#the tree exists for more than you just sitting under it but that doesnt take away the value of that peaceful moment any less

[sylvasystem]

Never forget, things likw your gender and sezuality aren't supposed to be a mark in a checkbox - they're a part of your human experience.

Question it.

Live through new experiences time and time again.

Allow yourself the space to be curious.

Life isn't about marking off boxes of defining traits; it's about experiencing the unexperienced and allowing yourself to grow and BE, through everything.

[quaranmine]

Hi yeah its me again, sorry for the spam, not my fault you made cool and inspiring stuff. This time actually, i couldnt help myself and have made a short crackpodfic of an alternative universe which is basically 'AU where Mumbo is frolicking in the wild and Grian doesnt exist cause itd be too sad for him to do so, so hes gone.' Its stupid, ist badly written (literally my first ever creative writing work other than a 300 word school asignment) but like idk. if you dont want to or cant read it (cause its so bad and burns your eyes out) you can just not read it xd idc honestly but decided to maybe give you the choice of reading it or not. Excuse my weird and unusual ways of writing dialougue and monolouges This is part 1 of 3

Jellie meowed cutely, demanding for food most likely just as a familar figure walked into his cabin. —Oh Hello Cub! It's wonderful to see you again! How was the trail, you're earlier than usual, no? — Scar exclaimed happily, looking at the sweaty man now standing before him. The air was hot, the many glass windows of the watchtower could make a great greenhouse. The open windows allowed for a warm flow of the early summer's air to pass by and refresh the mostly closed space. —Hey hey. Yeah the traffic was better than usual, but there was more sand in on the trail today. I think it could be the Sahara desert dust that was supposed to get carried in with the wind. — Cub said, taking his backpack off and pulling out a rag to wipe his head off. No matter how many times he hikes through this trail it never gets much easier. — Oh, Cub. The Sahara desert was blowing on Europe! And also it's the 80s and this specific situation you're referencing is gonna happen in late March of the year 2024! That's at least 35 years into the future! —Oh yup I forgot. Sorki bout that —Cub, you silly silly man! — Scar said in a singsong tone. Both of them started laughing and looked straight into the readers eyes, smiling.  Hi reader they both thought and went back to laughing looking at each other. — Actually, Scar, while hiking I heard some tourists talking about some newfound cryptid roaming these parts, what's up with that? – Eh nothing special, some bikers saw a 'humanoid lanky bugman' or something. — The man said — I've seen it all over, people come, they see a black bear or a deer in the shadow and think it's a newfound species. But honestly! I gotta give credit to the bikers relating said encounter cause the guys were better than most at storytelling! The missing food cans, rustling in the bushes all around them, the feeling of being watched.. Truly creepy stuff! And then — Scar took in a breath, talking so much in one long exhale left him almost dizzy —the moment when they saw it fully...They described it as 'particularly lanky with black fur' and something about purple-pinkish fingertips as well as residue on its paleish naked face with a weirdly shaped snout. 'Like a Walrus' they said! A crazy comparison for a bear, but you know, human mind can do wonders! — Scar clapped at the last statement and closed his eyes smiling charmingly at his companion who was now drinking the rest of his water.. After a while, comfortable silence filled the watchtower as both of the men enjoyed eachothers company. Jellie was now purring against scars leg and promptly jumped on his lap demanding more pets as Cub had finally spoken up — Any new paintings done in the meantime? I don't recognise these two, are they new or recycled? — He asked, curiosity clear in his voice, lookin at the, indeed, two new paintings decorating the cabin. One of them depicting a landscape with a sunset. From where Cub was sitting, he could watch the same, now hidden under an overcast, mountains and trees. The other painting was of a group of three tufted titmice sitting on a branch. Cub took out his American bird field guy and read a couple of paragraphs to scar on what kind of bird has he drawn exactly. It's weird that he saw these birds cause apparently they don't live in that part of the US! Crazy.

HELPPPPP this is completely insane the best way, thank you. Love that Grian doesn't exist here because it'd be too sad for him. Love the fever-dream quality to the writing. In all the best ways you're taking me back to the crack fics I'd read on ff.net in 2013, it's great. Love the breaking the fourth wall abou the Sahara dust and the (assuming) European birds. You've got a certain hint of Douglas Adams flavoring happening with the switching to an "above" perspective for a moment to give a wry little fourth-wall comment.

Mumbo Jumbo, new forest cryptid. I can see it. If Hermitcraft!Mumbo eats redstone, do you think forest cryptid!Mumbo would eat like...rocks??? dlfjskfljslkfs

[pastanest]

if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to the very lovely friends who have relentlessly sifted through tumblr archives to recover them, thank you all so much!! ♡

Legolas & Aragorn - You Give Him The Silent Treatment

Legolas

- emotional cues are a little difficult for elves

- at first, Legolas doesnt even register that he’s done something to upset you. he assumes that for whatever reason, you want your own space for a while, and he doesnt mind that

- the tension between the two of you in passing is utterly lost to him, he genuinely doesnt even feel it because he’s an oblivious boy

- it’s only when his father, King Thranduil, alerts him of the situation that Legolas begins to understand

“The two of you had a disagreement and you refused to look at her while you were watching the hills, is this true?”

“Yes.”

“My son, when you talk to your love with eyes that linger anywhere but her, it will raise doubts from the grave that then torment her mind.”

“Oh.”

“Indeed.”

- Legolas went on a mission to find you after that, and it didnt take him long

- you were sitting under a tree, reading a book of spells

- Legolas sat down in front of you

“Melamin(My love), are you alright?”

- you hummed in response, refusing to lift your gaze from the book

- Legolas sighed

“I am deeply sorry for the pain I have caused by being so oblivious to your feelings, it was not my intent. Human emotion is a subject I am yet to master, but I am sure that verbal communication could resolve this, so what do you say?”

- you didnt say anything. you slammed your book shut, stood up and walked away from him

- alarm bells rang inside the young elf’s head, this was far worse than he anticipated

- he ran after you and grabbed your wrist with determination, but enough sense to be gentle in his gesture

“Please, do not part with me when the storm still follows you.”

- it was your turn to sigh

“What is there to say? You thought you resolved the issue of ignoring me in sight by ignoring me in every other sense.”

- Legolas finally understood, you felt neglected

“Lirimaer(Lovely one), I have been a dreadful partner to you in allowing you to believe such falsehoods. There is no existence I treasure more than yours! I swear on my mother’s last breath, I will do everything to show my adoration in further ways that you understand.”

- you turned to face him, your eyes finally meeting his for the first time in a week

- you smiled, and his heart sang songs of pure bliss as he pulled you into his arms

“Will you give me the opportunity to prove that I am worthy of caring for your heart?”

“Legolas, proving that would be fruitless; my heart is yours for eternity regardless of your actions.”

“Then I will do well to make that a blessing rather than a burden.”

Aragorn

- your relationship with Aragorn remained a secret during the time spent with the Fellowship

- you didnt want to be recognised as a distraction to Aragorn or a tag-along, you wanted to be treated as an equal member of the team

- but in keeping your relationship a secret, Aragorn was a free man to any woman’s eyes, including Éowyn

- considering the circumstances, you had no right to be angry at her advances, but they boiled the blood in your veins to a heat even that Balrog couldnt stand

- the final straw came when your beloved drank from a goblet presented to him by Éowyn, and once he had gone, her uncle congratulated her on establishing a romance with Aragorn

- you stormed out of the bar and Aragorn ran after you, the streets of Rohan were quiet while every voice that resided there was hollering in the bar, meaning there was no reason to hide

- Aragorn ran in front of you and stopped, holding your shoulders and trying to read your countenance as you avoided his eyes

“My love, what vengeance is it that fuels you this night?”

- you just shook your head and tried to break free from his grasp, Aragorn frowned

“You wish to escape me, am I the source of your rage?”

- you scoffed and lifted your gaze to look at him with fire in your eyes

“Your ‘love’ is among the sea of voices concealed by those walls, is she not? The fair maiden who stole your heart, may the skies bless the happy couple! It is not my business to interfere with a man who is spoken for, I beg your forgiveness and part with sweet sorrows!”

- with that, Aragorn released you and you hid yourself away at the inn

- Aragorn was shaken, he could not believe how careless he had been with your feelings

- in keeping your relationship a secret, he had broken his promise of protecting you from harm, and he was to blame for your anguish

- he visited the door of your room at the inn every single day, bringing you flowers and fruits he had picked himself, but you never answered the door

- on the seventh day, there was a gentle tap on the window that awoke you from a restless sleep

- you tried to fall back into your slumber, but another tap on the window disturbed you

- rubbing your eyes tiredly, you stepped out of bed and shuffled over to the window in your nightdress

- you frowned as you remembered you were on the second floor, nobody could reach you from the window, could they?

- pushing open the small wooden doors, you were greeted by the early morning sun, and the view of Aragorn standing on the grass below you, a collection of pebbles in his hand

- he grinned as he saw you, clearing his throat before he began to dramatically shout up at you

“And there she is! My sweet angel, the only mortal fairer than any elf could dream of being! The keeper of my heart, my sun, my sea, my skies - who need not bless the happy couple, because the happy couple is blessed enough to be!”

- a crowd began to gather around Aragorn as he drew attention to himself with his monologue, the Fellowship joined him at his sides, all of them appearing unsurprised by his confession, Pip and Merry even exchanging food in the form of a bet, had they known all this time?

- Éowyn watched on from a few feet away, appearing happy and also unsurprised, had Aragorn spoken to her about this?

- Aragorn looked at the ground in disdain

“But I have wronged her, scorned her, brought tears to the delicate flower I promised to protect! I am a fool, not of a Took, but of a man!”

- he lifted his head to smile at you again

“It is I, who must beg your forgiveness, and I will do so in a way that reveals my heart’s devotions.”

- with that, Aragorn lowered himself to his knees, everyone in the crowd gasping, your eyes widening as you covered your mouth with your hands

- Aragorn raised his hands to you in a prayer position

“Will you give a beggar one last kiss?”

- you grinned and ran from the window, out of the door to your room, down the stairs and out of the inn, directly into the (still kneeling) Aragorn, who immediately wrapped his arms around you

- you kissed him with passion that was perhaps inappropriate given the number of witnesses, but neither of you seemed to care

- when you pulled away from each other, you were breathless, and Aragorn grinned

“Was that the last kiss?”

- you shook your head

“The first of many.”

[djs-den]

i’ve been wanting more canine posts lately and someone once told me “if something doesn’t exist yet, create it” so heres my 10 tips on how to feel more doggy like

hold things with your mouth - make sure the thing your holding is clean ofc. i always hold my phone in my mouth when my hands are full but i occasionally hold clothes and light bags. makes me feel like a good boy fetching my stuff

eat treats! - im a domestic dog so treats to me look more like biscuits and crackers but jerky is also a great option. i like to make my own and shape it like little bones. if anyone wants some easy recipes just ask. i like to reward myself after doing a task by eating a cookie

wiggle wiggle - i dont have a tail so i like to wiggle when im happy. it doesnt look too strange to strangers and gives me species euphoria. i like to wag my foot when i sit down and shake side to side when im standing.

wear affirming clothes - im not just talking about collars and tails. anything that makes you feel more like yourself. i have this brown fleece hoodie in the colour of my fur and wear a bandanna around my neck like a collar. anything that makes you feel happy

make sounds - i like to make a little ʷᵒᵒᶠ under my breath like a sigh. some people find vocalisations weird so i like to blend it in a way it sounds natural like whining a bit when im feeling sad or bored or bark my words out by saying it loud and quick like HEY!!

walk near nature - i live in a city dense area where theres not alot of (safe) parks nearby. so i always hang around near trees and grass to feel more connected with nature. if you can go to a park or forest then thats amazing. taking time to admire nature feels good

act playful - this is more for puppies or domestic dogs. i like to walk around my friends when we talk and move around. i cant exactly play-bow in the middle of a busy sidewalk so i usually lean on a surface or wiggle around.

ask for affection - im lucky to be surrounded by people who like to show their affection. either by verbal praise or physical touch like hugs. if you dont have access to acts like this then ask (if its safe). sometimes i just ask my parents for a hug or show something im proud of. you can also write down some affirmations on a note and remind yourself that you are perfect the way you are ◡̈

sleep dog-like - most ppl cant roll themselves into a ball but you can definitely hug a pillow. i like to sleep in a fetal position and with my back to the headboard but thats cuz im smaller than my bed. just be careful and make sure your in a comfortable position and not straining. making your bed nest like also fun.

eat out of bowls - sounds like a silly thing to say but i always feel puppy like when i eat from a bowl and not a plate. small things to make you feel more in tune with your true self

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Anton Tobias

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(Seth Green in this movie? A+)

- First things first: Anton’s had a crush on you since the first grade, which is also where the two of you technically met for the first time.

- You being placed in the same class would become a frequent, on and off again thing in both your lives. Every year or so, you’d end up having a class with Anton Tobias and every year, he’d fall for you harder and harder.

- Regardless of how long you’ve been aware of each other’s existence, Anton is still completely incapable of actually speaking to you. There’s been a few instances of him; accidentally or purposefully, coming into contact with you and just widening his eyes, doing a 180 and booking it away from you after you say hello.

- So yeah, for a while, he’s just adorably obsessed with you in a way that only a boy in love can be.

- There was definitely a period in your life where you considered trying to talk to him yourself, wondering if you could ease his nerves a little and show him that he could actually interact with you.

- But then he got really into the whole stoner thing and you found yourself a bit too intimidated to approach him. Plus, he was never at school anymore for you to talk to him anyways.

- It’s only when the two of you reach your junior year of highschool that anything of actual value happens between you.

- It was during one of the days that Anton actually showed up to school. You’d gotten home from school when you went to pull your things out of your schoolbag. It was then that you finally noticed that you had two copies of your English classes book.

- You vaguely remembered assuming you’d dropped yours when you saw a copy near your bag on the floor, a copy you’d quickly stuffed into your bag “again” before rushing to your next class. You cracked open the covers of both and found that one read ‘Anton Tobias’ in a messy scrawl.

- Considering the fact that you didn’t know where Anton lived; or had even ever spoken to him, you couldn’t exactly return the book right away, so, you were forced to wait until school the next day and hope that he showed up.

- The next day, you spotted him in front of the school and quickly made your way over. He looked at you like a deer in headlights as you explained the situation, not saying anything but taking the book from your hands as his friends watched in secondhand embarrassment and amusement.

- Pnub kicked him in the shin and he finally spoke, assuring you that it was alright and forcing a smile onto his face. You offered to let him copy your homework since you borderline stole his book and he asked if you were sure before thanking you as you handed it to him.

- You said goodbye and walked off as as he stared at you in awe. He handled that paper like a museum artifact the entire day.

- You were already seated in your chair when he walked in and surprised you by sitting right next to you. He handed your paper over and thanked you again as you gave him a smile.

- When class is finally over, he stays behind and gathers up the courage to actually talk to you, complimenting your homework before the conversation shifts into more interesting territory. His boys are very proud to see him walking out of the school with you instead of being a puss.

- The two of you made it to the bus area before you were forced to say goodbye, which you did so begrudgingly before you got on. He couldn’t complain though, he’d finally talked to the girl of his dreams and he was floating on cloud nine.

- The two of you start talking to each other everyday and he couldn’t be happier, he feels stupid for being so afraid to start a conversation with you. It takes about a month of short conversations for him to actually invite you to hang out. 

- You’re once again walking out of school with him and you’re just finishing up saying goodbye when he turns back around and asks if you want to come over to his place, which you obviously agree to. 

- So technically, your first date consists of you going over to his house and pretty much just hanging out and enjoying each others company. You watch television, talk some more, eat some food, go for a walks, things like that. 

- It’s after a few months of the two of you hanging out that you have your first kiss. You were a bit bored and flopped on his bed as he fiddled with something, asking if he actually wanted to do something. 

- He asked what you wanted to do as you hovered above him and you watched as his gaze kept drifting down to your lips. You’d suspected before that Anton had a crush on you; primarily because Pnub and Mickey had outright told you he did, but it was only now that you saw he truth in their words. 

- Before you lost your nerve, you leaned down and pressed your lips to his. He froze for a minute as you pulled away, looking at you in surprise as a million thoughts raced through your mind; thoughts that were banished as he lurched up and kissed you again. 

- Rest assured, that kiss sealed your fate. You’re never getting rid of him after that. 

- Lots of Pda. Anton really doesn’t care about what anybody thinks so if he wants to touch or kiss you; which believe me he does, he’ll just do it without thinking.

- His arm around your shoulders, or draped around the couch behind you.

- Drowsy hugs from behind. He’s usually half asleep when he does this and will usually take in a deep, tired breath and sleepily tell you you smell good.

- He presses kisses all over your face whenever he can; particularly when he’s board. He’ll give you one on your temple, then one on your cheekbone, under your cheekbone, the apple of your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your mouth-

- Soft, sometimes slow kisses.

- Makeout sessions. What’s better than laying in his bed and kissing you? To him? Pretty much nothing.

- The two of you cuddle wherever you fall. Sometimes you’re on top of him, other times he’s spooning you with his leg thrown over your body; just all types of cuddling.

- He tends to just call you by your given name but if he feels the need, he’ll call you babe or honey as well.

- He thinks everything you do is so fucking cool. He’s constantly amazed by and complimenting you.

- He’s almost embarrassingly fond of and proud of you. He brags about you to people all the time; it’s really quite adorable.

- He can’t remember basic math 90% of the time but you bet you’re ass he remembers the outfit you wore when you first talked to him or everything about that necklace you always wear or the book you always carry around. He’s well versed in the subject of y/n.

- Fast food dates.

- Watching television together.

- Chilling up in his room.

- Listening to music together. Sometimes you just lay on his bed with your heads connected and your hands intertwined and vibe.

- Walking his dog with him. You know ...Anton really isn’t fond of the way Randy looks at you as you’re walking by.

- Going to the skatepark with him and his friends.

