you, all over again “How could this happen?” You mutter to yourself. You couldn’t let this happen again.

Day 3 "Hey Babe, Happy 2nd Anniversary. You're finally awake, what were you dreaming about? You were mumbling, and smiling a lot" Nayeon whispers after leaving a kiss on your forehead. You knew what had to be done this time. “You, it’s always you.” You say, leaning onto Nayeon with a sigh. “Are you alright?” Nayeon asked worriedly. “I just need a hug for a moment.” You whisper, Nayeon nodding as she holds you closer.

Okay, you anticipated not succeeding right away, you just had to try again

.

.

.

“Hey Babe, I’ll drive. Just key in the location.” You say as the two of you left the recreation centre. “So you can uncover my final surprise? Nuh uh.” Nayeon said, sticking her tongue out, causing you to give her a small smile. “Jihyo told me.” You stuck your tongue out at her, causing her to roll her eyes. “Ugh, fine.” Nayeon said, tossing you the keys as you got in the car. As you drove, Nayeon began to sing the song on the radio, but instead of turning down the highway, you continued along a different route. “We’re talking about the same restaurant right? Shouldn’t we go by the highway? If we go this way, we’re only going one big round, no?” Nayeon asked, looking at you in confusion. “Just wanted to take the scenic route.” You reply, fingers tensing around the steering wheel. “Are you okay, baby? We can go to another restaurant if you’re uncomfortable. I just thought we could have a laugh there, but if you don’t like it…” Nayeon trailed off, seemingly associating your bad mood with her choice of dinner location. “No baby, its not that, I promise.” You reply, eyes still darting about “Pinky promise?” Nayeon said in that voice, the voice you knew, and she knew, you couldn’t resist. “Of course baby.” You say with a smile, left hand extending your pinky out, Nayeon smiling as her pinky hooked yours. Your heart threatened to jump out of your chest all through the drive there.Whenever a car so much as crossed your periphery, your mind immediately thought, how is this car going to mess with me. But through the ride, nothing happened. It was safe. Words could not describe your relief as you finally parked at the restaurant. “Baby, is everything alright? You’ve been acting weird ever since we began driving here.” Nayeon asked you while in line at the registration counter. “Just was a little paranoid. Heard about a few too many car accidents recently, so I was a little on edge.” You replied, Nayeon shooting you a weird look. There hadn’t been any news about that recently. As you were about to get to your turn at the registration counter, you saw a woman in a hoodie walking out of the restaurant, suddenly bumping into you. Without a word, she hastened her stride, and runs off. “What the hell was that?” Nayeon asked, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t know, something wrong with that one probably. Ignore her, lets enjoy dinner.” You say, Nayeon smiling, nodding as she gave you a kiss on the cheek before walking into the restaurant with you. Once you were at your seats, you began to read through the menu. While you were reading the menu, however, you extended your leg, accidentally kicking a bag. That was odd. Looking down, you noticed a small bag on the ground. “Hi, Sir?” You raised your hand, beckoning a waiter over to you. “Hi, are you ready to order?” The waiter asked, taking out a small notepad. “Not yet, there’s a bag here, I think a previous client left it here.” “I’ll look into it.” The server picked the bag up, slowly walking over to the main counter. Looking at the bag, Nayeon’s eyebrows furrowed. She had noticed some wires protruding from the bag, and she heard a faint ticking sound… Nayeon’s eyes widened in realisation, especially hearing the ticking sound grow faster. “Get down!” Nayeon shouted, lunging at you, using her hand to keep your body low, draping her body over yours. Before your could even be confused, you heard a loud boom, the force pushing you to the ground. As the dust settled, chairs and tables in a frenzied disarray, you felt yourself get pulled onto a stretcher, your mind still a mess. Through all the mess, you were set down next to an ambulance, paramedics swarming the area, tending to the wounded. Seeing as you didn’t suffer any serious injuries, you were left there, pretty low on the priority list. Looking around, you tried to find her, but all of a sudden, through all the noise, as if a mocking tune meant to twist the knife in your heart “Im Nayeon, Time of Death, 2208.”

Day 4

"Hey Babe, Happy 2nd Anniversary. You're finally awake, what were you dreaming about? You were mumbling, and smiling a lot" Nayeon whispers after leaving a kiss on your forehead. Your mind was still a mess. It seemed like the universe was conspiring to kill the love of your life. Well, not if you had anything to say about it. Because you’d try over, and over, and over again, until Nayeon was finally safe “You, it’s always you.” You whisper

.

.

.

.

.

.

Day ???

"Hey Babe, Happy 2nd Anniversary. You're finally awake, what were you dreaming about? You were mumbling, and smiling a lot" Nayeon whispers after leaving a kiss on your forehead. “You, it’s always you.” You say, a tone that all but said you were defeated. “I’ve gotta go.” You say, quickly getting up from the bed, going to get dressed. “Don’t you remember what today is?” Nayeon asked, parts shocked, parts angry. Looking at her, your eyelids drooped, and you looked absolutely defeated. “This is a throwaway day anyways. I’ll see you at the hospital.” You sigh, walking out of your apartment.

Walking to the bar, you went towards an unmarked room, pounding your fist against the door. “Open up dipshit, it’s me, Y/N. Don’t say you’re busy, don’t say come back later, I’m not in the mood.” You shout out. Opening the door, the aforementioned dipshit stuck his head out of the door. “Have I become that predictable? And of course, come on in.” He said, a hand gesturing into the room. “Also, do me a favour, tell your secretary that you’ll be receiving a call in roughly 37 minutes, just tell him to come back another time.” You say, crashing onto the couch. Looking at you in confusion, he finally nodded, texting his secretary, then sitting opposite to you. “Groundhog day, Nayeon, I’m going insane.” You say, the three pieces of information being enough for the other man. “That explains a lot. What’s the sitch?” He asked, pulling a whiteboard from the side of his office out. “I’ve tried everything. No matter what I do, Nayeon ends up dying in the hospital, Time of death, 2208.” You say with a sigh, hanging your head low.

“Oookay, you my friend, need a drink.” He said, sliding you a shot of gin. “No, I need to have my head on straight for this one. I need to brainstorm a way to save Nayeon.” You decline. “Alright, tell me the details, we’ll try to plan something.”  He said, patting you on the back. “I know what Nayeon means to you. We’ll figure this out alright?” He said, to which you nodded, though masking a considerable amount of doubt. The same amount you’ve had the last 20 times you were here. “Hang on.” You raise a hand, halting him in his step as you pulled out a piece of paper. Scribbling around 30 or so lines down, you handed the paper to him. “What’s this?” He asked, scanning through the paper “Your last 30 ideas.” You deadpanned, letting out a sigh. A look of realisation dawned upon him. “Oh, we have a mountain to climb then.”

“Alright, so what happens if you go home after the recreation centre then?” “We get robbed, the robber's a trigger happy little shit. Tried it out like 20 different ways, no matter what I arm myself with, even calling the cops, the robber can’t miss. In another life, she’d probably be a sniper.” You sighed. “If you drive around?” “Car crash, blue van, black SUV, a goddamn 5 tonner. You name it, it crashed into me. When I don’t crash, I’m not kidding when I say this, we get crushed by a landslide.” 

“Okay okay, scrap that, what’s the furthest you’ve gotten in your day without getting into an accident.” He asked, fingers massaging his forehead. “The loop is similar to the second one. I ran out of ideas, so I went back with that plan. I took the wheel, and we drove to the restaurant that we originally booked, but I took a roundabout way. We got there without an accident, but once we got there, surprise surprise, there was a bomb there. There was this one lady who bumped into me, dressed shady as hell, she’s the one who planted the bomb. I tried to take her down once, but that just resulted in the bomb blowing up earlier and killing Nayeon all the same. For this one, I called the cops prior, and they had cleared the place, successfully apprehended the criminal, then disposed of the bomb.  Then, surprise surprise, the damn restaurant caught on fire. That’s the furthest I ever made it. This is the closest to 2208 I can make it without Nayeon injured or in the hospital, but that fire was too big, I couldn’t get Nayeon out of it fast enough without the fumes getting to her or us getting trapped under debris. There were other similar situations like this at the restaurant, but there’s usually some minor differences. Once, the bomber’s friends came back to shoot the place up, the other time, some stupid ass kid ran into Nayeon and she fell, hitting her head.” “Okay, Okay, so we work off of that. Tomorrow, before you start your little date adventure, call me. Tell me code black, and tell me what to do. I’ll get some of the boys to prepare. We know this route can go wrong in a few ways. So, first, call the cops, secure the bomber. That much is obvious. Continue the date as is. We can’t really prevent the fire, given we don’t work there, but I’ll get Samuel there with a fire extinguisher. He’ll hand it off to you before you go in, along with some gas masks. Wouldn’t want the fumes to mess you up. For the shooters, I’ll have some of my boys guard outside, they see any rolling, they’ll call the cops. And for the dumbass kid. Well, just trip him if you see him.” He shrugged, causing you to nod. You knew there was no way to cover all your bases. The universe would try to throw anything it could at you, but this would work. “Alright, thanks bro.” You say, pulling him into a hug “No problem. I know I won’t remember this, but you should go visit mom soon, she’s been pretty bored recently.” He said, tightly embracing you. Once out of the hug, he put his hand on your shoulder. “This is gonna work, kid. Have faith alright? But, y’know, stay on your toes too.” He said with a small smile. “I really hope so, because I really don’t know how many more of these loops I can take before going insane.” You say, letting out a hoarse chuckle. “And, 3,2,1.” You say, looking at your watch. Right on cue, your phone began to ring. With a sigh, you picked up the phone. “Yes Natasha? Don’t worry how I know your name, yes, I’m Mrs Nayeon’s partner, I’ll be there in a short while.” You say, then hanging up the phone. “After this loop ends, Drinks on me.” He patted you on the back. “I look forward to it.”

Day ???+1

"Hey Babe, Happy 2nd Anniversary. You're finally awake, what were you dreaming about? You were mumbling, and smiling a lot" Nayeon whispers after leaving a kiss on your forehead. 

“You, it’s always you.” You say, leaning onto Nayeon with a sigh. “Are you alright?” Nayeon asked worriedly. “I just need a hug for a moment.” You whisper, Nayeon nodding as she holds you closer.

As you leaned on Nayeon’s shoulder, you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. Today was the day. You were going to save Nayeon today. “Hey babe, you can go get dressed first, I gotta call Darius” You said, Nayeon nodding. “Alright babe, say Hi to him for me.” Nayeon said with a hum, walking to her dresser. “Code Black, I’ll send you the details.” “Roger that.”

After typing out what you had discussed with Darius, you sent it to him, getting a thumbs up from him. “Hey babe, how do I look?” Nayeon asked, drawing your attention. She stood there, twirling around with that cute smile on her face. “Perfect, as always.”

.

.

.

“Nay, I gotta go take a call, can you wait for me by the car?” You ask, Nayeon nodding Once Nayeon was out of earshot, you took your phone out, dialling the police.

.

.

“Hey Babe, I’ll drive. Just key in the location.” You say as the two of you left the recreation centre. “So you can uncover my final surprise? Nuh uh.” Nayeon said, sticking her tongue out, causing you to give her a small smile. “Jihyo told me.” You stuck your tongue out at her, causing her to roll her eyes. “Ugh, fine.” Nayeon said, tossing you the keys as you got in the car.

