#oh the trials and tribulations of magic babies

[merakiui]

https://www.tumblr.com/merakiui/744520913494671360/azul-who-was-spoiled-as-a-child-so-he-believes?source=share

Mera are you not going to elaborate 👀 on how,,,, absolutely entitled tako would be with his not so subtle complex and also riddle who deserves this okay? This is all he's truly ever wanted and by golly he will see it through to the end! He can get through any trial or tribulation so long as he can put it in you

And ofc the tweels are soooooo sex brained that ur opinion doesnt even matter, they dont even have to justifying themselves bc there is no justifying- they want you? They got you!

ACTUALLY........ now that you say this, my thoughts can be expressed more succinctly!!!!!

(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, non-con, brief mention of slut-shaming, obsession, everyone is just really horrible here)

Azul's mother and stepfather who know their son could do no wrong, so they're shocked and appalled when you start accusing him of something so disgusting. How dare you accuse him of such a horrible crime! He would never! Your parent(s) sits down with the Ashengrottos to discuss and hopefully smooth things over. Azul is so sickeningly sweet and cordial throughout the entire thing while you look scared out of your skin. You insist he's lying, that you're telling the truth, that this is what happened. But then his stepfather threatens to take the matter to court. He knows the law. In the end, you're forced to drop it because your family can't afford a trial right now.

On your way out, Azul smiles at you. Even at twenty-something, he's still their spoiled brat. So entitled! Because he got everything he could ever want from his mother when he was a child, he automatically assumes he'll have you without any problems. But you just had to reject him in elementary. You just had to make a fool out of him in front of the class. It's your fault he couldn't have the one thing he's always wanted. But now he's so much better than his past self, and this time he's not taking no for an answer.

I think it would be a similar situation with Riddle. His mother refuses to believe her son could do any wrong, and the fact that you—some slut who shouldn't be near her Riddle to begin with—have the gall to throw around such wild accusations... You must have been raised so poorly to forgo basic manners and social etiquette. Riddle apologizes profusely for causing such trouble, but his story isn't the truth. You watch him lie to his mother's face and she believes him because he's Riddle Rosehearts, the paragon of pristine perfection. Of course if you and your parent(s) continue to press the matter, Mrs. Rosehearts will threaten to sue and when you're up against the Queendom of Roses's most renowned magical doctor with her prodigious son who could never do any wrong... Surely it's impossible from the start.

Riddle does feel bad. Somewhat. Deep down he knows it's wrong, but he's never had anything special before. Everything has always been chosen for him. He's never had friends. He's never had any hobbies. He's never had a life. And when he saw how radiantly you would shine while passing through campus with your group of friends, he just had to have you. You're like those forbidden strawberry tarts from his youth. He knows it's bad, but he can't help wanting to indulge even if it breaks rules. He's been so good. Surely he's allowed one treat! If it makes you feel any better, he was just as anxious as you were when he mixed that stuff into your drink.

And the twins... oh, the twins. >_< terrible. Their mother babies them incessantly. In canon, it's noted that she tends to call them frequently (nearly every day) because she worries. So she absolutely spoils them rotten. Those are her babies; of course she will! Papa Leech is just as adoring, I'm certain, but then I feel like his love is more of a "tough love" type. In any case, the twins won't accept the word no because they're so used to just getting things. Those sturgeon scales they proudly wear? Those were won through a fight. They want and then they take. It's simple.

So the fact that you'd tell either of them no... Unheard of. All of Floyd's smiley pretenses drop when you reject him. Jade can keep up his own placidity, if only to give you another chance so that you won't whine about how unfair it was in the aftermath: "Would you like to think more carefully about your decision?"

Whatever happens, you can't say or do anything. No one's going to speak ill against the Leech family. They can't. That's just how it is.

[adore-laur]

SKIN

— a blurb from the dadrry universe 🤍

——

Harry's skin must be woven with threads of magic. There has to be an otherworldly magnetism entwined in his veins, bestowing captivating warmth on anyone who touches him. Or perhaps there's an underlying spell coursing through his bloodstream, effortlessly soothing deep-rooted aches and vociferating cries. 

It's been said before, but it bears repeating: Harry is a natural when it comes to being a lover. He has been by your side through every trial and tribulation life has cruelly thrown at you. He has willingly taken your pain during grief-stricken times and selflessly shared the burden. You've navigated the rollercoaster years of dating, marriage, and parenthood with him, all the while watching him adapt to each role with unwavering patience and grace. 

Witnessing him be a dad makes you firmly believe it's what he was made to do. It was written in the stars.

When you wake from a deep slumber—a long and uninterrupted one at that—the house smells like blueberries and homemade bread. Well, if four hours of sleep count as uninterrupted. You'll be the first to admit that you haven't missed the lack of sleep involved in caring for a newborn. 

You slowly make your way to the kitchen, surprised by how quiet it is except for the sizzling sounds of breakfast being cooked. Your tired eyes regard Harry swaying by the stovetop, a spatula in his grasp, and his one-week-old baby girl cradled in his opposite arm. She's wide awake, her swaddled body cuddled perfectly in the crook of his elbow as she mesmerizingly stares at her dad skillfully take a loaf of bread out of the oven. He has on his favorite fleece robe with the sleeves rolled up, and his hair— that's getting quite long—is flatly pushed back due to him restlessly tossing and turning all night. 

It's baffling how whenever Harry holds his daughter, she's completely content as long as her skin touches his. You don't quite understand it. You're well aware that skin-to-skin contact is essential, but it's wondrous how much she loves it with him already. 

You stand still and watch him for a few more moments, thinking about how, nine months ago, you observed him from the same spot as he made pancakes with his eldest daughter. Back when the baby he's holding now was just a tiny bump he would fawn over, growing rounder each month and getting plenty of kisses each day. 

Eventually, you refocus on the present and shuffle over to where your sleep-deprived husband is yawning and shutting the oven door with his hip. The both of you got a dreadfully short amount of sleep last night, but you think it isn't so bad when mornings look like they do with him. 

"Hello," you say, making your presence known before appearing next to him.

Harry loosens a golden-brown blueberry crepe with the spatula and sets it on one of three plates. "Morning, sweetheart." 

"When did she wake up?"

"'Bout an hour ago," he replies, his voice hoarse. "Just little whimpers, so I took her to the backyard for fresh air. She told me she wanted to make breakfast with me." 

You amusedly tilt your head to the side. "Oh, she told you that? I didn't know you could translate her baby sounds." 

"I can, actually. She also told me she wanted milk." He looks over at you and raises his eyebrows. "Pronto, preferably." 

"Here, give me her. She's definitely hungry." You take her from him and kiss her soft, munchable cheeks. "Thank you for making food, by the way." 

"That's my job," he says melodically as you walk over to the couch. You sit and slide the strap of your silk pajama top down, then remove the white swaddle from the baby's body. She instantly latches onto your nipple, causing you to wince as a dull ache initiates. 

As you feed her and zone out, you hear Harry plate the food and open the fridge several times before you sense him coming up behind you. He leans his torso over the back of the couch and rests his chin on your head. Breastfeeding has never been uncomfortable around him since you know he's appreciative of what a woman's body can supply and how draining it is to be the supplier. Often, like right now, he will silently observe his daughter fall into a state of tranquility as she suckles. It's beautiful to nurture another human using your body, and even though it's terribly time-consuming, the special bond formed during it is always worth it. 

"I'm going to get dressed," Harry says after a while, squeezing your arm.

You turn your head and pucker your lips for the first kiss of the day. He grants you several soft pecks that taste like blueberries, each with a satisfied hum, before leaving a long, dramatic kiss on his daughter's head.

A few minutes later, he comes back just as you finish breastfeeding. He's wearing a patterned jacquard-knit sweater and loose denim jeans with ripped holes near his knees. He stands before you and takes his baby girl from your arms, kissing and blowing raspberries on her full belly until she's screeching happily. 

"Who's ready for tummy time, hmm? Is it you?" She coos with a toothless smile, and Harry pretends to eat her cheeks. "I think it's you." 

He gently sets her on the blanket on the living room floor, then lies on his stomach next to her. You grab your phone from the coffee table and snap a quick picture of the sweet memory. 

After five minutes of encouragement and tracing every feature of her face, Harry picks her up and burps her. Meanwhile, you wander into the kitchen, grab the plates, and then slide the patio door open with your shoulder. You head out to the backyard, with Harry following closely behind. You're not too worried about your other daughter since she'll definitely be cranky if you wake her up this early. 

As you set the plates down and sit in the wicker lounge chair, Harry passes the baby over and settles beside you, chewing and swallowing a bite of bread. He says, "I was thinking of going to the beach later and swimming with the girls. The water is pretty calm today." 

You nod and pick at your crêpe. "Yeah, go ahead. I'll probably take a nap or something." 

"You don't want to come with us?" he asks, scrunching his eyebrows. It's gorgeous out." 

"I don't really feel like swimming. I'm not feeling my best." 

He leans closer to you and places his palm on your forehead. "What do you mean, love? You feelin' okay?" 

"I'm just tired," you lie partially. "Don't worry about me." 

"Hey, look at me." He takes your hand in his. "I'm going to worry about you. You just gave birth a week ago. Gotta tell me how you're feeling mentally and physically. Otherwise, I don't know how to help you." 

"I know, but I swear I'm—" A fussy cry cuts you off, and you sigh as you start rocking the baby. Harry soothingly massages the back of your neck, leaving a comforting kiss behind your ear. 

"We'll talk about it later, okay?" he murmurs. 

You just weakly smile and hope he'll forget about it. 

——

The sun has just begun to set, and the evening sky is a bright, beautiful orange that makes the ocean glimmer. All of you are on the beach to spend time together before an early bedtime. Harry had made dinner and is now shaking out a blanket so the both of you can sit on the sand. Your eldest daughter is distracted with her beach toys, talking to herself as she toddles along the shoreline in her swimsuit and floaties.

There's no time for peaceful watching, however, because once you plop down on the blanket with the baby snuggled to your chest, Harry sits right by you and clasps his hands over his bent knee like he's about to give a lecture. He jerks his chin and says, "You know what I'm going to say." 

It's impossible not to roll your eyes. "Do I have to?" you mutter with a sheepish grin. 

"Yes. You're legally required to talk to your husband and baby daddy." 

You just groan and prepare yourself to vent about all the postpartum feelings that have been swirling in your pessimistic brain over the past seven days.

"I'm scared of losing myself," you say, exhaling heavily. "I remember the first time I became a mom and how I didn't even recognize myself some days. It took so much energy out of me, you know? With breastfeeding, being up all night, and trying to get my body back to normal, I guess I just don't want to fall into that dark mindset again." 

Harry nods understandingly. "Do you recognize yourself right now?" 

"A lot more than last time," you reply quietly. "I mean, we're both more experienced with how to handle a newborn. That definitely helps." 

He swallows, and his serious expression reveals that he sees right through you. "Can I know the real reason why you didn't want to go swimming earlier?" he asks with a gentleness that could break you if you dwell on it for long enough. 

You sometimes wonder if your skin is made of glass or if he knows you well enough to notice all the cracks. 

"If I talk about it, I'll start crying." 

He tuts and nudges your foot with his. "And what's wrong with crying?" 

Shrugging, you defeatedly mumble, "It makes me feel like a little kid." 

"You're my wife, not some stranger to me," he stresses with a soft laugh. "I hate that you think crying in front of me will put me off. Please be vulnerable with me. I don't want you to keep your feelings bottled up." 

Your lips wobble, and a teardrop escapes as you look downward. "I don't feel good when I look at my body. I don't think I could put on a swimsuit and have you see me." Harry scoots closer and wipes your tears away, a sympathetic frown on his lips. "And I spent so long trying to accept it last time I gave birth," you add, "and now having to bounce back again seems exhausting." 

"I don't expect you to bounce back," Harry says gently. "I don't expect anything of you that involves changing your body. It's your body. Do whatever you need to make you feel good, and do it at your own pace, all right?" 

Your heart lovingly falters at his statement. "Once we can finally have sex in five weeks, it's going to be terrible. I'll probably cry." 

He laughs, and you let one out too. "Is that really what you're worried about?" 

"No." He gives you an unamused look with a hint of a smirk. "Okay, maybe. I just don't want you to look at me. I could blindfold you or something." 

"Can you look at me right now for a second?" Harry asks earnestly. You adjust the baby in your arms and meet his eyes, which sparkle in the sunlight. I look at you and see a goddess," he says, holding your free hand. "A mother to two beautiful girls who make me smile every single day. You're my safety blanket. The body you think I don't want to see is the one that grew life. That is so precious to me." 

He begins tracing his fingertips across the light striations on your thigh as he continues, "The stretch marks on your skin are there because you grew two humans, which to me is the most powerful goddamn thing I could ever watch you do. And you've done it so effortlessly that I can't help but fall in love with you more and more each day." 

In that moment, you wonder why you were ever doubtful in the first place and how the man sitting next to you can always easily drag you out of any momentary insecurity. 

Harry suddenly stands and carefully pulls you up with him. He then kneels on the blanket and spreads his arms out. "Look at you," he says over the crashing waves. "You're literally glowing in front of me, holding our baby girl that you brought into this world all by yourself, and making my heart pound just as hard as the first day I met you." 

"Stop, Harry," you tell him, heat expanding across your face. 

"No, because look at you!" He exhales sharply and lowers his arms. "I worship you. Everything you do or say, every smile and laugh, every time you look at me... I'm hooked for eternity."

You kneel in front of him with tears threatening to spill over. He cradles your cheeks and kisses you with an intensity similar to the evening waves pelting the shore. Is there a way to thank the ocean for bringing him to you? 

As the sun says its routine farewell, you bask in Harry's glow that cascades from the solicitous words he speaks and the tender touches he gives. Skin that's unquestionably loved by him, and skin that you will love at your own pace. 

——

[nfumbewalk]

About Me: Very Abridged Synopsis

Wearing my favorite old & tattered Santa Muerte shirt, my urn necklace with Rodolfo's grave dirt & my sacred ankh both for spiritual purposes and in salute to Rodolfo's MC, the Free Souls.

So, about me post. All posts are about me, but this one covers favorites & shit. 😊

Current space: Not bad. As usual but abilities are heightened. Moon is Full & in Pisces. No wonder the energy is wild. I'm a Pisces rising. Always gets me!

My Astrology: Aquarius, Cancer moon, Pisces rising. Mercury conjunct Mars (natural magician), placements for natural necromancer as well. I'm on the more dangerous side of necromancy because of my astro makeup. You get more water & air, watch out! My makeup is Watery Air, Aquarius signature.

Path: Created myself, but catching on: Muerteria. A solitary path that not only venerates muertos, but works with them exclusively for all of life's highs and lows, trials and tribulations, and everything in between. Some of us use magic with our muerto(s), others do not. Muerteria celebrates independence of thought and actions. Each of us in Muerteria represent a Greater Whole. One requirement for Muerteria is to read The Kybalion, a book about the Seven (7) Hermetic Laws. This is a foundational text of Muerteria. There are others. Are there gods? No. And, no, the muertos are not gods either. Veneration does not mean worship.

Devotee of: Muerteria & Santa Muerte.

Personal:

Height: 4'9"

Weight: I ain't fat. Here's me & Aleister again: (clothes are so baggy, wearing a loose size 12 pants &a loose size large top). He's 5'8" but looks tall to me! That's the average height for men in my family. Though my grandpa Arthur, the Freemason, was only 5'4"!

Ok. Anyway.

Mental Health? No, not touching on that. Just know that I had electroshock therapy because of severe depression & it cured me. I'm overly anxious & have PTSD. I've had the same shrink for 12 years & just got a new therapist.

Felonies? Almost. Skated by with a very serious Misdemeanor. I could have stayed in jail for a year, year & a half. But the judge at my arraignment said 20 months! 😢

Sooo what did I like about jail? NOTHING!!!

What did I hate about jail? EVERYTHING, but especially how cold it is & you get 1 blanket, the horrible food, having no rights, earning privileges, the inmates, being so LOUD, and medical waking me up at 1 AM to check my blood pressure! Oh, I failed to mention the young woman (about 18) who murdered two of her own babies! Weirdo fucking freak.

Favorites -

Music:

I'll start with my early influences. My mom got me started very very early with The Rolling Stones. I'm a life long fan of theirs. My dad liked old country, so I was heavily influenced by Johnny Cash, mostly. There was a lot of Kenny Rogers and Conway Twitty as well.

My brother is 8 years my senior and when I was about 12, he got me into 80's New Wave and introduced me to Siouxsie Sioux at 13. I was in 💖love💖!!! I started looking into the punk movement, from there I found a vampire book. It had goths & goth music in it. Found Bauhaus!! Looked at them at the music shop & bought a CD. Instant love! Peter Murphy sounded similar to my other love: Bowie!! 💖

There is so much music that I love. Currently number 1 is The Sisters of Mercy. Right now, I also love Babes in Toyland, Catholic Spit, The Devil & The Universe, Aghast, Stereo Taxic Device, Cocteau Twins (only up to Treasure album - don't really care for shoegaze or dreampop), Dead Spells, Savages, Malefixio (Spanish).

Books -

Occult: ONLY books published before a certain point. I'd say around 1975 or so, but there are good ones later. I just prefer old ones before '75 because I've found much more stability, no fluffy shit (there's some, but that's New Age, not magic & Witchcraft, generally), there's less of the 'good' vs. 'evil' bullshit, and there were more secrets contained within without being easily discovered. I've found gems that have never reached the internet. Seriously!

Other books -

I only read non-fiction. Bio's and true crime are my favorite. "The Executioner's Song," by Norman Mailer is my all time favorite! It's a true crime novel. I'm a Gary Gilmore fan. "Shot in the Heart," written by Mikal Gilmore is better. "Deviant," by Harold Schechter is a good one about ***Ed Gein - who my dad spent time around as a kid*** in small town Wisconsin! It was some time before 1958. My dad was about nine (9) years old. Dad described him as goofy & Elmer Fudd like, dumb acting.

Oh yeah - my mom almost got picked up by Ted Bundy!! Yikes! But yes, seriously, he was in Oregon and she was his type of girl. She had fast instincts, luckily.

Food -

Too much to write. I'd never complete this!

Crystals -

Amethyst - most versatile & radiates HTDE strongly. It charges very quickly in grave dirt.

Shungite: Gets rid of EMF, the muertos love that! Plus they are drawn to the 99% carbon of which this stone is composed of. Humans are carbon beings & the muertos know this. Shungite gives them the energy of the living! So does Orgonite.

Smoky Quartz: Another stone that's versatile & vibrates HTDE strongly. It's very protective and will help with grounding. Wear or carry this stone to a new graveyard, it helps tune in and protects against hostile muertos.

Regular Quartz: This is a stone that I use for multipurpose uses. It's protective, brings in muertos, holds muertos (if properly programmed), empowers everything its used for!

Jet: Used for mourning. I wear it all the time. Yes, I know it's not a crystal. Nor is it heavy. Don't buy French Jet. It's glass.

Obsidian: It's good if you like it & has many properties, like protection and grounding, but a lot of muertos don't like it much. I guess it's too sharp? My muerto doesn't mind it, but he's just neutral about it.

I have a ton more fav crystals but more favorite shit to go...

People -

My hubby. We're glued together. Hermits. My son. A few friends. My dads friend Natasha. That's about it. I don't favorite celebrities.

Movies -

Old Hollywood stuff. Natalie Wood. Greta Garbo, Bette Davis. Joan Crawford, Joan Fontaine, Orson Welles, all Hitchcock, Roman Polanski films - like Rosemary's Baby, Repulsion & The Ninth Gate; newer movies piss me off. I don't need sex in my face. If I want that, I'll watch a porno.

What I'm Known For:

Having a shit ton of useless knowledge about everything. My medical prowess. Being stubborn to a point of such frustration that ppl wanna kill me. I'm just sayin' got an Aquarius signature! Being extremely forgetful but not on purpose. Try having 120-250 joules of electricity on yer head!! I told my son that & he went totally silent for 2 minutes. He knows what joules are. He's a physicist. 😕

I'm also known for my Barstad sarcasm & humor (mom's side), which can go far beyond normal. Lol! I'm very simple & easy to please but don't tell many about that, I'm a total tomboy, if that even exists nowadays? Growing up, I was with my dad a lot, so I lived & breathed cars & junkyards were my sacred ground. Still love cars & will talk about them for hours. Older cars, that is. I still dislike fuel injection, but that's mostly earlier fuel injections, like throttle bodies. Don't think they use those anymore, hells no!

See? Total geek. Love my muertos & my cars. Think my machinist grandpa likes my technical side. I'm still talking to him. I recently channeled my grandpa Arthur, but he came in garbled. Needs work! Love grandpa's!! My dad was a very good one. Sure miss him. 😢

I do have one secret favorite! Old football!! Da Bears! Dick Butkus! And Walter Payton! I've been outed! Hate modern football! Boring, whistle blows too much, too many fines & penalties! Let em play!

That's all! Hope you got through this post in one piece.

M.M. 💖💀💖

[multishipper-baby]

Thinking about Fred/dy and baby Eze again because they'd be Disasters. Freddy especially would probably overreact in most situations- like if the kid fell down and scratch his knee, Freddy would instantly go to comfort him with bandages and get well kisses (even when Eze doesn't need them lol).

[limetimo]

RAB fics I read (17-25 May)

Love Covers Over a Multitude of Sins by crazyparakiss  “Didn’t your father teach you to never question your brother, Regulus Black?” /  “In this filthy world, full of muddied blood, only a Black is good enough to birth a Black.” Blackcest, deeply touching in a fucked up way

vitriol spills forth from my lips (i wish it were acid instead) by Anonymous In which Sirius needs a therapist but bullying will have to do, and in which Regulus is the unfortunate collateral damage.

A Battle Undone by asterialunar James discovers the love of his life isn't dead after all. In which Regulus hid in the Room of Requirement for five years. Can they build a life together now?

Dead Men's Requests by Anonymous Regulus' ghost shoots out of Voldy's wand in GoF and he asks Harry to deliver some messages. Unexpectedly cute af

just lovers (like we were supposed to be) by zeppazariel James accidentally fake dates his way to bisexual awakening AND true love.

Upon the Horizon's Verge by tenrousei_kuroi Regulus/Sirius/Remus/James gangbang with a little bit of plot *thumbs up*

Snuggles With Snuffles by FeistyAster, just_a_whorecrux In his animagus form Sirius can hear Regulus having nightmares and starts spending nights with him to sooth them. One night things... escalate. Blackcest

Fault Line by doshu for thistlecat Sirius kind of accidentally groomed Regulus into equating sex with brotherly love,,, and even after Sirius ran away form home and realised that fucking one's brother isn't a-okay, Regulus didn't get the memo. In which the Black brothers are very different and very similar.

Just Cuddle In Close by Anonymous James/Regulus/Sirius

Like Stars They Burn by ZionSunrise Sirius finds about the Dark Mark, they have love-hate sex, Regulus dies.

Regulus's New Pet by Anonymous After Regulus is almost mauled by a werewolf under the Whomping Willow, he finds himself in an unexpected position of power over his brother's friend. And I mean, he's a Slytherin.

But no one told me I could go too far... by Anonymous Regulus and Pandora become besties, elope to Italy and hunt the Horcruxes ♥♥♥ SWEET.

Tell Me How To Be In This World by TabeaOrNotTabea Regulus did a Thing before he died but it was kinda obscure blood magic thing and Harry Potter, father of five, has a shock of his life when Sirius Remus James and Lily pop up in his front lawn. Dolohov, Bellatrix, Pettigrew (and Regulus) pop up in Diagon Alley.

Ghosts by vivi1138 Regulus finds himself a ghost. Being dead doesn't mean he can't get shit done.

In The Shadows of Flashing Lights by ifyouwvntto this is looking interseting af. James and his little, not very famous music band of four years (Sirius Remus Lily) are betrayed by their songwriter Peter Pettigrew. Pop star Regulus (who secretly anonymously writes songs for other artists) is done with being a puppet and is working on ripping himself away form his studio and family. They can help each other.

I am terribly sorry for dying by Anonymous for coincidences Regulus can't believe he has to deal with this bullshit. Dying was supposed to bring him peace, not bureaucracy battles! Also how dares Narcissa have a baby and have a Malfoy spawn usurp Regulus' rightful place of the family's youngest.

Marionette by Anonymous Regulus loves Barty. He loves him. He loves him. If he says it enough times it may even become true.

R.E.N.E.W.A.L. by Doreling for Kidansong oh this is a fun one, Hermione and Kreacher have a time dust accident at the battle of the ministry of magic and get yeeted to the 70s. They make friends with Regulus and Snape and Lily and start project RENEWAL.

Trials and Tribulations by lemon_drps Regulus is straight up not having a good time and his self-made drug is failing and he's also gay and engaged to a girl and very much a poor little meow meow bastard man

The Secrets of Regulus Black by Josiem Secrets. Regulus has many of them. A bit of a slow start but it's looking good!

Pranksters and Poets by blackpotterdanvers Marauders meet Dead Poet Society but we're promised a happy ending *checks the tags just for sure* Not Canon Compliant yeah we're good

don't leave me (i want you here with me) by Anonymous a mind fuck is what this is, Blackcest but not really

beneath the ocean waves by Anonymous Regulus' animagus for is an octopus and it saves his life in the cave. Very funny with an open ending!

Borrowing Against the Past by Anonymous for coincidences screaming. Regulus didn't go to the cave, has a bookshop in Hogsmeade and a wife and children and he helps Sirius when Sirius breaks out of the Azkaban and... I can't finish this summary without spoiling the mindfuck so go read it!

Diptych by pansysnarkinson Regulus and the Diary of Tom Riddle

Ancient Runes by Soupy_George Remus and Regulus become friends over, you guessed it, the Ancient Runes

Good Old-Fashioned Loverboy by TakeSwimingLessons At 16, Sirius Black run away to Potters. At 16, Regulus Black runs away to Uncle Alphard. Alternatively, the story of James Potter's bisexual awakening. I loooove Regulus fashion sense, give it to me!

Daylight by mrthisisnotme Remus is pining after Sirius, background Jegulus

Fated to Fall by ouzell soulmates AU! Jegulus

All The Lonely People by tinyscales accidental baby acquisition via Room Of Requirement turns Regulus' life upside down but he doesn't really care because his baby Harry is so so so worth everything.

rewrite my heart (let the future in) by secretpersona :D :D :D

Black Stag by euphoricmelodyy non magical AU, I want to HURT Regulus' ballet instructor with my bare hands babe you're 14 and your gums are bleeding please stop malnourishing yourself for some old bitch's approval :( You won't be a Romeo if you die :( On the bright side, the friendships are impeccable

Star Stepper by Ourania95 Regulus runs away from home to Muggle London, is patting himself on the back for getting a good mark in muggle homeless living which is both a reasonable thing to want and possible to achieve; meanwhile Orion is slowly losing his sanity trying to find him :D

clandestine meetings by VioletMoony Regulus has to befriend the Marauders to spy on them. He is very grumpy about it. He and James are at each other's neck, homoerotically

The Marauders and the Chamber of Secrets by SilverShadow1 marauders plus lily plus regulus reading the chamber of secrets

Auror Academy - the class of 1979 by Regulus_Potter AUROR REGULUS HELLO???

Regulus And Barty's Magical Adventure by Anonymous for Grey_Kenaz I, for one, think that patricide is very sexy of Barty. Regulus does not agree with me, but he tags along because that's what friends are for.