- He’s always phoning you and asking you to come over because he wants to see you; usually groaning when you’re busy or trying to convince you to ditch what you’re doing.

- If you’re into weed then expect to be doing a lot of smoking with him.

- Trying to get him to be a little more ambitious. You’re one of the only things that get him out of bed and out into the world.

- Informing him on the latest happenings because god knows he isnt paying attention to any of whats going on around him.

- Subtle butt touches.

- Wearing his pants because he sure as shit doesn’t. If he’s rocking his boxers, you’re rocking the sweats he’s neglected.

- Occasionally cutting class or skipping school with him. You do want to graduate high school so you don’t do it all the time like he does:

- Doing him a few favors; or more so his mother. Picking up milk on your way over after school, bringing some food, returning movie rentals. Things that take like a five minutes if you’re already gonna be passing said places.

- Waking him up in the morning, or more accurately: the afternoon.

- He loves when you fuss over him. Honestly, the more motherly and “traditional” you act with him the better. Get out all those urges. He’ll never mind.

- Your laugh? Music to his ears. His humor is his main appeal; besides the fact that he’s nearly six foot and pretty attractive.

- Talking all serious about stupid shit until you both breakout into laughter.

- Wondering why he’s suddenly acting so strange....

- Going through the whole idle hand ordeal and stopping him by being crushed by a whole ass car.

- Visiting him in the hospital.

- Helping him after he loses his hand.

- You are his last brain cell. You’re like the main reason this boy is still alive.

- Occasionally shutting him up since he doesnt think before he speaks like 90% of the time. Anton ...maybe don’t make fun of police officers ...to their face ...when they already don’t like you.

- Your parents probably don’t like him ...for obvious reasons, so you’ll most likely have to sneak out or lie to them so that you can see him.

- Helping to keep him calm in stressful situations.

- He thinks he’s really bad at comforting you but he’s actually like accidentally really good at it. He has no idea what he’s doing but it’s working!

- Antons pretty oblivious most of the time so he doesn’t tend to get jealous very often. That being said, since he’s been in love with you for so long, he isn’t too keen on losing you so whenever he senses a serious threat to your relationship, he’ll do whatever he can to stop it.

- He’s sort of a coward so he really isn’t going to be the one you can count on when you’re scared. He’ll probably talk up a big game but the minute a tree limb snaps beneath someone’s foot, he’s clinging to you like a child.

- The two of you don’t fight extremely often; you sort of just know how he is so you’re unfazed by most of what he does. But when you do fight, he has trouble staying calm and saying the right thing. He’ll probably call you a bitch without thinking and you’ll have to stop yourself from strangling him.

- Whenever you’re mad at him, he’ll keep periodically calling you to try and get you to talk to him. He never waits long after you leave either; usually it’s at most an hour before he’s ringing your line. He can always seem to wiggle his way back into your good graces no matter what he does and it’s infuriating.

- He tells you he loves you quite a bit. He’s had a while to come to terms with his feelings so he isn’t afraid to tell you the truth.

- He’s not a fan of talking about the future but let’s just say that you’ll probably be the more established and accomplished person in your relationship.

[atla-hcs-and-bakoda]

Bato’s Backstory

ok so this is gonna be long, buckle up. This is my personal interpretation of bato’s backstory, it likely makes no canonical or reasonable sense, but canon does not exist and i make the rules. this is purely self-indulgent crack-treated-seriously. This is what all the other hcs, unless stated otherwise, will be set in.

Note about Bato: in my interpretation of him, he has teal/cyan eyes and darker brown hair than in the show, his skin tone has not changed.

(unfortunately this is not a zukka au, just a bakoda one. bato’s backstory is kind of an au in my mind, so when i do ship zukka, its not in this au)

(the bold letters at the beginning of the paragraphs are for accessibility)

‘Present’ (only a few months after zuko’s coronation) ages: Hakoda & Bato - 41 Kya - 42 Iroh - 65 Ozai - 47

under the cut because oh boy this is long, sorry asdfghfd

So, our story begins in the fire nation, about 59 AG, Iroh is the 25 year old crown prince, and recently had a child with his wife, Minami, on the coldest day of winter. They named him Shui, and they, quite frankly, spoilt him with their love. Minami stayed in the castle while Iroh was at war, and always sang to Shui while putting his hair up or putting him to bed.

One day, when Shui was 9, Azulon decided to take his family to Ember Islands on vacation, like the royal family has been doing for generations. However, there was a bad storm, and the ship got thrown near the south. Little Shui followed Iroh onto the deck, and fell overboard when a big wave hit the other side of the boat, rocking it and making him fall.

The royal family and crew tried to save him, but the waves dragged him under, and once the storm cleared, he was presumed dead. Iroh and Minami mourned the loss of their first son, who died so young that he hardly got to live life at all. Ozai mourned to a minor extent, as he was 15 at the time and wasn’t as bad as he is in the present, but not for as long as Shui’s parents, or grandfather, did.

Meanwhile, in the southern water tribe, little 9 year old Hakoda was wandering down at the seaside with his father when he came across a young boy unconscious in the snow, the cold water nearly freezing him to death. His father hurried him back to the tribe with the young boy’s body. For days, Hakoda sat beside the bed, rarely moving from the spot, keeping watch on the mystery boy. And eventually, he woke up.

Hakoda introduced himself once the boy was fully awake, but when asked his name, the boy said “i...i don’t remember...” So, instead, Hakoda decided to pick a name for him; Bato. The boy agreed to the name, and after a week, got adopted by one of the tribesmen, a close friend of Hakoda’s father. After that, the two children were an unstoppable duo, they did many successful pranks on everyone, including Hakoda’s mother, Kanna.

However, every once in a while, Bato would blurt out something without thinking, and when questioned, wouldn’t be able to remember it at all. For instance, Bato and Hakoda were once watching the stars late at night, when Bato pointed at a constellation and called it Druk. Hakoda laughed, but Bato insisted that was its name. Hakoda asked where Bato learned that, since thats not what their tribe calls it, and Bato had no recollection of learning it.

(This continued well into teenagehood, when Bato realised at the ripe old age of 14 that he was, in fact, in love with his best friend. He didn’t come out for a long time, in fear of his tribe’s reaction. Deep down he knew they’d accept him with open arms, but his anxiety said otherwise.)

At 12, there was a fire nation raid while Bato was at the seaside, and he recognised both the ship and flag instantly despite not being told prior about the Southern Raiders. He ran to tell the chief, and thanks to his quick reaction, saved the tribe to a degree. Many waterbenders still died, however.

At 15, Bato and Hakoda went ice-dodging with their respective fathers- and eachother. Hakoda recieved the mark of the wise, and Bato recieved the mark of the brave.

One night at 15, they were cuddling in Hakoda’s bed (because thats what best friends do, of course. its cold, no other reason, totally not) when Hakoda noticed Bato’s eye color; Teal. not the regular water tribe blue, not a dark blue, or even a light blue, but pure Teal. Although hakoda would still argue to this day that bato’s eyes are cyan. When questioned about his eye color, Bato shrugged and brushed it off as an uncommon trait. But Hakoda realised nobody else in the tribe had cyan eyes, just blue.

Then, at 16, the boys got into a bad avalanche that resulted in Hakoda getting knocked out. Bato woke up hours later, and pulled his best friend out of the snow. He realised Hakoda wasnt breathing, and started to cry, taking his gloves off to cling to Hakoda and try feel the warmth of his pulse, to no avail. He closed his eyes and cried, when his hands lit on fire. When he realised what he just did, he put the flame out and made a plan, carrying Hakoda to the dog sled quite a bit from the avalanche, and set them on course for the tribe while he carefully lit his hands back on fire after a few attempts, and kept Hakoda warm. 

Just before they got to the tribe, Hakoda started breathing again, shallowly, and his father quickly took both of them to the healer when they arrived back. This time, it was Bato who sat beside the bed and waited for Hakoda to wake up, refusing to eat much until his friend woke up.

He never told anyone about his bending.

A few months later, Hakoda met and started dating Kya, and Bato’s heart broke. he was happy for hakoda, he really was, but deep down it still hurt him to see him with someone else.

At 20, Hakoda’s father went off to war.  At 22, Hakoda became Chief, and Bato became the second-in-command.

At 23, Hakoda proposed to Kya after like 20 failed attempts at carving a betrothal necklace. Bato’s heart broke a tiny bit more, but he ignored it to be happy for his friend. Bato had to sleep alone for the first time since he joined the southern water tribe, he didn’t sleep much when alone.

2 years later, at 25, Sokka was born, and Bato babysat him a lot when Hakoda and Kya were busy. Bato admittedly vented to baby sokka quite a bit, and showed him very minor firebending tricks he practiced during sleepless nights, which was most nights.

At 26, Katara was born, and Bato now babysat two little children, both of which he adored with all his heart. He himself is infertile, so Katara and Sokka were the closest thing he had to his own children.

Things went mostly peacefully for years, until 34, when Kya got killed. After the raid, Hakoda wouldnt eat for days at a time, completely depressed and exhausted. Bato would offer him small plates of food and sit with him, letting him vent or cry or whatever Hakoda needed to do to get the stress and pain out. He also looked after Sokka and Katara while Hakoda couldn’t, and usually slept next to Hakoda’s bed, watching over the chief, along with his kids, as both children were terrified to sleep by themselves, Hakoda was scared of losing them, and Bato couldn’t bare the thought of not keeping them safe.

After years of recovering, Hakoda eventually had to head out to war with the men of the tribe, Bato included. Bato’s heart broke watching Sokka beg to come with them, but he knew it was for the best.

3 months after leaving, Bato came out to Hakoda in the Chieftan’s private room in the boat, and Hakoda accepted him with open arms, and promised to not tell anyone until Bato was ready. Bato fell a lot more in love.

At 5 months, he started very carefully dropping hints to Hakoda that he likes him, slightly-too-friendly-to-be-platonic compliments, cuddling him in hakoda’s room “because its cold” (they were nowhere near cold climates), and other vaugely homoerotic stuff like that. All of it went over Hakoda’s head.

(At 6 months he straight up told Hakoda at night on the deck “Your my stars, Hakoda. Whenever i’m lost, you always bring me home.”, and Hakoda responded “Thanks Bato, I’m happy your my friend too.”, Bato stayed awake all night in utter disbelief. He still teases Hakoda about it.)

1 year after leaving, Bato realised he might not be as much of a guy as he thought he was. He silently decided to put that train of thoughts on hold until the war was over. (In his heart he knew the war would never be over until the fire nation won. especially with sozin’s comet only a year away and- he doesnt remember what sozin’s comet is.)

When his arm got burned, he burned the soldier right back with his good arm out of sight of everyone else, and managed to shove them overboard before the pain hit him. He’s always had a high pain tolerance.  After the fight ended, Hakoda carried Bato to the abbey, and they had a tearful goodbye, where Bato quietly confessed his love as Hakoda walked out the room. Hakoda thought about it until he saw Bato again.

When they reunited, Hakoda confessed his love back to Bato, and they kissed right in the open, it took a lot of self control for the other tribesmen to not cheer, they had known for literally forever, the only person in the tribe who didnt know bato was in love with hakoda was hakoda.

Somehow, it took until the war was over for Sokka and Katara to find out they had a step-dad. They already considered Bato to be their second dad, so not much exactly changed.

The day of Zuko’s coronation, Bato got talking with Iroh, and when the topic came to children, Iroh explained how both his sons were dead, one dying at 9 from a storm, and the other dying at 20 from war. When Iroh says his youngest (eldest?) son’s name, Shui, Bato remembers the storm, and Iroh notices Bato’s rare cyan eyes.

They have a nice reunion, although Bato has to sit down for a while to process all this and figure out his family tree. He decides not to tell Hakoda yet, but he does spend a while walking through the palace with Iroh and remembering parts of his early childhood. He cant bring himself to go into the room of firelord portraits.

A month after zuko’s coronation, he sits Hakoda down and explains that he’s a bender, and he’s apparently fire nation royalty. Hakoda gets temporarily mad, but eventually calms down and hugs Bato when his friend told him that his firebending saved both himself and hakoda, and that he would never be like his forefathers or uncle. Hakoda takes a while to fully accept it, but eventually warms up (heh) to the concept, and continues to use Bato as a personal space heater.

Two months after zuko’s coronation, he finally decides to tackle the “i’m not as much as a guy as i thought” issue, and he decides to go to Iroh and Toph for advice over tea, where Iroh suggests some wise stuff, but Toph simply explains what non-binary is, and suggests Bato may be Demiboy. (Although Bato prefers to call himself Demiguy, he doesnt like being called a boy) The Gender Crisis continues for about another week, and takes another half a month for him to come out to Hakoda. Bato was somewhat internally afraid he wouldnt be counted as one of the men, but Hakoda was overwhelmingly supportive, and admitted that he knew Bato wasn’t exactly cis, he just never knew the words to use.

Bato spends a while at the palace after the coronation to get his bearings on being half fire nation and a prince, he learns purple is a very good color on him.(Hakoda later jokes that it was foreshadowing for Bato realising he was enby, as he wasnt blue or red)

He bonds quite a bit with Zuko, Iroh, and Toph during his stay, but eventually goes back to the southern water tribe, the place he truly considers home. Although, he does go and visit the fire nation every once in a while. He even goes to Ember Islands and has a vacation day with both of his families.

After about two years, He finally makes a betrothal necklace for Hakoda, with the symbol of the water tribe on it and flames coming up from the waves, both of them totally cry happy tears when he proposes privately under the light of the aurora.

[heck-im-lost]

A Rainy Day

Pairing: Platonic LAMP (could be seen as romantic - theyre very gay)

Word Count: 1,391

Content warnings: small self-worth issues, crying, feelings of not being good enough, food mentions, mentions of skipping a meal (it doesnt end up happening, but mentioning it just in case)

Summary: Logan, Roman, and Virgil are out for the day, and Patton is home alone. He starts off keeping himself busy, but eventually the loneliness gets him down.       Patton-centric hurt/comfort

Notes: So I initially started writing this for @creativity-killed-thekitten‘s birthday, but then i didnt get round to finishing it until now. I know it is very late but hey, better late than never

Click here to read on AO3

Patton was sitting on his windowsill, warm blankets layered over his lap and a mug of hot chocolate steaming in his hands. The rain beat down on the window, and shook the trees with the sheer force of the water. Watching droplets stream down the cold panes of glass, he sipped his hot chocolate and sighed gently to himself.

He checked the time. It was only 4pm: the others wouldn't be back for another 2 hours.

He didn't like being by himself all day, and had tried to fill the long lonely hours with things to take up the time. He had made brownies and cookies, which were cooling in the kitchen. He'd cleaned all around the apartment, hoovering the floors and wiping down the surfaces. He'd tidied Logan's cluttered desk, taken all of the empty mugs back to the kitchen, and sorted the papers and notebooks into tidier piles.

He had ventured into Virgil's room, and opened the curtains and windows to let in some air, and had dusted all of the shelves and belongings.

And he had picked up all of Roman's clothes that we're strewn across the floor, putting them in the wash basket and washing everyone's things.

And then it had started to rain, so he had made himself his favourite rain-watching drink and had sat himself in his favourite rain-watching seat.

But it didn't feel the same when he was alone. And while he had tried to keep himself busy enough to outrun the loneliness, he couldn't help but let it catch up to him.

That's the problem with rain you see. It makes you think about things that you wanted to avoid.

The house seemed so quiet without the others around. Patton was used to someone always doing something. People talking or passionately arguing, in a friendly sort of way, or Roman singing or Logan ranting about the subjects he loved or the gentle hum of Virgil’s music playing in his room or so many other things.

But it was just him and the emptiness of the house. And the beating rain on the window.

Patton realised that tears had started to trickle down his face, slow at first, but then they started to stream more quickly, just like the rain outside. He couldn't hold it back, and sobbed. His crying fierce but silent, seemingly insignificant compared to the downpour outside.

Soon he had no more tears left to cry, and he leaned back against the edge of the window, tired. He put the empty mug of his hot chocolate down, and watched as the rainstorm calmed down slightly.

Gently closing his eyes, he listened to the regular beating of the raindrops, feeling the cold air from outside upon his face.

And suddenly his eyes shot open, his neck and back aching from his uncomfortable position. He jumped up. Only an hour until they would be back. Patton raced to the kitchen to put the cooling brownies and cookies into suitable containers, and started to wash up the bowls so that he could start making dinner. He wasn't going to have everything ready for them in time.

Burning his hands in the hot water, he frantically scrubbed, cursing himself in frustration. He had to be good enough for them. He scrubbed the largest mixing bowl before rinsing it and putting it on the drying rack with a thunk. He had to do enough to make up for the fact they were all doing important things while he was just at home. He tipped up the washing up bowl and the water sloshed out violently. Stupid Patton couldn't even be by himself for a day without feeling sad.

All he wanted to do was flop on the floor. All he needed was a hug, and a friend to talk to. But he had to do this for them. To show them that he was strong enough to cope by himself.