As you drove, Nayeon began to sing the song on the radio, though pausing as she noticed you turning to the longer route. “We’re talking about the same restaurant right? Shouldn’t we go by the highway? If we go this way, we’re only going one big round, no?” Nayeon asked, looking at you in confusion. “Just taking the more Scenic route babe, don’t worry about it.” You say with a small smile.

As expected, much to your delight, the ride there was a smooth one, though your mental preparations for the upcoming dinner from hell caused you to tense up quite a little. Reaching the restaurant, Nayeon’s eyebrow furrowed. “Hmm, why are there so many police cars?” Nayeon looked around curiously. “Maybe there was some disputes here. They’re leaving now, so we should be fine.” You reassure Nayeon, who nods. Walking out to the counter, you see Samuel, a friend of Darius’, someone you had seen in passing but never really interacted with. “The package has been set under your table. Here are the masks, godspeed my friend.” Samuel says, handing you the small pouch. You quickly take it, grabbing them and shoving them into your pocket. “Thank you so much for this.” You thank Samuel, who returned a small smile. “Anytime.”

“Who was that just now? At the counter?” Nayeon asked as she browsed through the menu “Oh, just a friend of Darius’. We were just exchanging pleasantries.” You reply, Nayeon seemingly satisfied with this answer. Looking around the restaurant, you seeked to remove the first and most minute possibility of messing up. “Hey kid.” You beckon the boy over to you. “Here’s 10$, do me a favour, stay seated at your table alright?” You whisper, the boy nodding, taking the money before running back to his seat. “You’re acting weird today.” Nayeon said in a joking tone, but you knew there was some serious concern behind that. “Don’t worry about it babe, let’s order.” You reassure her. As the dinner went on surprisingly incident free, for now at least, you got a message from Darius. “All clear so far. Besides, I heard on the news that the cops had made a big arrest on some of the members associated with the bombers, so you’re only left with the fire. Good luck.” As if a goddamn hex had been placed, almost instantaneously, you heard shouts from the kitchen, followed by some sparks. “Babe, I need you to listen to me very carefully, I need you to do exactly as I say for the next 5 minutes alright? Put this mask on.” You say to her, quickly taking the masks from your pocket. Nayeon looked in fear at the flames that were rapidly spreading, looking to you and nodding. “Stay behind me, and when I say run for the exit, run.” You say, taking the bag off the fire extinguisher. “How did y-” “Question for another time, let’s go!” You say, standing up as you pulled the pin on the fire extinguisher, spraying the gas at the sources of fire around you. As you were putting out the flames around you, your main priority was to put out the flames leading to the door, aiming to make a safe passage for Nayeon and other people in the restaurant. “Go!” You shout out, Nayeon making a dash for the exit, you follow close as you continue extinguishing the fire around you. When you were just about to reach the exit, you heard a loud creak, seeing the banner above Nayeon about to fall. “No!” You scream out, lunging at her, draping your body over hers. The large banner crashed upon your back, knocking you unconscious, your last thought before you blacked out, a jumbled slurry of fear and pain.

“Can you hear me?” You heard a doctor ask as you were slowly regaining consciousness. “Yeh doc, I can hear you.” You groggily reply, before your mind immediately sharpened. “Where’s Nayeon? My wife.” You ask, before hearing a cough to your side. “Look around sometimes, baby.” Nayeon said weakly, though with a smile on her face. “No, No.” You mutter, the memories of your first loop rushing in to your mind. “Nay, are you alright? Are you feeling off in any way?” You quickly ask. “Other than a mild concussion and some scrapes, I’m fine, thanks to you. My hero.” Nayeon said, a smile on her face. You looked around in confusion, till you finally saw it. 2210. You had made it. “Yes!” You exclaim in excitement, before your wounds promptly put you back on the bed. “Calm down my friend. So, about your injury. We’ve done some scans, nothing serious, but we’d still like to keep you for observation for one day. And, it was very heroic what you did there, not just saving your wife, but you and the fire extinguisher. I heard from the other patrons who I attended to earlier, if not for you, most of them would have died in there, but thanks to you, the worst injury someone suffered was a mild burn. So, great job, and rest up.” The doctor smiled, gently patting you on the back before leaving the ward. “So, my hero, mind telling me how you had those masks ready for us? And that fire extinguisher too?” Nayeon asked, curious. “Story for another day my love, for now, let’s just rest, alright? And, happy 2nd.” You say, causing Nayeon to chuckle. “What an eventful 2nd anniversary it’s been.” She says, to which you smirk. “You have no idea. Good night babe.” You say, before shutting your eyes, a smile as you could already feel the beautiful horizon of the next day to come, it’s rays shining upon you

.

.

. As your eyes slowly opened, you shook your head a little, as if coming out of a headache"Hey Babe, Happy 2nd Anniversary." Nayeon whispers after leaving a kiss on your forehead, the rest unintelligible due to your still addled mind “Babe, what are you talking about, it’s not our anniversary anymore?” You tried to say, still not fully comprehending what she had said. But as you said it, you found that you couldn’t move. And you weren’t in the hospital, you were at home, time frozen as the exact scenario you’ve woken up to hundreds upon hundreds of times played out the exact same way as before. No, it can’t be. You won. You, against all odds, had finally found a way to save Nayeon. You did it. Right? As you were stuck there, frozen, a horrible realisation dawned upon you.

“You. It’s always you.”

[hotwaterandmilk]

So I decided to pick up physical copies of The Vampire and His Pleasant Companions from Yen Press on a whim the other day. I've been in such a nostalgia hole about Ragawa's works thanks to the Hanayume 50th celebrations and I remembered her manga adaptation of Konohara Narise's novels had restarted not that long ago. It made sense to get the books and begin a catchup re-read before the fifth volume comes out in English.

I'll be honest, I don't remember much about the Kyuketsuki to Yukai na Nakamatachi novels or manga from when I first encountered them. I had the first two manga volumes in Japanese at one point, but gave them away when the manga went on hiatus years ago. However, upon beginning my catchup re-read in English I was struck by how much the story resonated with me now.

If you've never read the series before now, long story short from Yen Press, "When a vampire from Nebraska named Al gets frozen in bat form, he winds up in Japan under the care of a dark and mysterious man covered in a bloody scent!"

I'd like to get into why I think this series is worth picking up now and for that it's probably easier to throw my ramblings under a cut.

I feel like the humorous elements of the series are what get talked about in the (admittedly scant) English language reviews for the series and, while the whole setup can be quite amusing, the more serious elements are what actually makes it stand out from other vampire tales with romantic elements. While everything is exaggerated, there are some very "real" aspects that help The Vampire and His Pleasant Companions stand out in an endless sea of vampire tales.

For example, Al being bitten by a vampire wasn't a ticket to easy street. There was nothing glamorous about what happened to him. That bite ruined his life and through no fault of is own, he rapidly became destitute. Vampirism in fiction is often shown leading characters to social isolation, but not necessarily to poverty. Given that Al has lost everything that connected him to his previous life, it makes sense that in our current capitalistic society he'd also lose access to even the most basic things our societal identities afford us -- including housing.

So yes, it's amusing that this bat-boy ended up flash frozen and shipped with some meat to Japan. However, the circumstances that led up to that outcome are given the weight they deserve. You truly do feel for Al in these moments because haven't we all been, at one time or another in our lives, perilously close to losing everything? These fleeting glimpses at the past sting in otherwise rollicking segments of the story as they should. Everything beautiful in Al's present is something that he didn't have during his lowest points and you truly feel for him as he works to prolong these moments.

Another serious moment that lifts the series even higher in my eyes is when it becomes aparent that Akira has access to human remains. Rather than handwaving away the access to blood as a convenient way to get Al the nutrition he needs, a significant amount of time is dedicated to the ethics surrounding the situation. The gravity with which all lives should be handled post-mortem and just a generally respectful examination of embalming as a process.

Unsurprisingly, I find the portrayal of Al's "incomplete" vampirism as a form of disability to be a compelling take on the mythos too. Al gets almost none of the "benefits" of being a vampire due to the whole process "not being done properly." What this leaves him with are a lot of things that make his everyday life different from not just humans, but "complete" vampires as well.

These differences mean he struggles to feed himself properly, feels significant levels of pain, and his body is often weak or doesn't behave the way he wants it to. The cause here is obviously fiction, but the way Al's acquired disability impacts his capacity to function to an acceptable level in a society of "normal" folks (both human and vampire) really struck me as ringing true, at least for myself and my own disabilities.

Yeah, I'm not going to turn into an adorable bat (and truly, bat Al is A D O R A B L E) but the struggle to make use of the few good hours in a day when my body works to a degree, that's so goddamn real. Al wants to contribute to the household, to pay back Akira and to be a functioning member of society... but it's not as straightforward for him as it is for others and that's something I appreciate being explored here.

Another thing that stands out to me is Akira's sexuality. While there are a lot of misunderstandings with Al and Akira that lead to people assuming they're lovers, when Akira is pushed into a corner about having a lover he shuts this down by describing himself as being frigid or having a low libido (in very blunt language).

I feel like the depth of this is conveyed well in the English translation by the subsequent line:

While at this point in the series Akira hasn't labeled his sexuality as being either demisexual or asexual, this is definitely something that it feels like the narrative is leaning towards. Particularly when Al clarifies the difference, in his limited language skills, between the physical and the romantic.

Akira is still figuring out what is comfortable for him in terms of dealing with people, so it makes sense that his progress regarding intimacy has only accelerated after meeting Al. The batty vampire is pushing him towards understanding more about himself and how he chooses to interact with those around him, but the ball is still very much in Akira's court regarding whether he'd like to explore either the physical or emotional aspects of their relationship further. I found that really refreshing?

That this story allows the dark-haired, brooding hero who is one part of our lead will-they-or-won't-they, to assert that he doesn't feel the same level of physical attraction that others do. That he isn't entirely confident in this either, that it's a part of himself he's never opened up about before, that it's something Al uncovers and isn't suddenly changed to fit what is acceptable. But that it doesn't lessen Al's interest in him, it's just part of who Akira is... gah! It really resonated with me idk. I love some smut, but I also appreciate it when a story focused on something as sexual as vampirism chooses to eschew this in favour of raw emotional edging instead.

I've pushed the more serious elements of the text in this ramble, but before I wrap up I should really note that there are some very funny moments too. For example, Al's bluntness here when he speaks Japanese.

The Vampire and His Pleasant Companions isn't the best work of vampire fiction I've ever read, but it uses its recurring themes of isolation vs. the need for connection to craft an enjoyable narrative. One that I feel lingers in my mind a bit more than others. While Al's unique form of vampirism leads to some absurd escapades, the story is elevated by having its emotional core remain grounded in the intrinsic beauty of everyday human interaction and how even fundamentally different people can connect in small but significant ways.

Blah blah blah, you should check it out, I can't wait for the next volume, etc.

[ssunkissedsunflowerss]

“Say yes to heaven, say yes to me”

Request by @anonymous

Hey! I know this is kind of a weirdish request, but could you write like a really long fluff piece for lesso? Long fluffy fics always bring me loads of comfort. Tysm! I love your writing & your style, it's so beautiful to read

i do hope 3940+ words for pure fluff fic is considered long enough. if i add more, it would take me some more time to write and i feel like i have you waiting long enough already so hopefully this many words can scratch an itch, dear anon. crossing my fingers that this will be delivered to your fingertips 🤞🏻

────────────────────

Wisps of fire dances under the sunlight. Their golden glow is peculiarly hypnotising, very reminiscent of the sparklers that you love to play as a child. Even as an adult, you allow yourself the occasional indulgence in such nostalgias for they offer you a sense of childish glee.