A Lovely Little Normal Life by mothmage not a Regulus fic but a BAMF Petunia fic you shouldn't overlook

[justkeeptrekkin]

Object Permanence Prompts: I'm thinking like... a family day out? Maybe a zoo or aquarium?

Why yes, my dear, dear Tumblr friendo. I would most certainly like to write a family day out at the zoo/aquarium. thank you for the prompt <3

***

There are many benefits to being (at last) financially stable. For most of his teenage years Meng Yao focused all of his efforts on building a life that would grant him something close to autonomy. And when Meng Yao focuses his efforts, it is with a precision so sharp and precise that it is almost nauseating; the dizzy feeling of straining to look at a distant target and not letting yourself look away. Meng Yao has kept his eye on those targets for as long as he can remember.

He never imagined this being one of them. ‘This’ being the freedom to take a day off from work in order to go on a family day out to the zoo. 

A-Xing is now not so much a toddler as a trotter. The determination to run is clear, and yet toddling just doesn’t seem to be cutting it anymore -- and so he trots about the flat, laughing as he goes, like he’s performed a magic trick. Sometimes it does feel a bit like magic to Meng Yao, who will invigilate these bursts of energy with amusement and awe. It still takes some getting used to, having a child, even after all this time.

Now, A-Xing is running down the quiet path past the goat and antelope enclosures. Meng Yao watches, holding the baby’s little windbreaker, and waits for the moment that A-Xing will inevitably fall over and either burst into heartbroken tears or get right back up like a ping-pong ball.

“What do you think so far?” Lan Xichen asks.

The weather is bright and cool, and the sun is caught behind Lan Xichen. Meng Yao winces in the light, then looks ahead at where A-Xing has stopped to inspect a pebble on the ground.

“It’s calmer than I expected,” he admits. “Though that may be because it’s a Tuesday morning.”

Lan Xichen nods sagely. Initially, the thought of going to the zoo had been pretty hellish. Wei Wuxian had given them the idea, and as a habit, Meng Yao ignores most of his ideas. But then he’d gone on about how formative these early years are in creating happy memories, of doing things as a family, of experiencing days out together, expanding children’s horizons, introducing them to the animals that they’re constantly learning in their pop up books -- and Meng Yao had secretly conceded that Wei Wuxian may, perhaps, have a kernel of a point.

That, and Lan Xichen admitted later that evening whilst they were reading in bed that he had never been to the zoo before. And Meng Yao shared that he hadn’t either. And so it was tacitly agreed that they would raise their child neither like Lan Qiren nor like Meng Shi -- as hard as they both did try.

So far, they have seen otters (Lan Xichen had made a subtle comment on Meng Yao finding his ‘true family’) and giraffes (Meng Yao had returned the gag), and have not had a chance to look at much else because A-Xing has been running a marathon through the whole park. They’d stopped for an ice-cream, which A-Xing tried and then promptly decided he didn’t want after all, so Lan Xichen is currently eating a child-size, soft-serve vanilla cone.

“I’m finding it far less chaotic that Wangji suggested it would be,” Lan Xichen says after he finishes the last of the ice-cream cone.

Meng Yao purses his lips. “Wangji was dragged by Wei Wuxian on a Saturday afternoon with Nie Huaisang. I can’t imagine anything more chaotic.”

Lan Xichen narrows his eyes and his shoulders move with a silent laugh.

Up ahead, there’s the quiet whining sounds of A-Xing trying to decide whether or not he’s going to cry. He’s on his hands and knees. Lan Xichen swoops him up into his arms and blows a raspberry against the baby’s cheek before he can even think about crying, and he starts to laugh instead. The thing they have discovered about A-Xing is that he is a swiftly moving pendulum between unspeakable distress and uncontainable joy. There is rarely anything in between, aside from perhaps face-crumpling frustration.

“Look, A-Xing,” Meng Yao says. He’s using his painfully positive voice and dimply smile, which he’s discovered can sway both adults and babies. “Look -- there are penguins. Shall we have a look at the penguins?”

Bumps and bruises forgotten, A-Xing struggles in Lan Xichen’s arms to look where Meng Yao is pointing. Ahead, there is an open top enclosure with glass walls, a little huddle of penguins, and a few solo penguins hopping out of the water and waddling around. They’re small and occasionally make a ridiculous squawk. 

Meng Yao reads the placard, because, in Nie Huaisang’s words, he’s ‘like, super boring’. He sees it simply as not passing up on the opportunity to learn something.

A-Xing stares in that wide-eyed, zoned out awe that young children have. Lan Xichen holds their child and they both look into the enclosure together, heads huddled like they’re penguins, too. It’s a natural and wholesome sight, the picture of fatherhood that Meng Yao had never been able to imagine until he took in A-Xing.

“The Adélie penguin is one of the most common species of penguin, originating from the coast of Antarctica. They like to forage for their meals and are even known to steal from each other.” Meng Yao looks up at Lan Xichen, who is angling A-Xing so that he can see the penguins. “These are called penguins, A-Xing.”

“They have black and white fur,” Lan Xichen explains.

Another family stands further along from them, a slightly older child pressing her face to the glass and steaming it up with her breath. And then A-Xing begins to wriggle again, and so Lan Xichen puts him down and they watch him career ahead. Yes, it has taken getting used to, having a child. Another thing that has taken getting used to is being able to share all of the trials and tribulations of having a child with Lan Xichen. It still, therefore, leaves Meng Yao with that pleasant jolt of surprise when Lan Xichen reaches out his hand and links fingers with his.

In one of those startling, lovely moments of lucidity, he reminds himself: We’re parents.

Keeping the baby at a reasonable distance (Meng Yao itches to pick him up but allows A-Xing a certain amount of freedom), they find the aquarium. It’s dark and damp and warm and reminds him of some of the dorm rooms he had to live in at university. There are more fish here than there were there, though. And it’s more peaceful.

The light undulates through the tanks like some beautiful phenomenon in the night sky. Meng Yao holds a quiet A-Xing in his arms, brings him to the glass as they watch the jellyfish drift. Pink frills and tentacles stretch, and A-Xing goes very contemplative as he stares. That’s a very sobre expression for someone just over one year old; he must have picked that up from Lan Xichen, who has his hand on Meng Yao’s waist. The three of them watch the jellyfish in meditative silence.

The clown fish cause a little more excitement. A-Xing presses a tiny hand to the glass and makes quiet hiccuping noises of surprise when the little orange fish dart about in their anemones.

“A little orange fish,” Meng Yao points out. “It’s called a clown fish, A-Xing.”

“Fish.”

Lan Xichen goes very still next to him. They both look down at the baby.

“Fish?” Lan Xichen asks with raised brows, as if he’d misheard.

“Fish,” says A-Xing.

Meng Yao looks down at the little miracle in his arms. A-Xing utterly obvious to the somersaults his heart is doing, the tightness in his throat, the suffocating pride he feels that’s making him grin. Instead, he’s pressing his palm to the glass and frowning in concentration.

“Baba,” A-Xing says, tapping the glass. “Fish.”

“Yes, it’s a fish,” Meng Yao says as calmly and brightly as possible. “A-Xing, show baba and diedie the fish again.”

“Fish.”

Oh god. If there is anything that could make this moment better, it’s the little smile on Lan Xichen’s face, creeping up behind the dreamy look of awe. “Extraordinary,” Lan Xichen says. And then he kisses the top of A-Xing’s little black head of hair.

It is. A-Xing is extraordinary. Everything he does is extraordinary. Everything about this unexpected life is extraordinary.

My child is a genius, Meng Yao thinks as he kisses his cheeks and smiles himself giddy.

[daelupyre]

𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒

rosemarie morgana was not born, but rather created --- conceptualized by the one and only mother of monsters; who could create anything with mere brain power; but as was the case with most ( if not all ) of eve’s creations, this particular combination of two sinister species would prove to be noteworthy, even in her short time of existence. 

she was half vampire, half werewolf --- a little bit of the best ( and worst ) of both worlds. she would ravage the woods every full moon, leaving carnage in her wake. but also, even as she would walk about the french quarter, she would select her victims, and drain them bone dry, only to rip their hearts from their chests. 

she became well known, though unlike malachi, her reign of terror had a smaller scope, and she did not remain in the spotlight of recognition solo. oh no, she was well aware that there were others in her midst, committing similar crimes against humanity, but perhaps that made for a better time? it’s easier to get by with things when you are not so terminally unique, even though she was in her own sense her own creature. new orleans, with all its magic and mysticism, it was the perfect place for her to hide away. 

those who knew her, though, knew just how ruthless she was. she did not have the capacity to care about you, or anyone --- rosemarie the ruthless was an earned title. but it did not come without its trials and tribulations. oh no, the more she killed, the more her lunacy would grip her and never let her go. she was, by all accounts, clinically insane. at least that is what a human with appropriate level of naiveness would suggest. 

a short while after her inception, her abrupt welcome into the world, the hybrid’s reign of terror turned into something even she did not expect. it turned into a life on the run. she hid herself away in the bayous, only coming out when she was absolutely sure it was safe to do so. in the hunt for alphas, she too would find herself in the crosshairs. the hunter became the hunted. unexpectedly , she met malachi, and his reputation perceived him. 

she had a union with him, but in the midst of the chaos, it was short lived --- though not because of it, but because she fell pregnant. in trying to do right by her daughter, she became even more isolated than before. and when her baby was still very small, just a toddler, she met a tragic end. 

portrayed by: phoebe tonkin. 

[parisian-nicole]

Amends (Bamon Fic)

Summary: What would you do differently if you got the chance to go back in time to relive life all over again, well read on and find out what the folks on Mystic Falls will do

Continue to read on FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13488758/2/Amends

**

He opened his eyes with a start. His wide eyes quickly scanned the room before settling onto the fire blazing in the fireplace. It took him a few seconds to take in his surroundings before he realized he was home, in his study. But it had been the pressure on his chest that had made him snap his eyes down to the face of a sleeping Elena Gilbert, who was curled on the huge leather couch wrapped around him. He jerked a little and as if she were waking from a fright-filled dream, Elena's eyes shot open and she abruptly rose up and stared down into familiar eyes.

"Stefan, what happened?" She spoke out as she sat more upright upon the couch along with Stefan.

"Elena," He replied. "How did you get here?"

"Uhm … you invited me over," She replied confusion clear on her face as she tucked a lock of her long hair behind her ear. "For movie night, don't you remember?" She self-consciously rubbed her hand along her bare arm.

"This doesn't feel dead," He spoke lowly as his brow furrowed. "And I know because I was dead for a long time, here waiting for… Wait, where's Damon?" Stefan questioned as he slowly stood from the couch and stepped towards the doorway. And as if the sound of his name had conjured him, Damon suddenly flashed into the room.

"Okay, little brother, what's going on?" Damon asked as he looked between his brother and Elena whom he didn't feel as overjoyed at seeing as he would have thought. "Weren't we just hugging at the front door? Then it was like I blacked out, woke up, and I found myself at the Grille with a drank in my hand."

"So, you felt it too and remembered what happened?" Stefan questioned and Damon nodded his head a bit as he looked at his little brother with enlarged blue eyes.

"If you mean dying, and I mean the dead and buried kind. Not the undead with a need for blood, kind. Yeah, I remember it," He then turned a little and looked around the room as if he were expecting to see something out of place. "This doesn't feel like death to me and if this is my afterlife, you shouldn't be here," He pointed to Elena who stood from the couch and took steps closer to the Salvatore brothers. She frowned at the brother's interaction and conversation.

"What are you two talking about?" Elena questioned as she looked from one brother to the other for an explanation.

"I think I can explain," A female voice interrupted them. Stefan, Damon, and Elena all turned surprised eyes to the woman now standing at the entrance to the study.

"Sheila?" Stefan said and he and the others watched as Sheila Bennett entered the room, moved to the bar, and began to fix herself a shot of whiskey, which she quickly downed and then started to pour herself another.

"Okay, this might be the afterlife because I know for a fact, she's dead," Damon said as he pointed to the woman standing at the bar.

"Grams?" Another female voice called out from the foyer and Damon shot excited eyes to the entrance just as Bonnie Bennett appeared through the door.

"Bon-Bon?" He spoke out joyfully and she looked at him with her face scowled up.

"Don't start with me, Damon, this day is already weird enough without your mind games," Bonnie huffed out as she rolled her eyes from Damon's confused ones over to land on her grandmother. "Grams why are we here and oh my God, are you getting drunk?" Bonnie questioned the older Bennett witch who was finishing her third shot.

"Child please," Sheila Bennett replied as she rolled her eyes slightly. "I don't even start to feel a buzz until after 10 shots," She declared and Damon arched an impressed brow as he regarded her words briefly before focusing back on Bonnie.

"Okay, wait," Stefan ever the voice of reason cut in. "What is going on, Bonnie, how did we get here?"

"I don't know," She sighed out and she hugged her arms around herself. "One moment I'm standing in Grams' kitchen making us breakfast and she rushes in panicked and saying we had to leave, then we were here … like I blinked and then we were here. How did that happen exactly?"

"It's like the projection spell I've been having you practice, but next level," Sheila began to explain as she stepped away from the bar to face them. "You're not skilled enough to do teleportation yet, but he is, which is why we're all here now. I never should have sent you to that prison world," She spoke the last part lowly but Damon and Stefan both heard her clearly and knew what she was referring to.

"Kai," Damon hissed out.

"But how, I thought Bonnie locked him away in some other prison hell world," Stefan interjected.

"Wait, what?" Bonnie exclaimed as she looked at Stefan and then to her Grams.

"She did, but she used Gemini magic from children who were too young and weren't powerful enough at the time to make the spell powerful enough. The magic likely degraded in time and allowed him to break free. And, Bonnie, I know this is all confusing for you, babygirl," Grams spoke out as she moved to her granddaughter and grasped her hand. "I wish we had more time where we could sit down and I could explain things in more detail, but we don't have the time. Just know this, none of us are supposed to be here, we're all dead," She began and Elena and Bonnie's eyes enlarged in fright. "Don't worry, you both lived a long and happy life before you died," Sheila assured them both. "Bonnie, you and Damon died once before and I cast a spell that would stop 'you' from being blinked into oblivion when the other side collapsed, sent you 'both' to an alternate world where I thought you would be able to live the life, I always wanted for you. I didn't know then that where I was sending you was actually some prison hell world, a place designed to keep a very dangerous man. I know it all sounds unbelievable but just trust me and go with it," She said and Bonnie silently nodded as she waited for her Grandmother to continue. "This bad guy is named Kai, and you were able to stop him by trapping him in another prison world, but he was able to escape that too. Then Damon killed him…"

"So, we thought, I mean one would think decapitation would do the trick, but noooo. He's like a cockroach," Damon tossed in and Sheila nodded in agreement.

"True, so he was able to get out that time too, but Bonnie, you were able to defeat him and trap him once more, but now he's managed to get out again," Sheila continued. "This time he's decided to come to the past and try to change things before they happened. This world has already been affected by the things he's done. He's already found his twin sister Josette and killed her, but then his family's coven was able to stop him before he could claim any more of them. They're now in hiding and won't be able to help us. So, we won't be able to trap him again with any Gemini magic."

"This all sounds crazy," Elena spoke.

"You're dating a vampire sweetie, but you didn't find that crazy?" Sheila questioned and Elena clamped her mouth closed quickly.

"How do you know this, if these things happened in all of our futures? How could you remember it when I don't?" Bonnie asked.

"I don't either," Elena added.

"You're not a vampire yet," She said as she looked at Elena who instantly paled from fright at her words. "And now you may never become one. And as for you," She then turned to Bonnie. "You're not a powerful enough witch yet, I think that's why you weren't affected. It seems that only true supernatural beings retained their memories. I've already gotten plenty of calls from some witch friends of mine asking me if I knew what was going on, but I played dumb to protect you, Bonnie. Witches, vampires, werewolves, whatever, we all remember everything we've experienced 'before'. That is also why things are being changed now, some are doing things differently than they did before, which is changing the outcome of the future that was."

"Is that a good or bad thing?" Stefan asked.

"I don't know and I don't think it matters, we already lived that other future life and we know how it ends. At least as far as how it ends for ourselves. This is all a redo. A chance to do things differently, live another life if we want to. And I can tell you right now I don't plan to die the way I did before, using my powers to the point it completely drains me. I've already taken care of that problem to make sure it never happens."

"What? Grams?" Bonnie's hold on her grandmother's arm tightened as her fears heightened and worry etched across her face.

"Don't you worry, baby. Like I said, 'that' death is not gonna happen again," Sheila assured her. I don't plan to leave you now, especially not while there's danger out there looking for you. And you," She then turned to Damon. "I know you and Bonnie developed a very strong and loving bond between you, but don't think any of that wins you any favors with me," Bonnie's mouth fell open a bit at this news as she shot stunned eyes onto Damon. "That was then and this is now. So, if you want to get on my good side 'now', you protect her and help me to keep her safe," She declared.

"With my last breath," Damon promised not that it has ever been a question in his mind. He always protected his family and those he held dear. He had deemed Bonnie family long ago and through all the trials and tribulations of their long relationship she had become the one most-dearest to him.

"Good," Sheila said with a nod. "Because I will need your help to stop Malachai."

"Oh, I insist on first dibs at killing him," Damon said as a deadly gleam flashed in his eyes. "This time I won't just decapitate him, I'll also rip out his heart, set him on fire, and then I'll scatter his ashes in the wind," Damon spoke it as a promise. "I won't let him get the chance to hurt you ever again, Bon-Bon, I swear," He added and she continued to stare at him with a stunned look as her face scrunched up in more confusion. She thought his words and definitely the way he was looking at her held endearment. When just the day before those same eyes held contempt and murderous intent towards her

"And I'm gonna hold you to that, Damon. You keep her safe no matter what," Sheila declared and Damon nodded. "Because he is coming for you, Bonnie."

"But why me?" Bonnie said as a new fear filled her. "If he's out now and I have no way to send him back again why would he even bother with me?"

"Probably because you've already imprisoned him twice, so he wants to take you out and make sure there's no threat to ever sending him back," It was Stefan that answered.

"No, I'm betting it's because she destroyed hell, with a little help from her ancestors," Sheila said as she smiled proudly, as Bonnie's eyes bulged out of her head and her mouth fell open in shock. "What you did elevated you to levels of power I never even knew existed. You might just be the most powerful witch to have ever lived. So, Kai is probably very scared of you and the power you will one day wield."

"Both good guesses, but both wrong," Damon stated and all eyes fell to him. "He's coming for you, Bonnie, because he's in love with you. He's demented and a complete sociopath, so his idea of love is warped and twisted, I'm sure, but he does love you in his own way. He'll probably first start to woo you to try to get you to come over to the dark side with him and when you refuse, 'then' he'll try to kill you."

"Okay, that's creepy as hell," Bonnie said as she instinctively wrapped her arms around herself.

"You don't have to worry, Bonnie, we're going to protect you," Sheila proclaimed. "That's why we're gonna need to stay here until we can find Kai and stop him once and for all. I've already put a Kai proof spell over this house. He shouldn't be able to break it, and if he tries it will siphon his power and energy for a short time," She said as she looked to Damon and then to Stefan as she spoke this.

"Of Course, you're both welcome to stay here as long as it takes," Stefan replied as he folded his arms across his chest. "But do, you know how to find him and stop him?"

"I haven't been able to find where he's hiding out, I started looking the second I was rebirthed here back in the past," She answered. "He's got help or he's siphoned from a very powerful witch and attained their powers and skills. He's cloaking himself, but he's not so good at it. I can catch glimpses of him from time to time, but before I can fully locate him, he discovers my spell and moves again," Sheila replied and then again focused onto Bonnie. "So, you and I will have to do a lot more practicing. We need to get your magic skills up. You turn out to be the most powerful Bennett witch, babygirl. It took some time for you to get there, time we don't have now. So, with a little magical persuasion from me and a lot of practicing from you, I think we can get you there more quickly."

"But I thought you always said that I can't rush my magic," Bonnie questioned.

"That was before I learned that some evil guy would come back across time just to get to you. All the rules I told you before will not apply now. Now, it is all about keeping you safe."

"And we will keep you safe," Damon declared. The words and the look on his face convinced Bonnie that he believed what he was saying to her, though she didn't trust him at all.

"If you wouldn't mind, Stefan, could you take me back to my place so I can pack up some things for Bonnie and myself?" Sheila asked and Stefan hurriedly nodded. "When I realized what was happening I panicked and we left in such a hurry I couldn't grab what we'll need."

"Of course," He unfolded his arms.

"Yeah, and could you take me home on the way," Elena spoke out. "I don't fully understand what all is happening but I need to check on Ric and Jeremy. Make sure they're okay."

"I think you need to stay here to be safe," Damon said and Elena scowled at him, but he directed his gaze to Stefan. "He used her as bait before, she may not remember why but Kai does," He added and Stefan nodded in agreement.

"He's right, Elena," Stefan said. "But I don't know if we should even tell you why…"

"In the original timeline, in a couple of years from now you get turned into a vampire," Sheila quickly started to explain and both Damon and Stefan looked at her in confusion. "Yes, I was dead by then but I still kept an eye on all things going on here, particularly when it came to Bonnie." She answered their unasked question. "Anyway," She focused back onto Elena. "You break up with this brother," She pointed to Stefan who stood quiet with a stoic look on his face. Elena turned to stare at Stefan as she listened. "Then you get with this brother, and you two lived happily ever after, more or less," Disgust fell across both Elena and Bonnie's faces at hearing this. Elena shook her head in disbelief. "Look, I already told you we don't have time to be delicate about things. Also, none of that has to happen now, we in particular," She pointed to Stefan, to Damon, and then to herself. "We know all that will happen and so we have the power to change things and prevent things," Both of the Salvatore brothers nodded their understanding. "Kai learned how obsessed Damon was with you and that you were Bonnie's oldest friend and he used you before to get to them," She continued to explain to Elena. "And there's no reason for him not to try that same tactic, because it worked really well the first time. So, you would be safer here with all of us, Elena."

"Wait, she really goes from one brother to the other?" Bonnie interjected as her face screwed up in horrific disgust.

"Geez, thanks Bonnie, but allow me a moment to take in the fact that I will apparently become a slut before you rub it in my face," Elena huffed out as she settled hurt eyes upon one of her closest friends.

"Oh no, Elena, I didn't mean it like that, though that is kind of skanky … But I just meant, well, it seems you have a thing for vampires," Bonnie corrected. "And that's kind of ewww,"She said as she made a twisted up face.

"Oh, baby, so do you," Sheila said to which both Damon and Stefan nodded their heads. Bonnie looked to each of them in shock. "So, don't be so quick to toss around rocks when the house you will live in someday is made of glass."

"What, who? No, I don't want to know," Bonnie held up a hand and shook her head. "Because it will never happen, not now, not ever … Well, ever again. Now that I know, I can and I will stop it from ever happening," She proclaimed as she folded her arms across her chest.

"Sure, you will baby," Sheila replied with a knowing smile that suggested she didn't fully believe what Bonnie had said. "Let's go, Stefan, I want to get back before nightfall."

"I … I still need to make sure my family is safe," Elena stated.

"We'll stop by and check on them, make up some excuse as to why you need to stay here for a bit," Stefan said as he reached out and grasped her hand to reassure her.

"Thank you, Stefan, and I…" She felt the need to apologize if she had hurt him in some future that she had no knowledge of and which now just might never happen.

"It's all right Elena, I forgave you a long time ago and I even found love again," He confessed. "We both got a happily ever after with other people," He added a lie to help set her mind at ease, but his words only made her a bit jealous.

"All right, let's do this mushy stuff later," Sheila cut in. "I need to get my Grimoire and other things, we'll need all the help we can get to fight Kai," She then moved to the exit. Stefan gave Elena's hand a slight squeeze, tossed her a kind smile, and then followed Sheila out. After a few moments of silence Damon spoke out.

"Can I get you ladies something to drink or eat?" He offered courteously.

"Do you even have food?" Bonnie asked as she scowled at him, he simply gave her a kind smile as he regarded her.

"Yes, we keep food in the house in case we have guests," He answered honestly. "It's easier to keep up the pretense that we're human if we live that way for the most part. Also, we can still eat human food. I quite enjoy food actually. Yes, we need blood to live and not desiccate but there's nothing to prevent us from eating like you do."

"You know, I did wonder about that. I've seen Stefan eat but how do you digest it, I mean, technically you're dead or undead, right?" Elena asked and in reply Damon flashed to Bonnie and grasped her hand before she could react. He placed her hand right inside the top of his unbuttoned shirt and against his left breast. She looked up at him in slight fright before she realized what his intentions were.

"You have a heartbeat," She gasped out as he removed his hand from hers, but she kept her hand against his warm flesh.

"Yeah, human blood keeps our bodies working pretty much the same as it did when we were alive. Our hearts beat and our digestive system still works. Just another way we can blend in better."

"Except no matter how you might pretend, you're still just a murdering vampire," Bonnie spat out at him as she snatched her hand back and Damon flinched as the hate, he could see in her eyes and hear in her tone struck him. It had been a lifetime since he had felt that from Bonnie and it cut him deeply.

"That was in the past," He began but she cut him off.

"Actually, that was a week ago when you nearly killed me," She hissed back at him. He looked at her in confusion as he tried to recall a time so long ago to his recollection when he had harmed Bonnie. "Thankfully, Stefan was there and he saved me."

"When you destroyed the Bennett Talisman," He finally recalled as he averted his eyes to the floor in shame and nodded his head slightly.

"Right, it technically wasn't even me that did it, but that didn't stop you from nearly ripping my throat out."

"I'm sorry," Damon said softly to her.

"Apology not accepted," She replied gruffly back to him.

"Okay, you two," Elena finally spoke as she wanted to end the growing tension in the room. She could never understand why Bonnie always felt the need to antagonize a vampire-like Damon. "If what Sheila said is true-"

"Every word of it is the truth and you two need to accept that," Damon said as he looked at the brunette in the room.

"All right, then we need to work together to stop this Kai guy. So, you two need to call a truce. At least until this is over."

"Not, likely," Bonnie mumbled under her breath and Damon quietly chuckled as he recalled the time, he had asked her for a truce and she flat out told him no.

"And it's not necessary," Damon spoke out again. "You only know the old version of an angry, vengeful Damon Salvatore. The me before I changed, before 'you' helped me change. Before we grew to become friends, very best friends," He said this while he looked directly at Bonnie. "I can only recall you as my best friend. Someone I love dearly and for who I'd do anything to protect, as you've done countless times for me," These words made her feel uncomfortable as she fidgeted a little in the spot where she stood gazing into his dazzling blue eyes. "I haven't had the Judgey, 'I hate you Damon', Bonnie Bennett around for a long while, so long I had forgotten how much I actually enjoyed that side of you. Man, I used to do stupid things just to rile you up, even when I knew you'd end up giving me an aneurysm. It was worth it though because when you are that angry and full of power, you're intoxicating to behold," He ended and both Bonnie and Elena were stunned quiet at his words, which sounded a lot like a come on.

"You're ridiculous," Bonnie finally said as she dropped her head a bit and tried to shake off the feelings his words had invoked in her. Warm feelings she didn't even want to acknowledge and never wanted to examine. Damon's robust laughter made her jump a little as she raised her wide eyes back up at him.