He started making dinner.

~~~~

Roman put his key in the lock, and dramatically opened the door.

"Paaat-tonnn we're hooooome!!!!" He paused for a second but heard no reply. They shared a look, and then Logan shrugged lightly.

"Patton? Are you here?" His voice my not have had the volume and reverberation of Roman's, but Logan's voice was clearer.

A small mumble was heard from somewhere in the house.

"I'm in the kitchen."

Virgil rushed in first followed by the others quick behind him. Patton was sitting on the kitchen floor, three hot steaming plates of pasta behind him on the counter.

"Are you okay, Pat?"

"I-" all of them could see that he was fighting tears from falling down his face. "It- It doesn't matter." He forced his face into a smile. "I made dinner. It was gonna be a better dish but I fell asleep so I didn't have time. I just made pasta, I'm really sorry. You probably needed something really nice after a whole busy day of doing important things. But silly old Patton fell asleep. I'm really sorry. Don’t worry about me. Just enjoy your dinner."

"Hey, hey Patton it's okay! The meals look fit for royalty! And your presentation is incredible as always. But you're more important than dinner, Patton." Roman sat down in the floor next to Patton and lay his hand on his leg, gently stroking it.

Virgil slumped to the floor too, leaning Patton over so that his head lay on his shoulder. And Logan knelt down with them, carefully taking Patton's hand, holding it safe and secure.

And with that the damn broke. Patton took deep harsh breaths, sobbing into Virgil's shoulder.

"I just wanted-" tears were streaming down his cheeks, wetting Virgil's hoodie, "to be good enough for you." He paused, and gripped Logan's hand tighter. "But I couldn't even stand a day by myself." And with that he cried harder, so caught up in his apparent failure that he couldn't see the loving looks in his friends eyes.

"Patton look at me," Logan instructed. "You are already good enough for us. You don't have to make us dinner or-" he looked around the room "clean up for us to be enough. Because just by existing you are incredible. You make me happier than all of the crofters in the world."

Virgil put his arm around Patton, cradling his head in his chest. "We all love you Patton, we're truly sorry that we had to leave you on your own all day. It won't happen again."

"You are the light in all of our lives Patton, you truly are. And your empathy, and dependence on others is a good thing, not a flaw. You love everyone so much, and you make us, make me at least, feel special and loved and happy. Come on, let's get you up off of the floor." Roman jumped up, and held out a hand, which Patton graciously took.

Logan stood up, and then looked puzzled for a second. "Where is your dinner Patton?" He remarked, gesturing to the three plates on the counter in front of him.

Patton looked at the ground and muttered, just loud enough to hear "There wasn't enough pasta for 4 of us, and I wasn't very hungry so I thought I'd just skip out. I thought that you probably deserved it more than me, with the work from today and all."

"Now that isn't acceptable at all now is it, my prince? And anyone can see that you have been working just as hard us today.” He looked Patton in the eyes, with a face that could barely hold the love for his friend. “We had a lunch a little late, so I'm sure we'd be happy with a little less food, it's much better to share what we have than skip someone out."

Logan and Virgil set off replating the dinner, and Roman pulled Patton to the couch, gesturing for Patton to sit on his lap. Patton slumped down, sighing softly as Roman hugged him tight, before releasing slightly to rub his back.

And with that they sat down at the table, Roman never stopping stroking Patton's leg under the table as they ate. Patton smiled to himself, happy enough to just listen to the others talking about their day.

They were home safe and sound, with him, and they loved him after all.

[mysmedrabbles]

RFA Reacting to MC Growing Up an Orphan

requested: by anonymous

a/n: oof this actually turned out really cute so here ya go lads! enjoy!! if you’d like to buy me a coffee click here

warnings: light alcohol mention, but filled with fluff and comfort and kindness (saeyoungs delves more into abuse and emotions)

-somft mod alex

Jumin

-its a semi drunken night when you tell him, you’d finally gotten Jumin to loosen up after a long workday, and were now on the couch together, Jumin’s head on your chest as you ran your fingers through his hair lazily, letting the alcohol dull your mind as you listen to him rambling about his childhood

-it must have been an offhand comment you made that sparked his attention, making him rise from the comforts of your lap as he stares at you incredulously. you sheepishly tell him your story, and although he’s sensitive with you as to not upset you, he’s horrified to learn that you were constantly neglected in your childhood, growing up without a place you could actually consider a home

-he listens to you, quietly concerned as the alcohol hits him hard, and the next thing he knows he’s passed out on your shoulder.

-when he wakes up he has only a faint recollection of you telling him of your past, but he doesn't bring it up; partially because of a raging headache and partially because he didn't want to upset you, you looking so at peace reading something on your phone, a loving smile forming on your lips as you sense him watching you

-he’s not one to go in full steam ahead (well- he is, but he reAlly wants to be subtle with this) but he tries his best to make living together feel as homey as possible

-he talks to Yoosung, the Professional at all things Family, and realizes that he should tone down the money spending to ensure your comfort and instead use that time to do things together, bond over small dumb things. 

-knows that as much as he would want to go back in time and fix your childhood, give you the love you deserved, find you a home, the past cannot be changed. so instead he opts on building the sense of family between the two of you

-he takes you to ikea (Saeyoungs idea), and the two of you find new furniture, something that fits your tastes as well, to redecorate the penthouse. 

-imagine jumin trying to assemble ikea furniture 

-he gets frustrated with having to do things like a commoner, but bless him he’s trying his best to do it for you, and the way your face lights up whenever the two of you do something “domestic” or “familial” makes it all worth it. it’s a learning curve for him too, and despite his protests he cant help but admit that he was missing a lot from his childhood too but it brings him peace knowing he’ll soon be building a family with you ;^)

-he’s not willing to get rid of the giant aquarium pillars, however he lets you get them some cool aquarium furnishings and plants

-goes grocery shopping with you more often, and overall spends more time with you, even telling chef to take the weekends off from now on, opting to cook together instead, and even though most of the time things end up burnt or tasting weird, all that matters is that the two of you have fun

-everyone thinks he’s lost his mind, including for the RFA, who's in the corner crying because “What happened to our cold emotionless Jumin Why Is He SO Domestic”

-teaches you to waltz 

-the day you make an offhand comment about how you consider him your family, he stops and starts tearing up, pulling you into a tight hug as you confusedly kiss his cheek, only slightly worried about him

Jaehee

-it was one of the first things the two of you really talked about, a kind of bond forming over past trauma and losing a part of your childhood. 

-she’s a very action forward woman, knows that she can’t change the past, but she sure as hell can help you heal from it. 

-she takes you to show you all her favourite sweets from her childhood, and takes you to spots she loved sitting in as a kid, trying to share these experiences with you

-she challenges you to a race to see who can climb to the top of a tree the fastest, and it’s one of the few times you see her truly free, giggling as she watches you struggle up the branches, meeting you with a kiss when you finally reach the top, and with her it feels like nothing else in the world matters, that in that moment the only ones that exist are her and the sunset, making her smile shine, casting an ethereal glow on her face as she caresses your cheek lovingly.

-tries to take more breaks to spend more time with you, building more memories in places that most people deem “kiddie places”

-yes im saying she takes you to SkyZone and/or a ball-pit

-she gets lost in the ball-pit, slowly sinking lower and lower as you have to dramatically rescue her

-diner dates, sharing a milkshake and relaxing together after a long day of work, and although none of it can bring back the past, her devotion to giving you fu childhood related memories lessens the pain, and the memories that you build with her of course will always last forever 

Yoosung

-he’s always so excited about meeting your family, about joining two families and building a new one- with this boy its always about family, so how the hell do you bring up that you dont actually have one?

-when you do finally tell him, he stops in his tracks, trying to process how that could be

-he’s a good listener, bless him, and he listens to your story, how you were mostly in and out of orphanages and foster families and grew up a child of the System. 

-at first he doesn’t know what to do with the information, and feels the deep pangs in his chest when he realizes that you missed out on so many things growing up, things that he took for granted

-you already view him as family, (frankly its hard not too, his general attitude towards you, the constant loving gazes, the way the two of you were always there for each other, mixed with the annoying comments of the RFA on how the two of you are “so married” making it hard not to), but he still sets out to make you feel like his family is yours

-this means he introduces you to his family.

-he knows how nervous you are the day before, and calls ahead without you knowing and tells his family to take it easy and not overwhelm you

-however they still do- overwhelm you with love i mean

-his grandma is immediately sizing you up and telling you to eat more, asking what size sweaters you wear and his dad is making silly jokes at your expense, yoosung holding your hand as him and his dad go back and forth one teasing,  one protecting you. his mum is smiling, holding a wooden spoon as she steps out of the kitchen, calling yoosung to help her with the cooking

-his sisters dote on you, introducing you to their husbands as their children run around in the background screaming in happiness, yelling at you to join them in playing tag, and their gleeful laughs draw you in. stopped by yoosung as you run into him, almost making him drop the mashed potatoes, and the look on your face is priceless, making the whole day worth it

-you get along with his oldest sister spectacularly, and you have your time to joke about yoosung as you ask his grandma for embarrassing stories of yoosung. (you enjoy watching his get increasingly flustered as he tries to hide in the crook of your neck)

-you and his parents have a long chat, ending in them hugging you and telling you just how much they appreciate you and the way you’ve made his son grow. the two of you seem so happy together, perfect even.

-it’s almost one in the morning when the two of you start heading home. as the two of you walk to your car, he colds you close to his side, placing small kisses on your cheek as he watches you smile softly.

- “mc i know, i know that you,, may not have had a family growing up but know that,, know that you always have a family in us, you’re a part of my family now, and you’ll always have us. we’re not going anywhere.”

Seven

separate post [here]

Zen

-he’s a good listener, and listening to you talk about growing up poor and alone breaks his heart

-he can empathize, he had to grow up too fast, but he can’t even begin to imagine what you had to go through

-he’s there for you, always trying to make you feel better, and even though you never had a true family, he always lets you know that you’ll always have a family in him, even though you aren't legally married yet, nothing can stop him from calling you his family

-he’s not one to go all big and grand, he knows that logically you can never get that time back, but that doesnt mean you dont deserve that same childish delight that most people get 

-he’s one to treat you closer than ever, like true family, constantly reminding you that he loves you and protecting you from everything he possibly can, doing everything in his power to make sure that you’re protected from pain

-carnival date!!!!

-he takes you out to the carnival, playing all the booth games with you, making it a competition who can win more (the winner being no one)

-you get your face painted, a cliche green butterfly under your left eye, zen getting a matching red butterfly under his left

he ends up just buying you a large teddy bear, unable to have actually won you one (he’s extremely ashamed of himself but its the thought that counts)

-the two of you go on a carnival food spree, buying a little bit of everything as you walk hand in hand to the ferris wheel, (eating with a view amirite)

-please know that he’ll always do anything in his power to keep you safe and make sure you know you’re loved. you’re his family and, along with the RFA he’s yours.

[aryasbadbenergy]

a little gendrya oneshot

there is a better edited version here:

(but i won’t stop u from reading this lol i just didn’t really like the ending on this one)

Arya had fallen asleep only an hour ago, but Gendry felt like he had laid there for forever. He didn’t want to leave her while she slept, but first light would come soon, and Gendry could not be caught in the Princess’s bed. Her leg lays across his stomach, and every time she moves, the smooth inside of her thigh slides across his hip. Her body bare except for the thin linen that drapes across their hips. Her head is on his arm, but most of her body rests on his side, and presses her breasts against his ribs. She shifts again, and her leg ventures lower.

Her body had small scars all over, but the insides of her thighs were soft. The outsides were just as scarred as the rest of her body. He mindlessly rubbed his hand on her back, and felt some of her scars from the House of Black and White. Her arms had healed cuts from various things, but he loved the mark on her face the most. She had fallen out of a tree as a child, and split her lip open, leaving a faint scar that led up to her nostril. He tries not to despise the scars that mark her stomach, but it’s hard. She says they’re ugly, and he knows she’s self-conscious of them every time she removes her clothes for him, so he’s sure to hide the fury he feels when he sees them. They could have killed her. They almost did. Unlike the scars that littered her body to teach her lessons for losing her balance while climbing a tree or not paying close enough attention to the end of a blade while fighting. But the scars on her belly only showed that she had failed to obey an order to kill someone underserving of death. She murmurs something to Gendry and he doesn’t know if she’s waking or sleep talking. She slides her leg across his stomach, resting it just below his belly button. Her hair, which she still keeps short (albeit neatly cut to reach her shoulders) had tangled from the early events of this morning and fell across her face. A chunk stuck to the corner of her mouth and moves a little which each breath she withdraws. Gendry smiles softly and brushes it away from her face. She hums in response, finally stirring from her sleep. She opens her eyes and huffs a little.

“Morning, already?” She mumbles, and he smiles again at her sleepy state.

“You can sleep for a while longer, I need to get back to the forge,” he whispers, trying not to rouse her too much.

“Have you slept?” She asks, shutting her eyes again and snuggling her face against Gendry’s neck.

“No, I was going to sleep for a little while at the forge before everyone wakes up,” he says, and he knows she’s probably rolling her eyes at him under his chin. The war against the Night King had ended, but Cersei Lannister still wanted Jon and Daenerys’s heads on spikes for trying to rebel against her claim to the throne. And they needed weapons to win.

“Why don’t you just sleep here?”

“And have the King in the North and his wolf catch me? I think not, m’lady.” She groans in response to the nickname. “Oh, right, my apologies, Your Grace,” he teases and she shoves his chest.

“I’m not the princess, stupid. Sansa is.”

“Last I checked, having a brother for a King makes you a princess.”

“How many princesses do you know of that invite men into their beds,” she snaps, and he lets out a small chuckle.

“Men? I hope you don’t mean more than me,” he teases and she smiles against his throat. She hums. “Well?”

“Oops, you weren’t supposed to know about my many lovers.”

“Well now that you’ve told me they exist, I have to know who I’m fighting for your affections.”

“Let’s see,” she leans up from her spot and rests her head on her hand. “There’s Podrick... Samwell... my brother’s wife Meera...”

“Bronn?”

“Him, too,” she jests. “And Jaime Lannister.”

“I must say, Your Grace, you are quite the little scoundrel of Winterfell.”

“Someone had to be,” she gives him a smile, one that was reserved for him in private. When she trained in Braavos she learned to hide her emotions, but the only one that she couldn’t control around Gendry was love.

Gendry leans forward and gives her a chaste kiss. She tries to draw him in, but he knows he needs to leave her chamber soon. She kisses him again, and pushes her leg across his stomach down lower, but he catches her thigh with one of his hands.

“I have to go,” he says.

She wraps an arm protectively around his shoulder and moves to lay over top of him, trapping him. “No.”

“Arya, I could use one finger to push you off and leave if I really wanted to,” he says, but makes no move to leave.

“Then why haven’t you?” She asks as she sits up and leans her body from left to right to straddle him. She raises her eyebrow at him, waiting for his response.

“Because I don’t want to. I need to, though,” he says, with a huff. But as Arya moves and pants over top of him, he finds it’s hard to remember why he needs to be anywhere but with her.

-

Gendry wakes up later, as light glares through Arya’s window. “Shit!” He gasps, and tries to gather his small clothes. Arya sits up and looks at him, a small blush coating her cheeks.

“You’re still here?”

“We fell asleep,” he says, trying to keep his voice down, knowing sounds carry and people whisper. “I need to leave before anyone sees me in here.”

“Right,” Arya says, and hands him his discarded breeches by the edge of her bed. Gendry pulls them on, and tries to tie all of his clothes back together neatly. He finishes dressing and laces his boots up. “It doesn’t look much later than first light, if you leave know you can probably make it out of this wing so you don’t look suspicious.” He quickly nods and walks over to Arya. He plants a small kiss on her forehead and she shoves him lightly. “Go,” she prods and he smiles at her.

He makes it out into the hallway with only a small creak from the door. He gently shuts it after looking to make sure no one is roaming the corridor. He creeps towards one of the castles many exits, but before he has the chance to hide, the King and the Princess round the corner.

“Gendry?” Jon asks, with a perplexed look on his face.

“Your Grace,” Gendry responds, falling into a kneel. Jon motions for him to stand up and Sansa wears the same look on her face.

“What brought you to the Princess’s chambers this early in the morning?” Jon asks, but Gendry knows Jon already has the answer.

“The Princess’s sword needed mending, Your Grace. She asked me to take a look at it,” Gendry lies.

“At first light? Surely you had more pressing matters to attend,” The King snaps and he stomps towards Arya’s door. He pulls it open and Arya clutches the linens to her naked chest.

“Jon! Do you knock?” Arya shouts, as Gendry accepts that he’s going to die today. Sansa grimaces and Jon steps towards Gendry.

Jon grabs Gendry’s arm and starts to walk him away from Arya’s chamber. “Sword mending,” he grumbles to himself. Sansa shuts Arya’s door and rushes behind Jon and Gendry.

“Jon,” she says, but he doesn’t respond. Gendry keeps pace with Jon and can only hope that Ghost’s whereabouts are unbeknownst to Jon. “Jon!” Sansa snaps, and Jon stops to turn around to look at Sansa.

“Sansa!” Jon responds.

“Jon, you’re making a scene. You need to calm down,” she hisses, lowering her voice. Arya emerges from her chamber, dressed in breeches and a half-tied jerkin. Her hair remains tangled, and she rushes towards the group.

“Jon, please,” Arya begs, “Can we talk about this? Not here.”

Jon finally lets his iron-like grip on Gendry go, and nods. “Fine.”

Jon doesn’t give anyone time to respond as he starts walking again. Sansa and Arya follow him, and Gendry trails behind the three, praying to every God he knows.

They end up in Jon’s solar, and Gendry sits directly across from him, extremely focused on his hands. “Do you want to explain to me why you were in my little sister’s chamber this morning?” Jon asks, looking as angry as any King Gendry had heard about.

“I needed to mend her sword, Your Grace.”

Jon’s glower tells Gendry he didn’t give him the correct response. “I fell asleep, Your Grace.”

“We were being improper,” Arya grumbles, giving her brother an eye roll.

“I know that,” Jon hisses. “I wanted Gendry to tell me.”

“Why?” Arya snaps. “Are you going to castrate him?” She agitates, and Gendry silently curses her for giving Jon the idea.

“I’ve considered it!” Gendry moves his hand to protect his manhood. He would sooner set himself on fire than be castrated.

“Jon, be reasonable, please,” Sansa says, and Gendry is thankful for her for being the only calm Stark in this situation.

“Be reasonable? One of my trusted friends has been... has been...” he shakes his hands in Gendry and Arya’s direction.

“If I remember correctly, Arya and Gendry were friends for much longer than you and Gendry. Unless you were planning on selling Arya in a marriage alliance, it does not really matter what our sister does in private.”

Jon ran his hands through his curls. “If you had asked me, I would’ve allowed you to marry,” Jon announces, unexpectedly. Gendry perks up at the King’s words. “Now that you have...” Jon doesn’t finish his statement. “You should marry. I won’t force you, Arya, but if you respect me or Gendry, you will not refuse his hand and bear his bastard.”

“I’m only a bastard, Your Grace. I can’t give the child a bastard’s name.”

“You are the late King Robert’s bastard. I only need to sign a paper, and you could have a last name to give your child.”

Gendry turns to look at Arya, not wanting to respond without her approval. “What are you waiting for, stupid? Are you going to give me your name or not?” She says, with a small smile on her face. Arya always expressed her disgust of marrying as a child, but they rarely spoke of her having to marry as adults. Gendry nods and turns back to Jon.

“Don’t think that I’ll forgive you for this easily, Gendry,” Jon huffs, and reaches for a blank piece of parchment.

“King Robert had always wanted a Stark-Baratheon marriage,” Sansa muses, and gives Arya a small smile.

(this is highly unedited, and it’s also the first gendrya thing ive ever published EVER please be nice i’m sensitive lol)

[hello-imasalesman]

A Kieran/Arthur prompt for you! Kieran makes a firm demand of Arthur then gets nervous that maybe that was a misstep. Except nope, Arthur, though maybe surprised, does it with minor grumbling. So Kieran gets bolder, and it turns out Arthur might be into getting ordered around (and being a good boy and following orders right) and Kieran might be into it, too.

op i loved this prompt i didnt do it justice but i tried (nsft/lemon warning! its under a read more apologies if it doesnt show up on mobile )

It started very small, very simple. Kieran corrects Arthur’s command of his horse. Just a slight change in the way he held his reins, touching his wrists in a gentle motion to raise them higher. His fingers scraping against that small gap of skin, between his gloves and his shirt-cuffs. Arthur shoots him a glare and grumbles, dangerous, indignant: “O’Driscoll,” but he follows suit anyway. Because Kieran is good with horses, he reckons, so why wouldn’t Arthur take his recommendation?

But then, one time, Kieran’s hauling bales of hay, and he passes by Arthur. Asks if he minds giving him a hand. Arthur grumbles, but he does. And it escalates from there, achingly slowly, natural as moss creeping over a log, little favors, small requests, firm reminders. And it’s not that Kieran wants Arthur to do all his chores, far from that, because his requests almost immediately deviate from those kinds of things. And Kieran never thought himself the type, and, and, and—

And it starts with Kieran, a little drunk on hard liquor much too late at night around the scout campfire. Sitting knock-kneed on separate logs, asking Arthur to— telling Arthur to kiss him, hard. He does with no question, sucks the whiskey from his tongue—

“Stop.” Kieran says.

Arthur heels. Sits back with his hands in his lap, his palm surreptitiously pressing down on the front of his slacks, watching Kieran with shiny lips and dark eyes. Patiently waiting. Kieran feels his throat go dry. The span of distance between them, filled with Arthur’s breathing, the pop of nearby embers from the fire.

Arthur’s good at taking direction. From what Kieran can gather, he’s been doing so all his life. 

Just, never from someone like him.

Kieran Duffy, former O’Driscoll boot boy, whistling across the Clemen’s Point pasture. Like he’s calling a dog, except it’s Arthur, hat tilted down, making his way careful through the muck. Walking towards Kieran, following him back past the tree line, into the woods.

After a few paces, Kieran turns around. He doesn’t need to; Arthur’s following, of course, but some part of him likes to watch him come at his call. He walks right into an oak tree, back against the bark, and decides that’s a fine enough place to stop. “Mr. Morgan.”

“Mr. Duffy.” Arthur answers.

Back when he was an O’Driscoll boy, the Van der Lindes came up often enough. Arthur was a constant bogeyman, the stuff of nightmares. Slaughtering entire camps singlehandedly. When it was his hand who rolled him over from the face-down freeze of the snow, five-thousand dollar bounty, wanted in more states than not Arthur Morgan, Kieran surely thought he’d die by that hand, soon enough. Still believes he will, in a different way, though.

“C’mere,” Kieran’s voice warbles, still. “Knees. Get on your- your knees.” That’s what baffles him, too. That Arthur is the way he is— all corded muscle, death incarnate— and he takes orders from a nothing like himself, who can’t even keep his voice clear. Sinks to his knees, lets his hands slide down Kieran’s sides, fingers bunching in the fabric of his linen shirt. Arthur Morgan, who cut down every man in Sixpoint Cabin, unbuckling his belt, yanking it down his hips.

Kieran’s hard already, cock jutting forward, bobbing as his pants bunch up around his thighs. Arthur takes him in hand and— hesitates. Looking up searchingly as he fists his cock, those blue eyes shadowed under the brim of his hat.

Arthur swallows with a click; just the tip of his tongue comes out, the barest hint of pink, wetting his lips. Nervous, nervous, as he’s leaning in, brushing his lips against the head, smears precum slick and shiny over his bottom lip.

Kieran sucks in a breath, a buckle to his knees, where Arthur is so handsomely existing between. “Go on.” He reaches out, cradles his cheek. Knocks Arthur’s hat off as an afterthought, and his eyes shift, watching it fall to the lush softness of the forest floor. “You ain’t gotta be coy.”

Arthur’s breathing is audible, heavy and hot against Kieran’s skin. “Coy?” Kieran can feel the letters against his skin, the drag of his lips. His voice rumbles out lowly, the tip of his tongue catching a taste of Kieran’s skin. “That’s a new one. Been called a lot of strange things, recently. Pretty, coy…” Trailing off with a sigh that exhales hot against his skin, Arthur’s lips skate fleetingly down his shaft.

“You’d look awful pretty with—“ Kieran talks and he can see it, with each word, the way Arthur’s eyes get dark and wide, wishes he had the words to talk forever and watch Arthur’s face flash alive and vulnerable against him, “With your lips around me.”

Arthur groans and Kieran can feel that, too, feels it zip up his spine and rattle every single vertebrae on the way up; must rattle his skull, too, because he just about loses his senses when Arthur parts his lips and swallows down, groaning loud and pushing his hands into Arthur’s shaggy hair. 

Kieran’s arrested, watching himself disappear on that plush tongue. Arthur lays his palm flat against the hollow of Kieran’s stomach, head bobbing; he’s inexperienced and it shows in the mess he’s making, saliva pooling in his mouth and dripping from the corners of his lips. Slick and soft noises. Wet and hot and all encompassing. Arthur Morgan, arguably the third in command of the Van der Lindes, lips hugging around his cock—

It’s a wild thought. Vulgar. Kieran keens against his knuckles, bites hard until the pain of it pulls him back from the edge. Keeps his other hand buried in Arthur’s hair, flexing his fingers.

“Arthur—“ Praising, panting, “Jesus— s-so-so good—“

Arthur swallows, shudders, a shadow of gag against the back of his tongue, swallowing reflexive against Kieran thick in his mouth. Looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes. He’s only able to make shallow movements, but makes up the rest of the distance with his fingers, stroking down where he can’t sink to. And his spit, dripping from his mouth slipping down his cock, sliding slick down his shaft, towards his balls. 

Filthy, filthy— the wet sounds of his lips, sucking, soft— Kieran’s hips jerk, and Arthur’s fingers flex warningly against his hipbones, pinning him back against the tree.

“So good,” Kieran croons, letting his fingers slide down to smooth over his pinched brow, “Arthur—“

He pulls off with a wet gasp. “Stop.”

Kieran’s fingers halt. “What?” His cock twitches in the warm Lemoyne air, breaking a thread of spit connecting him to Arthur’s swollen lips. He’s still holding him by the base, fingers loosely circled around, and it’s doing nothing but making him want to arch up into his touch.

“Th’ talkin’—“ His tongue is thick in his mouth, jaw popping, “S’not true. It’s distracting.”

Kieran’s smile’s lopsided. It’s startling how stern Arthur still manages to look, even glowering behind the shadow of his cock. But he’s not shaking him off, either, as Kieran idly runs his nails behind Arthur’s ear.

“What part ain’t true?”

The tips of Arthur’s ears go red as Kieran plays with them, runs his fingers over the shell.

“You’re one of the most handsome fellers I’ve ever met, Arthur,” He continues, voice low, watches Arthur school his face to something steady and closed. “Can’t help it, the things I’m saying. You try not to tell a man like this, doing— doing these sorts of things.”

“You could help it.” Arthur grumbles. Leaning in, like he’s forgotten he’s supposed to be mad, idly running his lips over Kieran’s aching erection. 

He puffs out a wry breath, tries not to let his nails bite too hard in the fragile skin under the curling hairs at the back of Arthur’s head. “I-I can stop.” Kieran offers. “But it won’t make it any less true.”

Arthur glares up at him, huffs hotly against his skin.

“You want me to stop?”

Arthur licks his lips. Mumbles, eyes falling downward: “Naw. Go on.” There’s no preamble; Arthur swallows him down, throat spasming; there’s a noise of suction as he pulls up, and wrings his fist downward with a twist. He repeats that motion, lips and fingers meeting halfway, again and again and again—

Kieran says it like a prayer, babbling uncontrollably, watches Arthur’s face go red: C’mon, you’re so good, w-wish you could see yourself like this, mouth around me like this. Keeps his hips still, from fear of really choking Arthur, but inches his leg forward, nudges the toe of his boot towards the front of Arthur’s work jeans and puts pressure down. He watches Arthur’s eyes flutter, nearly roll, and the resulting groan he makes when Kieran presses vibrates through him. Kieran chokes on air, doubles over Arthur with his hands buried in his hair and comes so hard he’s seeing stars.

Arthur swallows. When he pulls away, he’s gasping, coughing. Kieran leans over him, presses a sloppy kiss to his forehead, a cheekbone, his panting, parted lips. Tells him how good he is, how good he really is, and Arthur swallows the words down.

[the-arg0naut]

Snowberry

hi okay so @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors i wrote a thing for english class and i actually really like it so ee

quick thing tho it is an AU, where virge was never put under and the boys just Exist

durant doesnt exist bc he doesnt deserve rights