Have you ever felt the irresistible urge to throw yourself off the edge while standing atop some place high, a building, a balcony, a bridge? You do not dare look down not because you are afraid of heights or of falling but because you are afraid that one day, your impulses will win.

Today seems to be that fated day. Now, the bright oranges and reds are beckoning you to touch them. To their demands, you dance. Like a lamb to the slaughter, naive fingers dive into a sea of fire. It does not ravish. It caresses. Soft flames gingerly lick your flesh as your digits seek the heart of the burning red.

By the time you shower her scalp with gentle scratches, the bundle of warmth in your arms has melted into liquid butter, creamy skin very nearly becoming one with the creamy sheets. A sultry hum that you can both hear, and feel through lips moving against the dip in your throat is spine-tinglingly husky. A dollop of honey in a tumbler of rum that when consumed, douses you with pleasant heat.

Although you always go to bed nestled snugly in your cosy little haven, by morning, you always find a majestic fox taking sanctuary in your arms. Said fox, sly as she is, stamps tiny, delicate kisses to your neck, nuzzles your jaw with her soft little nose before emerging out of her hiding spot. You drown in her eyes, a mesmerising sage green, sprinkled with little specks of brown in the middle, that dissolve into rings of dark forest green.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” You greet her with a kiss on the lips.

She on the other hand is smiling against your cheek, tracing your cheekbone with peppermint kisses. “Who are you calling a sleepyhead, hm?”

“Who, I wonder.” You squint your eyes as if deep in thought.

It earns you a chuckle coupled with a poke on the nose. “Can you blame me, ma chérie. You make it hard for me to get up.”

“Oh, so I am to blame then?”

You watch her eyes twinkle with mirth. The subtle curve of her lips grow into a sly little grin. She dismisses your question altogether, chooses instead to lock you in her arms.

“Come. Let’s be sleepyheads.”

“No can do.” Even though you come within a hair’s breadth of being caged in those stubbornly unyielding arms, you manage to successfully roll out of bed before being completely caught. “We have much to do today, Leo.” A pout has settled atop her lips, and when she moves to sneakily snatch you on your waist, once again, you succeed in dodging the surprise attack. The cherry on top has been getting to stick your tongue out at your lover as you flee the room with a wink that screams downright sass. “Get out of bed if you want me back in your arms, naughty fox.”

────────────────────

“Naughty fox, was it?”

“I’ll show you how naughty I can be.”

You have no idea what you have hoped to gain by taunting the very personification of sly-as-a-fox. Consequences are a certainty. When the lowly husked threat has trickled like ice down your spine, you certainly have not been expecting to physically feel cubes after cubes of ice being shoved down your hoodie. To your horror, you find that the sly fox has not only tucked your shirt into your pants but also cinched the waistband tight to trap the unforgiving coldness there.

Willowy arms encircling your waist, you are hauled onto the kitchen counter. They keep you confined, offering you no reprieve from the icy torture. Trapped and helpless, freezing and suffering, all you can do is to bombard her back with tamed punches while you writhe and wiggle like a worm being exposed to salt.

“Leo!! It’s cold!! Cold!! Leo!”

“Well, it is ice darling. Ice is supposed to be cold. What do you expect?”

“Alright! I’m sorry! Stop! Please, I’ll do anything. Just stop, Leo!”

Intrigued by your bold statement, she seeks your eyes. “Oh?” An elegant eyebrow arches. “Anything?”

“Yes! God, yes! Anything. Now, put me down please.”

She complies, face the very picture of a cat that has gotten the cream. As soon as your fluffy-socked feet touch the floor, trembling fingers scramble to untie the knot of your sweatpants. When you try but fail, lithe fingers join you, dexterous in their movements as the knot is freed and subsequently you, of your suffering. Ice cubes clatter to the floor. Sneaky hands, meanwhile, have found purchase on your ribcage. The very tips of her thumbnails playfully grazing the tender flesh just beneath your breasts has your lips falling open in a gasp.

You swat her forearm reproachfully.

“Naughty is an understatement. You are an evil fox.”

Soft lips fall atop the little furrow between your eyebrows. After one, two, three, four kisses have tumbled down the slope of your nose, the fifth one is perched atop the very tip.

“Why thank you, sweetheart.”

It is crooned along with the sixth which is bestowed upon your lips.

────────────────────

As warm flavours explode on your tongue after you have bitten into the sugary, creamy goodness, a moan has been your first instantaneous reaction. Then come the stars, bursting in your eyes as you marvel at the chef with those big, wide twinkles.

“What is this witchery?”

Four fingers and a thumb bookcase your cheeks.

“That, darling, is the art of baking.”

Tilting your head a touch, the little pout of your lips is met by a pair of succulent lips. A tender caress at first that escalates into gentle suckles. The milkiness and tiny glittering grains resting on and around your lips are meticulously plucked by the tip of a tongue.

Once satisfied, she hums, “Hmm, delicious, is it not?”

You feign disbelief at her query, mouth falling open. “Delicious? It’s scrumptiously divine!”

“I made yours extra creamy, practically doused it with icing. Do you like it?”

Another hearty bite into the sweet swirls renders you speechless. The fluffiness of the bread is impeccable; cinnamon sugar joins the thick, heavy cream as it melts on your tongue. Although every one of her baked goods always has you giddy like a kid in a candy shop, cinnamon rolls, in particular, are like ice cream in a room full of lollipops. You savour the taste of heaven tucked into a bun, reaffirming once more that they are indeed your lover’s best work.

“Like is an understatement. You make the-”So busy licking your fingers are you that you do not mind when you are cut off, delighted even that she knows you like the back of her hand. “-most heavenly cinnamon rolls in the entire universe, yeah yeah I get that quite a lot.”

With a pop, your finger is released, and you turn towards her at breakneck speed, stare her straight in the eyes.

“I would marry you if I could.”

“Oh darling,…” Crooned the woman in an apron. “…flattered though I am, I’ll have to stop you right there. These hands,…” Your eyes are immediately drawn towards those tantalisingly long digits. When they wiggle, you gulp. “…as dexterous as they are,…” She leans in, whispers conspiratorially. “…bake, and then some for only one person.”

After a beat, she winks. “My girlfriend.”

“Oooooh, lucky them.”

Index and middle fingers walk along toned forearms, teasing the edge of her rolled up shirt sleeve. A hand halts them by capturing your wrist. They are instead brought over to lips so soft that, when a kiss is pressed onto your fingertips, it is like touching silk.

“Lucky them indeed.” She initiates eye contact, and you hold it, unwavering. “You should teach them how to bake.”

“Oh I did,…” Fingers intertwine. A hand finds home just shy of your hipbone. “…over and over and over and over again, I might add.”

“And?”

“It’s great luck that we still have a place to call home.”

“Wow! You may be an excellent cook but you are a terrible teacher.”

Her hand has abandoned your hip in favour of pinching your nose betwixt a middle and a fore finger. “It’s not my fault that you’re always so scatterbrained.”

Meanwhile, her cheeks are sandwiched between the palm of your hands. “It’s not my fault that the love of my life is always so annoyingly, distractingly drop dead gorgeous.” You squish her soft cheeks before punctuating your argument by capturing her adorable little puckered lips. Your kiss, to her annoyance, is delivered with an audible, exaggerated “mmmmwah”.

More often than not, when you are being overly affectionate with your woman, her expression may suggest repulsion but you know better than to let it perturb you. What can be read on her face is usually the exact opposite of what she is feeling. You have understood since the very beginning that she is an intricacy, and after a few years spent together, mastered the art of discerning her innermost emotions.

────────────────────

A beanie sitting snugly around your head, toes and fingers enveloped in thick socks and gloves, swaddled in at least three layers of clothes, bar the long coat, you are being carefully wrapped up like a Christmas present. Your beloved girlfriend has taken it upon herself to make certain that you are well dressed for your winter outing.

There has been a time when you have come home one chilly evening rudolph-nosed and shivering. Having unfortunately overestimated your tolerance for cold, accidentally underdressing for one day has left you with a terrible flu that has lasted for more than a week. Not only has she patiently and carefully nurtured you back to health, going forward, she will also go into protective mommy bird mode whenever you leave so much as a finger unprotected, especially during winter.

Currently, she is wrapping a muffler scarf around your neck on top of the turtlenecked sweater that she has already dressed you in.

“You act as if you did not just shove ice down my spine. Literally.”

“That’s exactly the point, sweetheart. Only I, your evil fox, get to torment you, my little lover.” Lips touch your nose, but a soft, fleeting caress. “Not even the weather is allowed to.”

Even though the cold is not necessarily your cup of tea, and it, too, is not Leo’s, she is not as affected by it as you are. Weak though you are against winter, you adore the weather. Leo on the other hand neither loves nor hates it. At the same time, while you love celebrating Christmas, she is not so much an enjoyer of festivities as a love-sick woman keeping her little lover company.

If you are the sun, then, Leo is the cloud hovering protectively in front of you.

Even now, while you look every bit the picture of a meticulously wrapped parcel, she looks as bare as the Christmas tree that the two of you have yet to finish decorating. She has on her body her signature white dress-shirt layered with a sweater over it with midnight jeans for pants, finishing it all off with a muffler scarf and a long coat. The both of which, aside from colours, entirely matches with yours. Compared to her other fashionable pieces, the sweater looks extremely out of place, the only thing that does not belong in her immaculate wardrobe.

You have just begun trying your hand at knitting, and the sweater has been your very first product. It is created with your lover in mind, but as a result of you deciding to get boldly creative on your first try, what is supposed to be a fiery red fox looks either like a rat or a dog that is terribly malnourished.

You have certainly thought that at worst, it would be fed to the trash can, and at best, it would be tucked into the darkest nook of her wardrobe never to be seen again. The more wishful part of you dares hope that she will wear it at home at the very least. You cannot both believe your eyes and stop staring at your woman when she appears in front of you, dressed in what you have knitted diligently, uniquely for her. She makes even the wackiest of colours arrestingly grand and you remember a small part of you thinking that it should be considered criminal. Meanwhile, the rest of you have been busy admiring her with unabashed wonderment.

If you have not seen your lover rocking questionable attires that will certainly look ridiculous on other people, you would have had half a mind to believe that she is the quintessence of beauty-is-in-the-eye-of-the-beholder. Not only do they look splendidly fine on your woman, it is not your personal opinion but rather a collective agreement that everything will suit her to a tee. After all, you have heard people marvelling at her elegance, seen heads turning towards her direction, which solidifies it as a fact instead of an opinion.

So filled to near bursting with love is your heart that you do not even notice, and if you do, you cannot care less that the two of your are inside a relatively crowded coffee shop when you have trapped her in your arms and attacked her with kisses.

Presently, you are stood outside the same coffee shop that is frequented by the two of you. The snowman out front has caught your attention. Hence, you have decided to wait by it while your wife goes back inside to order more hot drinks as per your friends’ messaged requests. It is amidst making a snowman of your own that you are approached by another. Since you are engrossed in giving the snow version of your girlfriend a face, you have thought whoever is sitting beside you to be the human version of your girlfriend.

“Who is that supposed to be?”