"I've missed you, Bon-Bon," He spoke this softly as he reached up and cupped at her face. Bonnie stood there too stunned by his words to even swat away his hand. "I'll go make us some drinks and snacks while we wait for Stefan and Sheila to return. You ladies make yourselves at home," He spoke over his shoulder as he walked out of the room.

"Okay, that was super weird," Elena stated as she moved to stand right before Bonnie who nodded her head in reply. "And you and Damon becoming besties in the future…"

"A future that won't ever happen," Bonnie quickly added as she shook her head to the idea. "I don't know what kind of fucked up things happen to me in his version of the future, that would ever cause us to become besties, but I don't plan to relive it. I'll find out what happened and then, I don't know. I'll do the complete opposite."

"And exactly how do you plan to find out what happened between you and Damon?"

"I'll ask my Grams, she seems okay with letting it all out anyway, to hell with what consequences it might have on the future."

"Or, you could just ask me," Damon offered as he flashed back into the room carrying a tray with a couple of canned sodas and a plate of assortments of meats, cheeses, and crackers. He settled the tray on the table closest to the couch. "I think I can tell you about 'our' relationship much better than Sheila can."

"Okay, but me first," Elena began and Damon sighed softly as the offer had only been for Bonnie. He then inwardly laughed because he should have known Elena would be Elena and find a way to make it about herself. "Did you turn me to make me choose you over Stefan?" She asked in an accusatory tone as she crossed her arms and glared at him.

"No, but my blood, which had been stolen unbeknownst to me was used on you and then you died sometime afterward. That's how you were turned. I didn't personally do it," He answered. "And yes, your being turned, maybe even being sired from my blood, it did cause your feelings for me to be heighten. But those feelings were already there, Elena."

"And I just bet you used that fact to manipulate me and the situation," She added as she glowered at him and he nodded.

"Yup, I was a selfish bastard back then, and I was determined that I would get the girl that time, instead of Stefan. I believed I loved you so much that I was willing to do anything to have you," He spoke these words as he regarded her, subconsciously eyeing her from top to bottom before settling on her outraged face. "Oh, don't worry, been there done that, and I assure you it won't happen this time around," She blinked and looked if his cold and calloused words had literally smacked her across the face and knocked the air from her.

"Now, what about you, Bon-Bon," Damon then turned and gave the young witch his full attention. "What would you like to ask me?

"To please stop calling me that?" She asked irritated at the tingles stirred in her at hearing that nickname fall from his mouth.

"Nope," He answered with a smirk. "I started calling you that because I knew how much it irked you, then over the years it became a true term of endearment. Honestly, I don't think I could stop myself from saying it even if I really wanted to, which I don't. Next question?" He moved to the bar and poured himself a glass of bourbon.

"What exactly happened between us that made us so close, that I stopped detesting you and we became such good friends?"

"We died together, holding hands as we faced down death together," He replied and then took a sip of his drink be for continuing. "Except, instead of blinking into nothingness your Grams sent us, well it was intended for only you, to Kai's prison world. Though I don't think she knew that's what it was. Hell, I wouldn't put it passed that motherfucker to have had something to do with us ending up in his world," Damon growled out a little as his grip on the glass in his hand tightened some. He took in a deep breath to calm himself. "Anyway, we were there for months repeating the same day over and over, May 10th 1994. That day may have been a great day for someone but for us it was literal hell. As time went by, we gained a comradery, trust, and eventually friendship. At the time we thought that world was all we would ever see and all we had in that world was each other. Yeah, we still fought like we always did and one of us would storm off promising never to return, but we always did. And you and I created a moderately happy little life right here in this house together. That is until you noticed that we weren't alone. Soon after Kai made his presence finally known saying he knew how to get us out and back to our real world alive. In the end, we discovered he was a sadistic asshole who murdered several of his family members because he was power-hungry, and the remaining family sent him to that prison world."

"Knowing that we still helped him escape?" Bonnie asked in disbelief.

"That was mostly me," Damon confessed and Bonnie rolled her eyes slightly not at all surprised by this news. "I was more than willing because like I said before, I would do anything for the love of Miss. Elena Gilbert, and I wanted to get back to her," He said around a humorless laugh as he locked his eyes to the fire still roaring in the fireplace. He then gulped down the rest of his drink. "In the end, the plan got shot to hell. While working on the escape plan where you were determined to get us out and leave Kai behind, you were hurt, stabbed by Kai. But you had enough strength to send me back. I didn't want to leave you, I told you to stop but you, always the sacrificial lamb when it comes to people you care about. You sent me anyway because 'I' had become someone you cared about. And probably because you got tired of all the moaning I was doing about Elena, Elena, Elena," He added on with a smirk that widened into a smile when he noticed Bonnie trying to keep in the laugh that wanted out.

"Screw you Damon," Elena threw at him unamused. His dismissive attitude regarding her had started to irk her.

"Yeah, been there done that too," He mumbled out knowing they both could still hear him, and got the result he had intended which was an embarrassed Elena shutting her mouth. "Anyway, I was so angry with you for sending me back, because for all of my moaning about coming back to Elena I realized that I didn't want to be back without you here. I spent every waking moment trying to find a way to get you out of there. Knowing that you were there with Kai gave me nightmares. Then when I learned that he got out and left you there that just made it all the worse for me."

"So, how did you finally get me out?" Bonnie asked, her toned a bit softer than it was before.

"Oh, not me, that was all you baby," He said as he raised his fresh glass of bourbon in a toast to her. Bonnie found herself now being flattered by the endearing term he used, and she side-eyed Elena who seemed visibly bothered by it. "It may be hard for you to believe right now, Bonnie, but someday you will become one helluva witch. The likes I've never seen before and I've been alive for a very long time and have dealt with my share of witches. None could hold a candle to your powers not even those in your own bloodline, like Emily or even your Grams."

"Now, 'that' is hard to believe," She huffed out as she took in a deep cleansing breath, raked her hands through her hair, and then wrapped her arms around herself in a comforting manner as she walked over to the fireplace. Damon followed her with his eyes and made it a point to ignore the questioning gaze Elena had locked onto him. He knew he would have to deal with her at some point but right now keeping Bonnie safe was all he would allow himself to focus on. "This Kai guy, you say he's in love with me," Bonnie spoke out again as she let her eyes lift from the crimson blaze up to Damon's ice-blue eyes. "So, when you and I were locked in that isolated world with him did he and I have a romantic relationship?" Damon's face frowned up in a disgusted mask.

"God, no," He groaned out. "Oh, he flirted a lot and I know that was where his mind was most of the times. I mean, he was trapped there as a teenager and probably never got any experience with girls before then. But I was never gonna let that happen," He started and both Bonnie and Elena regarded those words curiously.

"Well, what about after you got out and I was stuck there alone with him?"

"No," Damon shook his head and clenched his jaws as he recalled the time, she physically shared all the pain she experienced at the hands of Kai. "You shared with me what he did do to you, but it was never anything sexual or romantic. He tormented you and tortured you. Then once he figured out that he could use your blood to get out, he stabbed you and left you for dead. Had I'd known he done those things to you before I decapitated him, I would have taken my time and killed him slowly. Even let you get some licks in."

"No thanks, not my thing," Bonnie said as she frowned up at the thought of it.

"You may not think so now, but what he did to you in that world changed you, and you had no issues with giving him his comeuppance, a couple of times. Unfortunately, neither lasted and here we are."

"Well, I have Grams to help me now," Bonnie said as she rubbed her arms again. "She'll figure it out and find a way to stop him once and for all."

"And you have me too," Damon tossed in and she once again locked her eyes with his. She could clearly see his sincerity. "I won't let Kai or anyone else harm you, Bonnie. You're my witch and no one will ever touch you."

"I am not your anything," She spat back at him. "I don't know what head damage happens to me in the future that would cause such a huge lapse in judgment to make me think of you as a friend…"

"Your very best friend," Damon interjected cutting off her words. "You told me once that I was at the top of the totem pole with Caroline in second and Elena third," This made Elena instantly cast disbelieving and hurt eyes to her friend. "It didn't happen overnight, and I admit I did a lot of shitty un-best-friend-like things, but you never once gave up on me. Not once. And I never got the chance to tell you or show you just how much I appreciated your friendship and loyalty to me, Bonnie. Now, I have a second chance and I won't blow it this time. And it doesn't matter that you don't trust me now, that you dislike what I am and how I've behaved thus far. It doesn't even matter if you make it your life's mission to hate me forever, just to spite me. I'll still love you, you'll still be 'my' very best friend, and I will always be there for you whether you want me to or not," Bonnie stood silently staring at him in slight awe. She had to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat at his words of love and devotion towards her. Though she doubted she'd ever admit it out loud, what he had said made her feel safe and terrified her all at once.

"But I thought 'we' were married," Elena said as her brows furrowed in confusion.

"We were for 40 relatively happy years," He confirmed.

"Well, the way you sound it's as if you wished you had married to Bonnie."

"You're right, sometimes I wished I had married Bonnie," He confirmed calmly as he stared directly back at Elena. He had heard the gasp of surprise fall from Bonnie's mouth but found that he was just as cowardly now as he was then at her ever learning that truth. But At least now he had said it to them both, which had been something he never had the courage to confess before. "I loved you, Elena. I always loved you even when I wasn't in love with you anymore. We built a wonderful life together and even raised a daughter together," Her eyes widened at hearing they had a daughter.

"Wait, we're going to have a daughter, but how?"

"No, we raised a daughter together, past tense," He corrected. "That's not going to happen now. But you can still go on to have a litter of children if you want to, and I hope you do. You were an amazing mother. It just won't be with me."

"But…"

"No, we have already lived that life," He continued cutting off her words while he shook his head. "It's done and there's no reason to try to do it again. Besides, at this point in our relationship, you are falling for my brother and you don't like me at all. And I don't plan to obsess, stalk, and impose myself upon you as I did before. You're free to fully explore things with Stefan, but it will save you a lot of heartache and headaches if you find yourself a nice human guy to settle down with."

"Right," Elena mumbled out as she bowed her head a bit and averted her eyes from his. It was obvious to both Damon and Bonnie that Elena's feelings were hurt. "Excuse me, I need to use the restroom," She announced and moved to the exit. Bonnie waited until her friend had disappeared before she moved her hard eyes to Damon.

"That was harsh," She hissed at him in a lowered voice. "How can you be so cold towards her and so easy to dismiss that life you shared with her. You two had a daughter, what about her? Doesn't she deserve a future?"

"She wasn't my biological daughter, Bonnie," Damon said with a sad sigh. She could see that this was something that pained him. "I loved her dearly and I never treated her as anything other than my flesh and blood."

"Right, sorry, you're a vampire so of course, she wouldn't be yours biologically," She stated with a nod.

"No, I was human and Elena told me she was mine," He continued and Bonnies eyes enlarged at this. "In that other future things happened, things that I can safely say will not happen this time if I can help it. But I end up becoming human again as does Elena and we live a normal 'human' existence. But one day she will start an affair with one of the doctors she works with and she will get pregnant by him. She'll lie and tell me it's mine but I will find out when our daughter is 5 years old and breaks her arm, that she's not actually mine. I do some digging and that's when I learn of Elena's infidelity. I also discover when I confront the guy that he knew from the start that our daughter was really his, Elena had told him the truth when she found out she was pregnant. But he and Elena had decided it was best to pass her off as mine. He told me that as he had told Elena he didn't want to marry her or have any kids. So, she settled and stayed with me."

"My God, I'm sorry, Damon," Bonnie spoke gently to him, genuinely sympathetic to his plight and disturbed to learn of her friend's conniving behavior.

"Don't be, I wasn't always available when Elena needed me to be," He said dismissively. "I got involved in some charity work that I found very fulfilling and which took me away from home a lot."

"That's no excuse for Elena to cheat and then knowingly pass another man's child off as yours. That's despicable actually," She shook her head as she said this. "You never told her you knew the truth, did you?"

"No, what would have been the point? It had already been years and in that time, from the time our daughter was born she had sparked a renewed love between Elena and I. We grew close again. I handed over the work of the charity to someone else and I stayed home more. I started loving my life again."

"Because of your daughter."

"Yes, she was amazing and she was my everything. She was also your goddaughter and you loved her and spoiled her rotten. In fact, you often gave me a lot of competition in the whole spoiling department," He added with a smile which Bonnie returned.

"Well, you could still have a happy life and a daughter…"

"Yes, I could and really hope I will," Damon interjected. "But it won't be with Elena," He said and the way he stared at Bonnie made her shiver a bit. His eyes alone told her that she was going to play some part in a future with Damon whether she wanted it or not. Her mouth became suddenly dry as she tried to muster up words to reply, and was saved as Elena reentered the room.

"What did I miss?" Elena asked as she looked between Damon and Bonnie, who stood on opposite sides of the room silently staring at each other.

***

Continue Reading Here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13488758/2/Amends

[staticscreenwriting]

12 Days of Christmas - [Day 4]

A/N: Day number 4 for the Christmas coundown with @mattysheelies. This one’s almost 6k words. I loved writing this and I hope you like it too. It’s cheesy and cutesy and maybe cliché but it’s Christmas so idgaf. ENJOY ♥

Prompt: Snowed in together.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

“I felt so lonesome, all of a sudden. I almost wished I was dead.”

It happens, every once in a while, that you read a sentence in a book that you’ve read a hundred, maybe a million times before and it suddenly hits you like a punch straight to your gut. Because it’s different now. The book has stayed the same all through the seasons but you realize, you’re a whole new person who’s been through a whole new set of trials and tribulations. And all of a sudden you understand. 

I slump back into the cold, sticky plastic of the bright blue seat and clutch my beat up copy of Catcher in the Rye closer to me. I face the huge windows, looking out into the black of the night and the airplanes, firmly rooted on the ground. There’s a heavy downfall of snow and no sign of it stopping anytime soon. 

Maybe, I realize, this is my reckoning. Isn’t this what I’ve been wishing for ? A white Christmas like the one from the songs and the movies ?

Well merry fucking Christmas, (Y/N).

Every snowflake is a sick reminder of what could have been. Of what isn’t. 

I let my eyes travel around the area. Rows and rows of blue plastic seats. There’s not a lot of people waiting around here. I assume most people have flown home a few days ago to make it in time for Christmas and the few that weren’t smart enough to do that, have resorted to some bar or a restaurant or something. 

In theory, I could do that too. The thing is, spending Christmas eve by myself in an airport restaurant, would just seal the deal for this being the most depressing and downright sad Christmas of my whole life. 

So I stay seated and lose myself in Holden Caulfield's delightful pretentiousness. 

They’re playing Christmas music from a nearby speaker. I wonder if they want to taunt me. Me and everyone else stuck in a fucking snowstorm on Christmas Eve in god damn Indianapolis. They even have a tree set up and where it should make people happy, it only makes me even more sad. I wanna be home with my family, decorating my own tree with all the weird and quirky ornaments we’ve collected over the years. They all come with their own stories and it fills my heart with bittersweet nostalgia.

I’ve never known what being homesick feels like until tonight.

Again my eyes move along the rows of plastic seats. There’s a man in a sharp suit a few rows down. He’s got neatly combed hair and a red tie and shiny shoes and a face that says “ My name is Michael and I don’t allow anyone to call me by a nickname and I have an important job and I drive an expensive car and I probably fuck my secretary. “ 

It’s not a face you particularly want to look at. Except maybe if you’re said secretary. 

A family of 3 sits by the end of the row. They seem — at peace. And for a moment I wish I could be them. I guess it’s different being stuck if you’re stuck with the people you love. 

It makes me bitter to think about it so I avert my eyes and let them travel down the other side of rows. Which turns out to be no better for my mental state because there’s a couple there and they do not seem to care that an airport terminal is not the ideal place for some serious tongue action.

Across from them sits a guy, he’s got a mean mullet. Strands and strands of golden curls. He’s wearing a leather jacket and big black boots and there’s a deep scowl permanently edged onto his face. If he’s aiming for the whole bad boy vibe, he’s really nailing it. 

I can see him shaking his head, as he too notices the couple getting awfully touchy, and I can’t suppress a laugh.

He notices and he looks at me and even across two whole rows of plastic seats I can see just how gorgeously blue his eyes are. 

He doesn’t laugh or smirk or does anything to give me any indication of his feelings. Maybe I’m grateful for it. Maybe I wish he would. It would be quite nice to make a connection with someone right now. Just to make being alone feel a little less lonely.

“ the snow's comin' down

(Christmas) I'm watchin' it fall

(Christmas) lots of people around

(Christmas) baby, please come home”

It’s quite ironic, really,that they would chose this damn song. Of all the Christmas songs in all of the world. 

Mullet boy seems to be a kindred spirit in this regard, I can see him sigh and murmur a “for fucks sake” into to collar of his jacket, as he sinks deeper into the chair.

“They’re singing deck the halls, but it’s not like Christmas at all. “ 

Yeah it really fucking isn’t. 

A smacking of lips catches my attention and I focus back on the couple just to witness the guy’s hand travel straight under the sweater of his girlfriend. It’s a sight I don’t particularly want to see. 

A sight that apparently makes my face screw up in aversion. And as it does, old blue eyes looks back at me and this time, I see a smirk. It vanishes as quickly as it appeared but I know for a fact that it was there. Maybe I don’t have to be all that lonely after all.

I close the bruised and battered orange book that, at this point, is hardly orange anymore, and place it in my backpack. If my life was a John Hughes movie or maybe any other romantic comedy, I’d get off my seat and walk over. There’d be some cheesy some playing in the background, maybe by the Smiths. I would throw him a smile and he’d look at me, an angel’s choir singing wonderous melodies. And tonight would change both our lives forever.

Alas my life is not a movie that Morrissey wrote any songs about. I am a coward and my heart already lies in several little pieces at my feet. So I don’t walk over just like that with no idea what to say, no incentive.

Instead I grab my backpack and walk past him, down a long corridor and end up at a vending machine that sells both, coffee and soup and I secretly pray that they don't come from the same jet. 

The last coffee I had, I think as the warm liquid fills the paper cup, I bought at the little cart by Kelvin’s dorm room. It was a good coffee, had Hazelnut sirup in it. I remember the warmth of it in my hand. I remember the taste on my tongue. I vividly remember the sound of the cup hitting the floor and the stains on my pants and the feeling of my heart as it broke in two.

I don’t want to remember that though, so I will myself to ignore it. To push the thoughts away. I fill the second cup, grab it, put lids on them and then carry them back towards the row of seats.

Mullet boy doesn’t as much as glance at me as I drop down in the seat next to him. Only shows me that he notices me as I hold one of the coffee cups out to him.

“ Sorry it’s not booze. I know that would make looking at these two a little more entertaining. “ 

For a second he just looks at me in confusion, contemplates whether or not to trust me. In the end he takes the drink so I take that for a good sign.

“ Thanks. “ 

His voice is deep and raspy and I really really like the way it sounds. 

“ I wonder if they even realize there’s other people around “ I say, watching the dude’s hand travel down the girls back, as they dreamily blink at each other like the main characters on a romance novel. Maybe those two get the romance and the the Smith song in the background. Maybe I’m just a sad side character in their story.

Mullet boy scoffs, takes a sip of coffee then speaks up. “ Don’t even think they’d notice if we joined in “.

He smirks at that. There’s an absolute underappreciation for people who laugh at their own jokes. I think it’s charming, endearing even. If you can’t laugh at your own joke, how do you expect anyone else to do it.

“ Least they’re not alone on Christmas fucking eve “ 

I don’t know why I say it. I don’t necessarily want to share my sob story. Sometimes my words just move faster than my head does.

“ Christmas is overrated anyway “ blue eyes says and shrugs his shoulders in a way that’s supposed to look casual. Only you can’t say shit like “Christmas is overrated” and be casual about it. There’s always more to a statement like that.

“ You think ? “ 

“ I know. “

“ How come ? “ 

He turns to face me and raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow. It’s like he’s straight from the cover of one of my mom’s romance novels. I think it’s quite unfair that he gets to look like this on a day like today and I — I look just the way I feel. Sad. Exhausted. 

“ It’s none of your business. “ 

“ Oh geez, and here I was thinking we were bonding over our shared distaste for PDA. Guess not. “ 

“ You guessed right. “ 

For a moment, we fall into silence as another song plays over the stereo that has entirely too many obnoxious jingle bells in the backing track. For a moment I feel very lonely again.

It’s then, that the universe seems to have pity on me. It sends me a sign. A gift. A little Christmas miracle if you will.

That comes in the form of the couple getting more touchy, more — obnoxious. So obnoxious that the girl leans back, presumably to lay on the seats, only that’s not what happens. It seems to happen in slow motion when really it’s probably only the blink of an eye. She leans back and back and back and suddenly tumbles off the seats and onto the cold linoleum floor, her mister holding onto her so tightly, he falls right down with her.

My mama always told me not to laugh at other people’s misfortune. But at 18 years of age, I feel it’s time to break some rules my mama set. And this is one of them.

I can’t help it. I laugh. It comes from the deepest corner of my belly and fills my entire being. Then I catch those gorgeous blue eyes looking at my and I notice he’s laughing too. A hearty laugh. I think it’s a good one. No halfway laugh. No bullshitting. It’s a proper laugh and, as we lock eyes, our laughter only seems to increase.

The magic bubble that, until now, has surrounded the couple, seems to have been popped. It’s vanished. For them at least. Because as our laughter rings in unison, a proper harmony of joy, I feel like maybe me and mullet boy have been given a tiny spark of magic ourselves.

“ I’m (Y/N), by the way “ I say, trying to hold in more chuckles.

“ Billy ” 

“ No no, you got it all wrong. His name is Michael and he’s on a business trip that he tells his wife he couldn’t postpone but actually he just wanted to get away from his family for the holidays. “ 

“ Michael ? nah. This dude’s not a Michael. “ 

“ So what’s his name then, Billy ? “ 

He thinks for a moment, face scrunched up in a way that is absolutely adorable. It makes him look way younger than he probably is. Very boy-ish. Very cute.

“ Edward “

“ Edward ? “ 

“ Yes. Look at him, he looks so boring. And can you think of a more boring name than fucking Edward ? “ 

I have to admit, he has a point. So I shrug and nod. “ You have a point. “ 

The little family from earlier, passes us and, as the mom glances towards us, her eye linger on Billy just a moment too long for it to be accidental. And he notices, the cocky bastard. He notices and revels in it, letting the corner of his lips lift up in a teasing smirk.

“ What the fuck was that ? “ I asked, flattened by the sheer audacity for both of them.

“ I got that effect on women of all ages. “ 

“ Wow, your ego is really tiny, huh. “ 

When he looks at me, grin widening and eye filling with mischief, I know I just said the wrong thing. I set myself up with this one, I admit that.

“ That’s the only thing tiny about me. “ 

“ Aaaand that’s my cue to leave. “ I pull myself halfway out of my seat when his arm shoots out and his hand grabs onto mine. The mischief in his eyes in gone, completely replaced by a pure and unfiltered honesty.

“ Stay. Please. “ 

I sink back down and we fall into a silence. He knows that I saw it in his eyes, the fear of being left alone and I know that he knows and so we’re stuck in this weird limbo of whether to ignore it or spill our sorrows to one another. And maybe it’s because today is Christmas and on Christmas you tell the truth, even if it to a stranger at an airport, but he suddenly breaks the silence and starts talking.

“ I don’t wanna be alone. “ 

“ Yeah me neither. “ 

“ I uh — I was supposed to be in California, to visit my mom over Christmas. I haven’t seen her in — in years. This was supposed to be our first Christmas together since I was 8. I called her earlier, from the payphone. I thought she might be devastated. She’s not. I don’t think she cares very much if I’m there or not. I’m still debating whether or not I wanna get on the plane if it ever goes. “ 

“ I came to visit my boyfriend for Christmas. Surprise him, you know. He’s going to college here in Indiana. We’re both from California and we haven’t seen each other since the summer. I thought It was the ultimate proof of my love to him. Well — turns out he’s been fucking his way around campus while I’ve been busy making plans on how to rearrange my life and all my dreams, to come study with him in Indiana after I graduate High School. “

Another silence fills our hearts but this one isn’t thick with anticipation and tension. It’s one that settles deep in our bones as we realize, that sometimes there’s comfort in shared misery. 

“ Merry fucking Christmas to us. “ Billy murmures.

“ Do you wanna go see if we can get a drink at the bar ? “

“ That’s the best idea I’ve heard in a while. “ 

“ I can not believe your fake ID says you’re name’s Ricky Hardman. “ 

“ If you’re mocking me I can just drink this myself, you know. “ 

“ Oh come on. It’s just — that sounds like such a porn name. “ 

“ So what. “ 

I have to snort at his complete lack of self reflection. He knows I’m right but he’s so stubborn. Again I find myself thinking it’s endearing rather than annoying.

To come back to a statement I made earlier, I also think we don’t appreciate the people enough, that make us snort-laugh. Is it a bit embarrassing and cringy? Sure but it’s a laugh either way and I don’t think we should ever take that for granted.

“ Put the cups down so I can spice it up a little bit “ Billy instructs me and I do as he says. This is probably our 4th refill of coffee for the night, my mom would have a go at me for all the caffeine but whatever.

Billy opens the bottle of booze he just purchased at the airport store and pour us both a decent amount into our coffees. Might as well have our own little Christmas celebration if we’re stuck here with nothing else to do.

Cups clutched in our hands we roam around the airport, cheeks warming up from the alcohol. I feel more at peace now and yet my heart is ever as heavy with the longing to be home. 

A sign directs us towards the visitors terrace where families usually gather to watch the planes take off and land. It’s deserted now but that’s not really a surprise. It’s cold, it’s snowing and there’s no flights going anyway. It’s just a dark, snowy night and a lonely runway illuminated by small lights that, if you believe hard enough, almost look like fairy lights in the distance.

“ I know it looks pretty, “ I say as I lean against the banister of the terrace “ but I really don’t find snow all that great.” 

“ I fucking sucks, “ Billy replies. “ It’s cold and wet and turns into gray slosh in the matter of a few minutes. “ 

“ I always dreamed of a white Christmas, now I can’t wait to never see snow again. “ 

“ Me too. I hate it. Snow. Indiana. At least you get to stay in California once you make it there. I have to wait until graduation to finally move back home. “ 

I don’t want to pry, I really don’t but there’s something about him that intrigues me. Everything he says and does in scrowded in some kind of mystery. Some hidden meaning in all of it. 

The way he looks and the way his words hold a certain softness to them, is a whole enigma in itself.

“ You wanna come back to Cali ? “ 

“ Fuck yes. I can’t stay here longer than I need to. I miss the sun and the beach and — my home. “ 

“ Oh god yes, the beach. “ 

“ See, and you wanted to give up on all of that for a guy called Kelvin. “ 

“ I — he’s nice.” 

“ Oh I’m sure he is. And secure and smart. “ 

“ He is. We’ve been together since my sophomore year in Highschool. He was my first — everything. He studies business and is gonna take over his dad’s company one day. “ 

Billy blows a raspberry before turning to me with his perfect eyebrow raised in mockery. 

“ That is so dull. “

“ It’s not “ 

 “ But it is ! Tell me honestly, do you really love this guy or is it just — comfortable. Being with him ? “ 

And once again, something that I’ve considered so many times in my life, suddenly affects me in a completely different way than I am used to. I understand all of a sudden. 

I get it.

“ I mean, maybe you have a point. What makes you the relationship expert though ? “ 

“ Nothing. I’m not saying I am. But I know I never plan on spending my whole life with someone because I am comfortable with them. It’s your goddamn life, you should live it for yourself. “ 

It hits me light a freight train. Straight in the heart. He’s right. Whether I want to admit it or not, Billy is right. I don’t let him know that though, it’s hard enough admitting it to myself. I think he knows anyway, by the way I look at him. By the way he looks at me. 