~~~

Everyone in little Wickhills, Ohio, knew about the Sanders’ changeling boy. The whole town had been called on that night. They knew about the fae woman who’d tried to trade her son for theirs, and was then refused either child by Dot, their mother. Most townsfolk didn’t approve, thinking it was “bringing the enemy into our midst.” However, everyone in Wickhills also knew to keep their mouths shut, unless they wanted to find themselves wandering into a fairy circle and never wandering back out.

It was on Halloween night. The Sanders boys were about 16, and were elated to finally be allowed to go trick-or-treating without their parents hovering behind them (well, it was more Thomas who was excited. Logan didn’t much see the appeal in dressing up and asking strangers for candy, but it made his brother happy). Thomas was dressed in his favorite Spiderman costume, and Logan Frankenstein’s monster. Even with the prosthetics and makeup, though, it was still impossible to ignore Logan’s pointy ears and quicksilver eyes. That was the only thing differentiating their appearances; changeling children take the form of the child they replace. Since he was never given back to the fae woman, he just passed off as Thomas’ twin. Closely enough.

They’d left Mrs. Coughenour’s house with the weirdest candies they’d ever seen. Wrapped in bits of parchment paper, they smelled of some strong floral flavor. 

“I think it’s lavender. This one is, at least.” “Lavender? Why would there be lavender candies? Who makes those?”

“Mrs. Coughenour, apparently”

Logan popped said lavender candy into his mouth. He would never admit it, even once fully grown, but those were his favorite. They relaxed him. Sometimes it just seemed to serve as yet another reminder that he wasn’t human, but he tried not to think about that.

“Whatever. I just hope Ms. Gage has good candy.”

“It’s Ms. Gage. She’ll either have really good candy that Roman will hijack, or, as you say, ‘old people candy.’”

“Okay, look, it’s always the old people that have those caramels. I’ve never even seen them at the store, so they’ve gotta just appear in their candy bowls once they hit 80.”

“Ms. Gage is seventy.”

“Close enough!”

They continued to bicker back and forth, as brothers do, as they walked down the road to Ms. Gage’s house, unaware of the two bright purple eyes watching them from between the trees. 

After they had been walking for a good twenty minutes, Thomas muttered a little suspiciously, “Haven’t we been walking for just a little while longer than it usually takes?”

Logan paused. He was right. Usually, the walk was only ten to fifteen minutes max, and they weren’t by any familiar landmarks.

“Logan, what time is it?”

“12:02 AM”

Thomas shuddered. “Midnight.”

At this Logan rolled his eyes. “Come on now, Thomas, sure it’s late, but even if one of the Good Neighbors is playing a trick on us, it doesn’t make it any worse that it’s midnight. It’s just a time of day, arbitrary to even the fair folk.”

Thomas nodded, unconvinced. “Can we just walk a little faster then? I wanna get to Ms. Gage’s”

“If that’s what would help ease your fear, then of course.”

They quickened the pace, Thomas clinging close to his brother. Five more minutes without anything they recognized, Thomas was beginning to get a little hysterical, spouting off all kinds of things that could happen if the Good Neighbors had decided they had done something to offend them. Logan did his best to dissipate and alleviate those fears, but truth be told, he was starting to feel some of them himself, especially when they turned a corner and found themselves upon the street they had just walked off.

They had just passed under an old street lamp when they saw it; a silhouette. It was impossible to see any physical features in the dim light, but they somehow knew that it was watching them. They blinked and it was gone.

“Well, that was a bit alarming.”

“Yeah, you think?!” Panic was quickly rising in Thomas. “We’re stuck in an endless loop of nothing but,” he glanced at the street sign, “Morningside Drive, and we just saw someone or something staring at us and then, poof, gone. I think we’re well past ‘a bit alarming,’ Lo-”

Logan cut him off, pressing a hand to his mouth. “Quiet for a second. Listen.” Thomas listened. Muttering against his brother’s hand, “I don’t hear anything, Lo. Have you gone completely bonkers?”

Logan muttered something about humans and poor hearing before grabbing his hand and running. “Logan! What’s going on?”

“A hunt, I could hear the horses! Just run!”

Oh god, why tonight, why when we’re just the worst equipped ever- oh gosh I can hear it now oh gosh we are so dead, we can’t outrun horses, what do we look like, fae? Well, only one of us, and even then what the hell am I supposed to-

He tripped over a tree root, sending him sprawling across the ground. Logan pulled at his arm, telling him to get up, but it was no use. The hunt was upon them. Thomas just curled up in a ball and waited for the inevitable. Logan wrapped his arms around him, trying to shield as much of him as possible. The whoops and hollers of the fae were deafening and that was all they could hear and could they please just get it over with-

And then there were screams. But it wasn’t their screams. Logan tilted his head up in confusion. A figure (was it the same one we saw earlier? Logan thought) was standing over them. When Thomas later recounted the story, he said that the shadows themselves seemed to morph and shift, surrounding the hunters, sometimes killing them, sometimes just vanishing them into thin air with the mysterious figure seemingly controlling all of it. Logan could only sit and stare, his arms still wrapped around his brother. 

Before long, the whole hunt had either run away or been killed, leaving the shadowy figure standing alone in front of them. It turned, revealing those same purple eyes. It crouched before them, speaking softly so as not to scare them any more than they already were. “Are you two alright?” Logan seemed unable to form words, so Thomas stuttered out a “Y-yeah, we’re good. Who, if you don’t mind me asking… who are you?” 

The shadowy figure pulled their hood down, revealing moonlight pale skin and sharp, pointed ears, the same as Logan. Both boys immediately knew they were in the presence of another fae, as if the previous display hasn’t already convinced them enough. The fae boy (Was he really a boy though, Thomas later argued, because fae are immortal. He could’ve been a thousand years old! Logan had rolled his eyes, saying He appeared as an adolescent, even by fae standards.) smiled at them, saying “You can call me V.”

Logan, regaining his ability to speak, said, “Well, thank you V, for saving us. Had you not appeared, I believe we would have been, in the modern vernacular, ‘toast.’” V laughed at this. “Yes, I do believe you two would’ve been ‘toast.’ Come now, I’ll help you get where you’re going, without any more… Rude interruptions.” He held his hand out, standing. The twins shared a look, doing their “mind-reading thing,” as Roman always put it. Then, simultaneously, the reached their hands up at him, Logan’s perhaps imperceptibly shaking a little more than Thomas’. V’s hand closed around theirs (Gosh, he had a big hand -- He was tall, tall people just naturally have larger extremities. Although perhaps his fae nature only assisted in that), and they seemed to melt into the shadow, reappearing behind a tree near Ms. Gage’s house.

V released them, gesturing towards the little cottage. “Go on now, and don’t let me see you running from any more fae.” It would’ve sounded like a threat, but he was smiling, and Logan couldn’t even fathom how he would be scared of him. Thomas laughed a little, a little stumbly from the ‘shadow-melty-transportation,’ as Thomas phrased it, saying “No promises. C’mon, Berry!” He ran (kinda) off towards the cottage, but Logan hung back. “Berry? What a cute name.”

“It’s not my actual name, of course, we’re not that dumb as to give you our real names, and neither are you. Berry is simply a nickname for me, just as Bug is my nickname for him.”

“Good. You two are smart. Use those smarts next time, and bring iron. Or,” and he paused, casting a smug eye on him, “Perhaps not. You are fae, are you not?”

“Couldn’t tell from the pointy ears and silver eyes? My, perhaps it was a good choice to not give you our names.”

“Ah, don’t get too smart with me now. I did save your hides.” “That you did, and I am eternally grateful, your majesty, let me shine your shoes and kiss your hand, blah blah blah, I’m going now.”

“Very funny, very funny.”

Logan turned to go, V silent behind him, before saying

“...Will I see you again, Snowberry?”

He paused at the nickname, turning a little pink. “... I suppose I could not stop you if you visited me. Though hopefully not under such dire circumstances again.” “One can hope.”

Logan smiled a little and nodded in farewell. V waved a little, and Logan turned, walking towards the cottage. V sighed, watching till he was out of sight, before melting into the shadow.