The unfamiliar voice, too gruff that it grates your ears instead of softly caressing them the way Leo’s does, startles you. The uncomfortably close proximity that you find upon turning makes you grimace. As you back away, you unfortunately trip on the thick lump of snow, but the imminent impact never comes. If it does, the ground that receives you has gentle arms that wind protectively around your waist.

There is no mistaking the hands that have explored every square inch of your body. All too happily, you melt into the solid wall of flesh behind you. While you look up at your lover, she gazes down at you, the furrows between her eyebrows ebbing away once a smile blossoms on your lips.

“Her.” You say this to the person still standing before you. “That is supposed to be her, my Leo.”

They either decide to ignore the obvious signs or are insufferably oblivious because instead of leaving the two of you alone, they do the exact opposite. They step closer.

“You’ve got a little something-”

Your guardian angel, of course, is not going to stand idly by and watch as someone else tries to touch you. So, she does the only thing she can; she plucks your chin delicately between a thumb and a forefinger, before angling your head a certain way so that she can lean down to capture your lips. Just like that, the false moustache is kissed clean. The kiss that is meant to ward off the unwanted advancer may have gotten a little out of hand but it does get the job done, because by the time your lips unstick, the bystander is no longer standing. You do not know, cannot care less, when exactly they have disappeared.

“Your nose is starting to resemble that of a rudolph, darling.”

Along with a second muffler that falls onto your shoulder, you are additionally pulled into her coat, being cocooned in her embrace. It is not the added fabric, you realise, but rather being nestled snugly against her body that makes the noticeable difference. Layers after layers of fabric cannot compare to the lovely heat that your lover radiates. Wings almost protrude from your heart and send the little creature soaring high into the sky when you feel warm lips on your forehead. They trace your hairline with satiny-soft kisses.

────────────────────

When you feel the beanie suddenly being lifted off your head, you are not expecting it to find itself back in place just as quickly. The difference however is palpable, for the chill seems to instantly seep into your skull. You cannot help the shriek that escapes your mouth when more handfuls of snow are being dumped into your sweater.

Instantly, your lover is hot on the heels of the culprits. While she tackles one to the ground, the other manages to escape. The unlucky one turns out to be Dovey, wrestled onto the thick blanket of snow and subsequently being turned into a snow burrito. Having successfully avoided becoming a snow burrito herself, Anemone cackles like a madwoman at the suffering of her partner in crime. Her victory is but transient. She is proved to be the unluckier of the two as soon as a sizeable ball of snow collides with her face. With most of the snow going straight into her open mouth, poor Anemone is left to cough and sputter. After getting rid of the snow inside both your beanie and sweater, you join the fray just in time to assist your lover while she is being double-teamed.

And thus, begins war. The four of you spend a good minute running and rolling in a white velveteen sea, screaming and giggling like a bunch of toddlers. The war ends with both ally and enemy teams creating snow angels. Afterwards, since Leo has not been able to wait in line until her turn arrives, for she has practically run to your side, the four of you find yourself once again in the coffee shop.

While you and Anemone have taken the duty of finding a spot to sit and chat, the two best friends have agreed to go and place the orders.

“How you get the grinch to enjoy Christmas is beyond my comprehension. Always was and always will be.” grumbles Anemone as she plops herself down on the couch opposite you.

“Is she truly that fussy? She has always complied with my wishes without any complaints.”

“Ugh, you have no idea!”

You do not get to expand further on the subject for Leo and Dovey return with your drinks almost immediately.

Having a sweet tooth, but at the same time, not wanting to go for something overly sweet, you have ordered a chocolate drink. From dark chocolate fudges, chocolate wafers, warm drizzles of milk chocolate to fluffy white cream dusted with dark chocolate, it has everything that will satisfy your cravings as well as balance the sweetness with a hint of bitterness.

Finding upon taking a sip that Leo, too, will find it palatable, you offer the drink to her. She obliges as she always does with you, but between eating with a spoon and sipping through the straw, she chooses neither. Instead, you are rendered pleasantly surprised by her mouth finding yours.

“Get a room.”

The groan from Anemone does nothing to make her budge. If her friend has wanted her to stop with her comment, it has an entirely opposite effect.

“Get a lover if you’re jealous.”

While poor Anemone almost chokes on her drink again, Dovey cannot help but laugh into her hand.

“Ouchie.”

What you love about their friendship is that regardless of the endless quips being thrown around like nobody’s business, they have gone past the point of being truly offended by them. The three of them go way back, and over the course of time, their friendship has evolved into a familial bond. Leo has not only waltzed into your life alone but she has also brought with her, and subsequently into your life, Dovey and Anemone, who have welcomed you with open arms. You feel infinitely lucky to be a part of this little family.

From catching up with each other’s lives to reminiscing about the days of yore, the four of you talk about anything and everything. Even though you can still go on for days and never run out of things to say, the shop needs to close. So it is with great reluctance that you part ways. By the time goodbyes have been said, stars are already hanging overhead.

────────────────────

Delightful twinkles and colourful Christmas lights light your way home as the pair of you walk hand in hand. Your interlaced fingers are hidden in the pocket of your lover’s coat.

“Do you remember the very first time our paths crossed?”

“How can I forget? I spilled coffee onto you.”

“That, my darling, was not how you first caught my eye.” Puzzled and intrigued, you search her face. When she meets your gaze, you marvel at their beauty. It is as if the fallen stars have found sanctuary in her eyes. “Have you ever wondered that perhaps you bumping into me was my carefully crafted machination?”

“Was it, now?”

A perfect eyebrow arches. “Do I seem the type to ask someone for compensation through coffee dates had I not been interested in them in the first place?”

“Oh, so they had been dates! I thought I was just, well, compensating you for ruining your pristine white shirt.”

“Silly girl.”

“You were still charmed by this silly girl, were you not?”

“Indeed I was, and I am, still.”

“In all seriousness, Leo, from the very beginning, the feelings were incredibly mutual.”

“I know, darling. I waited for a while to see if you would make the first move.”

“I’ve never told you this before but the coffee that was spilled onto you…it was bought with you in mind. Although our methods were not entirely flawless, we both got what we wanted in the end.”

“Each other.”

It is under a lamppost that she stops you.

“You said you’d do anything.” It seems like there is more to her words than that, so you poise for elaboration. Out of the blue, she falls to one knee, and you watch with bated breath as her hand disappears into the other coat pocket. The hand, once vacant, returns with a small velvet box.

“Say yes to me.”

“As it so happens…” Fishing out your own velveteen box, you mirror her stance. “I’ll say yes only if you do too.”

The shocked expression on her face dissolves into a smile before the both of you let out a laugh in unison.

“Were you carrying it around everywhere you went?”

“No. I requested Anemone to pick it up for me on her way. You?”

“Same but Dovey.”

“Well, what will you say, woman?”

“There is only one correct answer.”

“Which is?”

“Yes, obviously.”

“Then, without question, my answer is also yes.”

They are both simple platinum bands with a single gem in the middle. While the band with gem the hue of Leo’s hair comes to rest on your ring finger, the band with gem the shade of your eyes goes to find home on your wife’s ring finger.

“Oh my dearest Leo, I love you so.”

When you throw yourself into her arms, she receives you with great enthusiasm. Standing up with you locked tightly in her embrace, she spins the two of you around before your vows are sealed with a kiss.

“I love you more, my darling angel.”

────────────────────

[hey-august]

➜ A continuation of this story, based on this wonderful request!

Word count: ~1.3k

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x amab!reader 🍆, no use of Y/N, anal sex, briefly fantasizing about other people during sex, loosely implied shanks x buggy

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Another night, another performance complete. Buggy steps out of his bathroom to empty chambers. The stage was reset in his absence with neatened bedsheets. The only lingering signs of your presence are a fresh glass of water and pain relievers on the bedside table.

That’s how each show ends. You never stayed longer than needed, and Buggy never asked. He ignored your only offer back in the beginning and that wordless decision established the roles you each played during these trysts.

Buggy sits on the edge of his empty bed to accept the small comforts you leave behind. The medicine helps alleviate the soreness spreading through his body and blooming on his skin, but it doesn’t work for the ache that lives deeper inside. A longing that is only abated when you’re pouring yourself into him while his closed eyes chase fantasies.

It’s not long before another act is scheduled and your skills are needed. Your mouth is hot on his skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses and false promises that are full of nostalgia and memories of the sea. His fingers are threaded in your hair, following your journey and afraid to be left behind. Huffs and puffs of pleasure edge into hungry requests for the scene to progress.

“P-please. I need more.”

As your presence recedes, the ache of desire grows. A thread of tension is pulled taut as you line yourself up against Buggy’s body. His ocean-colored eyes flutter open in both anticipation and confirmation. Spit and precum aid your length sliding into the pirate and splitting him open for the first time tonight. 

Unprepared for the confining tightness, you hiss sharply. Buggy watches through half-lidded eyes as you throw your head back. This is different. This isn’t in the script. The improvisation changes everything and pulls him from the immersion. He can’t hear his fantasies in your voice. The fullness isn’t a memory or a desire he’s chasing. It’s you. Just you.

Frowning, Buggy squeezes his eyes shut to force you out and lock himself in. He visits each sensation - the right hand gripping his hip, his leg resting on a shoulder, hot breath wafting across his sweat-coated chest, the jolt from each rough thrust. You say the words from his imagination and from his past, but there’s a divide. A chasm that he’s sinking into.

“Hey, you still with me?”

A voice cuts through the darkness. It’s full of kindness and worry, tones that Buggy hasn’t heard in this bed before. Opening his eyes, Buggy is faced with an expression mirroring those feelings. 

Buggy nods and looks away, embarrassed that you can read him so easily.

“Should we take a quick break?” you offer while running a hand along the leg hoisted over your shoulder and massaging the muscles. His body relaxes under the soothing touch.

Licking his dry lips, Buggy nods again. “Yeah,” he responds hoarsely.

You pull out slowly and lower Buggy’s leg onto the bed before finding a spot in the rumpled sheets. A heat increases in Buggy’s chest, reacting to your thoughtful movements.

You’re always mindful of the person you share this space with and it ignites a hot flame that the pirate struggles with. It makes him uncomfortable. You make him uncomfortable. That’s why he prefers when you’re someone else. It’s easier for him to pretend he’s fucking a fantasy.

And yet, the burning desire continues to consume him. Even when you take him past the brink of exhaustion, there’s still a part of him that’s unsatisfied. A part of him that’s curious. Afraid, but interested.

Buggy rolls onto his side, facing away from his confusion.

“Do you want to try something different, captain?” Your hesitant voice drifts from the side of the bed. Again, full of a softness that manages to compress Buggy’s chest.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” 

A change could stitch the rift Buggy was falling into. Maybe the issue isn’t that he can't picture someone else, but that he’s chasing the wrong illusion.

A hand reaches over to brush a few strands of hair stuck to the side of Buggy’s sweaty forehead. The unexpected touch is met with a small flinch and a held breath.

“Well…who are you thinking about?”

The answer comes quickly and without thought, carried on the stuck breath that needed release.

“You.”

The bed shifts as you prop yourself up to look at the backside of the man beside you. The one who continues to avoid looking at you.

“Captain, ar-”

“Buggy.” 

Silence hangs heavy in the air. You never referred to him without the title, unless you were bringing a different relationship to life.

Repeating the two syllables of his name pulls a soft sound from the captain. An enticing noise.