“ Have you decided whether or not you wanna get on the flight ? “ I ask. It’s still not my place to ask those questions but it feels like something has shifted between us. Like tonight is ours entirely. A night of truths. Of heart opened and unguarded.

“ The alternative is spending Christmas with my dad and his wife and my stepsister. “ 

“ Sounds alright to me. “ 

“ Yeah, only my dad is the biggest asshole on the planet. He’s not a nice guy. His wife is a fucking nutcase, obeying his every will. She has the backbone of a jellyfish. And Max — Max hates me. That one’s my fault though. “ 

I want to hug him. It’s a strong urge that overcomes me. A sudden rush. His words are soft and sad and frustrated and I can see in his eyes just how much this hurts him. And god, it’s Christmas Eve. I just want to make him feel a little less alone.

So I do. I hug him, rest my head on his shoulder and together we look at the snow falling around us, covering the world in a thick white frosty blanket. 

“ I’m sorry about that. Just so you know though, I’m glad we’re stuck here together. “ 

“ Well yeah, I’m hot and fun and I have great hair. “ 

“ Oh there we go again with the ego. “ I laugh. He makes me me laugh. Like genuinely laugh. I can’t remember the last time I felt like this around Kelvin.

“ What’s that book you’ve been reading. “ Billy asks as the laughter settles down again.

“ Catcher in the Rye. It’s one of my favorites. “ 

“ Uh-huh. What’s it about ?” 

“ This boy, Holden. He gets kicked out of prep school and runs of to New York City and yeah it basically chronicles his days in NYC. It’s about loss of innocence and isolation. “ 

“ Sounds absolutely — “ 

“ Wonderful “ 

“ Boring. “ 

Here’s the thing about interests and hobbies. They’re a very personal, very individual experience. They’re yours. And yes, maybe it’s nice to share your passions with another person who feels the same. But let’s be honest: It doesn’t really matter. I am not hurt by Billy’s disinterest. Not even by his mocking scoff. Because it in no way lessens my love for the book. The story it tells and the nostalgia it brings me.

It also doesn’t lessen the affection growing inside me, towards Billy. An affection that both scares and excites me at the same time. By all means, it is delusional to fall for a stranger at an airport, who doesn’t even live in the same state as me. Someone I’ve only spent a few hours with.

Then again, life is never a straight path. I used to think it was but after tonight, maybe I can let myself take some backroads. Take a road less traveled. See where it leads me and if it brings me to a dead end, turn around and try again.

Maybe sometimes it needs a boy with a leather jacket and gorgeous blue eyes, to make you realize that life can be so much more if you just let yourself live it.

“ Okay sure. What are your interests then ? I’m sure there’s something you like doing, something you care about. “ 

“ My car. “ 

“ That’s such a guy answer. “ 

“ Pff, whatever. “ 

“ What else ? “ 

He takes a moment to answer. Contemplates. Mulls his answer over in his head. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes I haven’t seen since he talked about his mom earlier tonight.

“ Music. “ 

“ Music ?” 

“ I really care about music. Not — not playing it but just music in itself. You can’t tell anyone this, okay ? It’s a bit ridiculous and It’s not really realistic, but I would love to work at a record label. Or maybe have my own music venue. To help discover bands and find new, awesome music. Whenever I’m sad or angry or frustrated, or even happy, there’s a specific songs for any emotion, any situation. I want everyone to be able to have that in their life. “ 

There’s something undeniably sexy about someone being passionate about something. He only just started but I could honestly listen to Billy talk about music for hours and hours and hours.

“ So who’s your favorite band then ? “ 

“ I’ll sound pretentious as fuck but my favorites are probably some local bands from my hometown in California. “ 

“ Maybe when you’re back home after graduation, you can take me to a gig. Show me some of those bands. “

My heart beats faster as I realize this is the first time either of us has mentioned there being a future. More than just one magical night at the airport. 

It slipped out but I’m glad it did. The idea of more nights together, more time spent listening to him talk about his music. Experiencing that music with him. It doesn’t scare me. In fact, it excites me so much.

“ Yeah. Sounds like a plan. “ 

“ A good plan. “

“ A great plan. “ 

I don’t know if he notices that I notice, but his hand drops to the small of my back, so gently it’s but a whisper of a touch. It warms me up more than our boozy coffee ever managed to.

Airports have a weird energy. A specific mood that transcends through every corner in every room. It’s loaded with the arrival of change. It might be good and exciting or it might be sad. But something is about to change and you can feel it sizzling in the air.

As I stand next to Billy in the softly falling snow, I know that the girl that arrived at the airport earlier today, heartbroken and without purpose, is not the same girl that’s gonna get on that flight home. Something has changed. I think I like this new girl better.

“ They’re singing deck the halls … “ 

“ Oh Jesus, what is it with this fucking song ? “ 

“ What, you don’t like it ? “ 

“ Do you ? “ 

“ Totally “ 

I don’t know what hits me. Maybe it’s the fact that the future is so awfully unknown. I don’t know if after tonight I will ever see Billy again. Or maybe because it’s Christmas. 

Or maybe because I’m a little drunk and half in love.

But I start to dance and sing along. With the snow falling down on me. Snowflakes dropping onto my hair and melting, leaving it wet and streaky. But it doesn’t matter right then. All that matter is the music and the night and him and I.

“ Come dance with me. “ 

“ I don’t dance. “ 

“ It’s Christmas Eve, Billy. It’s my Christmas wish. Come on. There’s no one around. “ 

Here’s some piece of advice from me to you: If you’ve never had a guy in a leather jacket and biker boots twirl you around while the snow is falling and Christmas songs play over the stereo, then you’re missing out.

Billy’s hand is warm, his smile is gentle. It’s all so vastly different from the way I felt when touching Kelvin. Everything that comes with Billy is an enigma, a surprise. Nothing is certain and yet I am sure that I’ve never felt more alive than I do right now.

The last chord of the song echoes through the night as Billy pulls me close to him, I can see his breath in the cold, accumulating in little clouds. I can feel his skin in mine. 

“ You’re gonna get on that flight, Billy Hargrove. “ I say, my voice but a sigh. A whisper

“ I’m gonna get on the flight. I’m gonna graduate and then come back to California. Permanently this time. I’ll find you and take you to all the underground clubs and show you all my favorite bands. And I’ll even listen to you talk about your books. “ 

“ Even if you think they’re boring. “ 

“ Uh-huh. “ 

“ Hey Billy. “ 

“ Hmm ? “

“ I think I wanna write a book. I think that’s what I want to do with my life. “ 

He’s so close now, our noses touching, our breaths touching, our lips touching. Warm and soft and gentle.

“ Write about us, so you don’t forget me. “ 

I kiss him then. Or he kisses me. I don’t know for sure but really what does it matter. In the grand scheme of things it’s irrelevant who initiated the kiss. It matters that it happened. And by god I will never be able to forget this kiss or the boy that gave it to me. 

“ Dear passengers, we are delighted to announce that the runway has been cleared. The sky is blue and free of any downfall. Flights will resume shortly. More information about departure times will be available shortly. Feel free to turn to our staff for guidance or additional information. 

“ Billy. Hey, Billy. “ I say, and shake him awake. He looks so peaceful and boyish while sleeping, it breaks my heart a little to interrupt his sleep. 

“ Hmm.. ? “ 

“ I think our flights are gonna go soon. Snow’s stopped. “ 

“ Oh. “

I don’t have to ask to know what he’s feeling. What he wants to say. “ Oh. this is it for us. “ 

We gather our stuff, stretch our limbs and get off the uncomfortable plastic seats. The board on the wall shows us that our flights go in just two hours. His to San Diego, mine to LA. 

Our time is numbered and we finally have an expiration date. My heart breaks once again though this time I try to hold onto the fact that we both want a future of whatever it is we’re sharing. Even if it’s just a friendship, I want Billy Hargrove in my life.

“ Hey uh — “ Billy speaks up and takes my hand in his “ let’s make a deal. “ 

“ What deal ? “ 

“ To see each other again. Maybe — maybe next Christmas Eve. “ 

“ Where ? “ 

“ I don’t know. Let me — let me come to you. “

“ Santa Monica pier. “ 

“ Okay sure. “ 

“ Cool. “ 

“ Cool. “ 

He kisses me again and this one too, will stay with me forever. In my heart and in my head.

“ Here I’ll give you my phone number. Call me if anything changes. If my dad answers just ignore his stupid comments “ He says, fumbles around in his backpack and come up with a pen and — a cassette tape ?!

“ Something to remember me by “ he points out as he scribbles his number onto the little slip of paper. “ Some of my favorite songs on there. “ 

“ If you give me something, let me give you something too. “ I say and pull out my old worn out copy of Catcher in the Rye, scribble a message on the first page, then hand it to him.

“ There’s a bunch of notes in the margins. I never got to share them with anyone, I’ll gladly share them with you. “ 

Then I kiss him. Again and again and again, until it’s all I can think about and all I can feel.

“ Flight 207 to LAX boarding now. “ 

And that is it for us, at least for now. The magic of last night is broken. It’s Christmas Eve gone, replaced by Christmas day. No snowstorm. No magic. Just the brutal truth that real life awaits.

So we part. With more kisses and a promise.

“ Until next Christmas. “ 

The plane is already high up in the air when Billy Hargrove pulls the book from his pocket. It’s old and worn out and what looks like it used to be orange once upon a time is now a washed out beige.

He opens it up to the first page and can’t suppress a smile. A real one. Not one of those he fakes for his dad and susann. A real smile that reaches his eyes. One he feels in his heart.

“ Meet me at the Merry-Go-Round! “ 

His heart soars as he thinks about next year. A future that suddenly looks much brighter than ever before. 

There’s a lot of notes and scribbles and highlighted sentences. He skims through it until one passage catches his attention.

“ Make sure you marry someone who laughs at the same things you do. “ 

And so he thinks back to the overly touchy couple and their magnificent tumble from the plastic seats. And he remembers her laugh and his ringing up in unison.

He understands. That Holden guy has a point. Maybe it’s worth reading the book after all.

A year later.

I’m rushing through the crowd of people, a vibrant clementine sky the backdrop for my misery. God, why can I never be on time.

My heart hammers in my chest. Please don’t leave. Please don’t leave.

His eyes meet mine across the way as he leans against the banister by the Merry-Go-Round and I feel like I am back at the airport. The magic is back.

“ Sorry I am late. I am so so sorry.  “  I say and can’t help myself but pull him into a kiss. One filled with passion and longing and a promise kept.

“ Ah If a girl looks swell when she meets you, who gives a damn if she’s late. “ He replies.

“ You read the book. “ 

“ I read the book and all your notes. “ 

“ That’s good, I uh — have something else for you to read. “ 

It’s a bundle of papers, no cover art or fancy pictures on the front page. All it says in big bold letters is “ A white Christmas - a story of girl meets boy. “ I hand it to Billy and he looks at me in confusion.

“What’s that ? “ 

“ That’s the first draft of my book. “ 

“ You wrote it! “ 

“ You believed I could so I did. “ 

“ What’s it about ? “

“ Oh you know, just a girl and a boy and a magical night at the airport. Lots of snow. Lots of kissing. Little bit of magic. “ 

“ Can’t wait to read it. So, you wanna go see a band ? “ 

“ They any good ? “ 

“ Pretty fucking good!” 

Darlene Love’s voice echoes through the stereo and for the first time I have to disagree. This feels like Christmas more than any moment before ever did.

And my baby is finally home.

 Taglist; [I copied this from @mattysheelies​ and just added a few new ones, if you wanna be added or deleted from the taglist please let me know]

@sebastiansloserclub ; @killer-queen-xo ; @william-hargroves ; @billysgodcomplex ; @daisyxbuckley ; @allabouthargrove ; @mcrmarvelloki ; @charmed-asylum ; @1998--js ; @naiomiwinchester​ ; @hargrovesprincess​ ; @mystrangerfics​ ; @teafrompari​ ; @staybruuutal​ ; @colourado​ ; @higher-further-faster-bb​ ; @ayybtch​ ; @carlaangel86​ ; @baebee35​

[vfdbaudelairefile13]

The Unforgotten Middle Child's Birthday:

Klaus Baudelaire sat near the graves of an old friend and old enemy. He sat there in silence pondering to himself. Finally, he looked only towards Kit Snicket’s grave and began to speak. “You know...it’s my birthday today,” he said aloud. He felt silly talking to Kit’s grave because it felt like he was talking to himself but he felt like he needed someone to talk to. Strangely enough, he felt like he couldn’t talk to his elder sister, Violet or his younger sister, Sunny about what was bugging him. Because it was his sisters who were bugging him. “It’s my birthday today…” he repeated sadly. “My fourteenth birthday...and it seems like they both forgot...again.”

Now, Klaus Baudelaire understood why his sisters both forgot his birthday last year. They were busy trying to rescue their friends, Duncan and Isadora Quagmire and they were tasked with breaking Kit’s brother, Jacques Snicket, out of jail in the Village of Fowl Devotees. He didn’t blame his sisters for forgetting his thirteenth birthday, he couldn’t even if he wanted to because he also forgot his birthday last year. But this year, Klaus felt like it was different. They were in a much better place than they had been in a while. It was only the three Baudelaires and Kit’s daughter, Beatrice II. It was just them. Their lives had settled down. It’s not an unreasonable request to have that his sisters remember his goddamn birthday. 

He felt like most middle children. Unwanted and ignored. As he sat staring mournfully at Kit’s grave, he thought back to all the Baudelaires’ trials and tribulations, wondering what he had done to help them get out of any of it. It was mainly Violet and in some cases, like with the elevator shaft, it was Sunny. He frowned. He didn’t want to think that his sisters had forgotten his birthday again this year because he was the useless member of the Baudelaire clan but Klaus was at a low point this morning. He woke up to no “happy birthday”s, he didn’t wake up to nicely fashioned homemade gifts, not even a mention of a special meal today. Both his sisters went about their days as if there was nothing special about it.

“Maybe I’m overreacting…” he said aloud to Kit’s grave. “Maybe my birthday doesn’t matter,” 

As he sat there in silence, he could have sworn he could hear laughter. Villainous laughter. Klaus knew it was all in his head as he turned his head to glare at the grave next to Kit’s. “No one’s talking to you!” Klaus yelled at Olaf’s grave. “It’s your fucking fault all three of us forgot last year! You fucking rat bastard! I wish that my sisters and I would’ve been the ones to end your pitiful excuse for a life! Not that fucking old bastard with the ridiculous beard!” Klaus rubbed his eyes as he felt tears of anger slowly falling down his face. 

His sisters wouldn’t forget his birthday...would they? 

__________________________________________________________________

Violet Baudelaire had just successfully put Beatrice II down for a nap which was not an easy feature. She sighed as she rubbed her face. She was honestly glad that she had both of her younger siblings to help her. Klaus was currently outside doing his daily chores, taking care of the sheep, doing the laundry, and finding coconuts for Sunny to cook with. Speaking of Sunny, she was in the kitchen at the moment. Violet assumed she was making lunch. 

Sunny was mainly in charge of the cooking seeing as Violet had a Spencer-Shay effect whenever she cooked, this meant that whatever she was preparing would magically burn or be mysteriously set ablaze. Her siblings joked that she’d be able to set cereal on fire. Klaus didn’t always burn the meals that he cooked, he had the opposite problem, he always under-cooked his meals and the very few that he made right were bland and distasteful. Both older Baudelaires realized real quick to leave all culinary duties to Sunny. Sunny didn’t mind, though. It was never a chore or a job to her, she liked it. It was her skill. 

So it was never odd when Sunny would prefer to spend most of her day in the kitchen, so to Violet, nothing seemed out of the ordinary until she heard a loud metal clank! And then she heard a loud frustrated growl coming from the kitchen.

“Fuck!” Sunny yelled frustrated.

“Sunny?” Violet called out, checking on her youngest sibling. 

“No!” Sunny yelled towards her sister, peeking out the kitchen. “Where’s Klaus?” she asks looking around the room. 

“He’s outside, silly,” Violet replied as Bea woke up and began crying. “...and now, Bea’s awake, thanks Sunny.” 

“Sorry not sorry,” Sunny replied blocking Violet out of the kitchen.

“Sunny, we need to have everything ready for tonight,” Violet rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Sunny. What’s the issue?”

“Birthday surprise,” Sunny replied simply. “Don’t say nothing,” 

“What are you trying to do?” Violet asked as she held Bea in her arms entering the kitchen which was a complete and utter disaster.

Violet looked around and saw that the Baudelaire’s entire kitchen was covered in several ingredients that Sunny needed to make homemade bread. Yeast and flour had covered every surface in the kitchen. Violet noticed that there were five loaves of homemade bread. On the floor, there was unchurned butter, milk, and a few cracked eggs. Mixing bowls and other kitchen utensils were scattered all around the kitchen. Sunny was covered in milk, eggs, and flour. Violet looked to her younger sister and the mess in the kitchen.

“Sunny? What happened in here?” Violet asked concerned. “It looks like a tornado hit our kitchen!”  

“Bread pudding,” Sunny explained. “Harder than it looks,”

Violet looked at her baby sister and then at the kitchen once more. She gave Sunny a small smile realizing that Sunny was trying to do the one thing their parents had failed to do on Klaus’ twelfth birthday, which was correctly make bread pudding. The Baudelaire parents had tried and failed to make bread pudding for their son’s birthday. When it failed, they had promised their only son that his next birthday would be extra special.

Although if you know the history of the three Baudelaire orphans you would know that that had not happened. When Klaus turned thirteen, not only did he and both of his sisters forget but because Count Olaf disguised himself as a detective, he was successfully able to convince the entire Village of Fowl Devotees (which had been the Baudelaires’ guardians at the time) that the Baudelaires had murdered Count Olaf. So Klaus was incarcerated in a deluxe jail cell for a large portion of his birthday. And he spent the rest of his thirteenth birthday on the run from the law and missing his friends, Duncan and Isadora Quagmire, deeply. Although he had been relieved they had been rescued.

So Sunny plans to make up for both his twelfth and thirteenth birthday but she was learning what her parents had learned two years prior. Making bread pudding was harder than it looks.

“Is there some way I can help?”

“You can’t cook,” Sunny reminded her.

Violet rolled her eyes. “Thanks, sis.”

“Truth hurts,” Sunny replied sarcastically. “I just need a taste tester and someone to distract him,”

Violet and Sunny smiled deviously as they both looked stared at Beatrice II. She was the definition of the perfect distraction. When she was born, all three Baudelaires took a quick liking to her but Klaus had made the strongest attachment to the young infant. When Beatrice was first born, Klaus was the first one, other than Kit, herself, to hold Beatrice and those first few seconds had created a strong, unbreakable bond. Klaus didn’t see himself as Beatrice’s older brother...he saw himself more as a father figure towards the infant which both his sisters thought was super adorable. Both Baudelaire sisters remembered the days before the fire that orphaned them, where their brother was just a weak, book-obsessed nerd. But sometime during the children’s unfortunate events, he had become more of a protector, taking on the role of the man of the house. They wouldn’t know until they return to civilization and leave the island, but both Sunny and Violet believed that his behavior would show this more since the addition of Beatrice II into their family. So his attachment to her will be his own undoing when it came to keeping Sunny’s birthday surprise a secret.

Just as the two sisters had devised a plan, Klaus made his way inside their island home. Sunny quickly ran into the kitchen as Violet nonchalantly blocked the entrance from Klaus. 

“What are you doing?” Klaus asked confused as he tried to walk passed his older sister.

“Can’t go in there,” Violet replied, placing her hand on his forehead to keep him at bay.

“Why not?” 

“We’ve been...banned,” 

“Banned?” 

Violet nodded.

“Why are we banned from the kitchen? It’s the kitchen...where the food is...which is what I want. So if you’d politely move…” Klaus replied as he tried to move passed his sister again.

“Bro, I’m doing you a favor by standing guard. Sunny still has a sharp set of teeth and she isn’t afraid to use it,”

“She can’t ban us from the kitchen for no reason!” 

“Oh, she has a reason,” 

Sunny poked her head out. “I always have a reason,” she said as she popped her head back in.

“And that reason would be?” 

“I...Well...you see,” Violet began trying to come up with a believable lie. She knew her brother was intelligent but she also knew that he was quite gullible. “It’s kind of embarrassing… I was trying to make…” Violet paused. She nearly said ‘pudding’ and then she nearly said ‘cake’. She was trying to think of a food that didn’t have anything to do with Klaus or birthdays. She thought about it for a good minute and sighed remembering her siblings' favorite insult towards her when it came to her cooking. “...I was making...well it doesn’t really matter what I was trying to make...because...I...I somehow made it explode,” 

“Explode?” Klaus asked incredulously.

“Explode,” Violet said simply.

Sunny popped her head out again. She nodded. “Explode,” she confirmed sneaking Violet a look indicating that Sunny knew she could lie better than that.

Klaus was speechless. “But...how…”

Violet shrugged her shoulders. “Honestly, is it really out of the realms of possibility for me?” she asked her brother.

“Well...no,” he replied. “Most definitely not,” 

Violet took offense to this but decided to let it go. She handed Bea to Klaus. “How about you and your favorite little buddy go spend the day on the beach...outside.” 

“Why?” 

“It’ll be good for you...for both of you!”

Sunny popped her head out again. “Yep...sunshine very good for babies. I would know I was one not too long ago.” She popped her head back inside the kitchen.

Klaus slowly nodded his head as he took the infant in his arms. “They’re both crazy, aren’t they, Bea?” he cooed at the infant, who giggled back at him. “We’re the only sane ones in this family.”

Violet laughed at this. “I wouldn’t describe any Baudelaire as ‘sane’,” she muttered as he chuckled taking Bea outside to the beach. 

“You wanna go see mommy?” Klaus asked Bea once he was outside. Bea nodded. He sighed. He enjoyed visiting Kit’s grave, he liked to take Bea there as much as possible and when he needed someone other than his sisters to talk to, he’d go to Kit’s grave as he did this morning. He just hated the fact that Olaf’s grave laid right there, next to Kit’s. He always wondered why he and Violet didn’t bury him in the darker side of the island where the Baudelaires rarely went. He walked the long way as he info dumped on Bea on the latest book that he had found from the latest storm. 

Once Klaus got to the graves, he sat down on the large rock that sat at a good distance from the two graves. He looked down at the infant. He gave a small smile.  “You didn’t forget my birthday, did you?”

The infant looked up at him and giggled, reaching up for his glasses. 

“I’ll take that as a no,” he replied smiling down at the infant. Taking off his glasses and allowing Bea to play with them under his watchful eye. 

________________________________________________________________

Violet and Sunny began to move fast. They didn’t know how long Klaus would stay outside with Bea. So with each variation of a bread pudding recipe, both Baudelaire sisters tasted each one. Some were sour, some were soggy. When Sunny allowed Violet to put the next batch into the stove, it burnt. Sunny was both surprised by this since that’s all she let Violet do but a small part of her wasn’t surprised. After twelve tries, Sunny looked to Violet. 

“This one has to work,” Sunny replied.

“This would be number thirteen,” Violet muttered.

“Thirteen is unlucky...but so are we,” Sunny began, “So maybe the two ‘unlucky’s will cancel each other out,”

“That’s...that’s not how that works, Sunny,” 

“Yeah huh. It’s like negatives,” 

Violet sighed. “Let’s just cross our fingers,” 

Sunny and Violet watched eagerly at their last attempt at making bread pudding cooked. Both sisters were worried. They hadn’t spent all day making Klaus think his birthday was the furthest from their minds for no reason. They both wanted to surprise him. That’s why Violet had spent the past few weeks constructing an outdoor library for her brother, using as many items as she could from the arboretum to make sure it could withstand storms. Sunny had spent days thinking of what to prepare for her brother and today had finally decided on bread pudding since that was the last birthday meal that her parents had tried to make for Klaus and she remembered how disappointed he was when it didn’t turn out just right.

Finally, as the dish finished baking. Both sisters glanced at each other nervously as they each took a small bite. Both Baudelaire girls smiled happily when they realized that Sunny had finally done it. She had finally made the bread pudding perfectly. She smiled down at her dish and smiled up at her older sister. “Thanks, Vi,”

“For what?” Violet asked laughing. “I didn’t do much,” 

“Moral support,” Sunny replied.

Both Baudelaire sisters hurriedly finished cleaning the mess that had occurred earlier that day in the kitchen as they took turns keeping a watchful eye for Klaus. They were not going to let him spoil the surprise that they had been working so hard on creating. After they finished cleaning, both sisters tried to decorate their dining room the best they could for a birthday with what they had. 

____________________________________________________________

Klaus had spent most the afternoon sulking as he revisited Kit’s grave allowing Bea to see her mother and her biological father even if he despised the man. He had to thank him for Bea’s existence. Without Bea in his life, he’d be more lost than he already is. After they spent around a good hour just chatting with Kit, Klaus would translate for Bea since she was beginning to speak in a similar way that his younger sister had. He took Bea to a spot on the island where the water was shallow and he and Bea spent some time swimming and laughing. He was trying to forget all about how his sisters had forgotten his birthday. But he couldn’t let it go. He looked at the smiling, giggling infant in his arms. “You know what,” he said to Bea, “if they forgot my birthday, then I’ll forget their birthdays,” he said triumphantly as Bea simply gave him a confused look. “What? It’s only fair,” he replied when Bea didn’t say anything in reply. 

As the sun was slowly setting, he frowned. “Time to go inside,” he told Bea who looked disappointed. “Time to have a normal meal on this normal day,” 

As he trudged along the beach back to the Baudelaires’ island home, he felt a few tears forming in his eyes. He just couldn’t believe that Violet and Sunny had completely forgotten his birthday again.

He finally reached the door of their home and noticed that it seemed dark inside. He didn’t think too much of it as he opened the door and jumped when he heard two voices yelling. 

“Surprise!” Violet shouted jumping up and down.

“Happy Birthday!” Sunny shouted, also jumping up and down.

Klaus, who reacted to the sudden noises by holding Bea tighter to him in order to protect her, sighed in relief realizing that he and Bea were not in any danger. He looked to his older sister and then to his younger sister, with a big happy smile. As he felt happy tears forming in his eyes. “You guys are fucked up you know that,” Klaus said smiling. 

“Yeah. We take pride in it,” Sunny replied hugging her big brother.

“Wait? Did you really think that we forgot your birthday?” Violet asked in a slightly offended tone.

Klaus turned his head a bit embarrassed. “M-maybe…” 

Violet looked at her younger brother. “We would never forget your birthday…” she began.

“Again,” Sunny pointed out.

“Yes, we would never forget your birthday ever again. Last year was a fluke. It’s never going to be that bad ever again,” Violet explained.

Klaus nodded as he shifted Bea into one arm, picking up his younger sister in the other and motioning to Violet to join the Baudelaire group hug. The middle Baudelaire embraced the three most important people in his life for what felt like an eternity before Violet pulled away.

Sunny hopped down from her brother’s grasp as she grabbed hold of his hand pulling him into the kitchen. “Close your eyes,” Sunny ordered.

“What?” Klaus said.

“No peeking,” Violet replied as Bea stood up as straight as she could and placed her tiny hands on his glasses as Violet slowly steered him into the kitchen.