[sweetboybucky]

Dreamers

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2600

Warnings: Infinity War compliant. Aka - a lot of sads. 

Summary: In the time he is gone, one thing remains. 

A/N: My piece for the Marvellous Writing Challenge, hosted by the angel @bucky-at-bedtime, who was so kind as to give me an extension. (Jess - I love you so much, I hope you know.) My prompt was “Saudade”, and what was originally going to be a sequel to my one other angst fic, Golden, turned into this. Please don’t kill me. 

Taking a page out of @evanstarff‘s book for this one and going with a reader adopted into a Wakandan family. There are also a few notes at the end, if you want to read those. 

My Masterlist

*** A war was waged.

The aftermath sits in front of you.

Rests there, in the ocean blue eyes of a soldier you have only just begun to know. The one you’d once only heard stories of.

The man with more burdens to carry than you could ever imagine. With the weight of an ungrateful and unforgiving world on his shoulders. The world he’s worked to save so many times.

A silent apology.

A wish for things to be different.

Tears.

You find them there, in that harrowing expression on a face that should never wear it.

You don’t ask.

You know.

***

There is a space between the world you know and all of the others you’ve come to discover in your time. Those realities that hold the souls of all that have been lost. The souls you still have yet to meet. A mirror image of the life you know.

You find him there, in the night.

His voice calls out to you, where you rest in that hazy middle ground. And it’s strong, like it always was. Strong even when it had no reason to be, even when he wasn’t. It pulls you into the inky night with its soft timbre, your name spreading tendrils of awareness through you.

It wakes something within you. Something raw and real and aching as you search for him. As you reach blindly into that darkness. Hoping and hoping and hoping.

But he’s just beyond your grasp. A breath away, whispering to you. Your name falls into the dark from lips you want to see more than anything. Lips you want to trace with your fingers, kiss until the world has finished turning.

You whisper back to him, voice desperate and pleading through the darkness.

***

Ochre light brings a new day.

It flecks across walls and floor and sheets. Sheets that should hold him beside you, the man who laid his soul out to bare for you on them in memories tinged with a certain fondness.

Memories that don’t flow like fire, the way they once had.

Memories that sting in the aftermath.

That careful ember, the one he’d lit within you, has left the hollow in your chest. Lit the sun, instead. Forced a new morning into your hands. A world he no longer breathes in.

And your heart aches with strangled sobs, body curling around his pillow and pressing into the sheets that still smell like him. Eyes close, shut out the view of the home he made in the quiet.

But reality exists without him, now.  

That fact is carving itself into your bones.

***

Many hours later, once dawn has truly broken and everything has settled heavy into your heart once again, you find your self on a trail he showed to you.

Green folds around you. Leads you to the little hillside he found, sitting just to the side of his farm. Above the lake. Another corner of the world he could almost call his own.

The place he still wanted to share with you.

And it feels wrong, settling into the grass on your own. Tracing trembling fingers through dark dirt instead of threading them through chestnut hair. Resting in that quiet place he first showed to you. Before everything began.

Before the end.

Blue sky and soft clouds roam overhead. Sparkling waters lie still beneath you. Trees brush together in the breeze, echo against the emptiness of the space. In your heart.

It’s a view you’ve seen so many times. A place you’ve spent so many afternoons, with a man far more beautiful than any sunset could ever be. And even before he came to you, the sky was still there.

It feels different now. So unlike the other days you spent underneath it.

Sitting on the grassy hill with the absence of that warm arm around your back. Lips against your skin, a rumbly voice finding its own special place within your heart.

It feels final.

***

Every night is the same.

Dark and cold. Lined with wanting. Frenzied thoughts and soft confessions and an ache so real it nearly eats you alive.

His voice speaks back to you, quiet but strong as ever. Soft in that way it always was, affection bleeding through every word he murmurs to you.

And then morning falls onto you once again. Draws muted light to your eyes and a desperate plea from your lips as fingers search for the body that should lay beside you against cool, threadbare sheets

But morning is an ever present thing.

Light always washes him away.

***

For weeks, Bucky’s voice finds you at night. In the dark.

One day, in the hours the sun claims, a different voice is there.

It’s a soft whisper. A careful, “Hey,” as he settles in the grass next to you. Watches the way the lake shines with the light of midday.

You turn to him for a moment. Notice the dulled expression on his face. See the way his once golden hair falls against his face, unkempt and dark. The set of his jaw, the line of his mouth, not even a hint of a smile tugging at the edges.

He’s worn. More so than you.

He’s lost. Same as you.

Ocean eyes stay trained on the sky. But his lips part enough to murmur, “He talked about you.”

Bucky’s face comes into your mind, easy as anything. And surprise lights through you at Steve’s words, pained and heavy.

Lashes shield irises filled with regret. “He talked about you all the time.” Eyes flick to you, just for a moment. Burn through your mind and body and soul. “I don’t think we had one conversation where he didn’t bring you up.”

His face tips down, gaze falling to callused hands in his lap. There’s a ghost of a smile in his voice as he adds, “I always teased him about it. How crazy he was about you.”

Tears gather around your eyes, warm and wet and burning through the last bit of your resolve.

Steve glances at you, expression just a little softer once its aimed toward you. “I’d never seen him that way. Even before - before everything.” He bumps his shoulder into yours, a fond, cautious gesture. “There were girls, but none of them were you.”

And that hurts more than it should. More than you think he meant it to. Coming from the man your love trusted with anything, defended at every turn. Spoke of like a vision, a dream he was so lucky to live in.

Tears slip down your face in the silence. As Steve turns away, face twisted and creased and pained. You can see the slump of his shoulders. Feel the inhale he takes, steeling himself his next words. For what’s to come.

“It never hurts any less,” he tells you, voice quieter than you’ve ever heard. An echo of the heartache he keeps locked away. Fingers trace over a blade of grass. “But it gets easier to manage. Just takes time.”

A hand reaches for yours, firm and rough and trembling just a little, fingers squeezing against your own. And his voice is so sincere, so real as he breathes out one last sentiment. Something that is both the balm for your soul and everything you don’t want to hear.

“But, wherever he is, now, he loves you just the same.”

***

That hollow spaces fits against you, the same way it has every other night since the end.

For a long while, the stillness of it washes over you. Inky black and completely silent.

But you can feel him. You can always feel him.

Is it true?

It’s a question breathed into the quiet. One torn from your chest, filled with longing.

He doesn’t ask what you’re referring to. He doesn’t need to.

There’s only a soft sigh. The feeling of him as he answers.

Always, he tells you, reverent and final in the way you need. Always.

***

Time is such a cruel thing, now.

It moves against you. Presses into your skin, falls into your mind with a terrible kind of determination. It pushes the world on, pushes you on. Forces you to watch the new reality you live in try to rebuild itself.

It brings you to your apartment.

Months have passed since you’ve seen it, his hut serving as your home and your hell in that time. But you know that you can’t stay there forever. You can’t bear to sleep in a bed of ghosts any longer.

The lock clicks the same as it always did, the door creaking in that familiar way. It gives way to the living room, small kitchen just adjacent to it.

Everything is in its place. Nothing has changed.

And yet - it has.

There’s no soft greeting waiting for you, anymore. No feet to slide along the floor, no arm to curl around you and tuck you against his body. Lips to kiss away the crease in your brows, the ache in your bones.

But his book sits on the table. His favorite blanket is tucked into the corner of the couch. A worn pair of sneakers near the door. The dark green mug he always used in the sink. 

The remnants of him are still here. Scattered around one of the only other places he’d been able to find refuge.

***

Phantom memories find you in the dust of your apartment.

Chestnut hair mussed in the morning. The smell of his favorite tea. Soft socks and all of the sweaters you stole from him. Pressing into this side, holding his hand at the market. Whispering to him when the ice crept back into his heart.

The stories he told you. Stories of the sky, the stars.

The same stars under your tired gaze now.

And even after everything, even in the absence of the man who loved them most, those stars remain the same. Unchanged by the rest of the world’s decisions.

They shine among inky blue. Glisten in the darkness, mapped out along an impossibly big sky. Absolute and so unknown. Arranged in their intricate patterns.

He spent more nights than you could count studying them. Resting near the large bay window of your apartment in a city still so unfamiliar to his weary heart. A city he grew so fond of. A city that grew so fond of him.

And he held you in the night. Brushed his lips against your skin and whispered about a constellation you couldn’t see. A woman given a beautiful crown, written into the stars once she’d passed. A reminder of who she was.

A reminder that, more than anything, she was loved, even after she was lost.

So much longing lies within you. Grief you never imagined you would feel. A fierce kind of sadness that takes over your mind and heart and soul and leaves you aching.

But more than anything, there is love.

You close your eyes against the sky those gray eyes loved to see and wish him into the stars.

***

Seasons pass. Come in with the cold and leave with the warm. Draw in new breezes and heady air and fleeting thoughts. Fleeting images of pale cheeks flushed with cool wind, with summer air.

And with every passing day, that face is a little harder to remember.

The line of his nose. The little wrinkles near his eye, those that only appeared in the face of his smile. Gray eyes sliding open in the morning, sparking with the possibility of a new day.

It grows fuzzy, the image of him, the sound of his laughter, as years that hardly feel like years drone on. As life moves on despite it all.

Anger festers within you. Rivals with the grief that still lives on, even after all this time. Even after the exact shade of his eyes isn’t as easy to conjure in your mind anymore.

But that soft affection you felt for him. That fierce kind of fondness, blinding and overwhelming and so strong. 

That remains. 

Even as years wane. As time spans on and life without him shifts into something close to normal. 

The way he made you feel - the way he always makes you feel - never dies down. Never shrinks in the face of a new sunrise, as dawn falls onto the world and his voice slips away. 

It only grows stronger. 

***

The hollow still finds you in that strange place between your reality and his. Dark and cold and full of him. So close you can almost feel him. So real it hurts.

And his voice is still there, murmuring things you don’t really listen to. Echoing around the empty space he should be, that soft little place you made for him in your heart. 

It’s a blessing, to know he’s there. To know he’s somewhere. 

It’s a curse, to know he’s somewhere you can’t reach him. Not really. 

So you hold onto his voice. Try to grasp the threads of it in your fingers. Close your eyes and let it fall over you, gentle and calm and beautiful as it is. 

***

It’s a rising tension in the air. A shift in the world, so similar to the one you felt years ago. Before the end.

Another war has begun.

***

The night he doesn’t visit you, his favorite stars do.

They gather you up in their impossibly soft embrace. Hold you close, keep you warm. Shelter you from the darkness and the grief, even if only for a few moments.

In the space between the lines, the thin veil of reality you’ve been able to find, where he is close and still so far, they whisper to you.

A story forms through the haze of their voices. One of two lovers set in the sky, separated by a river of stars between them. Close enough to taste each other. Destined to be apart.

But for one night, the heavens open up. And the two are offered the gift of time. Allowed to be together, even if only for a moment.

Bucky’s voice permeates through it all. Parts the dark of the sky, the river of stars lying between you. He calls out your name, fierce and desperate and full of love. So much love.

He’s close. You know he is. You can feel him, drawing toward you with every passing second.

***

You wake to tense air and soft light. Something strong beating within you, like the tap of his pulse has settled into your skin.

He’s so close.

Rumpled sheets gather in your hands, those that have long since lost any trace of his smell. Eyes close against the fabric, breaths shudder through a weary chest.

For the first time since the end, you hope.

***

The world has crumbled once again.

Been marred by the jaws of fate. Splintered in ways no one can ever hope to repair. Developed cracks that you know can never be filled.

But as the dust settles, he is there.

His face is worn but soft in that way it always was. Warm and open and kind, fixed with the bright smile that had grown fuzzy around the edges in your hazy memory. Slate eyes find yours through the distance, across the grassy patch of his home.

An eternity has passed.

And yet, no time has drawn between the two of you at all.

Fondness rings through you, clear as anything. That sting of grief, the ache of longing fades into something achingly familiar. Gives way to the one feeling that never left, even on the darkest days. Even in the moments you were sure it would.

Love.

It sings in the air, fills your heart and mind and soul and pushes you forward a step. Then another. Until he’s right in front of you. Broken and ragged and different.

But still.

He’s beautiful.

Grin grows. Teeth flash. Lines spark up near his eyes, so small and so sweet.

Bucky holds out his hand.

You take it.

***

Notes:

Title taken from ‘Rainbow Connection’ by Sleeping At Last. 

I took another page out of @evanstarff‘s book and made a playlist for this fic, which you can find here. 

The constellations used in this piece are Corona Borealis, or The Northern Crown, and the story of Altair and Vega. (The interpretations I went by are not the only variations of this story, just those I thought fit best.)

A huge thank you to the incredible Star Queen, @fangirlfiction, for lending me her expertise in the space things for this fic. 

One more thank you, to my beautiful love, @marvelous-avengers, who read and cried before posting, who is always there when I need her - I adore you more than you could ever know. Thank you for everything. 

MAIN TAG LIST:

@solarbarnes II @akamaiden II @my-meant-to-find-blog II @marvelous-avengers II @jack4xx II @buckyforbreakfast II @theglowstickofdestiny II @bucky-at-bedtime II @notimetoblog II @deceivedeer II @teawithbucky II @veronicalei II @part-time-patronus II @thunderous-flower II @thelostverse II @delicatecapnerd II @pizzarollpatrol II @laurfangirl424 II @stevieboyharrington II @yknott81 II @bucky-smiles II @buckysb-tch II @a-watson-in-search-of-a-sherlock II @heartssick II @spxder-bxck II @bottled-starr II @buckybarneshairpullingkink II @yenneffersstuff II @fangirlfictionmain II @creideamhgradochas II @queenofstarliqht II @dessinemoiunehistoire

[karmanticmoved]

1-85 uwu

j esus okay

1. describe yourself.

uh,, emotional ig, dumbass, quiet, exhausted all of the time, v queer, healthy mix of feminine and masculine, insecure, and not tha t great tbh. kinda a pussy ass b itch

2. if you could go anywhere for a week all expenses paid where would it be?

idrk. maybe somewhere like a hella nice beach in another country, maybe somewhere in europe. i like travelling but i hate the travel to get there and have no money so i havent put thought into it. maybe hawaii or somewhere like that.

3. do you have siblings?

the one thats still alive is my half brother

4. what is your favorite constellation, why?

orion maybe bc i don't know a lot but i can see that one from my bedroom window even in the city n idk. its comforting. or scorpius cause i'm a scorpio

5. favorite color.

yellow, pink, or blue.

6. what kind of music do you listen to?

almost anything. whatever catches my interest.

7. favorite flower. (you can name as many as you want cause flowers are awesome)

forgot what i said last time but those

yellow carnations i think?

8. if you could do magic, what is the first spell you would learn?

maybe smth to put myself to sleep immediately bc f uCk

9. favorite childhood memory.

my summer camp memories are pretty great. also memories of my dad and i going fishing are good.

10. have you ever been cheated on?

i mean in theory i couldve been bc online relationships but no. n im polyam and have identified as such for a majority of my relationships so no.

11. if you could describe your perfect room, what would it be?

big but not too big, yknow? like big enough that it can be filled and have room to walk around and lay on the ground or whatever but not Empty. and a pretty big bed to stretch out on, n a closet in the room. multiple windows w blackout curtains so theres light but it can be blocked out. n fluffy rugs or carpeting but preferably rugs in case smth spills so we can get it out of at least Remove the rug. and probably a cat tree thing in corner for dipper. n a computer desk and actual lights that light up the whole room. but probably,, fairy lights too bc full lights too bright. and i kinda want a pink room but blue or yellow work also. a nd pride flags on the walls + posters and various other stuff bc plain walls are boring. and tons n tons of b ooks too.

12. favorite animal.

river otter

13. what was the last photo you took of?

cat

14. do you believe in soul mates?

i'm not sure. i do kinda think there are people who you will like. really really click with and who become so important in your life that they're like. apart of u yknow? but i don't think that anyone as an individual needs to keep those people in their life forever. they arent destined to stay with them, and they shouldnt force that relationship (platonic, familial, romantic, or whatever) even if they were close for years and years. screw destiny. youll have people you care about, and sometimes you have to break that bond to save yourself, and thats okay. there will be other people who can and will be just as important. that got kinda off topic skbsks. i don't think theres really like Destiny soulmates. but there could be like. soulmates in the sense of for however long we're together, we're soul bonded. even if its not forever. does that even make se nse skbsns

15. do you hang toilet paper over or under?

over is the one thats socially acceptable right

16. your go to place to eat & your favorite thing to get there.

idk theres a place near a movie theater closeish to my house and its a nice little cafe and i dont eat there bc i dont eat much in general but i get their bubble tea and i love. raspberry bubble tea w rose popping bubbles. its comfort drink.

17. do you believe everything happens for a reason?

no. sometimes shit happens for no reason, and its bullshit, but you can't reverse it, so you gotta figure out how to move on from it.

18. guilty pressures?

im assuming thats meant to be pleasures

umm,, idrk. i don't know what exactly i like that would count as a guilty pleasure so,,

19. favorite mythical creature, why?

merpeople are s o cool i fuckin. love funky aquatic pals hell yeah. maybe im just Water babey but. they're rad. dragons are also hella cool bc like dragons???? theyre scaly and prett y and can breathe fire or have wings and kill u?? also like selkies bc again. water. but i used to hear a lot of stories abt them and theyre so nea t

20. something most people don’t know about you.

i have the potential to be a huge asshole and also kinda Wish to fuckin murder someone sometimes but. i act nice most of the time anyway.

not murder murder but i can get angr y enough that i just wanna Stab smth

21. where did you grow up, what was it like?

grew up kinda near the edge of the city, still in it but not like the main city area. in western washington. it was kinda rly boring, i used to spend a lot more time outside or just by myself playing with leaves or toys or whatever. when i had friends i played make believe w them even when outside of school. so yeah. boring id say.

22. do you believe aliens exist?

sure.