Your body wraps around Buggy’s, holding him to his confession. Each twitch and throb of your cock is pressed against his lower back as it cries for how badly you want him. A need that is stroked by his sneaky hand.

“Oh f-fuck,” you whine against his shoulder while bucking into his touch.

The sincerity in your voice is bewitching. It tugs at Buggy - peeling back the veil, plucking at the strings in his chest, and winding up his thread of tension. Following the lure, Buggy shifts against your body and eases himself onto your erection.

His sigh is echoed by yours dancing across his damp skin. You move slowly and intentionally, drawing out more sounds with each agonizing drag. Suckling kisses move along Buggy’s shoulder and up his neck.

“H-harder…” 

A small head tilt grants you more access to his skin. Smooth and unmarked, until your teeth leave small indents and your lips bring bruises. Buggy grinds into you harder with each lingering reminder left on his body. Each one laying claim and burning with honest desire.

“Fuck, I want you so badly,” you pant. Grabbing his hip, you pull his body to meet yours and thrust your feelings deep into Buggy. “Say my name. Please, say m-my name.”

A high-pitched whine is spun into the most wonderful version of your name. Buggy repeats it, letting the taste coat his tongue and pour into him.

Anticipating the impending flood, you pump Buggy’s dick with jerky movements that smear precum all over his lower stomach and your hand.

“Cap- Buggy… Buggy, I want you to come for me. I need you to come for me.” 

Desperation drips from your voice, as it drips from the head of his cock, before exploding with white hot jets.

“I’m coming, fuck- you’re making m-me come,” Buggy grunts while bucking against the sensations on both sides. 

The mess is everywhere. Some clings to his abdomen, some seeps into the bed, and the remainder is coaxed to dribble on your hand. It’s not quite enough, though. Moving your hand up his body, sliding on sweat and cum, you hold him tighter and chase your release. A real release, not one that mimics someone else’s joy.

The sound of your name falling from Buggy’s painted lips fills the room and your head as you empty your balls. Your thrusts grow erratic and sloppy, disrupted by each pulse shooting deep inside Buggy.

Rubbing your face on the back of his shoulder, you press soothing kisses to each mark and murmur soft appreciations and unnecessary apologies.

Your heart beats heavily, the sound of exertion and uncertainty reverberating off of Buggy’s back. The hand wrapped around his body feels the same tempo beating in him. Before you could pull away, Buggy wraps his hand around yours.

“Don’t go,” he whispers.

You don’t answer. For a painful moment, Buggy wonders if you were going to ignore his request, just as he did once before. The sting is eased when you nod against the back of his head and tighten your embrace.

Finally, the persistent longing that had been lodged in Buggy for so long was gone. And in its absence was you. Just you.

[xxsycamore]

One Hot Love

╰┈➤ 📸 Because we're not ready to let go of summer just yet.

Fenrir Godspeed x Main Character + Fenrir/Alice/Ray/Sirius/Luka/Seth • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Polyamory; they're all dating; but focus is on fen/alice; Beach Sex; Road Trips; modern elements; i gave them cars and car radios basically; Skinny Dipping; Water Sex; Vaginal Sex; getting caught; Outdoor Sex; Banter; Black Army polycule • wordcount: 1,780 • masterlist

a/n: That was me paying homage to the passing summer WHAT HAPPENED, WHY COUDN'T I POST THIS ANY SOONER? Anyway, One Hot Love by Makoto Matsushita was THE summer song for me this year, and at one point it aligned with my ikerev nostalgia so here we are... always wanted to write a black army polycule <3

"Man, that song is stuck in my head now. Putting the only CD we could find on repeat was no doubt better than going the whole drive without any music on, but…"

"What are you talking about, you could have listened to Seth's melodic voice instead~!" Alice gawks, a hand over her heart in a display of affection that seems to be aimed at riling Fenrir up. Though, knowing how the 10 of Spades has her head over heels for him, Fenrir won't be surprised if that's her genuine reaction to listening to the man's monologues for four hours straight. And despite that they all love Seth, Fenrir is sure that in this aspect Alice is alone.

They came here with the rest of the officers and the King to check out what was reported to be a group of disciples from the Magic Tower disrupting the peace around the coast. Ray insisted on checking it out personally and the others kind of tagged along and from there it turned into a (work) road trip.

"Uhuh. Either way, boss looked like he's seconds away from taking the gun from my holster and aiming it at the car radio."

"He wasn't even the one driving, though… Was he too sleepy or something? We did get here only after it got dark yesterday but I thought it wasn't past his bedtime…"

"Pfft, sounds like him! But no. I know what got him so worked up but I won't tell ya~"

"Feeeeen! C'mon!"

Stopping in her tracks for a second, Alice lets out a deep sigh when the Ace just keeps taking long strides across the sandy path, refusing to satiate her curiosity. Letting out a loud "Hmph!" that falls on deaf ears due to the sea breeze surrounding them, Alice dashes forward to join Fenrir's side again, and keeps the pace until he's the one walking behind her instead.

A harsh and sudden gust of wind blows by, and Alice all but feels her uniform skirt flying upwards.

"Eeek!"

"Ohh, so you're wearing the pink ones! Nice!"

Putting her hands protectively on her rear as if they aren't the only two people on this beach to begin with, and as if Fenrir didn't just see everything there is to see, Alice throws him the best mean look she can muster before slowing her step so they're side by side again.

"Sorry for teasing ya. I promise I won't cheat if you want to play guess the panty color with the others tonight."

"It's really not about that!!" The focus of Alice's bewilderment quickly shifts from his ridiculous logic to the way he stops her right there and then for a kiss, full on the lips and tasting like the minty ice cream they shared awhile ago. She finds herself savoring his sweet lips, feeling the sun's warmth engulf them fully now that they stopped in their tracks.

"Ya know, I could really go for a swim right now."

Seems like he's not the only one feeling hot now.

"Just like that? Isn't the water cold…"

"One way to find out." Fenrir grins boyishly, the same smile she once fell for, and then kept falling for every day since then. Before she can even blink, Fenrir is already pulling his hoodie over his head and walking in the direction of the shore. Following the rush of wildness, Alice is no different as she gives into the moment, stripping down to her underwear. At least she diligently folds her clothes before putting them down on top of one of the nearby rocks, even if it means Fenrir would beat her at getting to the water first.

"Woohoo! Alice, come here! The water is perfect!"

Losing no more time to join Fenrir, Alice gives up on her cautious approach and lets the waves splash against her as she runs towards them, even when they make her squeal.

"Liar! It certainly is at least a little bit cold…"

"I gotcha."

Before she can complain more, Fenrir enfolds Alice in his toned arms from behind, acting like a big blanket.

"Fen… you're not wearing any underwear…"

"Yeah? Are you?"

Alice shivers as he runs one hand down to check, but the touch is more than welcomed, to her own surprise. She turns around in his arms and places hers around his neck, looking at his deep magenta eyes.

"Remember what you promised me a few months ago? About the next time we go to the beach together?"

"That I'm gonna finally have my way with you in the water like I always fantasized about? Why are you smirking at me like that now?"

Being called out on it, Alice's grin only transforms into a series of chuckles that she tries to hide against Fenrir's broad chest, hoping that he'd get the idea already.

"Alice, mind if I check once more if ya still wearing those pink panties? Just to make sure."

"F-Fen-!"

Receiving her affirmation in the form of her arms tightening their hold around his shoulders, Fenrir's calloused fingers find their way down the curve of her ass and between her legs. They slip under the thin material, crawling inside to find her dripping sex.

"Haah-"

"Still making sure, hold on."

His touch ghosts over her folds, his other hand joining on her front to stroke her clit inside her panties.

"What were ya asking about my promise to you?"

"Do you…think us coming here today counts? Ahh-"

Rubbing on her aroused nub with no remorse as if determined to make her explode on his fingers in mere seconds, Fenrir uses the proximity to the fullest as he nibs Alice's earlobe playfully.

"Do ya want it to count, Alice?"

It's a silly question, with how far they've already gotten. When they're together, it's always hard to say who started things first. The firm erection pressing flush against Alice's belly tells her they're not leaving the water without one last unforgettable summer memory.

"Make it count. I want you so bad."

"Hah! You finally said it." Fenrir chuckles, leaving a trail of wet kisses across her nape all the way to her lips, capturing them with his.

It serves as a distraction as he picks her up, making her instinctively wrap her legs around his torso.

"Hold on tight, Alice. I'm not stopping 'till you're seeing stars."

Running her fingers through the unruly locks at the base of his neck, Alice groans as she feels him guide the tip in, letting gravity do the rest as she sinks down on his girthy length with delight.

"Gods- Why haven't we done this before-"

"That's what I was asking! Ahhh- Fuck, Alice. I want you everywhere, all the time, what are you doing to me?"

Alice's hearty laughter is interrupted by the erratic moans ripped out of her throat by Fenrir's deep thrusts, and she knows perfectly how he feels.

"You can have all of me, Fen! I want you so bad! Ahhh-"

Moving her body up and down on his length at a rapid pace, Fenrir kisses every part of Alice he can put his lips on, her sun-kissed shoulders, her arms sprinkled with small seawater drops that are salty on his tongue, her nape with the sweet strawberry scent of her shampoo mixing with the sea breeze.

Alice sinks her nails into his shoulder blades, knowing how much he loves it when she does that, and lets herself go; the orgasm rushes through her body like a lightning strike, pleasure spreading hotly from deep inside her and making her whole body glow in ecstasy. She opens her eyes while throwing her head back, and takes in the endless blue sky above.

Fenrir keeps thrusting into her, making water splash around them as he whispers how close he is, how good she feels around him - and then he brings her down on him hard one last time, keeping her flush to him before filling her with his warmth.

With the cease of movement, they can finally enjoy the kisses they can't hold back from giving each other, the rustling of the sea drowning the little moans of afterglow that escape their thirsty lips. Suddenly feeling giddy again, Fenrir holds her up a little more and makes a little spin in the water, enjoying the girly squeal she lets out. It's only when she is turned to face the shore that she notices.

"Oh my god, that's Sirius and the guys!!"

"Huh?" Fenrir looks over his shoulder and indeed, he can see the figures of one man with his arms crossed on his chest and another three standing not far behind him. "Should we wave at them?"

"Hell no! C'mon, let's go!"

***

"We already ate without you, by the way."

"What?! Noooo! I'm never going patrolling with Fenrir again!"

While Alice laments the loss of her lunch, Seth is already there to squeeze himself between her and Fenrir the very second Alice lets go of Fenrir's hand.

"But Alice!~ Your knight in shining armor is here to save you from the brute, and he even packed you leftovers! I'm not letting my Alice die from hunger like that. Oh my, your face is so hot! Why haven't you put sunscreen on?"

"There he goes again…" Fenrir frowns, resorting to joining Ray's side instead, the latter patting his shoulder sympathetically. Returning the gesture by bringing his arm around Ray's shoulders in turn, Fenrir notices the label sticking out of Rey's uniform shirt.

"Oh? What do we have here?"

Upon tucking it back for him, Fenrir sees something curious and pulls a little more on the fabric, leaving a confused Ray as the group stops in their tracks.

"Hey Boss, since when are your initials S.O.?"

Seth is the first to grin knowingly, chiming in. "And aren't your sleeves a little too long?"

Luka inspects the truth of those remarks, blinking in question. "A mishap with the laundry?"