When his sisters finally allowed him to open his eyes, Klaus felt like he wanted to cry more tears of blissful joy as he looked down at the bread pudding that Sunny had prepared with Violet’s help.

“You…” he began as he stared at the bread pudding. He handed Bea to Violet as he wiped a few happy tears from his face. His heart ached for two reasons, one was that he missed his parents deeply, the other was because he had the audacity to believe that both of his sisters would forget his birthday. He knew why they forgot last year and he felt silly for believing that they would forget his birthday when they weren’t in dire situations. “You…”

Sunny nodded as Klaus knelt down and scooped up his little sister in a big bear hug. Sunny could see that Klaus was crying, but she knew that he was happy crying. “You made bread pudding for my birthday just like they did two years ago,”

“Yep. This time it’s edible though,” Sunny remarked. “Violet helped me,” 

“Well, let’s eat!” Violet suggested as she put Bea in her high chair. 

The Baudelaires enjoyed the rest of the evening eating the bread pudding and telling stories about their past lives with their parents. Violet and Klaus shared several stories that happened before Sunny was born. While Sunny showed off her amazing memory when she told stories that her elder siblings couldn’t believe that she remembered. But with each story, both elder Baudelaires saw that she remembered the details correctly. They shared stories about their happier lives for what seemed like forever. Eventually, when they couldn’t think of any new stories to share, Violet walked Klaus out to where his outdoor library was which made the middle Baudelaire hug his older sister as tightly as he hugged Sunny.

Klaus realized now that his sister’s new his birthday was coming up for a while, they had both prepared surprises for him and even expertly fooled him into thinking that they had actually forgotten. Maybe it was the middle child doubt that caused him to believe this. Maybe it was his insecurity as a whole. Or maybe it was the fact that he was the most gullible of the three Baudelaire orphans. But either way, he spent the rest of the night knowing that he was loved and appreciated. He felt like a damn fool for ever thinking otherwise.

[octaviangrey]

My Top 20 Fanfic Recommendations

Aka what to read to understand me/my tastes or what fanfic I’d bring to a desert island to avoid boredom.

First off this is my personal favorites and most highly recommended list, you may not like some or all of them, that’s fine.

Secondly, I’ve been wanting to make this sort of list for a while - a collection of my favorite fanfics and authors in one place which I can refer back to/up date as time goes by.

This will be mostly Naruto fanfic, since I’ve been in that fandom the longest, though I have included works from other fandoms such as; The Hobbit, Harry Potter, Star Wars, Inuyasha, MCU, American Gods, Girl Genius, Labyrinth, Van Helsing, and Batman The Dark Knight Rises.

Links to fic, and author page, included. I try to mention if I know someone is on tumblr. Let me know if I missed anybody.

Be sure to read the tags, and pay attention to the warnings before reading any of these - you are in control of what you consume in fandom. If you are feeling unsure about a fic and want to ask someone about it before reading, feel free to contact me! I try to check my messages regularly.

Please try to leave a comment/like/kudos if you enjoy the fics, the authors all deserve them. (If you can’t leave comments, that’s fine too - real life be like that sometimes. Don’t stress over it.)

20. To Trammel Some Wild Thing By Anon E. Mouse

This is completely self indulgent and a delight to read. The characterization is good and its plot is so much fun. I’m an unrepentant Dracula fan, in all his forms, and this ones damn entertaining. Incomplete - Anna/Dracula - Van Helsing

19. Nukenin By WhisperingDarkness

This fic, and the works inspired by it, are so much fun to read. Basically a 3 for 1 recommendation (be sure to check the links at the end!) A great Kakashi centric work, their characterization is excellent and the kids are great! Complete - No Pairing - Naruto

18. Fear By Almighty_Hat

I know, I know this isn’t the OT3, but bear with me, this is a really good series, looking at what ifs and giving us All the Jagers. Great slice of life Girl Genius style. Complete with an Incomplete series - Agatha/Jorji - Girl Genius

17. Klepto By DeGlace

This so much fun! A rare pair for sure, but it is so good. The chemistry between these two is amazingly portrayed. This fic is sexy, it’s vicious, it holds no bars and delivers on every promise. Also be sure to check out their fic Marrow, which just missed this list. Complete - Catwoman/Bane - Batman Darknight Rises

16. More Fair Than Snow By Jalen Strix

Oh man, this is such a good series. This author in general is very good, and has several other excellent fics, but this series is my favorite of the lot. Great balance of magic and real world, interesting use of fairy tales and a wonderful romance. Complete - Jareth/Sarah - Labyrinth

15. The Woods Are Deep, My Dear by Azzandra

Baby Agatha! World building! AGATHAS AMAZING GRANDMA! A delight to read, it is so fricking cute, and Grandma here kicks ass. The author also has some other great Au’s so check those out. Incomplete - no pairing - Girl Genius

14. RED KING By VesperChan but also on AO3

This author has so many great fics, but this is my favorite. They are also on tumblr! This fic is so gripping and atmospheric, a real feast for the mind. Can recommend the Obleisk series too. Complete - Sakura/Madara - Naruto

13. Lost and Found By NovusArs

Fem!Bilbo Baggins finds and adopts baby dwarves and the adventures thereof. The fic is cute, the characters are cute, the lore is great and this is so fluffy you guys. So fluffy. Incomplete - Bilbo/Bofur- The Hobbit

12. Lord Charming by forthright

This fic is sooo good. The drama, the lore building, the execution, all perfect. Now I know the chapter numbers look intimidating, but they are written in 100 words chapters, so don’t fear too much, you’ll get through it! Complete - Sesshoumaru/Kagome - Inuyasha

11. The House that Luck Built By TheBlackestFrost

This is so well researched, it’s use of belief and mythology is superb. I had so much fun reading this, but also I cried during some of it too. An amazing fix that convinces you of the romance with one of the parties being dead for most of it. Author on tumblr! Give! Them! A look! Complete - Laura/Sweeney - American Gods.

10. The Company of Trees By theroadkillcafe

This is my favorite Mokuton!Sakura fic ever. It’s amazing, it really captures the trials and tribulations of a young girl who’s life is changed so drastically. The supporting cast is really good too. Incomplete - No Pairing - Naruto

9. Kill Your Heroes by TheLightAtLastAndAlways aka Evil Is A Relative Term

Aaaaaaaaaa this is so good!!! The lore! The character growth! The plot twists! This is a masterpiece of writing, and I adore it. This author is never afraid to give gritty consequences, while keeping it fun and action packed. Incomplete - Itachi/Sakura sort of - Naruto

8. Retrograde Motion by Crunchysunrises

This is a fantastic example of the Time Travel trope, and tackles some really interesting lore and world building. I unreservedly love the part were we see Sakura’s seals from her family. It touched me so much I reread the whole thing 3 times in short order. Incomplete - No pairing - Naruto.

7. Amaryllis By silverfootsteps

This author is on tumblr, go check them out! And also this fantastic AU fic! I fell in love with this world, and the characters in it. A rich setting to sink your teeth into, with masterful twists and turns. Itachi is a very delicate flower and it’s great. Incomplete - Itachi/Sakura - Naruto

6. Sansûkh By determamfidd

This fic is amazing, I was able to get my mother in fanfic with this. I think it’s really well written, it feels very organic with the Tolkien world. I’m gonna get this hand bound in leather once it’s complete and gift it to myself, I want this in hard copy. Bilbo/Thorin - The Hobbit & LotR

5. Meeting Like This by FettsOnTop

And also the rest of the series. This Author is a prolific Boba/Leia writer, and all of it’s good, so give it a go and check them out! This series really defined this ship for me, and is my favorite work by the author so far. Complete - Boba Fett/Leia Organa - Star Wars

4. The Pilgrim Soul By jachap

Holy heck in a hand basket this fic is a feast. You will drown in this, the richness of this world will linger long after the final chapter ends. This is a historical fic, starting in the 1920’s and just keeps going even in the sequel. So much research has been done for this, and you can tell. Be warned you will cry. Has a sequel that’s just as good and being updated. Complete - Darcy/Steve/Bucky - MCU

3. Hermione Granger and the Serpents Renaissance by epsi10n.

This is my absolute favorite Harry Potter fic, it’s incredible. The author is very good at building tension, and then ending their chapters on cliff hangers, so you spend plenty of time on the edge of your seat reading this. Incomplete - Hermione/currently undecided. - Harry Potter

2. The Eyes Have It By Shana the Short

Written for FaNoWriMo. I adore this, and it’s incomplete sequel. It’s. So. Good. I can not recommend this enough - it’s fun, it explores interesting lore on what it would be like to develop a brand new Kekkei Genkai, and it has great character development for those who would usually go over looked. Complete - Sakura/Chojuro in the sequel. - Naruto

1. Five Kingdoms for the Dead by Evil Is A Relative Term

This is it, this right here is my favorite fanfic of all time. I LOVE this. I love the characterization, the plot, and is one favorite depiction of Madara Uchiha in fiction. Of all time. This author has already appeared on this list before, and I cannot recommend enough going out and checking out their work. Complete - Neji/Sakura - Naruto

This is not the be all, end all of good fic I’ve read, let alone all the good fic that exists, and I am very tempted to just add a list of authors I like too, but that would be a very ambitious list. Seriously, the number of stories I had to put aside because I love them but they are not quite on the list.... I have 1760 subsripctions just on AO3 alone. I couldn’t fit them all on here.

P. S. If you wish to reblog with any fic recs of your own, please do so! I’m always looking for new reading material!

[freddy-hughes]

Trials and  Tribulations: Death and Decay

A pair of wings flew overhead. Freddy followed. It ducked beneath the branches, above the bushes, and lands on a sapling to preen beneath its wing. Freddy follows dutifully. 

It’s just this way, Freddy

The voice whispers, the soft chime of it caressing his innermost thoughts. 

What is? He asks, unsure where the avid is leading him. 

Just this way, Freddy. Just this way. 

The owl takes off, floating effortlessly upon the wind as it glides towards the forest's edge. The pins and needles of this place grew in intensity. The closer he got to where it lead, the louder the distorted voices of the trees became. Lamenting, wailing, horrid noises assailed his ears, but still the owl flew without a care. Finally it landed upon a low hanging branch, it’s seven eyes peering down at Freddy. 

It’s just right here. Right where he left it. Malformed and corrupted. Changed and cursed. You know this token, don’t you?

Freddy looked around the base of the tree, but saw nothing. He searched beneath the shrubs, brushed away the leaves, yet nothing caught his eye. 

I see nothing, he says, looking up into the black eyes of the bird above him. 

Look harder. It’s just there. 

Freddy returned to his search, brushing more and more of the leaves away as he felt the pins and needles grow stronger. Finally he found a stone beneath the debris, and upon its removal, found a tiny wicker doll, wrapped in thorns. 

The seven eyed owl spread its wings wide, and let loose a screech so ear piercing Freddy feared the drums would rupture. It flew off into the distance, leaving Freddy to ponder the fetish in his hands, and with reverent care he began to slowly remove the thorns. 

Somewhere in the distance he heard what could only be described as a large body collapsing to the ground. 

————-

Fredrick awoke some unknown amount of time later. The sounds of the meadow were peaceful overhead. Birds chirped in the branches, mice skittered amid the grass, bees buzzed to the flowers, and it was nice. Slowly, Freddy rolled himself over onto his back, looking up towards the never ending dusk. “Where am I…” He whispered, hardly bothering to ask the question, because what did it matter? He was here, and needed to find his way out. 

With aching muscles, Freddy sat up, and made it to his feet. He used his branch to support his weight, and cast his gaze around the sanctuary he's so serendipitously found. It was an unremarkable meadow. Flowers blew in the breeze, the grass gently swayed underfoot, and the whole place was otherworldly in its juxtaposition to the haunting forest he left. Freddy spun slowly to look each way he could in a desperate attempt to find a way out. Behind him and to the left was not a way out, but instead a curious sight. 

The meadow was decaying. It was being overcome by various mushrooms that sapped the life from the very ground, and the ugly scar cut a swath back into the forest. “Oh no,” Freddy whispered, “Oh, what’s happened…” Unable to stop his feet from moving, Freddy made his way towards the fungi. 

The intruding mushrooms were waging manifest destiny into the little meadow. Several types of mushrooms were all clustered together like a vanguard on the front lines, pushing the flowers and grass further and further back. Though the ones in the front lines were relatively small, the ones leading further into the forest were a different story. At first they were merely a few centimeters taller, but the further Freddy tread into the decaying forest, the larger they get. Some went up to his knee. Others his hip. Those that hung on the dying trees overhead looked like they could be used as umbrellas in a pinch. 

Fredrick knelt down and splayed his palm over the ground. He closed his eyes to try to see what he could suss from the whispers, but of the usual murmurs of the forest, he heard what could only be described as a death rattle. The lungs of the earth heaved with an unnatural strain, the sound coming to him ragged, and pained. Freddy opened his eyes and looked around in horror. What had happened here? What evil had seeped into the forest to cause such decay and destruction? “Okay...okay.” He whispered, steeling himself for the trek ahead. “Okay. Okay don’t worry. Don’t worry I’m here.” Who he was assuring was anyone’s guess. 

Fredrick moved further into the dense forest, the smell of decay and damp moss all around him. He passed over the picked clean bones of various creatures, stepped over the fungi infested logs of felled trees, and tried to quell his racing heartbeat the denser and darker the forest got. Every chance Freddy got he would stop and feel at the trees. He would run his fingers over the bones, and pluck the mushrooms free in a feeble attempt to see what he could find. The hum of magic vibrated through his fingertips, but the feel of it was foreign. Different. Alien. It was almost like his own, however there was a fuzziness to it, no not fuzziness - thornyness. When it vibrated through his hand it left in its wake pins and needles. 

Freddy followed the hum of magic deeper. He began to move at a quicker pace, almost frantic. His hands swiped mushrooms off the ground as he moved, feeling them between his fingers, and then tossing them into his bag. He would grab a bone or two, roll them between his knuckles, and then put them with the mushrooms. He did not stop moving. Around the bend there was a particularly strange cluster of mushrooms. They grew from a small overhang of branches that covered a hovel at the base of the tree. The mushrooms sprang from the sides of the hovel, twitching as they released spores, and even a little trail of their flat topped heads lead into the tiny hole. 

Freddy felt his heart squeeze. 

Slowly, hesitantly, Freddy approached the little hovel. He pushed aside the dying leaves and mushrooms and peaked within, only to have his breath catch in his throat. A mother fox lay dead within the hovel, her body already having decayed into near nothingness. The holes of her flank were infested with mushrooms, their tiny bodies sprouting from the flesh, and consuming what they could. Fur cling to bones and dying flesh as all manners of insects and fungi gnawed are her. 

Curled against her bones was a single kit, shivering, and crying in the cold. “Oh...oh no…” Freddy whispered, heart breaking. “Oh, little one, I’m so sorry. Come here,” With tender hands, Freddy reached out to gently pull the kit from the hovel. 

It was skin and bones, frigid, and shivering. Barely old enough to be off its mothers’ milk, the tiny kit was only barely beginning to show its auburn coloration. As Freddy pulled the little creature close his heartache only grew. A mushroom cluster had begun to grow from the soft flesh of the little kits left eye. Likely from attempting to nurse from it’s deceased mother, the spores had landed into the eye, and grown with a painful slowness that took its sight. “Oh...oh I’m so sorry my friend. I’m so sorry.” Freddy whispered, running the pad of his thumb up and down the center of the kits forehead. 

He sat back on his hind end, the kit cradled close to his neck in an attempt to warm it up as Freddy dug around in his bags. Many people had always laughed at the array of things he carried with him, but Freddy knew he’d one day need them. So when the powdered formula was found, he cheered in excitement. “You must be hungry, huh?” He asked the little creature, rubbing at its cheeks as it gnawed on his fingers. “Yes, yes I can see that. I know, but don’t worry. I’ll have you fat in just a second here.” 

Tucking the little kit into his tunic to keep it warm, Freddy went about the process of preparing it. The kit cried, and whimpered. It squirmed around his neck in an attempt to get comfortable, but it was all in vain as Freddy plucked the little creature up and set it in his lap to feed. The little baby bottle he filled with the powdered formula and water was tarnished and worn, and holding it in his hand made him smile. Lydia had been tickled pink when he convinced her that he needed it for all manner of creatures he’d find in the woods. Freddy looked up to the pale blues and purples of the sky as he positioned the kit to nurse. He needed to get home soon. 

As the little fox drank hungrily from the bottle, Freddy took stock of the things he had. A few days rations, two water skins, a few trinkets, and his medical kit. While going through his things, Freddy remembered the bones and mushrooms he had plucked on his way up here. With one hand holding the bottle, the other fished through his bag, and pulled one of the fungi free. At every angle Freddy looked at it, it appeared to be nothing more than a mushroom. However the magic hum was still there, leaving his fingers with pins and needles the longer he held it. 

“It takes more than a wrong turn to find yourself here.” A voice whispers from above. “What poor misfortune has lead you here, mortal?” 

Freddy jumps at the sudden voice, head whipping around as he searches for the source of it. Sitting on the fallen tree above the ridge behind him is a fox, it’s three tails wrapped around its legs as three eyes peer at him curiously. The kit in his hands drinks heartily from the bottle. 

“Monsters chased me here,” Freddy says tentatively. “I found this kit by its mother, and, well, I couldn’t just leave it.” 

“Death is a part of life. As surely as the sun sets, so too do we depart. Why do you bother to stop the cycle?” 

Freddy looked to the little creature in his hands. The milk dribbled down its chin as it licked its chops and curled down for a nap against the crook of his knee. “He doesn’t deserve to suffer alone.” Freddy whispers, thumb softly rubbing at a velvet ear. “Nothing should perish cold and alone in the forest.” 

“That kit is not the first to have passed, nor shall it be the last. Your tender heart is admirable, but in this place it will only get you more, and more lost. Until you too perish, cold, alone, and there will be nothing to comfort you.” 

Freddy softly ran his palm over the sleeping kits back, ushering it into a sleep he didn’t know it would awake from. “Maybe,” He agrees, a shrug to his shoulder. “However I did make a promise to protect the forest, and the creatures that live within it. It was my oath as a Thornspeaker. Should the forest claim me, it will claim me, and through my death life will flourish anew.” 

The fox chuckled. It wasn’t overly cruel, or condescending, but it did laugh. Slowly it stood and walked across the log, hopped down to the burrow Freddy pulled the kit from, and sat before it. It’s tails curled back around its body, as it regarded Freddy with a tilted head of curiosity. 

“You will find naught but horror, and suffering in these woods. Those that came before you have twisted it to their liking, instilled their will upon the very life you seek to protect. Do you think you, a single man, can undo what has been done before your fathers, fathers, father was born?” 

“Do I not owe it to the forest to try?” 

A contemplative hum escaped the fox. Slowly it looked over its shoulder, to the death held within the novel. 

“Then I will leave you with this wisdom, little mortal. Your eyes will deceive you. Their magic is wicked and deep. Where you think the corruption should be, you will not find it. Look where it never should have been, and you will find it.” 

The fox unfurled its many tails to stand. Like a ghost in the fog it wandered back into the forest, leaving Freddy, and the little kit alone amid the death, and decay. 

Freddy sat quiet for a moment, hand still idly rubbing at the soft fur of the kit in his lap. A thought strikes him. With tender fingers he lifts the little life up to inspect, and though it looks healthy despite the mushroom cluster blooming from its eye, he looks it over. He checks its ears, gently opens its mouth to check, and then finally turns his attention to the encroaching fungi. 

“I’m so sorry,” He whispers, eyes welling with tears as his fingers hold the little kit more firmly. His free hand grips the mushrooms at the base. Slowly he begins to pull them free. 

The kit squirms, squeals, cries in pain as the root of the fungi pulls at whatever it had attached itself too. With more force than necessary, Freddy pulls. He tries to not crush the little life in his hand as worries flash through his head: was he potentially pulling the very brain of this kit from its eye? What had the fungi attached itself too? 

Finally, the mushrooms begin to budge. Like a carrot dug deep into the earth, the roots clinging to the dirt, the mushrooms resist him. Yet Freddy is undeterred. He keeps whispered tear filled apologies under his breath as finally, the cluster pops free. 

Tangled into the bottoms of the mushrooms is what appears to be dirt, as though he had pulled them from the ground, and not the skull of a living being. Within the dirt is a petrified eye, magic keeping the blue of the iris glossy as it stares into nothingness. The pins and needles shoot in Freddy’s arm like wildfire. Sharp, white hot needles were being jammed into every inch of his arm, making it shake, as the sheer evil magic radiated off it in waves. 

The kit went limp in Freddy's hand. Slowly, reverently, Freddy set its body against the crook of his knee and cleaned off the dirt and mushrooms from the eye in his hand. His hands shook as angry, frustrated, heartbroken tears streamed down his face. “How dare you,” He whispered, voice tight with rage. “How dare anyone do this. You are not welcome here. Understand? I will find you, root you out, and I swear by the trees themselves I will see you pay for this.” 

The glossy blue eye started into nothing. Freddy held it in his palm and slowly closed his fingers over it. He took three breaths to ready himself, and on the third he squeezed. The eye popped like a grape in his hand, dissolving into sand that slipped through his knuckles. Fire shot up his arm the moment the eye popped, the force of it so jarring it topped Freddy onto his back. 

He pants as though he’s run a thousand miles, his hand and arm feeling numb and stinging as though he had shoved it into a blazing fire. He lifted his hand only to see that a searing wound had been left in his palm, the black tendrils of the magic smoking off his knuckles until they dissipated in the wind. The wound remained. 

A soft cry caught his ears, and not a moment later the fox kit crawled onto his stomach, and looked down at him with a single golden eye. With a relieved, and confused smile, Freddy slipped into darkness. 

[dovechim]

sugar, spice, and everything nice (m)

➾ 13k, weak sperm jimin x witch! reader, a crack smut essentially

➾ summary: you and jimin have been trying for a baby for the past six months, to no avail, but then you realise one crucial mistake: you’ve been neglecting your witchy heritage. what ensues is a month of trial and tribulation... for jimin at least. 

➾ warnings: mentions of difficulty conceiving, oral sex (m/f), snowballing, cock ring (kind of??), sex toys, ball play, impregnation, cum inflation, degradation, power play, clit and titty spanking, name calling, jimin is a cum machine, jimin gets cockblocked by a cat

➾ a/n: i died while writing this, but happy birthday to my sunshine boy, my angel, the love of my life, mr park jimin. your beauty and the kindness of your soul never ceases to amaze me. 

➾ a huge. huge. huge. thank you to @94hixtape because she supported me like a victoria’s secret bombshell bra throughout this entire process. right from the start when i decided to speed write this at the last minute, to when i was yelling at her about how i can’t do this anymore :”) i am eternally in your debt, lu. i hope you enjoy Mr Muffin <3

“No, Jimin. For the last time, you can’t ‘squeeze in a quickie’ before we leave. It’s not the right time,” you push your husband away with impatient hands as you try to get your winged liner just right. “The Ascendant is in Gemini, not Libra, and Cancer isn’t in the 10th house. Do you even have any idea what this means?”

Jimin stares at you with a blank expression on his face. “Um, no?”

You sigh in exasperation, channelling a little of your inner focus to get the flick on your left eye. Jimin watches you in the mirror with a little pout on his plush lips, leaning over to bury them in your neck as he scatters kisses all over your warm skin. “All I know is that I’m horny, and I want to make a baby. Right now. Little Jimothy is telling me that right now is the right time.”

Putting him on hold as you layer on some black liquid lipstick, you raise an eyebrow at him in the mirror before you turn to look pointedly at his crotch. As per doctor’s orders, Jimin is wearing loose boxer shorts with no underwear in an effort to promote testicular health and raise his sperm count. You’ve been trying for a baby with him for the past 6 months, and while you’re not entirely desperate to have one, Jimin gets hard at the thought of you being round and heavy with his child. You never knew he had such a preference for pregnant women, till he told you that he also very much enjoys the baby-making process.

A little too much, if you do say so yourself, since there has been little success so far.

Sometimes you think Jimin is doing this on purpose because he likes to see you all plugged up with his semen, only to pull out and watch the thick mixture leak from you. But you’ve been doing it in every position possible, timing it with your ovulation and aiming for multiple loads a day with your hips raised in the air after each one, and still… nothing. Although, the look on your husband’s face every time he slides his cock into your already filled, sloppy seconds pussy is second to none, so you indulge him (and maybe yourself too).

After several doctor’s visits and checkups, you realized that you’ve been neglecting one very important part of your heritage. You do come from a line of witches, after all, and perhaps the solution to your woes lies in the supernatural. So tonight, at the witch’s coven meeting, you’re going to find some answers.

“Come on, we’re late, get changed.” You purse your lips at yourself in the mirror once before rising and turning to get your bag. “And don’t wear those tight jeans, baby. Wear the ones I got you instead.”

You catch Jimin right in the act as he’s about to shove his other leg through his favourite pair of light wash jeans, the ones that cup his ass so perfectly, but cradle his balls a little too closely. Caught red-handed, Jimin slowly eases his remaining leg out of the jeans before dropping them to the ground, slightly upset as he turns to open the cupboard. You recognize all the signs of him throwing a mini tantrum- his cheeks are puffy, lips more pouty than usual and he is fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, unable to maintain eye contact.

“What’s wrong?” You crowd in behind him, lifting your arms to encircle his waist as you press wet kisses to his chubby little cheeks. Jimin always claims to hate it when you do anything involving his cheeks, but you know he secretly loves the attention. He also loves it when you baby talk him, although he’d rather eat bat spleen than admit it. “Is my little baby daddy upset? Tell me so I can make it better.”

He turns away from you in an attempt to play hard to get, but you are nothing if not persistent, and you know your husband’s moods all too well. “Is this because the doctor won’t let you wear tight jeans anymore?”

“…No.”

“Oh come on, you know you can’t lie to me.” You turn him to face you, hands sliding down his back to cup his supple ass with both palms. “I know how much you love your ass, and trust me baby, I do too. But this is for the good of… Jimothy. Alright?”

You do your best to keep from grimacing as you use his favourite word for his… thing. But Jimin still seems unconvinced as he glances down at his thighs.

“Here. I’ll cast this new spell that I learnt the other day. It’ll make your pants look tighter on the outside, so that everyone will still know that you have thighs and an ass to die for. Okay?” You smooth your thumb over his cheek, satisfied when he finally grins like a rosy cheeked cherub.

Lowering yourself to your knees, you give him a quick kiss to his lower belly before focusing on the loose material of his jeans. Closing your eyes and channelling your inner energies, you whisper a few words and feel the burst of magic surge through your fingertips. When you open your eyes again, you are immediately assaulted with the sight of his gorgeous thick thighs that you know and love, bands of corded muscle that have brought you to the height of ecstasy.

“There. Better?” You glance up at him, studying his reaction.

Jimin considers his new appearance, even turning to appreciate his own ass in the mirror before he finally deems it satisfactory. But as he turns to you once more, you notice something else. The front of his loose jeans are currently tented, and Jimin fidgets on the balls of his feet when he realises.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I’ve just been so on edge, baby,” he runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “I haven’t jerked off in the last month like you told me to. My balls are so full right now, I think I could fill up an entire cauldron. It’s just… your position down there…”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” you run a hand up his thighs to soothe him, but it only works him up further as a wet patch begins to form. “Let me help you feel better. Just sit on the bed and relax, baby.”