23. what was your last google search?

other than names for some actors n stuff, i was looking up various star wars things

24. what did your last relationship teach you?

the one that like. ended? i guess thatd be. be careful with your own feelings and try to figure them out before jumping into anything, and also don't try to force smth that in reality isnt really working.

25. would you relocate for love?

honestly yeah

26. do you hold grudges or forgive easy?

both. it just depends on how badly i or someone i care about was hurt by it. more likely to hold a grudge if a friend was hurt by someone d eep enough to leave a lasting impact or if they don't get a genuine apology i will be 🔫🔫. or if the person keeps hurting them. even if that person is also my friend.

27. favorite book.

favorite graphic novel is bloom by kevin panetta

favorite books in general are autoboyography, more happy than not, and what if its us. all gay. i know. its okay. im a kinnie.

28. do you consider yourself an extrovert or introvert?

introvert by far

29. have you ever kept a journal, do you now?

i tried once. i probably will have to once i go see a therapist, or at least one for my Bad Thoughts

30. top 5 favorite movies.

in no particular order

little shop of horrors, love simon, coco, it (2017 and 1990), and shazam! ig? maybe others but i definitely Forgot all the shit ive watched

31. do you believe that everything happens for a reason?

no

32. what is your greatest fear?

definitely gotta be all of the people i love hating me and abandoning me or secretly hating me and then leaving me without saying anything. and the worst part is im always afraid its gonna happen babeyy

33. favorite alcoholic beverage.

im baby

34. most embarrassing thing you’ve done.

im embarrassed by my own existence. i don't remember the Most embarrassing thing

35. do you believe in ghosts?

not until i have proof that i can actually trust and believe in

36. what is the best and worst part of your personality?

idk ig im nice. but im also. very easily set off on certain emotions especially the bad ones which sucks like especially jealousy bc i dont wanna!! feel jealous!! tho i think that ties into my greatest fear bc my brain immediately tells me im useless to everyone and they hate me. but. sometimes i get jealous and then feel bad for that and then hate myself for all of it. bc my friends deserve to hang out w other people and care about other people im just fucking stupid babey !!

37. should you split the dinner bill?

i rly don't get why you wouldnt tbh like if u both wanna be there u should both pay. but if one person gonna pay it should be the person that asked.

38. are you a good liar?

most of the time. when it comes to my mental health i can either lie great or im literally breaking down in front of the person so

39. what keeps you up at night?

depressing thoughts. anxiety about everything. wishing i could cuddle and fall asleep w jay. sometimes i just cant sleep bc im too restless.

40. would you rather go without your phone or music?

music. i need my phone to text my friends and i Need my friends

41. do you believe in god?

what god would let the world get to the point its at. what god would allow people to do such fucked up shit.

no. i don't.

42. how do you relax when frustrated?

cry, take a nap, take a shower, listen to music, cuddle dipper

43. what’s something that offends you?

when people go "oh yeah i support gay rights but im still gonna eat at chick fil a bc its good" like i get so fucking. pissed off by that. youre not gonna fucking s ta rv e without their goddamn chicken. i know a bi person who goes there and says its okay bc they dont Directly Give Their money to Specifically anti gay organisations but im just. ugh. fucking pissed bc there are other places to get food just avoid the one place for fucks sake. their food is good it doesnt matter. its like saying yeah pewdiepie is a bad person and nazi and a racist asshole but his videos r funni haha so im gonna watch him anyway

44. favorite food

i hate myself whenever i eat food

45. if you were on a 10 hour flight and could sit and talk to any person the entire time, who would it be?

@destinedformuchmore or @pinaplelee

46. when do you feel the most confident?

never? but ig i feel confident when working on tech construction during theater tech. as long as i know what im doing.

47. what do you do in your free time?

sleep. draw. cry. play video games. talk to my friends.

48. is there anyone who has completely lost your respect

matpat did for being a dick abt neopronouns and making a transphobic joke and only apologizing when a cis person told him to. not when hundreds of trans people did. and also other jokes that are inherently offensive to various groups. a n d for making extremely not Child friendly jokes in his videos which are very much targeted towards kids. say what you will about the target audience, there are a lot of children who watch them. please stop making creepy nsfw jokes if you won't even swear, sir.

49. have you ever broken someone’s heart?

i guess so yeah. but she also broke mine first.

50. did/do you play sports in school?

i did. i don't anymore bc highschool sports are bullshit but. basketball, ultimate, and soccer.

51. when are you happiest?

talkin 2 jay prolly

52. coffee or tea?

tea

53. what is one possession you own you wouldn’t want to live without?

my binder. or my stuffed cat puppet thing ive had since i was 7

54. what is the first thing you notice about a person?

their general emotions, mostly. like if theyre in a good mood or if theyre bored or distracted or whatever. or if they seem interested in actually talking to me

55. what is your favorite season, why?

fall. my birthday, the atmosphere is nice, it's pretty, its hoodie weather.

56. what makes you laugh?

stupid little comments or jokes my friends make tend to make me laugh a lot harder than i should but jabdn

57. are you a clean or messy person?

a mix. i Cannot have some things messy or i will ksjqkd. Die but i don't make my bed too often bc its ha rd when its against 3 walls.

58. what is important for a successful relationship?

communication communication communicati

talk about ur goddamn problems n keep talking to each other.

59. what was your upcoming like?

if thats supposed to be upbringing

idk, very relaxed. pretty easygoing and kinda boring.

60. favorite holiday?

any holiday in december rly. i don't celebrate a Lot but the atmosphere and others celebrating is nice to see. i kinda wish my parents did more to embrace the jewish part in our family blike. whatever. christmas is fun.

61. what is the first thing you’d do if you won the lottery?

give half of it to my parents. and then probably use it for plane ticket

62. what’s the best pizza topping combination?

hawaiian pizza. pinapple n canadian bacon ty

63. favorite outdoor activity.

frisbee

64. how are you? honestly.

not great. i want highschool to end.

65. would you rather go camping in the woods or stay at a beach resort?

idk. camping is fun but if i get to stay at the resort for free i would rly love 2 stay at a resort tbh ive never done that

66. what is the most beautiful thing in nature?

waterfalls. or rivers or just. water in nature. and very green forests. aNd snow.

67. favorite type of candy?

none

68. if your life was a book, what would be the title?

i can and will do arson, an autobiography

69. what movie quotes do you use of a regular bases?

i quote john mulaney and whatever my obsessions are pretty regularly

70. what was cool when you were young but not cool now?

silly bandz. pokemon cards. these weird unicorn figures i collected

71. what’s the craziest conversation you have ever eves dropped on?

im mostly the one having the weird conversations

72. what’s the most interesting documentary you’ve ever watched?

i watched one about dogs and cats and their evolution which was lit

73. what’s the worst hairstyle you’ve had?

when i let the lady just go fuckin ham on my hair bc i was watching spirit that horse movie and didnt wanna stop so it was. rly bad bangs and hella short in back but not the sides

74. what do you like to cook?

whatever im hungry for. i don't have the energy to cook a lot

75. what’s the coolest animal you’ve seen in the wild?

really pretty tropical fish

76. what’s the funniest tv show you’ve ever seen?

idk. i rly like schitts creek its pretty amusing

77. do you usually follow your heart or your head?

heart at first but my head if things get bad

78. what is your favorite quote?

"i have a splitting headache and i think i'm dying. how are you?"

or a character just saying "try harder" when another failed to do smth.

this is supposed to be deep or whatever but im in a Mood

79. what’s the weirdest crush you have ever had?

once had a crush on a character in a minecraft parody lmao

80. what’s your love language?

sending shit that makes me think of them. n just. making tons of stuff for them both online and irl like bracelets.

81. do you ever feel alone?

oh yeah. all the time. im not but it feels like i am which sucks

82. ever been bullied?

yeah

83. are you usually early or late?

late bc of my parents rip

84. what kind of art do you enjoy most?

drawing, or writing. also theater.

85. what do you wish you knew more about?

i just wish i could remember everything ive learned more about. i know a lot i just forget all.

id like to know more about forensics tho

[howdoyouspellepiphany]

The Prophecy

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Park jimin (DemonAU)

Words: 5653 words

Summary: Long ago, the Divines and Fallens received a prophecy that promises their demise in the hands of a mortal that says:

Beautiful as the creature may be, fire doesn’t burn, ice doesn’t freeze, water doesn’t drown and lightning doesn’t destroy.

Now, the demon prince (Min Yoongi) meets a pink-haired waiter (Park Jimin) who looks like heaven and smells like sin. As their relationship blossom, the Divines and Fallens are beginning to wonder about the prophecy.

Warnings: Crude language, ignorant author

Note: I kind of know how Tumblr works now. Yay

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 5

Chapter 4

Min Yoongi is known to be a heavy sleeper who once slept for 2 days straight without an ounce of remorse. He remembers the good times when he wakes to burnt candles and the smell of spider lilies. It took him a while to realise that his room has been transformed into a shrine to respect his ‘departed’ soul. His father had his mother come to Infernum to see him for ‘the last time’. Yoo Jung was seen wailing when she hears about her son from her husband. That year, autumn came faster than any other years as Demeter tried to calm her daughter down. But the thought of losing her son hurts.

 When he wakes, he wakes to his mother hugging him and was engulfed in a bone-crushing hug from his little brother and Namjoon. He got a beating from Jin and Hoseok refused to talk to him for days. Yoongi did receive an earful from his parents and was – what happened afterwards? His memory doesn’t serve him any justice as the memory appears to be fragmented and lost. But it is expected since he did lose a big chunk of his childhood; only retaining a few important ones.

When Yoongi was forced to act as regent, even the slightest noise wakes him up. Nothing gives him peace anymore and whenever Namjoon or any other council members try to start a conversation with him, it’s never about music or the sky. It’s always about work and more work. And eventually, sleep doesn’t seem as important like it once used to. Not when all the creatures living on Earth that are registered under Vescor is under his protection and not when he has a kingdom to run. Sure, if he wants to, he can use aggression and violence to get things done but that’s not what Hades had taught him. The king of Infernum had taught him to be fair and that’s exactly what he will become; fair.

In the dead of the night, Namjoon stumbles in the room through a small door connecting the hall and their shared chamber in his demon form. The said man desperately tries to be as quiet as he could despite knocking everything over. His advisor’s efforts were fruitless but it’s the thought that counts even though it’s rather painful how hard Namjoon is trying. All Yoongi is hoping now is that his pink-haired advisor doesnt leave a trail of blood on the way to their shared room. 

 Nevertheless, Namjoon in his demon form is relatively scary. He doubles his normal height and has grown claws for nails. Demon Namjoon has heterochromia – red on his left and light blue on his right with big horns on his head and two snakes as a tail. His father was the previous Asmodeus before he steps down with Ken as his successor while his mother was a Wendigo; the most powerful kind to have ever existed. Namjoon is the son of the sun and the moon and he is already very resourceful even before he took the position as Yoongi’s advisor. His once brute Namjoon now whispers curses every time he stubs his toe near a furniture and when he trips over his own leg in fear of waking Yoongi up.

Little did he know, the prince is already up the moment he steps in the front door.

When Namjoon stops near his bed, simultaneously dropping a few Ryan dolls on the floor, the demon pants as he tries to regain his human form. Yoongi quietly listens to Namjoon’s pained grunts and laboured breathing as the latter’s bones snap and crack to signal the start of the bone remodelling and the retraction of his demonic features.

It hurt.

It always hurt. How can it not? Their bones are remodelled while their extra organs/limbs are forced to retract back into the ‘slumber’ body. As for Namjoon’s case, his heterochromatic eyes and horns need to be kept too. ‘Jin-hyung would know what to do to lessen his pain,’ Yoongi thought. ‘Jin-hyung will always know what to do. They are bonded, after all.’

After a few excruciating minutes of hearing Namjoon’s grunts and pants, his advisor slumps over the bed while his two snakes slither across the bed, hissing noisily. The prince grumbles as he gets out of bed. It is futile to try and go back to sleep when his mind is at its loudest. When Yoongi approaches the two snakes, they had lowered their head and with a silent command from Yoongi, they retract into Namjoon’s body. Poor boy must have lost all his energy. Although it almost never happened to Namjoon, gathering the information must have been more tiring and energy-draining than Yoongi had originally thought. 

The mint-haired prince grabs a Ryan-themed blanket and puts it over his advisor’s body as he glances over to Jeongguk’s empty bed. It has been untouched for days and his bed still has the same, white and unwrinkled sheets. He had to resist the urge to lay on it or touch it just to spite his little brother but decided against it. Rather than fight Guk, he’d rather spend it on finding the little bastard who is trying to steal his kingdom from him.

Min Yoongi walks out of the room and makes his way towards the balcony, not forgetting to grab a box of cigarettes on the coffee table. He glances at the brown piano and decided to just sit outside. His slim fingers grab one stick and puts it between his lips. He lights it up with his forefinger as he stares at the bright lights decorating the tall buildings before him. He sucks in all the nicotine as much as he can before exhaling a puff of grey smoke. Seoul, even his sight is restricted behind the grey smoke, still resembles a lighted up Christmas tree. It is impossible for him to be at a place in the city where light doesn’t hit for it has always been so bright and festive in the heart of Seoul.

Seoul, in his eyes is bright.

But bright lights cast the biggest shadow. People can only see the superficial parts and fail to see the deep parts.

He finishes the cigarette with 2 more takes and he had extracted his wings. His grand, magnificent, black wings have made its appearance (smaller due to space constraint but the beauty of his wings can never be compromised.) and tore his pale skin and the black shirt he wore to bed in the process. Specks of blood splatters everywhere within the proximity, decorating his mother’s mini garden with tiny droplets of red. He stands on the railing as he takes in a deep breath of the early morning air.

He jumped off and with his fully extended wings, he had soared off to the dark skies where the stars decorate across the sky and the moon is hung high up in the sky. It is times like these that he enjoys most. The serendipity he feels and the ephemeral feeling of being free. Free while he is in the sky for when he steps back down, the shackles are back on his limbs, tying him down to Vescor and Infernum while his responsibilities hit him like violent waves.

If his father were here, would he have let the massacre happen? What could he have done to prevent it? The thoughts cloud his mind and once again, his eyes change colours and black takes over.

When he looks down from above, he has a very mean look on his face. One that Hades wears all the time and it’s the look of disgust and disdain. Yoongi puts all his wrath in one flock of his wings and he is almost sure that the wind will eventually turn into a tornado or cause a tsunami somewhere.

Seoul, in his eyes is black.

Seoul resembles both Paradisus and Infernum for the most part.

They are both dark and light

They are grey.

He is grey – devoid of colour, and is just a shade between the bleaching white and swallowing black.

             Before Yoongi flew back, he had stayed to watch the sunrise. Memories of Hoseok and Mejiwoo, the angel’s elder sister being created flashes through his mind. No sunrise can ever be compared to that morning Hoseok and Mejiwoo is born.

Beautiful.

They both of them are beautiful and golden.

They’re different from the grey lead Yoongi is known for.

When the prince flew back, the balcony is wiped clean of his blood and the door is left open to allow air to come in. He retracts his wings the moment he stumbles into the room as the smell of food floods his senses. He, just like any other demons don’t need food to nourish them but it doesn’t mean that they don’t enjoy it.

Yoongi pulls the torn shirt over his body as he walks confidently towards the kitchen where an expected Jin-hyung is cooking with a pastel yellow with little blue clouds apron as the male hums to a melody Yoongi easily recognizes. It was a song he used to play on the piano to show off to his friends. After… A tragedy? Yoongi doesn’t know. As far as he knew, he hasn’t played it in a long time probably due to his duties as regent but it feels like there is something else underlying it. Something must have happened that made him stop playing the piano since he couldn’t bring himself to even touch the brown, old piano his mother still keeps around just in case he changes his mind.

He walks straight to the kitchen where a cup of freshly roasted coffee is set on the table next to a bowl of rice cooked with black and red beans while Jin transfers the fried chicken to a more presentable plate after draining the excessive oil. Yoongi scans the table as he hums in approval. Jin had made a traditional Korean breakfast with the side dishes ready and he has already begun salivating. There are some tofu cooked in soy sauce and egg omelette.

“You’re making a lot. Are you expecting guests?” Jin scoffs at the playful jest as the prince sips on his coffee. It is black, sugarless and hot – just the way he likes it.

“They’re not for you.” Jin places the fried chicken on the table as he cleans his hands with some soap and dries them on his apron. Yoongi smiles a little when the table is clearly set for two since Namjoon and probably Jeongguk (whom Yoongi assumes is back due to the amount of fried chicken Jin had made) wakes up fairly late.

Jin grabs his chopsticks after Yoongi had shove a fried chicken into his mouth. Even if Jin speaks freely to Yoongi, it has never been forgotten that Yoongi is still the prince of Infernum and the son of Aphrodite respects his younger friend a lot for it. And he tends it to show it in subtle actions. “Yoongi-ah, Ken had told me that Suran-noona called yesterday, asking for you.” Yoongi grunts and shoves another mouthful of rice and chicken into his mouth. “It’s about Vescor.” Yoongi looks up from his food before resuming eating. Jin pauses for a while, as if getting a telepathic message from the prince.

‘Talk about it after breakfast.’

“Anyway, I think it’s high time you get a phone.” Jin said, mimicking Yoongi’s eating style.

“Then get me one.”

“I will. But you need to come get it at Aphrodite before nightfall.”

“Yeah, ok.” Yoongi mumbles as he asks for seconds.

“No.” Yoongi stresses, glaring at Hoseok from behind the transparent shower curtains. After breakfast, Jin left without telling him what Suran wants and Yoongi just let it be. They will be meeting soon, anyway. It shouldn’t matter if Jin had forgotten or not.

Hoseok came a few minutes after with a joyful smile and shining eyes. Apparently, the angel told Yoongi that he’ll be closing his dance studio, Gabriel for some time to help out at Yoo Jung’s floristry, ‘Bunga’.