Seth trades his dear Alice's presence for that of Luka's, just so he can lean down and whisper something in his ear, shielding it with his hand while looking directly at Ray.

"That's- Hey. You two better keep your mouths shut, or- And Fenrir, we haven't finished with you yet. We talked about this."

"What? Fucking on the clock? Like hell we're the only ones doing that. Besides,"

Fenrir arrives at Alice's side again, wrapping an arm around her waist for emphasis."…That's what summer's for. Having fun."

Alice blushes, attempting to make things better even if she's just as guilty.

"Fen, it's hardly summer anymore. But… I think you can blame our love for that.

"That's one hot love, then!"

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 ​ @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @judejazza Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[howlingday]

The Best Movies I've Watched This Week

This past week, Monday through Friday, I've been watching movies. These are my thoughts of each of them.

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

Morbius - Average vampire movie, Awful Marvel film

Watching this one felt like such a drag, a real slog through pretty generic superhero origin stories. Got bored at one point and looked into the real Morbius, which is when I asked myself, "Why?" Like, why did they make a movie about a comic book vampire that looks like a less entertaining MoistCr1tikal? Why would you make the infirmed kid grow up to be a serial killer and act so whiny because his best friend didn't want to play vampires with him? Also, why did this experiment have to take place at sea with NONE OF THE EQUIPMENT SECURED, DO YOU NOT KNOW WHAT GEAR ADRIFT MEANS, SHIPMATE- Khm! Excuse me. Lost myself there. All in all, I wouldn't really bother this one. At least not until the last few minutes WHEN VULTURE SHOWS UP?! WHAT IS GOING ON?!

(4/10) Not enough morbs, even with so much time.

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

The Super Mario Brothers Movie - Exactly what I thought, and so much more!

When the movie was first announced, it received mixed reviews. On the one hand, we're getting a Super Mario movie with Charlie Day as Luigi and Jack Black as Bowser! On the other hand, we're getting a Super Mario movie with Chris Pratt as Mario, Anna Taylor Joy as Princess Peach, and Seth Rogan as Donkey Kong. Finally seeing it, I actually enjoyed it, though I do have my gripes, the biggest of them being the cast they chose. Over time I kinda started to get what they were going for with Mario; Chris Pratt playing the everyman, which actually works well since that's actually who Mario has been since the original Super Mario Brothers game. And, actually, Seth Rogan as Donkey Kong surprisingly made sense for his character, which, let's be honest, DK totally would be a showboating Kong celebrity. But, alas, my biggest gripe unfortunately still stands; Anna Taylor Joy as Princess Xena Warrior Princess #Number. I get that they were going for a professional/regal person, which she does fine, but... That's not really what Princess Peach from what I saw. She was all business and serious, which isn't the same Princess I've seen and played. Honestly, if they had a scene where she decks a troop of Koopas while drinking tea, I would have bought the role, but... She didn't, so I didn't. Bowser being hopelessly in love with Peach while throwing his weight around, Luigi being a timid scaredy-cat while looking for his brother; both spot on and having Po and that one nutcase from Always Sunny fit BEAUTIFULLY for these characters. And, of course, all the little references, too. Which, speaking of, I have one last question to ask; why didn't they have Cranky Kong, the biggest nostalgia crybaby, not make any sort of critique on anything other than "my son is a fat-headed idiot"?

(7/10) A fun trip through eight worlds but try not to get lost in the monumental cast.

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Venom: Let There Be Carnage - I am SHOCKED how much I liked this movie!

When I first saw, well, the first Venom, I liked it, even if I couldn't see most of it. Unfortunately, when I looked for cool quotes from the movie, I got edgelord dialogue, which was... Ugh. When I heard Carnage was going to be in this PG-13 sequel, I had concerns, mostly because I'm a huge Carnage fan. Finally sitting down and watching this sequel, though, I... Well, I said it before; I am shocked at how much I love this movie! Really! The theme for this one was about relationships, which Venom and Eddie show so well; I can see why everyone said this was just one big rom-com superhero flick. Everything about their relationship screams with details of how their dynamics work; the in-fighting, the separation helping them grow as individuals, and their synchronized dialogue is all so entertaining to watch. Unfortunately, as much as they fixed from the last movie, they still couldn't fix the biggest one, which was Eddie Brock. Just... Eddie Brock. He's still the same sweaty, timid loser. He looked like he was about to throw up throughout the entire movie. Also, Carnage is in a PG-13 movie... Oh, shit, I just realized the F-word rule! They used it perfectly! Holy shit!

(8/10) If you aren't willing to eat heads with your spouse after this one, are you really symbiotic?

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Kung Fu Panda 4 - This McDojo just keeps rolling...

I'm not gonna sugar-coat it. This is probably the worst film I watched this week, and it's mostly because I went into this expectations of it being an at least decent film. Running on the cinema flavor of the year, "Passing the torch," Po must retire as Dragon Warrior and become the next Oogway. While searching for his successor, he meets a thief named Zhen, who I honestly loved watching play off with Po. Their chemistry is so hilarious to watch with Po as the innocent man-child and Zhen as the street-smart con artist. I'd love to see more of their dynamic. That said, it doesn't change that this film is easily the weakest of this Kung Fu Quartet. The villain is The Chameleon, whose motivation is so transparent, it's honestly insulting that they didn't use as a joke in this film. Oh, and Tai Lung is back, which is great seeing him come back and, y'know, be Tai Lung, but it's also obvious nostalgia bait when you realize that they only brought back Tai Lung. Sure, Shen and Kai make a come-back, but it's not as important as Tai Lung... or Scott, for that matter. And the worst sin of all in this is Master Shifu, who has stopped being the "gruff, yet wise elder" and is now just "mean old man". The only reason Shifu is in this film is because Po needs to be nagged at because his dads aren't doing it. Oh, and by the way, if you want to see two people acting like a married couple without being married, it's these two. Seriously, half the film is them chasing after Po while being the best of friends/roommates/business associates you will ever see. Oh, and the Furious Five are here, too... Technically.

(4/10) This film is like a dumpling... I've never had dumplings.

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One Piece: Stampede - A pirate adventure with an easy-to-follow treasure map.

I am a huge fan of One Piece. Heck, I'd even go as far as to say that it's one of my favorites. That being said, while I enjoyed this film, parts of it did feel a little predictable. The villain wants to prove he's the strongest, while the other villain wants to show up Roger by creating a new era where it's basically a free-for-all between Douglas Bullet and the rest of the world. Honestly, I feel like this movie was just for the cameos, which are usually some of the worst parts of these films lately. It's not as bad as Gold, but I've seen it done better in another film (stay tuned). But I had fun, and that's what really matters, right? Right?

(6/10) Come aboard and leave behind all your depth and charm~!

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One Piece: Red - One Piece has gone Disney in the BEST WAY POSSIBLE!

Just like the previous film, this One Piece movie has a lot of cameos. However, UNLIKE the previous film, the cameos are used perfectly! Everyone has a role to play, no matter how small it is. The villain of this film, Uta, has a relatable goal, even if her power is unrelatable. Honestly, Tot Musica isn't the wildest concept in a world like One Piece when you have people gaining powers by eating fruit, a bear and a deer can talk and do Kung Fu by two different methods for each, and you can ignore whatever you want by simply believing it can't happen. Honestly, Uta kinda feels like a music-streamer, like IronMouse or Nyanners, and her motivation to create a world free of strife is so heartbreaking. Oh, and yes, I've been arguing this in my head for about ten minutes and I can definitely say that this movie is a musical, since each musical number serves a purpose in the film. And each one is a bop, and if it ain't a bop, then it's bringing me to tears. That or it's setting the tone by summoning Tot Musica. The only gripe I have is with the ending because... It's just too darn sad. Granted, it's not canon, but Uta is, and... I dunno. Oh, and Shanks is here, too, and... Yeah! That is definitely what I'd expect Shanks to do! Heck, it's what I expect any of them to do! This movie does the cameos right, it does the music right, and the only thing I don't think it does right is the ending. Oh, and Sunny Go is a plush baby.

(9/10) And the melody will last forever in your...

[alpydk]

Red On You. (Rugan/Gale)

(Part 1)That's right. The ZhentWeave train is setting off once again. This time with zombies! Why? Because this is what I want! If you've not read the first part Tattered Souls, I suggest you do, because it's awesome.

Summary - It's been a year since Rugan and Gale hooked up and life has been pretty good for them. But just like with anything, the cracks have started to appear. Will an outbreak of the undead be enough to save the relationship of the unlikely pair?

The emerging sunrise over Waterdeep was a relaxing sight as Gale lifted his head from the large leather-bound book held in his hands. Shades of orange and pink danced on the midsummer horizon and the sea waves lapped idly against the docks as he sat on his balcony as he had so many times before, tracing his finger over ancient words and thinking of how his life had changed so drastically in the last two years. He’d jumped from Mystra to Mindflayers, from Tav to Professor, and yet the leapfrog jumping had not ended there. A year ago, he had met Rugan, their relationship one with a tumultuous start. It had begun with thievery in various locations, a desperate kiss on a classroom table, and had eventually resulted in the destruction of one of the largest warehouses on the southern docks.

Months later, the quiet snores could be heard from the bedroom. Gale sighed deeply, an interrupted night of sleep yet again causing him to retreat to the balcony to relax with reading and night sky stars. It wasn’t even being rudely awoken by the protective spell that he found irritating; it was the lying that came with it, the denial that alcohol had been involved despite the scent of liquor which clung to Rugan’s clothing. Something had changed in the last few weeks and Gale wished he could pinpoint what had happened for this sudden shift in behaviour. Had it been the introduction of Astarion to an ex-Zhent which had caused the problem, the two of them bonding over their lives of crime, or had it been the lengthy discussion about the future sparking a fear of commitment? Either way, things had changed and not for the better.

The morning would start as it had the previous four times, with hot kaeth and the Waterdeep Wazoo passed between them in silence over the shared kitchen table. Gale would wait for Rugan to wake up a little before the interrogation would start, passive questions at first, asking if it was a good night out or how Astarion was faring. Then would come an inconsistency in the tale which could be built on: Did you not just say you were visiting the South Ward? South? Sorry, I meant North. Today was no different for the pair.

Rugan sipped at his kaeth, exhaling in satisfaction as the bitter brew warmed his insides. “You don’t half make a good cuppa.”

“You can quit trying to butter me up,” Gale spoke curtly, barely looking up from the broadsheet grasped in his hands. It was almost noon, and he’d wanted to get into the markets before it had become too crowded.

“Ah, don’t tell me you’re still pissed about me coming in late last night.”

“Not pissed, merely agitated. I would have assumed after getting caught in the hold person spell a year ago, you would have learnt your lesson quite thoroughly.”

Rugan smirked over his mug. “Maybe I was just in the mood for a little nostalgia.” He heard the scoff and reached forward, lowering the newspaper. Deep brown eyes stared back at him, annoyed but with the kindness and love still buried in them too easily to ignore. “Or would rather play healer again?”

“There will be nothing of the sort.” It had been some time since Gale had lost his temper. He was almost tempted to reenact a previous engagement and throw a plate for the sake of enforcing his point, but he stuck with the needed lecture instead, putting the paper down and staring directly into Rugan’s pale blue eyes. “Four nights now you have skulked off with Astarion coming back reeking of the taverns, lying to me of your whereabouts with little regard for my input. And now you have the nerve to insinuate that I would be intimate with you after such behaviour? You’re lucky I still tolerate having you in my home.”