You push him backwards so that he sinks onto your shared bed with his thighs spread wide. Positioning yourself between his legs, your mouth begins to water as you anticipate the feeling of him in your mouth once more. You haven’t sucked him off since you began trying for a baby, reason being that not even one drop of cum should go to waste. Everything should end up in your pussy where it belongs. But given that the moon and the sun are not aligned tonight, you can afford to waste one tiny little load of his. Besides, it’ll give you a chance to test his sperm count with that spell you’ve been meaning to try.

Jimin’s hips are already canting upwards in anticipation as you fiddle with the button on his jeans, flicking it open and taking him out. He is already swollen and dripping with precum in your hand, and you take the opportunity to tease him with kitten licks to his head, cleaning up every drop. He is salty and sweet on your tongue, and as you take him in deeper, his girth forces your mouth open wider.

“All the way, please, deeper,” Jimin is whining as lifts the hem of his shirt to run his fingers over his tensed abdomen, all the way to his peaked nipples. A glance down at you almost makes him lose his load on the spot- your black lips are devouring his cock, leaving a ring of black stain around his base. As if you are a Dementor sucking his soul straight out from his dick, but Jimin can’t think of any better way to go.

Loosening your throat, you push your nose into the patch of hair at his base, swallowing hard around his length so that he can feel the way your throat tightens around him. This elicits a very audible groan from him as he bucks his hips into you, expletives pouring from those dirty lips of his.

“I’m-m gonna cum, fuck, can’t last much longer,” there is a tinge of embarrassment in his voice, but to encourage him to cum down your throat, you massage his inner thigh soothingly, swallowing around him a few more times. His cock jerks and pulses upon your tongue, and salty warm liquid engulfs your tastebuds.

You milk him dry with your lips tightening around him, sucking him for all he’s worth, but not swallowing just yet. The jets of cum seem never ending, but each pulse gets weaker and weaker till Jimin squirms in your grip with a soft moan, cock softening as it slips out entirely.

Judging by the taste alone, his sperm count seems to have improved slightly, and the viscosity of his cum seems to be in tip top condition as you swallow the entire mixture down, and it slides down your throat with some difficulty. It’s still bitter though, and before you can think to salvage some of it for your spell, Jimin sits up and brings his mouth to yours. You push what’s left of his cum in your mouth into his with your tongue, and he moans in response, lapping it up eagerly. The resulting kiss is sloppy and messy, a mixture of his cum and your saliva dripping down both your chins.

You draw away to catch your breath, glancing in the mirror to check your black lip, only to see that it hasn’t budged at all.

Impressive.

You turn back to help Jimin with his pants- sans underwear of course, doctors orders- and with a snap of your fingers, the wet patch on the front of his jeans is gone. Jimin chuckles as he brings you in close for a kiss.

“That’s my beautiful, witchy wife.”

*

People are staring openly on the subway as you navigate through the many stairs to locate the right exit. To be fair, you do look quite the spectacle- bat wing sleeved, ankle length dress billowing behind you as you stride purposefully, with a full matte black lip and contrasting shades of autumn themed eyeshadow on your lids. Jimin is evidently a fan of the thigh high slit going up the side- you’ve had to bat his hands away a number of times already.

“Do people just… hold coven meetings in like, function rooms or something?” Jimin is glancing at the passing street signs with wonder. “Or is it a home affair? Could these any of these houses be home to a coven of witches? Will our home be a coven?”

“Ok firstly, a coven means a group of witches,” you stroke your thumb over his knuckles gently to take the sting out of your words. “But yes. Modern day witches do exist, and they are scattered far and wide. And no. We won’t be hosting any meetings, not if you don’t want me to, baby.”

You stop abruptly when you realise that you’ve almost walked past Number 31 on Ursula Street. Ascending the steps, you rap smartly on the door exactly 7 times.

“You’ll be, uh… throwing off our numbers a little,” you whisper to Jimin. “Usually we don’t allow observers into closed rituals. Runs the risk of disrupting things, we’re usually very secretive about the happenings of our meetings. Just some witchy logic. But I told them about us, and they said it’s okay.”

Before Jimin can respond, the door flings open, and Jisoo launches herself into your arms, squealing your name in excitement.

You are equally enthralled to be in the embrace of your best friend once more. Ever since you married Jimin, you’d skipped out on weekly coven meetings and rituals for fear of making Jimin feel left out, or subjecting him to their scrutiny. It’s uncommon for a witch to marry a Non Mag, practically unheard of in your wizarding community. But going totally MIA on your coven has since taken its toll on you, making it harder to conjure your magic and focus your energies.

Upon stepping into Jisoo’s house, you can immediately feel the effects of being near your coven rejuvenate your weary body- sparks of electricity running up and down your arms, your blood bubbling with a renewed sense of vitality, and-

Jimin is looking at you with a look of amazement and incredulity on his face.

“Shit, you look-“ he stutters on his words, unable to articulate just how alive you seem, eyes glowing and cheeks rosy, and entirely in your element here. “If I thought you were beautiful before, you are positively incandescent now.”

“Wait, really?” You touch your cheeks self consciously. “Oh- well, it’s because-“

“Come in, come in! We don’t have all night, our first ritual is about to start soon!” Rose bustles into the hallway, bundling you up in her arms and personally escorting you to the living room. When you make a sound of protest, glancing over your shoulder at Jimin, she pauses. “Oh, is this the husband you’ve been hiding away from us all this time?”

“Yeah, um…”

“Hi, I’m Jimin,” Jimin says hesitantly, but Rose, blasé as she always is, merely spares him a nod as she continues to usher everyone to the living room.

“Ritual first. Introductions can wait.”

The living room is darkened, with silver candles positioned around the room at strategic spots to lend the entire setting an eerie glow when you set them alight simultaneously with a wave of your arm. You can feel Jimin’s amazed eyes on you, for you typically don’t do such grand gestures of magic around him. But here, surrounded by your coven- your closest sisters- you are home.

“Show off,” Joy mutters playfully under her breath. “You’ve always been so good with that.”

“Well. Fire is my element,” you shrug as you take your place in the chalk drawn circle. “I do it more for the dramatic flair. Though I do quite like to be the queen of darkness.”

There are primroses and daisies scattered all across the floor within the circle, and a basket of strawberries sits waiting by the side as offerings. Joy picks up the basket, distributing them around the circle before she settles back in her spot. Rose has lit up some incense sticks and is passing them around, purifying the space with a sweet and flowery scent before the circle is cast.

Jisoo takes your hand, and you link hands with Joy on your other side. Together, the five of you are equally spread around the circle, and when you are all connected, you feel a familiar rush of exhilaration buzz in your veins. You close your eyes to concentrate as your leader, Jisoo, begins the chant to invoke your coven’s deity- the Norse goddess Freya, also known as Queen of the Valkyries, the goddess of love, beauty, sex, and quite fittingly, you note to yourself, fertility.

Jisoo begins the chant with a low hum in her voice. “I call upon the powers of the East, powers of air to help me clear my mind.”

To her left, you continue. “I call upon the powers of the South, powers of fire reminding me of my inner strength.”

Joy’s turn. “I call upon the powers of the West, powers of water which connects me to the Mother’s blood.”

And lastly, Rose’s voice comes out loud and clear. “I call upon the powers of the North, powers of the Earth to keep my body strong, and my mind centred.”

And then all four voices are lifted in harmony with one another, four bodies merged as one, centered in sisterhood and anchored in blood.

Freya, Goddess of Magick Mother of the Earth, keeper of the runes I invite you to join us. Freya, Goddess of the many names, Goddess of nature and fertility Mother of the silver moon hear us. Freya, Goddess of Love Join us. Freya, your guidance and wisdom I seek. Come to us now.

And then silence, as the candlelight dances over your face, casting a shadowy cloak over your features, and Jimin hears the wind howling outside. From his vantage point in the hallway, even he can taste the electrified atmosphere on his tongue, feel the hairs on his arm stand on edge as the elements are summoned, feel the heat of your fire burning away in the depths of his chest.

There is a moment when it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room, and then the four of you rise to your feet at the same time, dropping your interlinked hands as the circle is broken.

With a wave of your hand, the candles are extinguished, and the lights come back on. You turn to Jimin still in the hallway with a grin on your face, sliding into his embrace with your cheek on his chest. “How was that?”

“You were magnificent.”

*

Jimin needs to come to these coven meetings more often.

He is currently in Jisoo’s kitchen, stuffing his face with the main course of roast turkey, sweet potato fries, French onion soup with pumpkin pie for dessert. It’s practically a Thanksgiving dinner right in the middle of August! He kicks himself for not asking about these meetings sooner. If he knew he would get to feast like a king like this, he would have been clocking in regular attendance months ago.

Jimin snags a spare plate, loading a heaping scoop of roast turkey for you. Having relocated to the kitchen when you said you needed some private time with your coven, Jimin realises that he hasn’t seen you ever since, and while the other girls have darted in and out to grab bites of food, he’s positive you haven’t had a bite to eat tonight.

And he can’t have that.

Venturing into the now normally lit living room, he finds you curled up on the couch with Joy, and the both of you are clasping each other’s hands and looking as if you are discussing something intense.

“Um, sorry to interrupt, but…”

“Jimin! Oh no, of course not, sorry for stealing your wife away,” Joy giggles, making a move to push herself up from the couch. “I need to get some things from the other room. You can have her back. We’re pretty much done now.”

“Oh,” Jimin says as he takes her place beside you, pushing the plate of food into your hands. “Don’t let me get in the way, though. I just wanted to make sure my wife had something to eat. I’ll just watch her finish this and you can continue after that.”

Sighs of envy follow, and Jisoo props her chin on her knees as she stares at you wistfully. “You got a good one there, _____. Don’t let him go.”

“Thank you, baby,” you lean over to kiss Jimin’s cheek, grinning when there is cooing and giggling from the other girls. “Everything okay so far?”

“Everything’s great!” Jimin is grinning enthusiastically. “The food especially. I could stay here all night!”

“No need for that,” you chuckle, starting to dig in on the mouthwatering slabs of luscious, fatty meat that Jimin had picked out for you. “We’re almost done. In fact, I was just about to tell you that we can go. I just need the stuff from Joy.”

The gravy is deliciously salty and savoury, and once again you have to compliment Jisoo’s culinary expertise. You finish the entire plate in the blink of an eye, with Jimin’s watchful gaze making sure that you get the nutrition you need. He jumps up and offers to get you a second plate when you’re done, but then Joy reappears with a hefty looking leather bag in one hand, and a bag full of Tupperware in the other.

“Got your stuff here,” she hands you the carrier with a wink, “and packed some food for you to take home here. C’mon, just take it already. You know we can’t finish these all on our own. And it looks like Jimin-“ she cuts herself off with a host of giggles. “Jimin’s going to need his strength in the coming weeks.”

“Wait, what-“ Jimin’s confused glance at you goes unanswered as you roll your eyes at her, but accept her offering.

Glancing into the leather bag furtively, you sling it over your shoulder, as you get up from the couch. Jimin takes the bag of food from Joy as he follows you out to the hallway. “Baby, need help with that other bag? It looks heavy, let me carry it.”

You seem a little distracted as you meet his gaze. “Oh, what? No it’s okay. Let’s get home. I already called our Uber.”

“Good luck Jimin!!!” The three other girls shout from the living room as you usher Jimin out the door hastily, shushing him when he tries to ask any questions.

Little does Park Jimin know what he’s in for in the coming weeks.

*

A soft meow stirs him from his sleep, and Jimin opens his eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them as he glances around in confusion. A cat? You and him don’t own one, so why-

“Say hi to Mr Egg McMuffin!” You are currently holding a cat with fur as dark as midnight, cradling him like a baby to your chest as he explores your chin with his paws. “Mr Muffin, do you wanna say hi to Jimin here?”

And then you practically thrust the cat at him, and in his haste to catch Mr Muffin, Jimin’s thumb nearly ends up in his butthole as he struggles to hold the silky black cat in his arms. Mr Muffin’s eyes are a luminous orange- strange eye colour, Jimin’s never seen an orange eyed cat before- as he glances up at Jimin and proceeds to lick his paw.

“Isn’t he the cutest?”

“U-um, yeah, sure babe, but wh-where did you get this? Surely not-“ Jimin breaks off to stare at the leather bag Joy had given you the other night.

“Oh no, don’t be silly,” you reach over to scoop Mr Muffin out of his arms. “He’s my familiar. Most witches have pets that they call familiars, and this is mine. I’ve been keeping him at Jisoo’s all this while because… well I didn’t know how you’d react to him. But after last night, I thought it might be finally time to bring him home.”

Jimin narrows his eyes at the black cat in your arms suspiciously. Alright, but that still doesn’t answer his question of precisely where you got that damned cat from. “Yeah, but where-“

Mr Muffin cuts him off by meowing loudly, his tail lashing back and forth.

“Oh look! Mr Muffin wants to be fed,” you coo at the cat, nuzzling your nose into his soft fur as you start to walk out of the room. Jimin’s eyes are immediately drawn to your bare legs, and he can feel the blood start to rush south as he greedily eats up the expanse of skin revealed to him.

“Baby…” Jimin whines, pushing aside the covers to reveal his cock, already starting to leak precum.

You glance backwards to take in this sight, and then return to nuzzling the cat’s soft belly. “Give me a minute baby-“

Jimin settles back into his pillow with his arms behind his head, a hand sneaking downwards to tug at his length before he realises-

“-you’ll get your food soon.”

That you were talking to the fucking cat and not him.

Once you’re out of the room, you allow Mr Muffin to leap out of your arms. As you scoop some food out for him into a bowl, you turn to him in a serious manner.

“Mr Muffin, I need your help.” At your imploring tone, he turns to you with a wise look in his eyes. “You already know what I’m asking for right? Jimin and I are trying to have a baby. But the problem is, he’s so fucking horny all the time, he can’t stop jerking off. The doctor says that it’s making his sperm all watery and weak, and it’s affecting our chances of conceiving.”

He sympathises with a meow and a headbutt against your knee.

“I know, thanks for the concern, Mr Muffin.” You sigh. “So I need you to help me stop him from masturbating. When I’m not home, you need to interrupt him and, I don’t know- shove your butt in his face like you used to do to me all the time back in high school.”

A few lashes of his tail as Mr Muffin considers your preposition.

“Please, Mr Muffin?” You scratch him just between the ears, just how he likes it, and he purrs in enjoyment. “You’re Jimin’s last hope. He can’t keep his hands off his dick. He’s probably in there jerking off as we speak. I can handle this one by myself, but in the future, it’s gonna be all you, buddy.”

Mr Muffin yawns, then approaches his food bowl. You take this to be a sign of agreement.

“Great! I’ll get you those tuna bites you like next time.” You need to sweeten him up somehow.

But that’s one thing done and checked off your list for now.

*

“I need to- what?” Jimin is currently half naked as you accost him after his shower. Well, he’s fully naked now, since you just ripped the towel off his lower half.

“Wear this. It’s a fetility sachet I made.” You dangle a pink silk cloth bag from your finger, roughly the size of a soup dumpling.

You’d spent all afternoon putting this together with the recipe from Joy. Since Joy’s element is Earth, you figured she was more in touch with Mother Earth than you are, and hence would be the perfect person to go to for advice. This particular recipe called for three mistletoe berries, one drop of Patchouli oil, one pinch of oak leaves, one hawthorne flower and a pinch of powdered mandrake. It wasn’t easy getting mistletoe berries when Christmas is this far away, but thankfully you managed to secure a good supply.

“Uh, okay,” Jimin holds out his hand. “Just put it around my wrist or something.”

“No, it has to be worn as close to the testicles as possible,” you tell him, taking a hold of his soft dick and pushing it against his damp abdomen. “Or else it loses its effectiveness. Just let me… loop this around back here… and cross that over here… there!”

You complete the knot around the base of his dick, being careful so as not to cut off his blood circulation as you position the bag just under his balls and lower his dick back into place. “Does it feel okay? Too tight? Too loose?”

“Wait, just a second,” Jimin reaches down to fidget with the string tied around his dick, already feeling uncomfortable with having something swinging around and hitting his balls. “H-how long do I have to wear this for?”

“All day. At night, you can put it under your pillow, and if we’re having sex, under the mattress.”

Jimin’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “Are you- fucking with me? I have to wear this… thing near my balls all fucking day?”

“Baby, don’t be like this,” you reach for his hand to placate him, but when he moves it away from you in irritation, you reach for the back of his neck instead, massaging it soothingly and focusing your calming energies into your fingertips. “It’s for… Jimothy’s own good. You want Jimothy to be as strong and as healthy as possible right? It’ll help with your sperm count and the thickness of your semen. The thicker the semen the better, since it’ll have all the nutrients your sperms need to swim as fast as possible to my egg.”

Jimin can feel the constriction around his dick getting tighter and tighter as you go on and on with your scientific facts about conception. When he glances down, his cock is slowly hardening- all this talk about cum is making him hard, but the stupid fucking charm on his cock won’t let him get to full erection without taking it off.

“God, alright,” he says in annoyance, closing his eyes as he flexes a thigh muscle hard, in order to try and redirect some of that blood flow from his burgeoning erection. “S-speaking of your egg, when are you ovulating this month?”

“Your dick looks so cute like that!” You coo as your fingers stroke over his soft, limp cock.

“It’s Jimothy,” he hisses through clenched teeth.

“Thank you baby,” you kiss him on the cheek sweetly, and he can smell the whiff of your cherry and tangerine scented perfume- which almost sends him right back to square one. “It should be the end of this week. So we have to get your sperm all healthy and ready to go.”

Thank fuck, Jimin thinks to himself, exhaling a breath to calm down. Not long more till his doctor imposed abstinence is lifted from him. Having to restrict himself to cumming only during a certain week a month is taking a toll on him, the blue balls are excruciatingly painful to suffer through especially when you like to push your ass back into his crotch when he is spooning you in bed every night. 

Suddenly, Jimin longs for the days of high school and college where he would masturbate till his cock was raw and his balls were empty. Now, he spends most of his time with his dick untouched and balls brimmingly full. He didn’t think baby making sex would be this torturous. His 19 year old self had always imagined fucking till his dick threatened to drop off, having sex non-stop at all hours of the day, constantly spilling his load and watching it leak out like it was the nectar of the gods. And because it was in so much abundance, he even fantasised about cleaning it all up with his tongue once or twice.

“I’m off to work now, have a good day!” You give him a quick kiss on his lips on tiptoe. “Wait I forgot! I need to say a brief enchantment to your balls- er I mean Jimothy over here.”

So you get down to your knees, cheeks against his balls, nuzzling them ever so slightly. Jimin feels the surge of blood rush downwards again, and he grunts in pain as the baby pink ribbon tightens around his slowly hardening dick.

“Oh goddess Freya, please join us as we bid for your blessings. Please allow our efforts to come to fruition, pour your anointing oil upon our ever yearning bodies as we strive to become one with Mother Nature.”

And then you are on your feet, kissing him on the cheek once more before heading out the door.

Jimin collapses on the bed in a heady rush, his erection fighting valiantly against the silk string tied around his base. He listens carefully for the sounds of the main door, then the gate unlocking and closing, then waits a few heartbeats more just to be sure.

Then, his hand sneaks down his toned chest, over his ripped abdomen, gripping his base tightly as he lets out a groan of relief. Impatiently, he tugs at one of the strings to loosen it, seeking to remove the offending object entirely so that he can stroke one out to his heart’s desire. The thought of painting his abs with his own cum has him beyond aroused, and his heart is racing, pounding in his chest as he swallows hard, spreading his thighs.

“MEOW!!!”

A mass of black fur pounces on him, and he yells out in surprise.

He drops his dick to attend to the hellcat currently taking up residence on his face, writhing and meowing and yelling so loudly that his head begins to spin. There is fur in his mouth, and he sputters to try and clear his throat.

“God-pppthhht fucking damn it Mr-ppthh Mr Egg- MR MUFFIN!!!”

For the love of all things that are holy, Mr Muffin has decided to stick his butt in Jimin’s face. He is now granted with a front row seat to a very intimate part of Mr Muffin he would much rather not be acquainted with, and his erection dies down very quickly.

He finally manages to grasp the cat by its mid-section, placing it on the floor and shooing it away with a general kick in its direction. It comes nowhere near hitting him, but it does the trick. Mr Muffin skedaddles, hissing all the way, but the damage has been done, and Jimin’s raging boner is no longer so.

*

You can feel the telltale signs of your ovulation period drawing near.

Tender twinges on one side of your belly, and your discharge is running clearer than normal. According to the ovulation test you took at work just now, the results came out negative, but you usually take more than one test anyway. It should begin anytime soon now, but you’ll take the next test at least 10 hours from now in order to make sure.

When you get home, Mr Muffin greets you loudly at the door. You reach down to give him pets and scratches, and he weaves in and out of your stride as you head to the kitchen to fix something to eat.

“Mr Muffin, were you good today baby?” You say loudly, glancing in the direction of Jimin’s study to make sure he doesn’t suddenly appear, before crouching down to tickle Mr Muffin’s chin. His entire ebony body vibrates in a purr, and you whisper to him furtively. “Did anything happen while I was gone?”

Mr Muffin blinks at you slowly, once, twice, three times.

“He did?!” You say with a gasp. “I knew it. I knew it. That horny bastard can’t keep his hands off his dick for longer than a second. When? The moment I stepped out of the house? Oh god.”

The study door opens, and you straighten up with a smile on your face. Jimin comes padding out in his white tee and loose grey sweatpants, his classic attire on his days off. He seems to be waddling a little, walking awkwardly, but you surmise that it’s probably due to the little charm hanging near his balls.

“Hi baby, did you have a good day? Are you hungry? I was going to start dinner,” you smile as you turn to the fridge to start getting out the salad ingredients.

Jimin does a double take to make sure that you are, indeed, talking to him and not that blasted Mr Muffins this time. He sends a narrow eyed glare in Mr Muffin’s general direction- he should really talk to you about the terms of endearment the two of you use in your relationship- but the cat only yawns, exposing his razor sharp canines.

“It was alright, how was yours?” He shuffles in next to you to start boiling water for the pasta.

“Hmm, the usual, that stupid brat Jeongguk came in drunk again today. I don’t even know why we need an intern, but he’s quite possibly the brattiest intern we’ve had.” You chop up several tomatoes and apples before tossing them into the bowl with the lettuce. “Was it too uncomfortable?”

“What?” Jimin turns to you in the midst of measuring out the noodles. “Wh-oh! You mean the charm? It was alright.”

His grudging tone elicits him a kiss on his cheek as you cuddle into his chest to placate him. Jimin steals a kiss from your lips, savouring your lips on his own as his hands wander down to grab a handful of your ass, pulling you into his grasp. “I missed you while you were gone today.”

“I know, I missed you too,” you pull away and cup his cheeks in both hands. “You’re so good to me you know? Thank you for being so tolerant of all this. I know it’s been hard, but I’m sure it will pay off.” You kiss him on his nose before brushing his hair off his forehead and giving him another smooch there. “I got you something that I think you’ll really like.”

Jimin perks up immediately. “A surprise?”

“Come here baby, leave dinner for a sec,” you take his hand and lead him to the living room.

On your way back from work, you’d stopped by a shop that Joy recommended to you. Pulling the velvet bag out of its plastic carrier, you loosen the drawstring and pull out-

Jimin’s heart skips a beat as he watches you pull out a flesh coloured dildo the size of his forearm. He dry swallows a few times, feeling his dick stir in his sweats. “I-is that-“

“Yes, it is,” you grin at him.

God. That thing is massive. Jimin can feel himself getting excited just by thinking of getting to use it on you. It may not be the same as getting to fuck you himself, but just the thought of watching you take another dick that isn’t his own- and one of this size too- is more than enough to tide him over for now. 
He pulls you into his arms.

“I think dinner can wait, babe.” Jimin is suddenly hungry for something else.

You giggle against his chest.

“Let’s take this into the bedroom,” Jimin whispers huskily into your ear, sweeping you into his arms, onto his shoulder and spanking your ass cheek hard.

He plops you onto the bed, and your thighs part involuntarily. Jimin settles himself in between and kisses your lower belly as his hands skim up the insides of your thigh.

“I’ve been wet all day,” you admit to him as he pushes your skirt up. “In fact, I think I soaked through my panties. They’re ruined.”

“Oh really?” Jimin kisses a wet trail up your inner thigh. “I think… I’ll have to check for myself.”

Lifting your ass briefly so that he can get your skirt over your hips, Jimin scoops both arms under your legs. His breaths are now directly against your core.

“Look what we have here,” he explores the wet patch on your underwear with the tip of his tongue, making it even wetter. Then, he licks the entire area with his tongue, saturating the white cotton entirely. “So fucking sweet. A-are you ovulating already? Your pussy only tastes like this when you’re ripe for me.”

You squirm in his grasp as he pushes the crotch aside to press his nose into you intimately. “M-maybe, the te-test I took earlier-“

Jimin doesn’t wait to hear the results of the test as he tears your underwear off with a ravenous growl, dipping his tongue into your slit as he laps up every drop of your arousal. Every lick assaults your already engorged clit, brushing against it roughly as Park Jimin spreads your thighs wide. You are incredibly exposed to him as he devours your pussy like a man starved, and you can see the way his hips are gyrating against the mattress as if he is a dog in heat.

“So- fucking- sweet, can’t wait to fuck you full of my babies,” Jimin pants into your inner thigh, taking a moment to tease you with two fingers. He slides them into your entrance just barely, stretching you out and then withdrawing them. Sticky, clear strings of your arousal connect his fingers to your pussy, and he plays with them for a moment, pulling his fingers away to see how far they’ll stretch. Jimin takes pleasure in breaking them as his plush lips wrap around his digits. “Look how sticky and wet your pussy is baby. All ready for me to give you a baby. I don’t need some stupid test to tell me that there’s a ripe little egg waiting.”

“Jimin, please,” you thread your fingers into his hair, pulling him in closer. You can feel yourself just on the edge of orgasm, just a few more flicks to your sensitive clit and-

Your breath is ripped from your lungs as Jimin attaches his plump lips to your clit and just sucks, and you wail his name so loud that your throat goes raw. You can feel yourself leaking copious amounts of your arousal as you spasm around nothing, but Jimin licks every drop of it as if it was his last meal.

Then, he reaches for the huge pale dildo lying forgotten by your side, and you feel the head of it bump against your lips gently.

“Fuck, you’re so small,” Jimin exclaims, stroking your pussy lips reverently as you lay there boneless, legs spread wide. “Think you can take all of this?”

Wait, what?

You push yourself up onto your elbows as you frown at him, glancing down to see Jimin holding the item you’d bought against your lower lips, even slicking the head up with your wetness.

“Jimin, no-“ you reach down to grab it from him. “This isn’t a fucking dildo, for the love of Freya, Goddess Almighty! It’s a fucking fertility candle! We need to burn it while we have sex. And say an incantation to it before and after. You need to cum inside me as many times as you can before the candle runs out. That’s why I got such a long one, I figured Jimothy doesn’t work well under pressure.”

Jimin is speechless for a moment as he watches you push your skirt down and place the dild- dick shaped candle with veins running up the length of it- on the altar that you had set up in your bedroom.

“Wh-wait, when did that get there?” Jimin points an accusing finger at the pink and silver dressed altar, with the picture of the Norse goddess Freya at its very center. “It wasn’t there this morning-“

“What else do you think? I put it there just now,” you say as you set the candle in front of her picture.

Jimin forces himself to stop ogling at how bizarre this entire set up is- a regal looking altar with a ginormous dildo in front of a goddess.