“Hyung,” The angel whines as the demon prince growls in the shower. The angel leans against the blue and white tiles of the bathroom as supports a pout. The demon prince scowls in response as he takes a sum of shampoo and wash his mint-green hair thoroughly. He makes sure to wash his hair properly and condition it before going out. Frizzy, dried up hair is the last thing he needs during his stay on Earth. “I swear I have a good excuse.”

“What could even be a good excuse, Seokkie? You’re closing Jibril-“

“Gabriel.” Hoseok frowns.

“Same difference. They’re both your mentor’s name.”

“True, but my dance studio is ‘Gabriel’. So, say it correctly.” Yoongi sticks his head under the shower and washes his shampoo-ed hair.

“As I was saying, you closing down-”

“On a short hiatus.” Hoseok corrected once again and in turn, the irritated demon takes in a deep, sharp breath.

“Can you stop interrupting me for once, Seokkie? For fuck’s sake.” Yoongi glares at the angel who still supports the joyful smile and shining eyes. Hoseok knows that Yoongi means nothing behind his insults and welcome them with open arms.

“I need to make it clear so that you don’t get the wrong idea. I need a short break from dance, hyung.” Hoseok said, pushing himself off the humid wall as Yoongi applies conditioner to his hair. The angel takes the articles of his clothes off and joins the demon prince in the shower. “Hyung,” Hoseok said in a soft voice – the voice he uses to persuade Yoongi. “Please believe in me when I tell you that. I have been thinking about it for a while. I swear I’m not lying.” Hoseok whispers against the expanse of his skin as the latter trail kisses all over the demon prince’s back. Yoongi sighs when Hoseok wraps his arms around Yoongi’s waist.

“Dancing is your dream, Seokkie.” Yoongi whispers, staring at the steam radiating from the hot shower as he reaches over to press some body wash on his palm when Hoseok beats him to it.

“Yes, but Yoongi-hyung, helping you is a second nature to me.” Hoseok never ceases his kisses even when he lathers Yoongi’s pale, cold skin with firewood and mist scented soap. Yoongi stays quiet afterwards. What the angel said hold truths to it and the golden colour hovering Hoseok’s honey skin proves it. Hoseok is the first man and species different from Yoongi’s own that he had slept with and Yoongi still remembers the state of euphoria he felt during the night with Hoseok. He remembers the younger’s gentle touches and hushed wishes – all which he succumbs to.

But it was just one night and it made Hoseok unable to fly despite having wings of his own. His halo dimmed significantly after that night and the two of them refrained from any sexual intercourse mainly on Yoongi’s side in order to preserve Hoseok’s status as an angel. He would be damned if he ever let the younger angel fall.

He already let one get so sick, she may never be able to recover and continue her remaining life as an angel.

“Hyung,” Hoseok whispers from behind him, fingers now massaging Yoongi’s tensed back. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.” Yoongi lies behind his teeth as he continues his shower. “I’ll let you do whatever you want.” The prince says after a while of silence.

“You’ll let me work at ‘Bunga’?”

“If that’s what you really want to do.” Hoseok gives him the biggest smile he has ever seen as he hops out of the shower and grabs his clothes on the floor.

“Yes!” The angel cheers as he simply takes Yoongi’s towel and runs out the bathroom without closing the door.

“At least close the fucking door.” Yoongi grumbles.

“Oh by the way,” Hoseok sticks his head at the ajar door. “As proof that I will never regret working at ‘Bunga’ is that I overheard Jackson Wang’s trainees from Tantara Records that the ‘New Ruler of Infernum’ is going to overthrow you.” When Yoongi’s eyes darken as he stops the water flow, Hoseok raises his hands in defence. “It’s their words, not mine.”

“Overthrow me?” Yoongi chuckles darkly. “Me? What a joke.” With all the heat radiating from Yoongi’s body, the water droplets quickly turn to steam and evaporated into the thin air. “Little bastard couldn’t even enter the castle without my permission.” The castle is located in the heart of Infernum in the main, capital city, Gehenna. It is designed to pulverize anyone who doesn’t carry Hades’s blood in their veins if they ever try to leave or enter without their consent.

And his guards are trained to be loyal to the crown – all so ready to please and kill for the crown. His top general is Lucifer and followed by other 4 demons named Beelzebub, Belphegor Leviathan and Mammon. They are all trained by Hades to specifically protect the royal family and the peace of Infernum. They will never betray him.

Yoongi tells himself just that every time he finds himself alone but it gets harder to convince himself. What the prince got in return isn’t relief but strange anxiety. None of his guards back home in Infernum had contacted him and they are supposed to report to Namjoon or him every subsequent day. But no updates were given. The Styx Goddess hasn’t updated anything either but it must because that she was crowned to be regent after his absence.

He just hopes that the Goddess of Styx would try to make lessen the complications of any given matters that were given in his absence.

To come back and see the whole Infernum on fire (due to her lover, Acheron) is the last thing he wants.

By the time he got dressed, Jeongguk woke up with a pout, asking where he’s going. He’s very confident that his little brother is only acting upon reflex and that he is not even half awake yet as the younger demon struggles to keep his eyes open only to fall back to bed. Yoongi cracks a small smile and pulls the blanket over Jeongguk’s torso before making his way to the balcony.

“Are you leaving?” Hoseok says with mouth-full of rice and fried chicken as he stumbles from the kitchen.

“Only for a little while, yes. Things are strange back in Infernum. They aren’t reporting anything to me.”

“You mean, Lucifer.” Hoseok swallows as he says the fallen angel’s name in distaste. Hoseok wasn’t born yet when the whole Adam-Eve-forbidden apple fiasco and neither have Yoongi. While the angel has his own views on the fallen angel, Yoongi does too. Hoseok doesn’t understand why Lucifer couldn’t have just listened to orders even if he doesn’t want to do it. Following orders are simple. You don’t have to feel it. You just do it. It baffles the angel greatly. It’s better to just go along with things without questioning it rather than having their wings ripped off of their backs. Yoongi, on the other hand, understands where the jealousy is coming from for he would have been jealous too if his parents have another child and decided to love the child more than him. It’s the same with Lucifer. His maker practically gave him a big ‘fuck you’ and chose the human who is made out of clay. Since when did dirty-ass clay become better than fire?

“Seokkie,” Yoongi pauses as he sticks his tongue against his cheek in mild exasperation. “Not today.”

Hoseok can only sigh in response. Yoongi has never been one to actually share his business about his generals with him. Even if they are close, Yoongi can never fully trust the angel for Hoseok’s loyalty belongs to Zeus and the likes. Yoongi isnt one to hold a conversation regarding Infernum affairs with anyone other than Namjoon and Jeongguk. It isn’t anything deep it’s just how it’s always been. “Alright, sorry.” Hoseok mumbles as he swallows the food he has been munching. “I’ll be in ‘Bunga’ if you need me.”

Yoongi watches the angel retreat to the kitchen with a bowl in his hand and sighs. Hoseok is upset and truthfully, Yoongi couldn’t bring himself to care. Not now, not today.

He stands on the railings, jump off the building and allows his wings to be extracted from his skin with a sickening crack. Yoongi no longer grimaces at the sound or the pain it seems to bring whenever he summoned them when he was younger. Now, he only feels a numbing and tingly sensation. He flies up into the sky and towards a crevice in a dark area where sunlight doesn’t hit Seoul. He soars and glides with the wind and once he found a dark crevice, he speaks in an ancient language – one that Charon, the ferryman understands so that he could open the entrance for the prince.

When Yoongi returns to his palace in central Gehenna, the capital city of Infernum, Styx and her lover, Acheron is found waiting for him in the gardens on the palace. Styx had filled him in the information he wanted during his absence and she admitted that she hasn’t been able to update him on anything due to Lucifer’s disappearance.

“It’s bad, Your Highness. The Sluaghs are all over the place now that Lucifer isn’t around to keep an eye on them.” Styx says, rushing towards Yoongi as soon as the man steps in the premises of the palace. Styx is a woman who is made of water with long, flowy hair. She is the guardian and the Goddess of Styx River, the main of the 5 rivers surrounding Infernum. Her lover, Acheron, is the guardian of the fiery river in Infernum, the Acheron River. The man doesn’t speak much and when he does, he only tends to only speak to his lover. The man of big build next to Styx has red hair and red eyes. “Lethe, Coccytus and Phlegethon have been trying to curb the Sluaghs along with Leviathan. But for some reason, my prince,” Styx says, warily looking around. “The Sluaghs said something about the ‘New Ruler of Infernum’.”

‘Fuck’ Yoongi closes his eyes in annoyance. ‘Lucifer is gone? Where the fuck did her go?’ His patience is really wearing thin. One: Is the cause of his anxiety was proven to be right? Two: If he ever hears another one calling the bastard the ‘New Ruler of Infernum’, his hands will really be their new choker. “What did they say, Styx-noona?” Yoongi’s voice wavers as he tries to remain calm. It is much too dangerous for him to lose control in the public eye.

“I think matters such as these are best discussed in the protection of the castle walls.” Styx said, touching her lover’s hand, burning herself in the process. Acheron quickly steps away but Styx doesn’t let his hand go. Yoongi has never understood the love Styx and Acheron shares. They can’t even touch each other without hurting each other and they couldn’t continue their day without touching each other. Yoongi watches the steam arising from where their hands meet and couldn’t bring himself to say anything. Acheron once burnt Styx alive at the beginning of time for he was a raging fire that couldn’t be controlled. The man weeped for years until Hades decided to bring Styx back in the form of water to him. Acheron sees it as a chance that was given to him to live happily with his love and pledged loyalty to the crown for as long as he shall live if it meant he could live with Styx. Bu that’s not all that he did. The man actually changed. From the rambunctious, unforgiving and wild fire turned tame just for a fragile lover.

Yoongi didn’t understand why Styx chose to stay then and he doesn’t understand why she chose to stay now.

The three of them walk to the throne room in no haste when the pair of lovers are forced to part when Lethe came, panting, asking Acheron to join in the fight upon Leviathan’s orders before greeting the prince. When Acheron left, Styx opens the door to the throne room and Yoongi strides up to his throne. It has only been 2 days in the human world and he’s already missing his throne and the black, pointy crown that sits comfortably on his mint hair. “My prince, a few minutes after Namjoon left for Earth, a peculiar man came to my river.” This immediately catches Yoongi’s attention. Only gods and goddesses who are ready to make a pledge will descend to Infernum to see the Styx Goddess where a mark of their word will be tattooed on their skin.

Namjoon and Jin had made their vow in front of Styx and their vow of ‘Semper Fidelis’ are tattooed around their neck like a chain – a leash.

“He was wearing a black cloak, one that covers his hair but a few strands of green hair is visible. His pale is fair, so fair it resembles yours, Your Highness. He’s different. The hate that he radiates isn’t like anything I have ever tasted before. The hate – it radiates throughout his body, sire.”

Yoongi watches the water-woman as she tries to describe how it tasted like. Styx River feeds on hatred and loathing. ‘The stronger the feeling, the better the taste’ Yoongi recalls Styx once told him before. And for her to describe it as an exquisite taste doesn’t make him happy at all.

“And when he makes the oath with me, he left.”

“What vow did he make?” Yoongi asks even though he knows Styx will never tell him.

“Your majesty, you know I am very tight-lipped about oaths and vows.”

“Even if it means doing me a great favour?” Yoongi asks and Styx stares at him.

“Are you implying that the green-haired boy is the rumoured man?”

“I don’t know, noona. Nobody does.” Yoongi is tired. He just wants to find this boy and burn him alive. He just wants a cup of coffee and some peaceful time in his kingdom and on Earth. But that is a luxury he doesn’t seem to be able to afford. Lucifer is missing, the Sluaghs are doing whatever the fuck they please, the mysterious kelp on Earth, the slaughter of the People of Poseidon and now a boy with ominous energy. “Namjoon, Wang and his pups are all over the place trying to gather intel for me.” Yoongi grumbles as he stands from his throne.

“Anyway, while Luci is gone, have Mammon take charge. I want those Sluaghs in the dungeons.” Having Mammon, the demon known for avarice in charge is never a good idea in Yoongi’s point of view for Mammon is greedy and sadistic. He takes and takes but never gives and most importantly, he goes against Yoongi’s principles of being fair. But Mammon will have to do for now just until Lucifer gets back. He couldn’t possibly have Leviathan for she has too much on her plate right now and Belphegor is known for his laziness and lastly, Beelzebub is known for his gluttonous life. Yoongi would be damned if Beelzebub resorts to eating those Sluaghs who refuses to listen to him.

“Will do, sire.” Styx bows at Yoongi as he walks down the stairs.

“I need you to be extremely tight-lipped regarding this matter. I will leave Infernum in your hands for the time being and I expect it to be in good conditions. I need you to update me whenever you can. You no longer need Lucifer to transmit any message to me.” Styx nods in understanding. “One more thing, noona…” Yoongi trails off as he takes off the black, pointing crown from his mint hair as he runs his hair through it. “How’s… Y’know, Hoseok’s sister?” Yoongi asks despite knowing what Styx will reply judging from her eyes.

The guardian of Styx River has averted her eyes from meeting her prince’s bluish-grey ones. “She’s still the same.” The prince purses his lips. “I will still send the purple hyacinths to her despite you being on Earth.” Yoongi gives her a small smile and nods slowly. The prince hopes that if the other half of the golden sibling will accept the flowers and listen them if she refuses to listen to him.

“I have another favour to ask from you, noona.” Styx smiles and tilts her head to the left. “Can you have Charon change some Danakes to Korean Won?”

“May I inquire for what purpose?” The beautiful woman asks as she tucks one finger under her chin. She finds the favour rather peculiar because while her prince is known for many things, Min Yoongi isnt a lavish person.

“I need to buy some rubies for Jin-hyung.”

‘Ah, so that’s what it is.’ The water-woman thought as she pats Yoongi on the shoulder in response. “Did you put my sweet Jin on a dry spell again?”

“No, I didn’t.” Yoongi gives his noona a pointed look as the said man rubs the back of his neck and in response, the guardian guffaws.

“Whatever you say, Yoongi-ah. I’ll have them delivered to you and do ask Suran to accompany you when you buy them so you don’t get some ugly-ass ones.”

“Rude.” The prince mumbles as the prince makes his way out of the castle and Styx trailing close behind him. She had struggled to match his pace but the prince is way too fast for her liking. When the prince stops in his garden and extricate his wings to their full expanse, Styx abruptly stops. She doesn’t want to be in those wings’ proximity when they’re out. One flap and she might evaporate into thin air. “Take care, noona. Both yourself and my kingdom.” Yoongi said and the water-woman bows with her right hand over her left chest.

“Your wish is my command, my prince.” The prince finds himself smiling and with one powerful stroke, he ascends up to the sky. He opens a portal with one destination in mind – Jin’s pride, Aphrodite.

The prince had a ‘marvellous’ time at Aphrodite as the Divine hands him his phone and a few quick tips on how to use it properly. With a little ‘I don’t need that’ from Yoongi and a ‘You’ll never know when you do.’ As a response, Yoongi walks out with a jailbreak-ed phone and a game that allows you to fight other players with a sausage. And then with a smile, he makes his towards his happy place – The Promise Café.

“Here you go.” Jimin smiles as he places a tall glass of vanilla milkshake in front of Yoongi. The prince is still on his little quest on finding the right flavour that resembles the chubby-cheeked waiter and that explains the vanilla milkshake. When he reaches out to take the glass, he realises that the pink-haired boy had added something extra at the side and before Yoongi could even ask about it, Jimin had already gone to greet a new customer. Yoongi couldn’t help but muster a little smile. ‘How nice.’

While Yoongi is lounging on his chair, (from his point of view), he saw a man – more specifically, V – who was watching the café in a distance. The Muse is wearing a brown hoodie and a washed-out blue jeans that are ripped at certain places. He no longer has that confident air around him or a frivolous outfit on. It feels like Yoongi is watching another man and the one before his eyes under the over-sized brown hoodie isnt V. The man had the hood on to cover his long, wavy brown hair as V’s chest pants heavily. Yoongi watches carely and a dark blue (one that’s much darker than his eyes) aura hovering above the Muse’s much too pale skin. If memory served him right, V has a rich, honey skin yesterday so what’s with the pale complexion today? V’s lips are trembling and chapped. When the Muse raises his arm to wipe his mouth, Yoongi notices a streak of red on the sleeve of his hoodie. After a while, V’s mouth moves and left. To Yoongi’s dismay, he couldn’t figure out the latter had said as the wind carries the Muse’s words away.

The prince’s eyes make their way to Jimin’s face now where the pink-haired boy is seen taking the orders of a regular. It was humiliatingly easy for Yoongi to remember the faces of Promise café’s regulars and new comers. When Yoongi takes the first sip of the vanilla milkshake, he instantly regretted his choices. It was so plain and milky and it tastes like eggs. Why the hell did he even think it was remotely close to Jimin? When the door chimes, he pays no heed to it as he forces the drink down his oesophagus and eats the extra thing Jimin gave him. The pastries taste good.

The customer at the door takes a seat across his table and Yoongi could feel it. Whatever or whoever the man is, they’re not human. Both of the hooded men have their hoods on but the one who is sitting in front of him made Yoongi raise his chin and furrow his eyebrows. The man has a mask on and the only thing Yoongi can see is the playful, goading pale blue eyes. If the man, much shorter than him with blue eyes doesn’t avert his gaze, Yoongi might have to dig those eyes out to make him learn his lesson but at the end of Yoongi’s thinning patience, the shorter man did.

Yoongi was about to take another bite when Suran gave him a chain of messages that came in like a flood. The prince growls in annoyance as he swipes as he gives the messages a glance before paying for what he ordered. He thanked Jimin and while the pink-haired boy is rushing to give him his balance, Yoongi unconsciously reaches out and ruffles his hair.