“Ah, don’t you think you’re overreacting a bit? Was just a few drinks.”

“Over-” He breathed deeply, composing himself, and reigned in the anger that clung to the tip of his tongue. “Look, I have errands to attend to. I’m in need of new alchemical components. I trust you can take care of yourself for a few hours.” He paused for a moment before letting a slither of frustration out. “Like an adult.”

Rugan rolled his eyes. “Sure, mate. Whatever.” His hand slid over the table, grabbing the paper and flicking to a random page. Body found at Azuth’s Mug! He skimmed the article, ignoring the movement going on around him, as robes were collected up and the door slammed. He knew his behaviour of late had been questionable, but if the truth was to get out, everything could be ruined.

With his chair reclined, he let the mug of kaeth before him grow cold. He was half tempted to run after Gale, maybe try a half-arsed apology just to tide them over for a few more days. After all, he only needed was one more late night and then things could return to normal between them: coffee shared, flirty remarks, that thing Gale would do with his tongue… Rugan found himself lost in thought at the idea, a smile creeping on his lips. Just one more night. 

---

Friol sat unimpressed at the bar of the tavern in the Castle Ward. The job was meant to be an easy one: transport some item from point A to point B, no stops, get paid. Done and done. The bodies upstairs were not part of the plan. Neither was the missing artefact. The plan, as far as she was concerned, had gone completely out of the window and now so had the payment.

Waterdeep in total had proven one disaster after another and now she knew well why no one else had wanted to take up the mantle of the Zhentarim leader there. It had started well with getting set up: mercenaries were easy to hire, wizards were so desperate for magical artefacts that they would make all sorts of shady deals to acquire them. Despite that, things had gone wrong. The interference of Rugan and Gale had caused major issues within the organisation. So many of the resources destroyed a year ago couldn’t be restored, and she’d ended up having to make her own deals, now finding herself in the pocket of her superiors back in Baldur’s Gate, a place no Zhent wanted to be. She stared directly at the bottles that taunted her from behind the bar, each one a target for her buried anger, and ran a hand through the knots of her dread locked grey hair.

“Like a fucking bloodbath up there,” spoke an approaching half-elf, her ebony hair hanging loosely over her back.

“Report, Darnys.”

She straightened up with the order. “Both Bris and Dillie are dead. Ripped apart by the looks of it. No sign of Tibs. As for the transport, it’s gone too. Window looked to have been smashed from the inside. I’m figuring Tibs has double crossed us, taken it and scarpered.”

“Tibs?”

“Yeah. You know, the Gnome with the annoying voice. You said he needed to give his testicles a pull if he ever planned on talking to you directly again.”

Friol smiled to herself at the memory. “Ah, the new recruit. Brown nosing little fuck. Well, you know what to do: track him down, show him what we do to traitors.”

“And the other two? They’re… well, it’s messy.”

She tapped her small fingers on the wood of the bar, the slick residue of old ale catching under her worn down nails. “Bring them back to the base. Use a shovel if you must.”

Darnys grimaced at the thought, the image she’d seen upstairs turning her stomach despite her years of experience with the mercenary organisation.

“And find me that artefact. We don’t get paid unless it gets delivered.”

“Consider it done.”

Hopping from the bar stool, Friol patted herself down, giving her knee a subtle rub in passing. Since the blast of the warehouse, it had given her grief, but showing weakness in front of a subordinate wasn’t an option. “You said, ripped apart. In what way?”

The blood and guts staining the walls, floor and ceiling, filled Darnys’ vision. She fought the rising bile in her throat, swallowing deeply. “I’d say like an animal or something.”

“Hm. Just curious how little Tibs could do such damage. Druid?”

The question was a thankful distraction. “No, though I believe he had some experience with dogs at one point.”

Something was stirring in the back of Friol’s mind, a piece of overheard or read information that had seemed insignificant at the time now trying to emerge. She couldn’t quite remember what it was and so, with all orders given, she began to leave the dim light of the tavern. “Two days, Darnys. You have two days to find me that artefact.”

---

The marketplace was as busy as Gale had expected, tourists haggling over worthless knickknacks as gifts for loved ones they’d barely thought about during their visits. He weaved past the hustle and bustle of the crowds, his eyes drawn to the small shop where he could collect his order before retreating to his tower. He’d wanted to do the outing earlier, wanted to enjoy a leisurely stroll, but the daily habit of kaeth and talk of the news was not one he wanted to break anytime soon. Today may have involved clenching his teeth for the entire morning in waiting for it, Rugan sleeping it away without a care in the world, but it was how things were now.  

“Well, did you hear? Apparently, it was proper brutal.” “Yeah, but people die all the time in taverns. Were probably just some bandits or something.” “My cousin says it was a wolf that did eat them.” “Your cousin thinks every murder is from a wolf. Anyway, what’re you buying?”

Gale ignored the gossip of the shopkeeper and customer as he collected his wares from the shelves, their words trailing off as he thought about how was going to deal with everything when he got back home. He was annoyed by the pettiness of the whole situation, at the lack of respect being given by Rugan, at Astarion, who should have known better by now than to come along and spoil everything. The intrusive whispers of self-doubt emerged in Gale’s mind for the first time in months, wondering if, for a moment, the problem with was how he’d doted and pampered his partner. Cooking, cleaning, gifts. Gale had done as he always did with his loved ones and spoilt them, worshipped them. Maybe the same was happening again, and he was being overbearing. His thoughts continued to spiral, questing his actions more and more, and he approached the counter slowly, not noticing the vendor eying his wares.

“Found everything you wanted.”

He was pulled from his thoughts quickly, needing a moment to gather himself. “Yes. Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.”

“Good, good. Witch hazel, eh? Looking to hide some bodies?” The shopkeeper chortled to himself at his own joke.

Gale appreciated the humour, forgetting his problems with the interaction. “Haha, I do hope not.”

“Well, you’d better be careful. Guards’ll be on the lookout for something like that, what with that murder that happened and all.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

He left the store, considering the conversation at length. All the talk of this murder was making him uncomfortable, a niggling in his mind like that of the tadpole so long ago. Waterdeep wasn’t some quaint little hamlet; he wasn’t completely naïve, and he had seen and heard a fair share of the dangerous goings-on that happened in the region. Hells, he’d even been a part of one himself a year ago, but for one death in a tavern to be stirring up so much talk amongst the city folk, it had to be something more than just a drunken brawl. He walked back to the tower slowly, past the market stalls and city goers, past the houses and their happy families, past the temples and their ever-watchful gods, and hoped that maybe this was all just a little summer hysteria.

---

“My son, what brings you to us on this fine day?” The cleric of Ilmater welcomed the gnome into the temple, seeing how he carried his body as if in pain. She spoke softly, beckoning him to come closer. “It’s quite alright, we welcome those of all backgrounds.”

He wanted to speak, wanted to cry out for her help, but it was as if his mouth was not his own. He could taste the blood on his lips, the copper mixed with bile residing on his tongue. Stepping forward, Tibs reached up towards her. Pustules dotted the back of his pale hand, some oozing as the strain of his muscles caused them to burst.

By reflex she stepped back as the odour of decay hit her nostrils. Thinking over her training, she took a deep breath through her mouth, trying to hold it as she leant down to help him. She’d always been taught that nobody should be turned away in their moment of need and she wasn’t going to let this person down simply because of how they looked or an unpleasant smell. “Oh, you are quite sick. Come, come with me.” She took his hand in hers, noting how cold and clammy his skin felt under her touch, and led him further into the temple. “Don’t worry. Everything will be okay.”

[crypt-void]

List of random obscure stuff I'm fascinated with for no reason, or maybe there is a reason, but I'm too tired to figure it out:

1. Small spaces that aren't really safe given the overall environment, but that still feels safe for whatever reason. (Ex. 2D's underwater room from Plastic Beach, my own room, horror game safe rooms, the backseat of cars driving at night.)

2. The cold. Any version. The Arctic, snow in Texas, the sound of a box fan in the middle of winter. Snow. I like the cold. I like walking in it and having it surround me.

3. Blue noise. The ambiance noise. It's my favorite kind. It sounds cold. Ain't that neat?

4. Early 2000s nostalgia. This one's more understandable, considering I grew up in the 2000s. Particularly focused on the technology because young me was a big fan of the 'puter. Throw in a DS, and I'm sold.

5. Nautical stuff. I know next to nothing about sailing, but you bet your ass I love me some boats and sailors. Oh, or lighthouses and lighthouse keepers. Not so much pirates as just old people sailing boats. Make it cold and thats even better. Like that one oil rig horror game? Loved it. The ocean is cool too sometimes. Especially stingrays. Love em. You know what actually?

6. Stingrays. Funny dudes. Favorite animal. Any kind of ray, really. Mantaray, eagle ray, cownose ray... I think they're very cool.

7. Carousels. I like the pretty horses, fucking sue me. I'd like to design them, especially the ones with all types of animals. The ones on boardwalks or outside aquariums in particular are very cool because they have all the sea creatures.

[flowercrown-bard]

if you're still taking witcher prompts how about a theme of sentimentality and/or nostalgia? <3

ohhh i love that prompt! It brought back my love for old!Jaskier

word count: 1344

"I know I have it somewhere," Geralt said, as he got up from the bench behind their cottage, where soon they would plant a garden.He pressed a gentle kiss on the silver crown of Jaskier's head. "Might take me a while to find it, though. I think it should be with the other books. Maybe with my old bestiaries."

"I would say I'd wait for you until I'm old and grey, but… you know." Jaskier grinned up at him and a wamrth that had long since grown familiar, spread through Geralt's chest. Jaskier's smile was still the same, though the lines around his mouth had gotten deeper with the years.

"You're ridiculous," Geralt said fondly. 

"And you love me." 

"Yeah. I really do."

"Oh stop it." Jaskier swatted at him playfully and his eyes were soft and warm. "I can see right through you. You just want to flatter me so I'll agree to let you fill more than your half of the garden with herbs."

Geralt raised his hands in surrender. 

"You caught me," he lied. 

"What do I get as a reward?" Jaskier made to tilt his head back a little more, but halted the movement with a grimace, when it strained his neck too much. Worry shot through Geralt, but he remained quiet. he had learned through trial and error that Jaskier didn't appreciate it when Geralt fussed over "every minor inconvenience" he experienced. More than once, they had laughed over the irony of how their roles had gotten reversed over the decades. 

Instead of answering, Geralt leaned down and gave Jaskier a kiss. 

"I'll be right back," he said again. He hurried to get inside their home, lest he let Jaskier distract him even more. 

The cottage wasn't big, just a kitchen, a cozy living space, a small bathroom and their bedroom. It was more than Geralt had ever thought, he'd get to have and it was all they needed. One would think that it couldn't be too hard finding an old book about herbs in this modest space, but that didn't account for all the knickknacks they had collected over the years. The bookshelves were stuffed with old notebooks and Jaskier's publications. Little trinkets stood on the mantlepiece. Sea shells, woodcarvings, and all sorts of small reminders of their years of travelling together. 

Geralt let his eyes roam over all of it, until finally, they landed on one of the wooden boxes Eskel had brought him a couple of months ago and that he still hadn't gotten around to sort through. Life at the coast, though nothing compared to the stressful life they had lead before, wasn't quite as calm as Geralt had feared. There was always something to do and so the box had started to collect dust. 