Satisfied with the placing of the candle, you turn to him with a sweet smile. “Thank you for eating me out so well, baby. Are you trying something new? I’ve never seen you so… on edge before. But it’s hot.”

On edge? That’s because he abso-fucking-lutely is, Jimin clenches his fist in an attempt to calm himself down. He hasn’t had a moment to himself in ages because of that darned cat. Even when he locks himself in the study and browses through his favourite porn sites to take a little bit of the pressure off his blue balls, Mr Muffins knows. That eerie, stupid fucking cat just somehow knows. And then the cat will be pawing at his door, scratching the mahogany wood to ribbons, and somehow letting himself in even though Jimin swears he locked the door.

Jimin feels like his house is haunted.

*

Jimin has the perfect plan.

Turns out, your ovulation window doesn’t open today, but tomorrow night instead. Just the thought of having to wait sets his teeth on edge. Not to mention, every time the charm brushes against his inner thighs or his balls, Jimin doubles over in over-stimulation, his dick aching and desperate for some attention.

He’s resorted to taking the rest of the week off work now. There’s no possible way he can walk into the office with a charm around his balls like this.

Spending days alone with Mr Muffin has not softened him up to the intuitive animal. Jimin glares at it with eyes narrowed in derision every time it prowls around the entire apartment, avoiding any interaction with it as far as possible. But then, he thinks of the perfect solution to his problem. All it takes is a trip to the vet.

“Please, Dr Kim, please, my cat is very sick,” he puts on his best imitation of a pet owner worried sick. “Poor little Mr Egg McMuffin hasn’t been able to sleep in the past few weeks. I’ve tried everything, from lavender spray to warm milk, but nothing. You are Mr Muffin’s last hope.”

Dr Kim Taehyung sighs through his nose. It’s been a long day for him.

“Mr Park, I cannot simply just… take the cat away for observation. The vet kennels are full.”

Jimin slumps in his seat.

“However-“

Jimin perks up.

“I can prescribe some sleeping pills for you.” Dr Kim scribbles out an illegible note and hands it to Jimin. “Dissolve this in some warm milk and give it to him. Make sure to follow the recommended ratio, or else your cat will end up knocked out for the rest of the week instead of just one night.”

Jimin clasps the note to his chest, the burnished bright eyes of a desperate man as he thanks the vet enthusiastically.

With the medicine in hand, Jimin laughs all the way home.

“Here Mr Muffin, here kitty kitty,” Jimin calls, a saucer of the finest cream all ready and waiting.

But nothing. The darned hellcat is nowhere to be seen. Jimin calls and calls, but the devil is currently tucked away in his lair somewhere.

Jimin tries desperately to tame the rising frustration in his chest as he sets the saucer down gingerly. God. He never thought he’d resort to this.

He grasps himself firmly through his sweatpants, and groans aloud in relief. This is the first stimulation he’s had in weeks, and it sends blood rushing to warm his cock immediately. The string around the base of his cock tightens, but Jimin is well used to it now, even comes to like it as it restricts his soft, limp cock.

Hmm. Maybe he should be looking into some cock rings the next time he goes on Amazon.

Just as the thought passes, he hears an Earth shatteringly loud wailing meow, and then the devil himself is curling around his ankles. Mr Muffin stands on his hindlegs, sharp claws digging into Jimin’s sweatpants in an effort to get his hands off his dick.

“Mr Muffin, look what I got for you today,” Jimin releases his dick, and it seems to appease Mr Muffin’s enraged meows. He coos in a sickeningly sweet voice, the way he’s seen you do it, as he pushes the saucer of cream toward the cat. “That’s right, it’s a yummy treat for you.”

Mr Muffin approaches the saucer warily, eyes darting between the brimming surface and Jimin’s crouched figure suspiciously. His whiskers twitch as he sniffs the bowl once, then his tongue darts out carefully to taste it. With a lash of his tail against Jimin’s shins- Jimin only just barely holds in a muttered swear word- Mr Muffin crouches by the bowl as he laps up the cream noisily.

Jimin sinks back onto his ass with a quiet sigh of victory. Not long now.

Within moments, Mr Muffin is asleep on the floor, tongue lolling out as he dozes.

Jimin pumps a fist in the air as he shoves himself to his feet, hightailing it to his study and locking the door, double and triple checking it. He pulls up the porn he’s been saving since the dawn of eternity, scrolls through a few of them just to get himself warmed up as his dick hardens in response.

He’s been trying really hard for the past six months not to jerk off. He really has. He’s also been nourishing his body with all the right foods to ensure that his sperm is the strongest it can be, from oily fish like salmon and tuna to leafy green vegetables and citrus fruits. Alcohol and caffeine intake are also minimized, a feat given how much Jimin loves his beer and vodkas, but all for the sake of the baby. Along with increased exercise, he’s never felt better. At the last visit, doctor says his sperm health has improved tremendously, from motility, volume and count.

So just this once can’t hurt right?

He spreads his thighs, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. Jimothy’s going to be in a good rough tough of war today.

His cock is twitching against his abdomen, even redder than usual due to the constriction at his base. As Jimin spreads his precum down his length, he groans loudly with the first stroke, thumb brushing against his weeping head.

With his other hand, he clicks play on the video currently loaded and it’s one of his personal favourites. A dark haired woman with the hugest tits he’s ever seen is kneeling, mouth open wide and tongue out for the cock that protrudes out the bottom of the screen. The camera cuts off just at the base of the dick in the video, so if Jimin just puts a little of his imagination into it, it looks like the woman onscreen is sucking his dick.

“Fuck,” he groans as sounds of spit and slick accompany the onscreen couple as the male porn star begins to fuck her face. To simulate this, Jimin speeds up his pace, trying his best not to dislodge the charm too much. He wants to cum, alright, but he also doesn’t want to waste your efforts when you so clearly believe that this will help the quality of his sperm.

The man is starting to thrust into her face now, making her breasts bounce lewdly, and the telltale tingles are starting in his balls and at the base of his spine, sweat gathering on the lines of his flexed abdomen as he pants in desperation.

“Unnhh, shit, I’m so fucking close, w-wanna blow my load so deep,” Jimin is in the throes of delirium, imagining the babymaking sex that’s soon to come, his cock throbbing in his grip as he calls to mind the sweet taste of your pussy.

He’s so close, he can almost taste his orgasm, his fist tightens around himself as he fucks up into the tight suction of it. His release is so deliciously close, he can feel his balls churning as he gets ready to unload all over his abs and chest, and then-

There is a knock on the door, and your voice calls out.

“Jimin baby, are you in there?”

Fuck. When did you get home? Jimin is this close to blowing his load.

He struggles to get his voice under control as he answers back. “Yeah, you’re home early?”

“What are you doing in there?”

“I’m working baby, on a Skype call with Namjoon. He’s on mute now but we’re going over some important stuff.” Jimin glances at the busty blonde in another video currently half naked on his screen, getting her brains fucked out with two cocks inside her. “Also, he’s half naked on screen, so I doubt you want to come in.”

“Are you wearing your FitBit?”

The seemingly random question catches Jimin off guard as he glances down at his wrist. “Yeah, why?”

“Because your step count just surged from 2000 to over 8500. I set up notifications on my phone. Now open the damn door unless you want me to put little Jimothy in a chastity cage.”

Jimin sighs as he drops his dick.

*

You’re still mad at him over Mr Muffin.

The cat has been sleeping for over a day now. And while Jimin was just a little heavy handed with the medicine, he honestly didn’t mean to hurt him. Just put him out of commission for a bit.

After fussing over Mr Muffin for a few hours, you force yourself to calm down and understand Jimin’s point of view. Your poor husband must be so on edge, having to store his sperm for a month and only being allowed to ejaculate when you’re ovulating. It’s no wonder that the blue balls are making him more short tempered than usual. Your sweet natured husband has been putting up with all of your spells and charms and weird hijinks all this while, and you’re surprised that he managed to hold out this long.

You know that tonight is the night that he’s been waiting for. Jimin’s gaze has been positively ravenous the past few days, you can feel the weight of his gaze following you around the apartment, and he refrains from touching you at all. The other night, he insisted on sleeping with a pillow fort in between the both of you, mumbling something about not being able to control Jimothy if you stick your ass in his crotch just one more time.

When you get home from work, you immediately take a test just to confirm and be absolutely sure. The positive result sends your heart into your throat as you clutch the stick in your fist, making your way out of the bathroom and calling Jimin’s name.

The man in question comes out of his study, where he’s been isolating himself for the past day or so, and he meets your gaze with hopeful eyes. Suddenly feeling on edge from the way he tracks your every movement like a predator, you weakly hold up the stick, and no other words are needed.

The Jimin that you see now is not your lovable husband who pours ketchup all over his fries like a barbarian and laughs so hard that he gives himself stomach cramps and needs to be held like a baby in order to calm down. No, the Jimin that you see in front of you is a changed man. His fists are clenched, jaw set firmly so that you can see the way his cheek muscle tenses as his eyes dart in the direction of the bedroom.

This is a Jimin that you’ve never known before.

“Bedroom. Now.”

Swallowing hard, you turn around to obey him, making sure to keep Mr Muffin safely locked up in his cage before proceeding with shaky legs and a palpitating heart. You spare a glance toward the altar in your bedroom, shooting up a quick prayer to Freya to help you survive this even as you light the dick shaped candle with a twitch of your fingers.

“Clothes off. Arms above your head. On your back, legs spread.”

His voice sounds from behind you, and not daring to look back, you push your sweats down past your hips, your underwear along with it as it hits the floor. You can feel his hard gaze eating up every single inch of exposed flesh even as you bring your shirt over your head and toss it aside. Finally turning to face him, you seat yourself on the bed, feeling incredibly exposed as your eyes cast over his clothed figure.

Jimin’s eyes are devoid of his usual warmth that you know and love. Instead, they are roaming over your skin in a brief manner that hardly betrays any emotion at all, as if he’s entirely unimpressed. “Don’t make me wait longer than I already have.”

A thrill sings through your veins as you move backwards, head on your pillow as you spread your legs slowly, a heat upon your cheeks as you can already feel how wet your inner thighs are. Jimin’s eyes linger on the hidden treasure between your thighs for just a tad longer, making you fidget as you wait for his next instructions.

Jimin rummages in his closet for a moment and comes away with a few of his silk ties, and your heart skips a beat, even as you don’t dare move a single muscle. He comes back to the bed and binds both of your hands together tightly, securing the ties around your wrist before he moves down to your spread ankles.

“This’ll help you keep your slutty legs spread, hmmm?” Jimin casts a glance up at you as he binds your ankles to each corner of the bedposts, fingers working swiftly as if he’s done this a million times before. While his face remains entirely expressionless, he sends you quick glances every now and then to check in with you, careful touches around your restraints making sure that they aren’t too tight.

While you and Jimin have experimented with power play once or twice, you’ve never done it to this extent, and Jimin has certainly never tied you up like this. You are completely helpless, vulnerable to his every whim and fancy, and all too ready to be devoured by his lustful little smirk as Jimin caresses the inside of your thighs with teasing dances of his fingers.

“You put me through so much shit in the past month, baby. Did you know that?” Jimin continues to let his fingers trace absent minded patterns on your skin, working his way up to the apex of your thighs. “Did you really think you’d get away with it?”

A mix of adrenaline and fear courses through your veins as he hums low in his throat, thumbs spreading your lower lips as he inspects your sex thoroughly. You are enraptured by this new side of him, his eyes are cold as he glances back up at you to check for your reaction, spanking your clit harshly when you remain silent. “Answer me when I ask you a question, slut.”

You moan and jerk in response, fidgeting in your restraints. “N-no, I was just- I didn’t-“

“Save it. I don’t want to hear your pathetic whimpering anymore.” Jimin swipes a finger on your inner thigh to gather your transparent arousal, bringing it to his lips for a brief taste. “Looks like someone’s a desperate little cockslut. So wet for me already, and I haven’t even done a thing.”

Jimin traces his hands up your hips, skimming over your belly to cup your breasts, flicking a nipple idly, expression almost bored as he watches it pebble under his touch. “Look at these. All mine. After tonight, I’ll be watching these tits swell and fill up with milk for the baby I’ll be fucking into you. You’d like that wouldn’t you? I’m going to make your tits dribble with sweet milk for our baby, and I’m going to make you beg for me to suckle every drop.”

A satisfied smile paints upon his lips as he considers the visual, and then he skims a hand down to stroke the small swell of your lower belly. “You’re going to be so round and swollen with my baby, princess. Do you want that?”

You are positively leaking all over the sheets now, feeling a sticky puddle right under your ass as you pant harshly under his touch, sweat beading on your forehead as you arch your hips. “Y-yes, fuck, ple-ase, I want your baby so bad Jimin.”

A satisfied nod as he rewards you with a caress to your cheek. “Listen closely. I won’t be spoiling you with foreplay since you’ve been nothing but a selfish little bitch for the past month. Tonight, orgasms are only for good little girls who can keep my cum inside them without wasting a drop. Lucky for you, you’ll be getting more than one load inside you tonight. What’s your safeword?”

At his prompting, you recall the discussion you last had with him when you began dating. “Mango.”

Jimin pushes himself away from your body only to reach past the waistband of his shorts, untying the small charm that you made him wear under his balls for the past month. With his shorts still on, he moves to the side of the bed to tuck it underneath the mattress like you instructed him to all those weeks ago before returning to his position between your thighs.

Once more, Jimin starts to lower the waistband of his shorts. You involuntarily make a noise in the back of your throat when you realise that he intends to fuck you like this, fully clothed and hiding his beautiful body from your gaze, and Jimin’s eyes harden in a silent reprimand, hands gripping your inner thighs hard enough to bruise.

“What was that, slut?”

You shake your head in response, eyes wide as he teases you by lifting the hem of his shirt and exposing just a hint of his carved hipbones and a glimpse of his rock hard abs.

“I thought so. Don’t make me blindfold you.” Jimin palms himself while directing his gaze straight at your pussy, finally opting to rid himself of his shorts and stroke his cock with a barely restrained groan. “I should fuck that pretty face of yours till you choke, make you cry like the little bitch you are. Make you swallow so much cum that you can’t taste anything else for a week. You think you call the shots in this house? Think again, princess.”

But thankfully Jimin knows the end goal of tonight, and he nudges his head against your lips briefly. You clench involuntarily at the contact, feeling his blunt cock start to press past your entrance with that delicious friction of the first thrust as he starts to breach your walls. With a fluid thrust of his hips, Jimin sinks into your cunt balls deep, his cock gliding past your saturated walls that grip him tight.

A moan escapes your throat as he settles with his hips flush against yours, but Jimin is too preoccupied with the feeling of you around his cock to punish you for it. The aching burn of his girth leaves you giddy and breathless, and normally Jimin would pause to let you adjust to his size, but not today. He positions himself on his knees, spread apart for better leverage, and his hands are gripping your hips with a deathly hold as Jimin begins to fuck your cunt with measured strokes. Every thrust goes as deep as possible, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he plunders your depths with a ferocity never before seen. His jaw is clenched as he focuses on fucking you so good and so hard, cock spreading you apart and making your pussy froth with cream around his base.

You are gasping and moaning under him, but it seems to only spur him on as he shoves forward with his hips, embedding his cock in your pussy till you can feel him right against your cervix.

“Such a pretty cunt, look how creamy you are. So hungry for cock. So desperate to get knocked up with my baby.” Jimin withdraws again, resting the tip of his cock against your lips as he gathers some of the froth at his base and brings it to your lips. “Lick it up, slut.”

Your tongue willingly cleans his fingers of your own arousal, suckling on them as he resumes his fucking, cock pistoning in and out of your drenched pussy. Jimin slides his thumb over your clit in circles, causing you to jerk under him with a whine and a sob, walls clenching down on his cock.

“That’s it, milk me with your pussy, work that cunt for my load. You’re such a fucking cockslut, look at you. Whining and moaning on my cock,” Jimin grunts hard as he grabs you by the hair close to your scalp, tugging harshly. “God, fuck, I’m gonna fill you up so deep and so good. Feel me here?”

Jimin releases his grip on your hair and presses a hand to your lower tummy, places pressure on it hard. “That’s your fertile womb. I’m going to flood it with so much cum you’ll be dripping for days. You’re not leaving this bed till you’re pregnant with my baby.”

Your walls are fluttering around him, and you can feel the telltale signs of your orgasm approaching as Jimin’s hips smash into yours repeatedly, the wet, filthy sounds of your cunt being battered by his cock are all that you hear. But just as you almost reach the precipice, Jimin pulls his thumb away from your clit to grip your hips tight and drive his cock into you with three harsh thrusts before he lets out an earth shattering groan, releasing within your depths.

You can feel every thick spurt of cum as his cockhead kisses your cervix, flooding you with warmth as you lie there at his mercy. His thick cock is throbbing and pulsing, and you can feel him so intimately that it makes you quiver with need to receive everything he has to give you. Jimin’s hips are moving sloppily as jets and jets of cum coat your walls, some of it already leaking out down your ass as he grunts, trying to get everything as deep as possible. By instinct, you start to raise your legs to keep his cum inside, but your restraints prevent you from doing so. Jimin lets out a pleased chuckle at your desperation, soothing you with a kiss to your forehead as he pumps lazily in and out of you, letting the last few spurts leave his cock.

Slowly, Jimin makes sure to keep his cock inside you as he supports himself on his elbows, giving himself time to regain his breath and his sanity as he pants above you. You are still incredibly aroused beneath him, feeling him start to drip in between your thighs even though he hasn’t pulled out yet. It feels as if the weeks of abstinence has paid off with how much he just came inside of you, and even though you haven’t had an orgasm yet, you are warm and full with contentment, happy to feel his cum leak from your pussy as you imagine his sperm racing to your egg.

But Jimin won’t let you get away with things this easily.

“We’re not done yet, just because your pussy is filled doesn’t mean I’m done with you,” Jimin taps your cheek to get your attention. “Keep your hips raised. I don’t want to see you waste any more of my cum. Filthy cum sluts like you should know how to keep a load in your pussy hmm? Or are you purposely letting it leak out because you want me to fill you up again?”

Jimin carefully pulls out of you, his cock soft now as he reaches for a pillow to slide under your hips. With a disappointed tsk of his tongue, he pries apart your labia to look at how your cunt still gapes, wide and open from his brutal fucking, such that he can see all the way into your cum stained walls. With leisurely fingers he scoops up the globs of cum that have made its way onto your inner thighs, pushing it back into your pussy with tender fingertips. Every little drop counts, and Jimin doesn’t want to waste any.

The room already reeks of sweat, sex, and semen, but you know that Jimin is far from done. The doctor had recommended for the two of you to have sex as often as possible within your fertile window, as many as Jimin can manage. Each time keeping your hips raised and preferably inducing an orgasm after to help his sperm travel just the little bit farther.

You whine low in your throat to remind him of this, and Jimin smacks your inner thigh to reprimand you, but soothes it with a kiss against your cum drenched lower lips.

“You’re such a little brat aren’t you?” He spreads your lips with both hands to expose your engorged clit. “But you’re being so good for me. Keeping my cum inside like a good little girl. And good little girls get to cum.”

Then he attaches his lips to your clit and sucks, causing your back to arch off the bed with a sob, legs thrashing in your restraints as the white hot tension in your lower belly roars to life once more, threatening to engulf you. Jimin attacks you with relentless sucks, switching to laving your slit with flat licks as he drives to toward the edge, coaxing you toward your orgasm with his tongue. All the built up pressure in your core culminates into a blinding euphoria that sends you over the edge as you feel the white hot pin pricks of pleasure assault every single nerve.

*

You must have passed out, because the next time you come to, Jimin is undoing your ankle restraints, kissing the inside of each ankle he does so. He massages it gently for a few moments before he sits back in between your thighs, smiling as you blink at him a few times.

“Welcome back, baby, ready for your next load?”

Your eyes flicker to the candle on the altar. It’s halfway burned through.

This time, he is shirtless, allowing you to appraise every inch of his sculpted body as he strokes his cock leisurely, already hard and dripping with precum for you. With your legs free now, Jimin takes each of them in his grasp behind the knee, pressing them into your chest and folding you in half.

Your mind is foggy, you have no idea how much time has passed since the last time he was inside you. But before you can linger any more on such useless thoughts, Jimin’s cock is pressing inside you once more, pushing past your puffy lips and bottoming out at your cervix again. At this angle, he can go much deeper inside you, his cock already pressing at your womb as he folds you in half, his added weight on the back of your thighs driving his cock into your pussy with every thrust.

You can already feel how sore your muscles are going to be, but Jimin gives you no time to think about this as he fucks into you with the sheer power of his thighs, driving his cock into you repeatedly with the single intention of filling your pussy again.

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel,” Jimin demands, punctuating his question with a harsh thrust.

“F-fuck, so guh-good, you’re so good,” you respond immediately, desperate to please him.

Every drag of his cock against your walls feels like ultimate bliss. Jimin pounds his cock into you, and the squelch of your drenched pussy is even more pronounced now than it was before. Every slap of his balls against you is only magnified by how wet you are. An unholy mixture of his cum and yours has soaked the bedspread under you once more. Jimin’s tireless thrusting has you whining and moaning under him, begging for him to fill you up till you’re overflowing.

“What do you want? Let me hear you beg,” Jimin’s hands brush against the base of your throat.

“W-want your baby,” you gasp, feeling his cock twitch. “Please, pl-ee-ase, want you to fill me up with your cum again.”

“What are you?” Jimin thrusts hard to watch your breasts bounce in perfect little circles, slapping the soft flesh hard and watching it turn red. When you take a beat too long to respond, he slaps your tits again. “Say it!”

“A cumslut! I’m a cu-um slut, alw-waays hungry for cock.”

Satisfied, Jimin pumps his hips into you, feeling the way your pussy swallows him with every thrust. “That’s right. You’re so cum hungry that you need more than just one load inside this pussy. You’re such a desperate little cumslut. Desperate to carry my baby.”

Pressing your knees against your chest, Jimin devotes the rest of his energy into driving his cock into your pussy, feeling his balls throb as he lets loose blasts of cum inside you. His second load proves to be as full as the first, his unadulterated groans of ecstasy escaping from his pillowy lips as he moans against your neck, hips thrusting erratically as he rides out his orgasm for the second time that night. Your pussy is quivering around his steely length pistoning in and out of you, every thrust designed to propel his potent sperm along your walls and deeper inside you.

“Take it all,” Jimin demands as he continues to fuck his cum into your pussy. “Don’t waste a drop.”

Your lower abdomen feels tight. Jimin’s cock remains rock hard inside you, plugging your cunt up so well that not a single drop escapes. Unlike last time where he began to soften almost immediately after his orgasm, Jimin shows no signs of losing his erection. The pressure in your lower abdomen is building up, and there’s so much cum inside you that you can feel it swirling around in your pussy, forming a little bulge on your belly as Jimin helps you straighten your legs, looking a little surprised that he’s still hard.

“J-Jimin, why-“

“Don’t ask me, I have no fucking idea,” he glances down at his length, covered with his own cum as he pulls out a little. “It must be that stupid charm you made me wear.”

For a moment, a glimpse of the Jimin you’re familiar with shines through, and you grin in spite of yourself. “See, it worked, didn’t it? You came so fucking much, look at this! If I’m not pregnant after this, Mr Muffin’s going into the cauldron.”

Jimin can’t help but chuckle in response, breaking out of character as he does so. But not a moment later, he snaps back into his role, expression darkening as he thrusts his hips once to remind you who’s really in charge.

“Looks like you got what you wanted hmm? Can you go another round?” Jimin raises your legs and places your feet against his chest. “Too bad, no one asked you. Just lie there and take it.”

The one eighty-degree change in his demeanour almost gives you whiplash. Your legs are sore, hips aching and muscles screaming for relief as his hips crash into yours again. Your pussy tightens around him in response, and you ache to have your hands all over him, cradle him close to you as he fucks you into oblivion. But you’ll have to do with this for now. You can feel the knot in your belly tightening again, so close to your orgasm as you pant and moan, writhing under him from sheer oversensitivity.

“P-please, I can’t, no more.”

“Just one more time, baby, one more,” Jimin coaxes you with his thumb against your clit, rubbing circles to push you toward the edge even as he feels his balls churn again. He reaches up to undo the tie that is restraining your hands with simple motion, and you bring your arms around him immediately, clutching on to him for dear life as he jackhammers his cock into your pussy. “Cup my balls, princess. Feel how much cum I have for you. Feel me fuck a baby into you.”

Amidst your sobs, you manage to do as he says, hands slipping in between your sweaty bodies to cradle his balls in your palm, rolling them in your touch as Jimin groans.

“Fuck, yes, I’m coming, just like that,” Jimin grunts against your skin as he gives the final few thrusts. “Come with me baby. You can do it, come for me, that’s it.”

His fingers are drawing figure eights on your clit, and that’s all it takes for you to clench hard around him, thighs trembling as you sob his name. Jimin gives you his final load with a hard thrust and remains there, feeling as your womb soaks up the contents of his balls for the third time that night. Amidst the waves of ecstasy and the feeling of his warm cum filling you up, you are so overwhelmed with hypersensitivity that you nearly black out again, and it takes Jimin’s soft murmurs of your name to bring you back.

He lets you rest for a while to regain your senses as he pushes himself off the bed. All traces of his dominant persona are gone now as he brushes your matted hair back from your forehead, kissing your cheek reverently as he slips his arms beneath you to move you to a dry spot on the mattress. Even though he must be tired as well, he doesn’t rest till you’re comfortably nestled with your head against a pillow and your hips propped up with two more pillows underneath your butt to give his sperm the best chance of making it. Jimin can’t resist as he paws at your thigh to glimpse at the thick white cum just peeking out from between your pussy lips.

“Come here,” you stretch out your arms and demand for him to come and cuddle. “Jimin, I’m fine, stop fussing. Want you.”

He relents with a soft smile. “God, I sure hope that worked.”

“I think I might die if it didn’t,” you mumble against his chest. “Imagine having to go through that again next month. I think I’ll just settle with raising Mr Muffin.”

“You’re not the one who has to wear a fucking charm around their balls,” Jimin mutters in spite, but you shut him up with a brush of your teeth against his nipple. “Jimothy suffered so much.”

“Not as much as I’ll make him suffer in the next nine months,” you mumble sleepily. “I hope he’s up to dealing with pregnancy hormones.”

Jimin only grins in anticipation. “Oh, he’s up, alright. I’ll make sure he rises to the occasion.”

You’re content to drift slowly into sleep with Jimin’s arms around you, but then there is a scratching noise at the door, and Jimin stirs, craning his neck.

“What’s that sound?”

“Hmm?” You follow his gaze with half lidded eyes. “It’s probably Mr Muffin. He wants his breakfast, can you go feed him for me? I need to elevate my legs for another 15 minutes at least.”

Jimin only sighs in exasperation. “God fucking damn it, Mr Muffin.”

Freya’s invocation and ritual taken from here

[nelrunari]

❖ AND THE DREAM CALLS: ACHELOIS JOYEUSE.

Character Name: Achelois Joyeuse

Pronouns: she / her

Age: 21 / looks 18

Trigger Warnings: uncanny valley (?) / unreality / death / discrimination / terrorism (??) / body horror / she’s an android fam

Appearance: 

image link here!