“Keep the change.” Yoongi said and Jimin seems startled a little before a furious blush makes its way across his cheeks. He mumbles a thanks and Yoongi watches how his cheeks move when the waiter’s plump lips move. ‘I can’t wait to eat you up.’ Yoongi thought, smiling. “No problem.” When Jimin’s mouth-watering smell reaches his nostrils and are beginning to cloud the prince’s vision, Yoongi suddenly (and awfully) is hyper-aware of his actions as he drops his hand and left.

His hand smells of Jimin now. And while the pink-haired boy has a bashful pink aura hovering his skin, the necklace around Jimin’s neck changes to a similar colour as well.

And for the nth time that week, Yoongi has a hard time cancelling out Jimin’s scent.

Chapter 5

[baconpal]

so heres the long super paper mario post

strap in for why super paper mario is fucking bizarre and why that’s pretty much awesome

gonna be a good amounts of spoilers, so if you’re on desktop then hit that read more, and if your on mobile, then here’s your punishment for using this god awful app

super paper mario is a game that is incredibly difficult to put into words, but it leaves such a powerful, lasting impression on me and i can’t come to say anything first other than I love it so much, and if you havent played the game, please just go do it now, even if you have to pirate or emulate or something, just let yourself play this game. It’s one of those games that I really feel I can just recommend to anybody

it’s difficult to think of where to start with dissecting this thing so i’ll just start with the art since lookin at things is pretty easy

ART/WORLD DESIGN

every world in SPM is completely unique, not just in what type of environment, but it’s art style, and this is premised with the fact that none of these worlds are capable of existing together and are completely separate, and NOT part of a cohesive universe (LOOKIN AT YOU ODYSSEY I STILL THINK YOU LOOK STUPID)

The hub and the first 2 worlds are mostly just slight variants on the same general style of simplistic shapes and colors, with world 1 delving into more linework type aesthetics, and 2 focusing more on impressions and silhouettes, 

world 3 changes this completely with what is obviously an 8 bit kind of style, but instead of jarring over sized pixels, the world is composed of detailed tiles arranged to look like pixel art that imply a more real world, and not a gamey one, 

world 4 focuses on patterns and big patches of color to give the impression of the vast emptiness of both space and the surface of a barren planet, before giving you the “Whoa Zone”, with a striking mix of wire frame and futuristic UI style to it

world 5 takes the idea of nature being crude and simplistic and humanity being sharp, angular, and extreme and flips that on its head, with humanity and the space they occupy being these absolute memes with no sense of depth, and the plant life existing in a system of clean cut caves with futuristic technology and elegant historic values

world 6 simplifies a kind of colored Japanese painting aesthetic, down to the funny cylindrical cloud clusters and brushstroke trees

world 7 depicts what is essentially hell (yes there’s hell in this game keep your pants on) as a squarish blur of bright greens and warm reds and purples, and depicts heaven as fluffy land of clouds and Greek temples

and lastly, world 8 is inverted greyscale, where light is black and darkness is white, its simplistic and striking and i couldn’t think of a better style for the final area of a game so focused on the concept of light and dark

MUSIC

I’ll just try and keep it simple, the musics fucking cash money

The game makes great use of motifs when it needs to, where specific themes and instruments are used in other songs to suggest relationships and put battles and travels into perspective

And when it ISNT doing that, it’s just fucking funky stuff, with a weird trend of BOING and PLOP and SPLISH noises in the percussion because fuck you i guess

There’s a lot of good songs that do lots of interesting things, any of the like 5 final battle songs are great things to point to, but i’ll just go ahead and say the main theme of world 8 “Castle Bleck” is one of my favorites that isn’t super highly rated. It brings in the types of instruments that have been associated with the villain the entire game, but also throws in 2 very important things; a sudden triumphant burst of almost JRPG styled chiptune that pushes away the constantly building tension, which is then followed by the sound of a clock ticking, which is a musical motif only present in the songs “Memory” and “Promise” which is played whenever the memories of the player’s little guide thing and the main villain’s past lives together are alluded to. This one song holds a lot of weight, as well as simply being a fucking cool song.

GAMEPLAY

This is, sadly, the one place I’ll not mince any words and say the gameplay is not amazing by any standard, it’s pretty much a classic mario game if it had RPG stats, items, and random abilities granted through the character and partner systems. The 3D flipping mechanic is nothing astounding, though it is very interesting to see how worlds are constructed

One of the biggest flaws people will mark the game for in its gameplay is that it’s tedious, and while I have to agree, that’s because I’ve already played the game before, and the tedium only comes from not being completely invested in the experience anymore. I’ll get some specific examples in a bit, but there’s a few cases of “tedium” that i believe are 100% intentional and drive the story in an interesting way

STORY/WRITING/GAME DESIGN

Thats a fuckin broad section, but its pretty much everything else i have to say on the game, and where the most spoilers and random praise is gonna be

I’m not actually gonna talk about the whole story, more just the strong parts of it, under the assumption you’ve already played it or understand a story as simple as “villain wants to destroy world, hero wants that to not happen”

The writing and characters are just flawless, everyone is fun to be around, especially the bad guys, who you see more antics of than your own party. There’s goofy running plotlines about O’chunks and mimi essentially getting grounded and being forced to write essays about why they fucked up at beating mario, and big stinky brother dimentio teasting and bullying them and sneaking them out to do his bidding when The big Count Bleck is away

The game is full of referential humor to not just mario itself but all kinds of games, there’s skeletons in hell who are clearly just Marios from the mainline games who died in stupid ways, there’s an actual dragon quest turn based boss battle in hell too, and chapter 3 has an otaku villain who tried to get with peach in a simulated visual novel

but the humor exists not just in references, but in simple good scenarios, with things like “Having a game show in a bathroom when everyone's life is at stake” and “locating an ancient manuscript to use as toilet paper” or “flying through black holes to find a convenience store” and things of that nature

It also interacts with the players emotions in many interesting ways, one of the more lauded being chapter 2-3, where mario is forced into working off a massive debt of fictional money, and is required to do hard, boring labor. There isn’t anyway to avoid doing both the hitting a block 100 times and the running on a treadmill for a few minutes thing, but the constant feeling of “there has to be a faster way to do this” drives the player to prod around, find the secrets, and slowly discover how to break the system wide open and get to the end, and i love it for that

This entire game is some sort of bait and switch, to put it simply, while it’s already a bit of a departure from both mario itself and the paper series, the first 5 worlds are pretty fucking tame stuff, other than the void, which is a giant black and purple spot that sits in the sky, always, every single world has the void growing in its sky, and it does grow, every chapter it gets bigger and bigger and takes up the sky, but where this truly culminates into the “switch” part is chapter 6, which starts itself by presenting you with the most TEDIUS sounding chapter possible, fight 100 enemies in a row, and nothing else, and for 25 straight fights, that is all it is, so you’ve locked yourself into it at this point, you know whats up, but the void in the background begins to grow to the point of being the entire fucking background, and every enemy you face speaks as if they know they’re all going to die, and by the 30th fight, one of the villains comes to stall for time as the void completely swallows the world, and the party is sent back to the hub. When they decide to go back in to world 6, its empty, the entire world is a white void with a single black line making up the ground, and colorless destroyed structures occasionally peaking out of the ground.

and you walk on this white void for so long and you just feel nothing but regret and fear and no matter how fast you make yourself go you feel like you’ll never find anything, but you do eventually get your plot item and escape

then, Dimentio, one of the villains you’ve seen the least of, appears in the hub world, the safest place in the universe, and kills mario

he just fucking kills him

he puts mario in a box and fills the box with explosions and mario fucking dies and goes to hell because fuck you mario

then you go through all of chapter 7 just to escape hell (called the Underwhere cus how could we possibly be allowed to take hell seriously) and join up with your full party before confronting the final world, which i’ve already stated i just love the design off

the game just takes the comfortable ride you’re on and throws it into the fucking sun and burns you alive and i love it so much, even the very end of the game doesnt let up, where the main villain is overtaken by that absolute madman Dimentio (Whose name is a play on both Dimension and dementia), who clearly was powerful enough to have done the whole “ending of the world” himself, but did it this way for the theatrics of it

there’s a lot i could still say about the game, but this post is absolute rambling and its 2 in the morning but as usual, i just wanted to shit my thoughts onto the internet to people could maybe learn somethin about either the game or me and how i think and look at and respond to stuff, and as always, anybody who read this whole thing is cool and i love you a whole heck of a lot

[whispers-of-gallifrey]

As We Sit By the Fire

This is my @classicwhosecretsanta gift for @monsterfisken, who asked for Nyssa and Tegan hurt/comfort. I’m...not sure about this, but I really hope you like it! I’ve also done another fic that doesnt follow any of your prompts, but I got the idea from them so I’ll post that next. Happy Holidays!

Set after Emerald Tiger, but before Prisoners of Fate

There are approximately 17 sitting rooms in the TARDIS, all located somewhere within the vast confines of the Gallifreyan ship. Approximately because the TARDIS likes to change things up every so often and the Doctor is never entirely sure whether it’s a new room he’s stepped into or if it’s Room 3 but with a different carpet, or is it just Room 1 every time?

Anyway, this story takes place in what is probably Sitting Room 12, but it might be 18. In any case, it’s a room with sofas and armchairs and a fire.

The atmosphere of this room was warm and welcoming. The aforementioned fire crackled and flickered, casting dancing shadows across the walls. The scent of pine needles hung in the air- the source of which was a large tree in the corner. Despite its positioning, this was the centre piece of the room, adorned with sparkly tinsel and ornate baubles (in his 3rd regeneration, the Doctor tried to claim these had been given to him by a God-like creature in the Mutara Nebula, but Jo said they looked exactly like the ones she’d seen in the antiques shop last week.)

It was positively cosy, and should have been a room entirely at peace.

So naturally, an argument was taking place.

“I don’t understand, Doctor,” Turlough complained, “Why are we celebrating Christmas?”

“Because, Turlough, it’s been roughly a year- relatively speaking of course- since we last celebrated it. Besides it’s rather good fun!”

“It also means we get cake and presents!” Tegan chipped in helpfully

Turlough looked at her.

“Oh come on, Turlough! Don’t be such a Scrooge!”

“Doctor! Tegan’s using Earth culture references again!”

“Well, you should know that one- you went to school!”

“Yes, and I do not need to be reminded of the time spent listening to my English teacher droning on and on about how this guy was dead to begin with!”

The Doctor stepped between them, arms raised in defence. “Alright, alright you two. Tegan, stop winding him up- don’t argue- Turlough, we are celebrating Christmas as a group and that means getting on, okay? I’m not putting up with you two squabbling any more till this holiday is over.”

The two exchanged sullen glances (although both were on the verge of bursting into laughter at the other’s expression.)

“Right! Good that’s sorted. Now, I am going to see if there’s anywhere or time on Earth we could visit that you would enjoy.”

“Good luck actually arriving there,” Tegan muttered.

The Doctor gave her a look that told her he wasn’t even going to dignify that response with an answer, then left the room.

—

“All I wanted to know was why we only seem to celebrate Earth holidays- holidays from merely one religion at that! Why do we never do one of mine – or Nyssa’s?”

Tegan had been about to reply with ‘you barely talk about your home- it took an entire kidnapping for us to even know something!’, but the mention of Nyssa silenced her. Their companion was in the room, yet hadn’t spoken at all- which wasn’t unusual in itself- but she hadn’t even attempted to stop their bickering, which was unusual.

Glancing towards their peacemaker, they saw she sat in the armchair, gazing deeply into the fire. The soft glow reflected of something on her cheeks. Tear tracks.

Tegan and Turlough turned to face each other and, in the silence of their stare, they came to an understanding. Turlough mumbled a non-specific excuse and dashed out the door. Tegan made her way carefully over to Nyssa.

“Did Turlough really just mumble “a non-specific excuse”?” She joked.

Nyssa made no indication of having heard the quip and continued to observe the fire, as if it held all the answers.

Tegan’s demeanour changed in an instant, from sarcastic Australian, to concerned friend. She stepped closer, making to perch on the arm of the chair; slowly she reached her arm out to place it round the Trakenite’s shoulders.

At the contact, Nyssa glanced up, eyes glistening with untold sadness.

“Oh…Tegan, sorry I didn’t notice…” she trailed off, eyes returning to the fire.

“Hey, hey it’s alright,” Tegan’s usually abrasive voice was soft and soothing, “What’s the matter?”

“It’s n-nothing Tegan. I’m fine.” Nyssa dabbed at her eyes with the cuff of her jacket, carefully ignoring Tegan’s stare. It wasn’t a very convincing lie.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll be forced to guess and you know what my guesses are like!”

Nyssa let out a shaky laugh at this, hopefully remembering the last Christmas the TARDIS team celebrated together, where they’d played charades and Tegan spent 10 minutes trying to guess what Adric was acting. Suddenly that moment felt, to her, like an eternity ago, and it must have felt even longer for Nyssa. When she’d left she’d been younger than Tegan, and now she was many years older.

And we’ve swapped one annoying brat for another, Tegan thought, trying to ignore the pang of grief tugging at her memories.

Her happy memories of all the banter, the frustration of all the arguments, the calm of the private moments she shared with Nyssa. Their family had changed so much-

That’s when it clicked.

Family.

“You- you miss your family don’t you?” she asked, emotions suddenly threatening to overwhelm her.

Nyssa nodded, then whispered, her voice catching slightly, “All of them.”

Tegan wasn’t certain on how to respond, so she asked: “Do you want to talk about it?”

–

Nyssa’s first instinct was to shake her head, but she knew bottling it up would only cause it to overflow at a later date- better get it done now, then she’d be better prepared to help others later.

Taking a deep breath (and a moment to consider her words) she began:

“All this talk of mentioning Christmas, it makes me think of all the other festivals and holidays in my life- making me realise all I’ve lost. I miss everything. I miss my family. My father, my mother, Kassia.

“On Traken we had this festival of light. It would be celebrated at the completion of every orbit our planet made of the sun, to remind us…”

The sun was beginning to set for the final time in that rotation. Dying rays of dazzling orange cast dark shadows across the land. It was not a scary sight; these shadows were dancing along with their owners, to the soft melodies that hung in the air. In a few moments, the lanterns would be lit, holding the light until it was the sun’s turn to lift it again. The festival would continue until the rays began to peak above the horizon, signifying the new beginnings for the Traken Union. Despite the advancing darkness, the atmosphere was light, laughter intertwined with the music and love was at the very core. The laughter and love were at their strongest between a group of three people. A man, a woman, and a young girl. The girl was wearing a brand-new dress; flowers adorned her chestnut hair. The other two were her parents, laughing at her joy as she swayed to the music, loving with all their hearts as she came back to them for hugs. They say Utopia cannot theoretically exist, but this must be the closest ever achieved.

–

Tegan’s own eyes were glistening with tears after listening to Nyssa recount the beauty that was Traken in the twilight.

“Wow…that sounds so…perfect…”

“It was. Back then, those nights felt like they would never end. But now-” She took a shaky breath. “But now they’ll never start again.”

Tegan gazed into Nyssa’s eyes. Eyes full of so much sorry and tragedy, but Tegan knew they could shine bright with hope and intelligence, and she’d do all she could to bring that back.

—

It was a few moments before either of them spoke, and when they did, they began discussing Nyssa’s children

“They’re the most wonderful children anyone could ever ask for. Neeka is strong and brave- she’s like you Tegan. A bit sarcastic and argumentative but she always knows what’s right. Adric is intelligent like his namesake – though he definitely eats less!” The two laughed gently at that.

“And Lasarti- he’s the most wonderful man I’ve ever met. He’s kind and…I love him”

Tegan tried to ignore the jealousy twisting at her heart. This was about Nyssa, not her feelings.

“Tell me more about them. What holidays do you celebrate on Terminus then?”

“The last thing we celebrated together was Lasarti’s birthday…"

The girl had spent hours trying to perfect the cake. It was slightly more difficult that synthesising an enzyme, but it was manageable. It had to be perfect. Her brother was creating a distraction to prevent their father from discovering the surprise, asking him hundreds of questions about his work- a topic the boy usually showed no interest in. When the cake was finally complete, the girl presented it with a flourish. Their father laughed in delight and declared it a masterpiece, although it was a little burned in places and she'd accidentally used salt instead of sugar in the top layer. Their mother looked on, smiling softly. Her son made the cake for her birthday and it had been an interesting mess of colour. They spent the evening playing games and the boy repeatedly refused to admit he was in the least bit tired because he's a teenager now and doesn't need to be told what to do. He fell asleep curled up to his sister, who fell asleep on top of him. The parents shared an adoring glace and decided to sleep in there with them.

 "...And, despite all the horrors in the outside world, it was so cosy and peaceful…” Nyssa trailed off, the warm atmosphere fading like the embers in the fire “…t-that was the last time we ever spent together as a family”

“Nys…” Tegan replied softly, her heart breaking.

Nyssa brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Tears ran anew down her cheeks.

“I lost my parents, Adric, my family. I lose everyone. I’m- I’m cursed! Don’t you see, Tegan, it’s only a matter of time till I lose you too!”

“You won’t lose me. I won’t leave you”

“You left before”

“No. You left me at Heathrow. And besides, you left too. But we both came back and that’s what matters.”

“You’ll get back to them, Nys. You’ll deliver the cure for Richters and save millions- billions of lives! You’ll become a universal hero and your children will love you more than ever!”

Nyssa lifted her head and gave a tearful smile. “I appreciate the sentiment Tegan, I wish I had your optimism.”

Tegan hugged her tightly, impulsively, “You will see your children again Nyssa. You will. They’ll be overjoyed to see you and you’ll celebrate so many holidays together” She paused, “…but at least make the most of these ones too”

Nyssa gazed up at Tegan, and returned the hug, “I will.” She pressed a kiss gently to her cheek and whispered

“Thank you”

—

“Ah, there you are,” the Doctor stepped into the room, “You know, I could have sworn this room was closer to the console room. Anyway, we’ve managed to land at a Frost Fair in London so if you…”

He trailed off as he noticed his two companions. They were curled up together like kittens in the armchair, fast asleep, expressions of peace and contentment on both of their faces.