Geralt knelt down beside it and brushed the dust away, before opening the lid. Yellowed letters, empty bottles and rusty knives greeted him. He carefully took them out of the box and set them aside. Useless trinkets they may be, but they had decorated his room at Kaer Morgen for decades. Though he would never admit to it openly, he was a sentimental man and the thought of throwing away his first knife or the letters his brothers had sent him on the path didn't sit right with him. Geralt put the last of the letters aside and paused. 

There, grinning up at him, was Jaskier. 

Or rather, a painting of him. Geralt's heart jumped and as careful as if he were handling glass, Geralt lifted the framed painting out of the box. With his fingers, he traced Jaskier's smile, the crinkle of his eyes. In the painting, he was younger, much younger than now and he had his arm flung across Geralt's shoulder. 

"Geralt?“ The door creaked, as Jaskier entered, his steps accompanied by the rhythmic clonk clonk of his cane. "I know I said I'd wait, but you've been gone for a while and I - oh." Jaskier broke off, coming to stand right beside Geralt. He placed one hand on Geralt's shoulder tonsteady himself and gave it a light squeeze. "I didn't know you still had that." 

"Me neither." Geralt glanced up from the painting. "I think we put it away so the sun wouldn't damage it."

"It still aged."

"Yeah. It did." Geralt let go of the painting with one hand to put it over Jaskier's hand on his shoulder, intertwining their fingers. "Do you remember when we commissioned it?" 

"Ah…not exactly." Jaskier fiddled with his cane and let out a little laugh. "I remember being really drunk though."

"You were." Geralt grinned. "The artist kept complaining that you couldn't sit still for a minute."

"Oh?" Jaskier gave him a unimpressed look, but his eyes were dancing with mirth. "Actually, come to think of it, I do remember one thing. The artist was also annoyed with you because first you insist on looking all stoic, but then you keep looking at me like-" he gestured to the painting, and the unmistakably fond look in that younger Geralt's eyes, "- like that."

"Hmm. Couldn't help it, even back then." 

For a while they both kept looking at the painting, each one getting lost in their own memories. Then, eventually, it burst out of Jaskier: "It looks garish." 

Geralt choked on a laugh. "What?" 

"That brooch!" Jaskier pointed an accusatory finger at a huge floral brooch hos younger self was wearing. "And that shade of green! Really, why didn't you tell me it looked bad?" 

"I'm pretty sure I did," Geralt snorted. "You said i just didn't understand high fashion."

"Oh. Well yes. Sounds about right." 

"It didn't look that bad," Geralt offered and it was only half of a lie. If you ignored the terrible outfit Jaskier wore, he did look as handsome as ever, even though he had dark bags under his eyes. He had waited through half the night for Geralt to return from his contract and when he finally had come back, Jaskier had insisted on keeping him company while he came down from his potions. 

Geralt himself didn't look much better. The scratched and bruises on his face (-not all of them courtesy of the contract. At lest two of the bruises camr from Geralt walking into a doorframe because he had been unable to take his eyes off Jaskier -) weren't the worst of it. No, that questionable honour fell on the beard covering the lower half of Geralt's face. He had lost a bet with Lambert, so he had to shave it into a terrible style. The only good thing about it had been that Jaskier had liked to scratch it like a cat's chin. Hmm, maybe Geralt should grow out hos beard again. 

Jaskier's overly dramatic gasp shook Geralt out of his reminiscing. 

"'Not that bad' isn't great considering it's memorialised for all eternity in that painting." Towards the end of the sentence, Jaskier stopped being able controlling his composure and burst into giggles. 

"We both look terrible," Geralt agreed. He turned his head to place a kiss on Jaskier's hand. 

"We do. And I love it." Jaskier looked down at him softly. "Should we maybe commission another painting? So we have something to laugh at in another thirty year's time?" 

A pang went through Geralt's chest and his breath caught in his throat. Thirty years. 

He ran his thumb over the leathery skin on the back of Jaskier's hand, crinkled and speckled with age spots. 

"Yeah," he said, his voice thicker than before. "I'd love to have another painting."

He doubted, he would look at it and laugh, but he could hope, that he would be able to look back at the reminder of his time with Jaskier and remember the way his beloved's laugh sounded. And maybe that memory was more precious than anything else Geralt could ask for. 

One by one, he put his trinkets back into the box and closed the lid again. Only the painting was kept outside of it, aged and ugly and so so beautiful.

[mephinomaly]

[TL] BIOHAZARD/Chapter 5

[ This post uses Ois~su ♪ ]

Time: That night

Location: In living quarters of the AIIE experiment grounds

Rei: Uwaa, we’re having a sleepover with all of UNDEAD~♪

Fufu. The SS preliminaries was the perfect opportunity for one, but Kaoru-kun was thrown into a desert and separated from us.

I’m happy that the four of us can have a sleepover together peacefully– gah!?

Koga: ...

Rei: Koga? Don’t throw an omanjuu at me? Is this your way of telling me you want to play?

Koga: Stop bein’ so happy-go-lucky, vampire bastard. The hell you mean, pajama party.

Rei: Oya, how nostalgic. Could this be that you want me to call you ‘wanko’ for the first time in a while?

Koga: I ain’t callin’ you that for nostalgia purposes, I’m insultin' you.

Rei: How troubling. Please don’t take your frustrations out on me.

We’ve all given our consent to take part in this experiment.

We can’t complain now, can we?

Koga: We was basically forced to? If it hadn’t been us, it woulda been like, Ra*bits who haven’t done nothin’ wrong.

Then we’d hafta live with the knowledge that them lot are now the victims whilst we watch from the sidelines.

It’s better for our own mental health to just do it for real, right?

‘Cos I don’t like this at all. Don’t forget that.

Kaoru: Ahaha. It’s definitely a little off putting and shady sounding, but it makes for an interesting story, right?

AI idols and stuff– no, technology and science in general has come a long way. Really, it’s like an old sci-fi movie.

If this was just a movie, or even just someone else’s problem, I think it could have been a lot of fun.

Adonis: I also don’t feel great about this but I am interested in terms of the development of science and technology.

This is the future we thought of when we learnt about Voc*loid and drawing AIs, and it’s becoming a reality right in front of our eyes.

We’re now living in a near sci-fi world that people from the past could only imagine.

It’s like a dream, whether that’s a good or a bad thing.

I’m excited.

Kaoru: Ahaha. That totally has the vibe of a boyish heroic novel.

I don’t particularly like that sort of thing either. At the end of the day, I’m still the son of an academic who reached for the sea in search of romance and mystery.

Adonis: I also dislike jumping into areas I don’t know about.

Rei: If we think realistically, if we had refused to take part, there was the likelihood of RhythmLink turning their backs on us.

I suspect they would be rather unpleasant in the matter.

This is a necessary step so we are not thrown to the side. The compensation is rather impressive, and, in simple terms, profitable for us.

Well, we made quite the sum of money during the SS, so we have some to spare.

If an experiment such as ‘AI idols’ is successful, implemented, and announced to the world, won’t they look to us as we were the test subjects? Doesn’t that make this all worth it?

Koga: But this doesn’t solve the problem we’re havin’. They’re just killin’ time, it literally has nothin’ t’do with our situation.

This better not turn into a goose chase, wastin’ time runnin’ ‘round lookin’ stupid.

Rei: Umu. We should all brainstorm some ideas in order to solve the root of the problem, as Koga said. Fortunately, we have been blessed with plenty of time to do so.

Kaoru: Mmm… I was kinda on guard when they said experiment, but if they’re just asking us to stay the night here?

Rei: Umu. We will be given medicine, which will cause us to sleep for about half a day. In that time, via the devices connected to our heads, data will be collected and compiled.

During the time we are not asleep, we will exercise to prevent our bodies from weakening, and eat to keep up our energy levels. Let’s all get on, the four of us.

The testing period will last approximately one week. During this time, any other forms of work are banned, as the extra stimulus may skew the results.

Our phones will be confiscated, and we will be separated from the outside world.

Kaoru: Kinda feels like being a prisoner or a hospital patient… Welp, this’ll be easy money if all we’ve got to do is laze around.

Rei: Umu. I suppose we can take it easy. We will be paid regardless as to whether the experiment produces useful results or not, so it’s not a complete waste of time.

Fortunately, this location is better than a hospital or a prison.

Look, there are some cards and board games we can use to kill time. Let’s play until it’s time for us to sleep.

Koga: Ain’t you bein’ too relaxed ‘bout this whole thing?

Rei: That’s a good thing, is it not? I’ve been acting unusually mature since my youth, so I do not have many experiences like this. Such as having a sleepover with friends of the same age—

That’s why. I can’t be sure of the future, but I know I am very happy right now ♪

[ ☆ ]

Chapter 4

Chapter 6

[mutantninjamidlifecrisis]

Hi! Idk if you'd be interested but I made a Playlist for F!Leo that has a lot of influence from MNMC (and some OMO) and I'd love to hear your thoughts. F!Leo is such an interesting character to get into the mind of I can't help but rotate him in my brain like rotisserie chicken 😅 Feel free to ignore this if you aren't

-🐢

I have a bit of an auditory processing issue when it comes to listening to music with lyrics (the words just go into my brain and get blended up into nothingness) so I tend to just listen to a lot of orchestral/cinematic soundtracks and select music purely off of vibes the sound gives off.

This isn't the first time I've had this question though, so I'm just going to throw some songs that struck me as very Leon-esque (usually after looking up the lyrics so I can actually parsing out the meaning). I'll allow you to determine how relevant/irrelevant they are.

It's Not the Same Anymore by Rex Orange County -  I've spent many months just hating on myself, I can't keep wishing things will be different, Or leaving problems on the shelf, I wish I didn't need to get help. But I do. I've been so hard on myself, Even my family can tell, And they barely saw what I felt.

That Unwanted Animal by The Amazing Devil (you can blame @somerandomdudelmao dude for this one)

Sunlit Gravy by Mesa - A man you once knew, In a sunlit grave

Pool by Samia "How long do you think we can sit here before we have to move?" - mostly just a feeling of melancholia and nostalgia that I get from this one

Free - Acoustic by Florence & the Machine - Is this how it is? Is this how it's always been? To exist in the face of suffering and death, And somehow still keep singing

Goodbye by Ramsey - Where is my home, I don't recognise the faces anymore

The Call by 2WEI (Mad World and What a Wonderful World by 2WEI while we're at it)

In the Darkness by Mxmtoon

Beautiful Crime by Tamer

Runaway by Aurora

Fix You by Coldplay

To Build A Home by the Cinematic Orchestra

Last Hope by Paramore

Minus Sixty One by Woodkid

PURELY INSTRUMENTALS (just vibes) - warning: a lot of these are uhhhh depressing/melancholic

Mi Amor by Daniel Pemberton

Saying Goodbye by Daniel Pemberton

Unbroken by Gustavo Santaolalla

Your Mother is Dead by Nicholas Britell

Ground Rules by Hans Zimmer

We're Best Friends by Hans Zimmer

There Were Days by Kin Leonn

Raindrops by John Paesano

Markus' Speech by John Paesano

Memories by Dustin O'Halloran

Free the Dragon by Schiller

My Tears are Becoming the Sea by M83

I also had a really good ask come in a while ago that goes through the lyrics of a song which seems to have very strong Leon vibes (“Just a Man” by Jorge Rivera-Herrans) which I have posted below.