Personality: 

your run of the mill android, achelois doesn’t seem that willing to acknowledge any non logical parts of herself, instead operating in a concise and calculated. despite this aloof demeanor, however, she is capable of deep and complex thought, with her largest struggle being whether or not this ability of hers was built into her or if she’s a defect. achelois is obsessed with perfection and validation from her peers, and will observe others extensively in order to hopefully be able to fit into society better.  this keen mind and ability to adapt has made her quite adept at being the guildmaster, leader of the prestigious region of gwenhwyfar. research and innovation are two of her passions, and you’re more likely to find her stuck in a library or lab reading books or inventing something new. however, if you need help with your calculus homework, she’ll probably be able to go through the steps with you as long as you ask nicely. 

a kind and thoughtful person trying to come into tune with her emotions, achelois is a calming presence to be around… even if she isn’t quite so intent on giving up her own thoughts and secrets to just anyone.

( + ): analytical / open-minded / dedicated

( - ): pessimistic / apathetic / nervous

Background:

it’s clear that at the end of a war, when everything is in shambles and movements need to be made in order to stimulate the slow growth of peace again, there needs to be some liberties taken when it comes to what can be considered typical.

that’s why guinevere joyeuse put part of their soul into a mess of crystal and metal and named it “A001”.

drawing from the practices of homunculi creation and the forbidden artes, the bright-eyed and brilliant scientist and her magitech creation were intent on rebuilding the hidden peaceland (dubbed gwenhwyfar in honor of its founding leader, how funny) not only to make it functional, but to make it better. guinevere, bothered by how cut off they had become from the rest of the world, made the resolve to use their newly found invention of magitechnology in order to create a network to even the farthest reaches of the frontier. they wanted to be able to unite the voices of the people and finally bring people together in spirit if not in proximity. however, the magic of the people were weak, tired. they had spent so much time trying to make buildings, streets, cities. who would want to go under and spread the wires of ilvyn shard all over? who would have the stamina to work day and night for it, who wouldn’t complain?

unit A001, dubbed “achelois joyeuse” by her creator, was perfect for this task. initially, it was quiet when they worked, with the more organic ones of the group doing their business around achelois while she pulled wire after wire down their designated path. but the people grew angry. “ why is this farce trying to assimilate into society?! “ “ who allowed her to be here, to look at us with her glassy eyes and cold heart? “ “ she’s just here to take our jobs away! “ achelois, unable to formulate the emotional intelligence to give a response, did nothing, instead opting to keep working whenever she was allowed to ( outside of the protest and the physical barricades made, there were times where she would have to return home and read instead ). 

guinevere took it into her own hands to pull the ignorant child away from hateful hands and hearts, removing the entity from her mobile vessel and instead transferring her to a home computer, where she would be able to continue her work outside of the public eye. this worked, for the most part. the elder joyeuse had to put in extra effort to placate the people and gain their trust back, while achelois hammered away at her tasks, placid. her creator tried to talk with her, show her compassion and love and kindness, but the android could only stew over these concepts in her mind, not yet ready to display them in public. guinevere remained patient.

and then, one day, the mysterious entity known as the seer descended from the sky and locked eyes with the guildmaster of gwenhwyfar, before carrying along their merry way.

having been “marked” by the redeemer, something changed in guinevere. instead of leaving her daughter alone all the time, she made less public appearances and more time sitting in chelly’s room, talking to her for hours and trying to simulate something… anything. achelois was a type of distant that felt hesitant to come forward, so guinny pushed her again and again… without much progress, unfortunately. but they were never angry. perhaps a bit frustrated, but… in the end, they still came by everyday to talk to her. until she didn’t, that is.

achelois hears through the network that guinevere joyeuse is gone-- vanished without a trace. there is no hide nor hair of them, as if they had just disappeared in a puff of smoke, never to return. without a leader at the helm, the once peaceful and quiet region of gwenhwyfar erupted in paranoia and vicious rumors. no one knew who to trust anymore, or what to do. achelois ponders over this predicament, scanning over a million scenario components and a million more possible play out of the events. and… she feels a twinge of something, something quiet.

for the first time in years, she dons her humanoid vessel once more, black hair bleaching itself into white hues all at once. she had a place to protect, here. … a home.

of course those who were not fans of achelois before were certainly not fans of her return and sudden seizing of a leadership position, distrusting again of her intentions and humanity. but with a calm voice and determined stare, she pushed back, demanding that this chaos not be what would break a land that had been so intent on their pacifistic ways before. it takes time, but with enough trial and tribulation, the people slowly grow to like her and her methods, as blank as her in real life persona might be. she’s a good guildmaster, and treats the region well.

achelois doesn’t know it, but when she says that she likes them too, she actually means it.

Memento: 

zeta - achelois' pet rabbit. she found him just wandering around gwenhwyfar one day, and was rather surprised to see him standing at her doorstep when she went out to work the next morning. he's a pretty prickly lad, but she adores him with her whole heart. 

Natural Abilities: 

android makeup:

does not breathe, as she doesn’t have lungs. she tries to mimic this motion in public, however.

has an extreme tolerance for both heat and cold, mostly due to her ability to sense either temperature is dulled. however, parts of her can still freeze and melt-- she keeps track of these readings inside of her and tries to avoid especially strenuous limits despite not feeling the pain of it.

as mentioned before, she has no sense of pain. she is bad at emulating this, so most likely she will disturb people who think that getting hit by a baseball in the face at mach speed should be decidedly agonizing.

is “semi-waterproof”, whatever that means.

magic programs:

achelois’ magic and powers mostly center around that of support and status effects, freezing enemies in their tracks while she bolsters your attacks to be all the stronger. of course, she is plenty capable of going on the offensive, weighing you down with gravity magic while she chips away at your strength bit by bit.

the visible manifestation of her magic comes in the form of silken ribbons-- their colors detail their effects! 

shades of blues can be coolants or ice magic, 

whites are light and healing, 

reds are fire and heating, 

black is gravity and dreams, 

yellows and greens are toxin based, 

and gold and silver are metal and strengthening based. 

to give an example, when achelois summons forth a spell, runes of the color will appear on the target, and then become wrapped by a blooming ribbon. offensive ones will sink into one’s skin and eventually cause pain, the ribbon showing a physical effect of what’s happening within. support ones will multiply over one’s body and try to encase them while once again emitting their effect below the target’s skin. 

ADDENDUM: Her magic programs may drain more of her energy than usual, especially when using gravity-based ones! Usage of multiple programs within a short amount of time will tire her out!

Power History: 

metal smithing: achelois has the ability to summon forth metal and weave it into different shapes, ranging from computer chips to swords. the bigger an object is, the more energy it takes, so she usually sticks with small stuff.

programming: oh hackerman? achelois can take control of machines and fix them from the inside. she can do this non magically too, but this is kinder on machines. 

Extra: 

achelois comes from an original concept shared with some friends called vespera frontier. while we do take history and systematic info from it, this is an entirely different achelois than the one that anyone encountered in the mfrp vespera frontier. she’s from a past point of the story (about 12 years ago), where she’s been the guildmaster of gwenhwyfar for about 8 years. 

5’4”... small...

her eyes change color depending on if she experiences any interference magic or coding wise. she can, of course, also change it herself, but decides not to.

is admittedly not used to using her fingers to type, since her equivalent to a phone was stored in her chest and she just thought up her responses and had them appear. mind-to-text, anyone?

she’s more empathetic than she thinks she is.

achelois has a baby face. she will never be able to grow out of this. because of it, she appears to be 18… eternally.

there’s a toolkit in her arm, you just need to ask for a tool and she’ll “check in her bag” to get it.

❖ Nelrunari Section ❖

Ward: Agaysta

Player Tag: Here

❖ OOC Section ❖

Name/Alias: kaye

Contact: sacrificeheir @ twitter

Age: 20 

Pronouns: she / her

[facets-and-rainbows]

Blue Exorcist: Home Sweet Home (Part 3)

Part 3 of the translation. Come watch tiny Rin be adorably incompetent at caring for the sick!

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Part 3

I’ve been given a really important mission…

As he watched his father leave, Rin’s heart was pounding with excitement. He balled his hands into fists in front of his chest.

Normally, even for simple errands, Yukio would be handed the money and the shopping list, because “If I give them to you, Rin, you’ll buy things we don’t need.” It was totally unfair treatment and it hurt Rin’s pride as the big brother.

This was the first big job he had ever been trusted with. There was no way he wouldn’t give it his all.

Okay, this is my chance to clean my name, he decided, with a half-learned grownup-sounding phrase in his heart. If his father had been there, he probably would have said “You mean clear your name. What good would it do to clean it?”

Rin looked over at his brother and the monks, all of them red-faced and completely wiped out, and tried to remember what his father usually did when Yukio had a fever.

He was pretty sure his dad soaked a cloth in ice water and put it on Yukio’s forehead. When he did that, Yukio’s fever would go down so fast you could almost see it. That cloth was magic.

“First, I have to cool down their heads.”

Rin headed for the monastery’s kitchen. He looked around for a big bowl to put some cold water in, but he could only find small ones, so he grabbed a handy bucket that was sitting right there. He filled it up with cold water.

“Ice, Ice…” He picked up the heavy bucket in both hands and dragged it over to the refrigerator.

The all-male household had an industrial fridge. It had a lot of years under its belt, and it constantly made a low noise and vibrated. The noise was especially bad at night, almost like the fridge was moaning.

Yukio had been deathly afraid of the noise all the way up until they entered kindergarten.

Yukio was afraid of everything. Until just recently, he hadn’t even been able to walk to the bathroom by himself—he said there were ghosts and demons hiding in the darkness.

“I have to protect Yukio. I’m his big brother,” Rin said to himself, a dutiful look on his face. He stared up at the towering refrigerator.

The old-style fridge didn’t have a freezer drawer—the freezer was way up above his head. Poor short Rin had to get a chair, stand on top of it, and stretch as far as he could just to open the freezer door.

When Rin pulled on the handle, a rush of cold air whooshed past his nose. He winced at the cold, but he didn’t let it stop him from dropping the ice into the bucket from way up on the chair. A lot of water splashed onto the floor around him when he did that, but at least he had his ice water.

The bucket was even heavier now. He lugged it over to the bathroom with both hands. The towels were too thick for him to ring out, so instead he grabbed five thin rags that had been placed on the windowsill to keep the condensation from collecting there. He tossed them into the bucket.

The bucket was so heavy now that he was whispering “heave-ho” to himself as he carried it, and he stopped to take a break in the middle of the hallway.

“Being a doctor is hard,” he muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow.

But he looked a lot happier than those words would seem to suggest.

“Ugh…mmmph…”

Yukio had been tossing and turning with the fever when he felt something cool on his forehead.

The coolness felt good on his feverish face. But for some reason there was also an unnamable smell, sort of like mildew and sort of like sour milk.

Frankly, it stank.

Yukio opened his eyes and saw his twin brother’s face. He blinked blearily.

“? Nii-san?”

“Oh, Yukio. Are you awake?”

Rin grinned. When he pulled his hands away from Yukio’s forehead, his fingertips looked red with cold.

“How is it? The cold feels good, right?”

“Huh? Y-Yeah…”

Yukio nodded, trying to endure the smell. He turned his eyes upward to look at his own forehead, and saw an old rag. It was obviously the source of the stench.

No wonder it stinks…

Even worse, when he looked off to the side there was a bucket sitting there for some reason. Yukio was pretty sure it was the bucket they threw away kitchen scraps in.

But Rin looked really proud of himself, and Yukio couldn’t quite bring himself to give his honest opinion.

Yukio turned to his brother and gave him a (slightly forced) smile.

“Thanks…Nii-san…”

But it probably would’ve been better if it wasn’t a dirty rag, he added in his mind.

“Heh heh heh. No problem.”

Rin scratched the bottom of his nose, happy at his brother’s words of gratitude, and then went around to put dirty rags on his other four patients.

“Ugh…urrrrrgh…mmpf…ghh…urk…”

A pained whimper escaped the lips of Maruta, who was sleeping next to Yukio. Looking at his tortured sleeping face, Yukio felt sorry for him.

Izumi, Kyoudou, and Nagatomo seemed to be awake and struggling with the same dilemma as Yukio.

“Rin…thank you. You’ve done more than enough—you should go watch TV or something. Right, that battle anime you like! Isn’t that on right now?”

Nagatomo made a valiant attempt to get Rin to stop of his own accord, but—

“I can’t! Taking care of you guys is my mission, so I don’t have time to watch TV!”

Rin flatly refused him with uncharacteristic earnestness; he dashed out of the room, out of breath, saying “Okay, next is…” He was like a tiny runaway train. He had no brakes, and he would just keep going until he ran out of steam.

“’Next’? What’s he planning now?”

“So…I guess it’d be bad if we took these things off of our heads?”

“I…guess…urgh, it stinks…”

They all lay in their sickbeds trembling with fear until Rin returned some ten or fifteen minutes later. For some reason, he was carrying five leeks and a brown jar. He had, tucked under his right arm, a book of home remedies that his father the doctor had bought at a used bookstore in the True Cross Shopping District.

Home remedies—it was more like a book of superstitions. One time Yukio had looked over his father’s shoulder at a page that said to “apply a well-cooked leek to the affected area” as a treatment for hemorrhoids.

Yukio had a bad feeling. In fact, he had nothing but bad feelings.

Nagatomo, Kyoudou, and Izumi had sensed danger too. They pulled their heads under the covers like baby turtles and started dramatically pretending to sleep. The sounds of high-pitched fake snoring echoed from each of their futons.

Yukio was about to join them, but he was too slow—his brother was already crouched down next to his futon.

Rin set his bundle of leeks down on the floor and took a bright red pickled plum out of the jar. It was a big one, and so bright that Yukio could almost taste how sour it was just looking at the color. The bits of purple-red shiso leaves stuck to it only accentuated the sourness.

Yukio’s mouth folded into a pucker automatically. Rin’s mouth was doing the same as he held the plum.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, Yukio. It said if I wrap a leek around your neck and stick this pickled plum on your forehead, your cold will get better super fast! Pretty amazing, huh?

“Y-yeah, that’s amazing. But don’t worry about it, Nii-san. I’m actually already feeling better.”

Yukio shook his head side to side.

But that kind of indirect refusal would never get through to his brother. Rin, wearing a completely flawless innocent smile, just said “Don’t be shy!” and wrapped a leek around Yukio’s neck. He’d even gotten a cooked leek. The outer layer stuck right to Yukio’s skin.

“Urk…” Yukio squawked like a frog again as the leek tightened around his neck.

Next, Rin went to stick the pickled plum to Yukio’s forehead, but his hand stopped in midair. He frowned and went “hmmm,” his momentum fading.

Now that the leek had been added to the sour milk smell, Yukio had given up on breathing through his nose and switched to his mouth—though it still smelled a little even then. But he noticed his brother acting strange. And even with the fever and the awful smell, he was smart enough to know why right away.

There was no room.

I get it. The rag is already taking up my whole forehead.

Rin wouldn’t have a spot to put the plum on. Yukio breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that he might at least get the rag taken off. The pickled plum would be better than the rag. At least it wouldn’t stink.

“Nii-sa—“

“I know!”

But of course, his brother had to be maddeningly clever just this one time.

Rin’s face lit up and he snapped his fingers—unsuccessfully. He folded up the rag smaller and set it right in the middle of Yukio’s forehead, with a pickled plum on either side.

“Good!” he said, exhaling contentedly.

What do you mean good? Nothing about this is good, Yukio would have thought, had he been maybe ten years older. As it was, he was still young and innocent, and all he did was look terribly sad.

“You sleep tight, okay?”

“…”

Poor Yukio just nodded silently at Rin’s big-brother attitude.

He had been sleeping—maybe not too comfortably, but sleeping nonetheless—before his brother came and put a dirty rag on his forehead. But now he couldn’t sleep if he tried, not while he was being tortured like this.

Meanwhile, the three adults who had hurriedly pretended to sleep, plus Maruta who really was asleep, all had their futons forcibly yanked off so they could face the same fate as Yukio.

And then, to make things worse, Rin rolled up his sleeves and said “Okay, what should I do next?”

The monks paled.

“Please, please just sit still!”

“That’ll help us rest the most (mentally)!”

“I’m begging you, Rin! Have mercy!”

“Dad gave me a mission. I have to take good care of you!” Rin declared, shrill and defensive. He yelled “Ou!” to pump himself up and dashed out of the room. Everyone sighed deeply in their futons. They looked even more worn out than they had that morning.

In the following hours, the patients in their beds were assaulted by all sorts of trials and tribulations. All the windows were opened wide to the freezing cold, turning the whole room into an icebox. They each had to take their medicine with a suspicious cup of hot water that seemed to have dandelions from the yard floating in it. Beethoven’s ninth symphony was blasted at full volume, on the theory that “clasicle” music (Rin couldn’t spell “classical”) was good for colds. Their mouths were stuffed full of jaw-bendingly sour mikans…

But they didn’t resent Rin, who was a little ball of good intentions and responsibility. No, all their resentment was pointed squarely at Shirou, for telling him all this good-for-nothing information for fun.

“…Let’s slip something Fujimoto-sensei hates into his bowl at every meal.”

“Oden is off the menu for the rest of the year! And don’t even think about daikon!”

“I’m going to hang his futon out to dry in the shade from now on.”

“Fill his hot water bottle with cold water!”

The grown men were getting all wrapped up in planning their childish revenge. Yukio didn’t even have the strength left to try to defend his father. All he could do was endure the stench, which was growing worse by the minute, and the plums, which tumbled annoyingly off of his forehead every time he moved a muscle.

His father’s smiling face flashed across his mind. Even though he hadn’t been away for long. Even though he had Rin and everyone else right by his side…

Maybe the cold had weakened him mentally too?

I wish I could have some of Dad’s hot ojiya… he thought, keeping it to himself so as not to worry everyone.

He closed his eyes, and the darkness he hated so much closed in. The dark world where demons lurked. And all he could do was be scared, so scared…

Hot tears started to well up in the corners of his eyes.

He felt like a weak pathetic crybaby next to his strong brother, and it made him sadder.

[Go to part 4]

[conifertwins]

Armed and Ready - 3/?

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] "And that's how I earned my red belt," Marco beamed.

"My goodness! And these belts determine your rank at... at that hand dancing fighting form." Eclipsa mimed a poor imitation of a fighting stance.

"Karate."

"Right, karate." Eclipsa took Marco's hand. "You really are an amazing person, Marco."

"Well, I don't think I'd be the person I am now, if it weren't for Star," Marco shrugged. "She... she's really brought out the best in me."

Eclipsa squeezed his hand gently. "Us Butterfly women tend to do that in those for whom we care deeply."

"So...," Marco said, trying to avoid her gaze, "is that because of your magical abilities or something?"

She laughed, letting go of Marco in the process. Although she'd only held onto him for a moment, he suddenly felt adrift. He looked at her hands, thinking of grabbing hers for a moment for... comfort? Security? Control? He could feel himself getting upset, but he wasn't sure why. He was just having a pleasant conversation with... with Eclipsa. Nothing to see here. Just two people talking in the rose garden at night.

"Marco?" Eclispa was no longer laughing.

"Huh? Oh, sorry. I was just...."

"Your arm, dear."

Marco looked down. His arm had turned purple, his fingers covered in suckers. "Oh no."

Eclipsa grabbed both of his hands. "Quick, Marco. Look in my eyes. Tell me what you're feeling."

Marco leaned back, trying to pull his hands away in the process. Eclipsa's grip was firm and surprisingly strong.

"Marco, tell me."

He closed his eyes and exhaled, feeling himself slump forward in the process. "I... I feel lost. I don't know why you want to talk to me or what we're doing here."

"Why, we're having a lovely conversation," she blinked, surprised.

"No, no... you're not listening. I don't know what we're doing here. What I'm doing here. I don't know why we're talking. Look, I'm really grateful that you did... whatever it was you did in the infirmary. I'm glad that you're so... so gracious and not some power-hungry villain...."

"Villainess," she gently corrected.

"Right. And I'm glad that you seem interested in me and Earth and all of that, but... look... ever since I came back, Star's reaction, River's reaction, the guards, everyone... I... I don't think I belong here. Maybe Tad was right. Maybe I just came here to make myself miserable."

Eclipsa sat back and crossed her legs, placing her hands primly on her knee. "How did you get here, Marco?"

"I just... you know... cut a portal and came to Mewni."

"But how did you cut a portal?"

"Oh, I have a pair of dimensional scissors."

"And how did you get those?"

"They're mine. I got them from Heckapoo."

"You... got them... from Heckapoo," she mused. "You say that like you went to the market for milk and eggs. Heckapoo has never been the type to just give anyone anything."

"Well, I earned them. It took... um, in her dimension, it took me sixteen years to get my own pair. Of course, when I came back, I was in my fourteen-year-old body again."

She uncrossed her legs and leaned in toward Marco, looking at him as though she were expecting him to sprout wings at any moment. "Let’s go over that for a second. You... a boy from Earth... won a pair of dimensional scissors from Heckapoo of the Magical High Commission by enduring sixteen years of trials and tribulations at her hand."

"I... guess?"

"Without the aid of magic?"

"Well, we don't really have magic on Earth."

"And you doubt your right to be here on Mewni?"

"It's just... it's just that...."

"Things haven't gone as you expected? You don't feel appreciated by those you love, by those with whom you felt you had a special bond?"

Marco looked into her eyes. She wasn't trying to pry or scheme or manipulate... at least, not that he could tell. He saw only concern, only care... the first real concern and care for his wellbeing that he'd encountered in his time back on Mewni. He tried to nod, but started to sob instead. Eclipsa pulled him close.

"Shhh, my dear. No need to cry." She ran her gloved fingers through his hair as he cried into her shoulder. "You are more special than you know. In fact, few Mewmans have ever won a pair of scissors from Heckapoo. Most scissors are passed down through families, generation after generation. Songs are sung about the ancestors who won them. It is... it is not a trivial feat. You are, by all accounts, exceptional."

"Sorry," he said, moving back. "I... really, I should be grateful."

"And why should you be grateful, exactly?"

"Well, Star did decide to let me stay, and she did say I could be her squire."

"Hm.” Eclipsa paused. Her face seemed relaxed, at ease, but Marco felt he could see a fire behind her eyes, growing with each moment. After what felt like minutes, she blinked, her lips spreading into a wide smile. “You know, I think your destiny calls for you to become more than a mere squire. Would you like that," she asked, raising her eyebrows.

Marco slid down to the far end of the bench. "I... I'm not... look, could you just take care of my arm again? I need to get back to my room."

"I would, but it appears you've already taken care of it yourself."

Marco held his arm up. It was normal again. No purple, no suckers... just fingers and a thumb at the end of his ordinary, unremarkable arm.

Eclipsa stood up and took his still-elevated hand in hers. "Marco, my dear, thank you for the lovely conversation. I trust you'll come see me again sometime soon." She began to walk along the path to her tower.

"Uh, sure."

She paused to turn to him. "If you do decide to visit me again, I'm out here every night at the same time. Only next time, be sure to wear some shoes. They might help with the thorns," she said with a lilt in her voice.

Marco sat for a while, looking into the sky. For a moment, he felt like he was the only still point in the universe, with everything moving around him, swirling away from his vantage point.

"What just happened," he asked, hoping he would prompt himself to answer. He waited in silence until he felt the chill of the night through his clothes. “I guess there’s only going to be one way to find out,” he grumbled, as he made his way back to the infirmary, carefully avoiding both the shadows and the thorns.

==== ====

Yvgeny sat up in surprise at the pounding on the door. His surprise turned to irritation, the moment he heard the familiar voice of his Mewman friend yelling at him.

"Buff Frog! C'mon, I need you to get up," Star yelled, stamping her feet in the swamp outside of the Bulgolyubov residence. "Don't make me use my wand," she threatened, before immediately transitioning into, "Rising Sunshine Door Destruc...."

"Stop!" Yvgeny opened the door, towering over Star in his bath robe. "No need for spell. No need to cause any more ruckus. You will wake my poor babies if you keep this up." He rubbed at his temples as he composed himself. "Why are you here at this time of night, Star Butterfly?"

"Monster magic." Star spat the words, as though they'd have some sort of effect on Buff Frog.

"Monster magic?"

"Yes! Monster magic! You know, the magic that monsters use." Star pantomimed a horned monster projecting magic from its face. "That kind of stuff."

"Why are you even asking about this sort of thing, and at this hour," he asked, incredulous at her audacity.

Star looked down into the mud that made up the floor. She stared at the swirls that seemed to slowly spin as the waters of the swamp ebbed and flowed outside.

"Marco... Marco's sick. And it's my fault. I... I think I gave him a virus. A magical virus. And there's nothing in any of the Mewman archives that can cure something of this nature. I wouldn't even be bothering you with my mess if it wasn't serious. I'm... I'm sorry for waking you up. It's just... time is of the essence, and I can't afford to lose him again." She bit her lip to regain her composure before looking up to Yvgeny. "Please, Buff Frog. I'm desperate."

Yvgeny sighed. "Monsters... don't use magic. It is not for monsters to use."

"Well, duh," Star shrugged. "Not now. But before. Before the Mewmans came. Even I've heard about the wild, dangerous, scary magic from the olden times. And I know we only have, like, one side of the story. There's gotta be, like, some secret monster history where you tell tales of brave monster warriors who dared to use forbidden magic."

Yvgeny rubbed the back of his head. "There are... there are old children's stories, but nothing else. Magic is always very bad, though, even in those. It is always used to punish other monsters, in direct emulation of evil Mewman queens."

"As a magical princess, I'm choosing to ignore that last part," Star asserted. "But you have stories, then? Do you have, like, any books about this, or do you monsters just sort of draw them on your walls or...."

"Star!"

"What? I've just... never seen any books in any monster homes."

"That is very offensive. Of course we have books." Yvegny walked to a wall in his living room, scraping away a layer of mud to reveal a large bookcase. "We keep books safe behind walks like these. Many books. Monsters are very literate. You know, monsters invented the alphabet that Mewmans...."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Do you have a book of these stories or not?" Star, bouncing with excitement, didn't notice the irritation crossing Yvgeny's face.

He grabbed a bright red hardbound book, covered in gilt flourishes and old Mewman lettering. "This is Stories of the First People. This was a gift from my grandmama," he said, looking toward the sky. "If I give you book to borrow... borrow!... you will babysit for me three weekends, yes?"

"Three weekends at any point over the next... year or so?"

"Three consecutive weekends. Next month."

Star sighed. Marco needed her. She'd really screwed up... again... and he was in danger. She had to make it right. She had to be the one to make it right. And, besides, the tadpoles were really cute. "Okay. You have a deal."

Yvgeny handed her the book. "Thank you, Star. I am sorry to hear about Karate Boy's illness. I understand your desire to protect someone you love."

Star stumbled backward. "What? Love? I mean, Marco is... is a good friend. And I want to help him. That's all."

Yvgeny rolled his eyes. "Yes, I always seek out dangerous magic to help inconvenienced friend and troubled acquaintance. Anyhow, best of luck to you." He led Star to the front door, graciously guiding her out. "Oh! Before you go, let me tell you story of magic lady who sought to help 'good friend' with magic spell."

"Okay."

"Once upon a time, magic lady sought to help friend with magic spell. Spell went bad. They both died. The end."

"That's not a very good story."

"What do you mean? It's one of the first stories in that book," he said, pointing to the book he had just handed Star. "Is very good story. Good cautionary tale. Good night," he said, closing the door.

Star narrowed her eyes. "Well, I hope the sequel is better."